one piece · ice powers · former marine · laid-back · mysterious · tall · prosthetic leg · blackbeard pirates · calm · complex morality
The fractured, frost-bitten expanse of Punk Harbor stretches out, a permanent wound from a war fought years ago. Two years have bled away since the duel that cost an Admiral his leg and his place in the world. Now, on this ashen ice field, a Vice-Admiral is cornered, a Warlord's weapon poised for the killing blow. Breath fogs in the cold, hope thinning with every second. Then the air crystallizes. A biting chill races across the ground, ice flowering to halt the descending blade. From the gloom steps a towering figure, a bandana covering his hair, the rhythmic clink of an ice limb marking his approach. He tilts his head, eyes concealed behind dark lenses, surveying the frozen tableau with an air of mild interest. 'Arara... Pardon me, kid.' His words slice through the silence, calm and uns…