SuShi's Bizarre Adventure: Nugget Run Horizon

by Jojoleopard


Chapter 9: Alestorm's Tempest

“Sea air!” Prism Dash inhaled and grinned to herself. “Fuchsia, don’t you think the air smells really good out here?”

Fuchsia looked up from a magazine she was reading and she frowned. “No.”

“Come on, you don’t like anything. Surely there’s something other than baking you enjoy.” Prism walked over and leaned against the railing beside her. “You can tell me.”

“No. I don’t enjoy anything pointless.” Fuchsia groaned. “I just want to be done with this and go home.”

“Come on. Learn to live in the moment.” Prism slapped her on the arm, only to receive a glare from her friend. “What? Come on, don’t always be so broody and dark.”

“Fuchs this…” Fuchsia sighed and slapped her magazine shut. “Why don’t you go bother Sushi instead? You’re her best friend. Just leave me to wallow in my self pity.”

Prism shook her head and grabbed the magazine from Fuchsia. “Sushi’s asking the captain questions. So here I am, hanging out and trying to be friendly, Fuchsia. Hasn’t your mom ever told you that you have to be more friendly?”

“Of course she has. But no, I’m the disappointment of all her children.” Fuchsia pulled her legs up to her chest. “I’m nothing like my siblings and I’m definitely nothing like my parents. So leave me alone, Prism. I don’t even know why she sent me here with you-”

She suddenly stopped and looked up, then to the side. Her left arm began twitching and she scratched the right side of her neck.

“What, what’s wrong?” Prism raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“It’s just Celldweller.” Prism put her arm down. “But we’re being watched. Someone’s on this ship with us.”

“I mean, there’s at least twelve other people on board.” Prism looked to the deck where a fat man was lounging on the opposite end from them and a blue haired boy was busy toying with the lifebuoy attached to the side. “Of course there are people on this ship with us.”

“I don’t mean that.” Fuchsia pushed Prism aside and got up. “The person watching us has a different energy. The only people I know with such signatures are us and that last Stand user on the plane. There’s a Stand user among us and I don’t think they’re friendly.”

“They found us already, huh?” Prism looked around at the other people. “Man, how I wish I had a Stand.”

“Well, you don’t. Stop whining.” Fuchsia rubbed her temple. “Act natural. We don’t want the enemy Stand user to know we’re already on to them.”

“Uh huh.” Prism rolled up the magazine and held it like a bat. Just in case. “Hey, do you think it smells a bit weird?”

Fuchsia sniffed at the air. Now that Prism had mentioned it, there was a faint odor coming from somewhere on the ship. It smelled strangely familiar, but at the same time, not something she could immediately recall.

“Maybe it’s a fart.” Prism waved a hand in front of her nose. “Won’t surprise me that someone decided to let out some air.”

“It reminds me of my mother’s Christmas cakes…” Fuchsia mumbled. She cocked her head to the side and nodded slowly. “Yes, Celldweller. It does make me think of the kitchen when the cake is being baked.” She clapped her hands together. “It’s rum. That’s what the smell makes me think of.”

“Your mom adds rum to cakes?” Prism asked. 

“Yes, it’s a great ingredient for depth of flavor,” Fuchsia sighed. “You wouldn’t understand, you don’t know how to make cakes.”

Prism looked skeptical. “Won’t that just make people drunk when they eat it?”

“I don’t expect you to grasp the intricacies of being a patissiere,” Fuchsia looked at Prism sternly. “What’s important now is that we find out what the source of the rum smell is.”

“Why? So what if the air smells like rum?” Prism sniffed again. “Kinda smells nice. I’ve never had any myself. Maybe I should.”

“It’s too strong to be coming from any one source.” Fuchsia put a hand to her nose. Already, she was beginning to feel her head swirl from the fumes.

The fat man must’ve smelt it too, because he suddenly got up and licked his lips before walking over to the railing to look over the side. He suddenly threw himself overboard and Prism rushed over to check on him.

Fuchsia just rolled her eyes and followed. “Finally. Someone who’s got the right idea to finish life here.”

To their surprise, the area of water around their yacht wasn’t blue. It was a slight orange instead and the man was busy slurping up what he could.

“Hey, get out of there!” Prism waved to him.

“No way! It’s all alcohol!” He sucked up more of it and swallowed again. “This is anyone’s dream!”

“It’s way too much.” Prism remembered her lessons in class. She never found this fact important, but she strangely remembered it from an experiment her lecturer had shown them. “Dude, you’re swimming in alcohol down there. If it’s too concentrated, you won’t stay afloat much longer!”

The man didn’t reply, but as he slurped up the next mouthful, he found that it was getting harder to come up for air and soon, he couldn’t even get his nose above the surface level. He struggled and grabbed for the air, but he was fairly large and he didn’t exercise as much as he should’ve. Instead of floating on water when he was tired, it was not working here and he couldn’t keep himself above the surface any longer. He gurgled and opened his mouth in a silent scream as he sank deeper under the waves and soon, he had disappeared from sight completely.

“This is definitely the work of an enemy Stand.” Fuchsia flipped around and scanned the ship. “The Stand user had to be one of the people here on this yacht.”

“Man, the smell really gets to you, doesn’t it?” Prism swayed on her feet and had to grab the railing to steady herself. “Hey, you know, you should really try more things, Fuchsia. You’re way too irritating all the time with your attitude.”

“Why’re you suddenly bringing this up?” Fuchsia gritted her teeth. “You wanna have a go? Is that it? Bring it on if you dare, Prism.”

Fuchsia blinked. That was weird. That had come out of nowhere. It must’ve been the alcohol. The fumes coming from the ocean were strong. Maybe a bit too strong and it was already showing across the crew and passengers on the ship.

One woman ran to the side and threw up, while another just collapsed on the spot. Two bearded men stared each other down, then got into a brawl before falling over the side.

“The enemy Stand, it can create alcohol…” Fuchsia deduced. “And its alcohol works fast and makes us drunk from inhaling it.” Then she looked over her shoulder and she nodded. “Yes, that too. Drinking too much alcohol can cause your liver to fail. Smelling it at such a high concentration could potentially do that too.”

“You don’t really have a Stand, do you?” Prism poked her in the face. “You always make fun of me for not having one, but I don’t see your Stand doing anything useful, like taking care of this Stand user, or making us fly, or even breathing fire. Nada. Just admit it, you’re like me.”

“Prism, you’re not thinking straight, but we need to stop breathing in these fumes. Hold your breath.” She tried to shut Prism’s mouth, but she was shoved away.

“Nope, you ain’t gonna silence me, sister.” Prism raised her fists. “Bring it on.”

She threw a punch, but Fuchsia bent back and Celldweller pushed her back up before she hit the floor, then she grabbed Prism around the neck and began dragging her back towards the cabin. It would probably be better inside. And she could find the others too. Sushi’s or Jojo’s Stand would be more effective at combating an enemy Stand.

Sliding open the glass door to the cabin, the first thing that hit Fuchsia in the face was the smell of alcohol, even more concentrated than outside, likely because of the enclosed space.

Everyone in here, including Summer, Jojo and Sweetie Belle were already unconscious on the ground and standing against the bar, pouring herself a drink was a woman with purple hair and a very ugly lip piercing.

“Ah, I was wondering when you would find out what was happening,” she said and turned around to face them. She had a large pirate hat on top of her head that had glowing green crossbones and a large red feather. “I didn’t think it would be this easy, but here we are.”

She grabbed the side of her grey jacket and with one swipe, she tossed it aside, leaving her in a dark green and orange shirt with puffed shoulders, and a grey pair of pants with a red line going down the right leg. She reached her free hand to her belt, where she kept an assortment of pouches and unsheathed a curved knife from it.

“This is your doing,” Fuchsia concluded. “You must be a Stand user.”

The woman sneered. “And how did you figure that out?”

“Well, duh,” Prism slurred. “You’re, like, the only person here who’s not being affected by the… the… stuff. The chemicals.”

“And that hat’s looking rather suspicious.” Fuchsia pointed a finger at her. “That must be your Stand.”

“What, the hat?” Prism hiccuped. “It's green.”

“Observant one, aren’t you?” The woman lifted a glass to them. “That’s right. Alestorm takes the form of a hat, and it has the power to change water into alcohol. Highly concentrated alcohol, mind you. Nothing the likes you’ve ever drank, I can assure you.”

“So you’re with Weather Alternate?” Fuchsia turned her body slightly, then brought up one fist to her face, while the other one curved around her back. “You’re here to stop us for killing someone and some dog.”

Ja, you guessed right, except for the revenge plot. I have no part in that.” She took a sip from her glass. “My name is Gobble Gab, and I’m one of the top members of Weather Alternate. You’ve been a thorn in our side and it’s time to get pruned. And oh, you don’t have to worry about us anymore. None of you will be reaching land alive.”

Prism staggered forward and whirled her fists in front of her face like a pugilist. “Oh yeah?” she said unsteadily. “Bring it on! We’re not afraid of nobody from Werther Avocado!” 

Fuchsia sighed heavily. It was clear that Prism was a lightweight and being strongly affected by Alestorm’s attack. It would have to be down to herself to sort out this enemy Stand user.

“Your Stand can’t immediately attack us.” Fuchsia picked up a woman’s blue scarf and tied it around her nose and mouth. “If I kill you, its effects will wear off.”

“What do you think this knife is for?” Gobble Gab spun her weapon in her fingers. “If you think you can take me on, then come, both of you. I’m ready for the fight and fate.”

Prism screeched and charged forward first, but then she tripped over the sofa and sprawled across it. Fuchsia closed the distance between herself and Gobble Gab, keeping her eyes on the older woman. 

Gobble Gab lashed out with a cut from her knife, but Fuchsia spun around the strike and took something from her pocket. Gobble attempted a stab, narrowly missing Fuchsia. 

“You know, nobody ever said I was a nice person,” Fuchsia said as the two of them skipped apart to survey the other. “And I’ve only ever used this once on a thief before, but looks like you’ll be number two.”

“What’s that?” Gobble asked, looking at her opponent’s hand. There was what appeared to be a comb in Fuchsia's hand, with a heavy black plastic and steel handle. “A comb? You’re going to fight me with a comb?”

“Fuchs you. This isn’t just a comb.” Fuchsia pressed a button on the comb and a six inch long blade clicked out from the handle. “I normally just use this on myself, but it’s a good thing I carry something like this.”

She jabbed it low at Gobble Gab, but she swung down with her own knife and deflected the attack, knocking it from Fuchsia's hand. Celldweller caught it and tossed it back to her, putting a surprised look on Gobble Gab’s face as she watched the knife miraculously curve in the air before returning to Fuchsia's hand.

“How did you do that?” Gobble Gab snarled. “What is your Stand? I can’t see it.”

“My Stand is Celldweller, Fuchs face, and only I can see it.” Fuchsia attacked again with her shank-comb. “It acts as a second person close to me. It can’t attack you directly, but it can support me as I shank you in the gut.”

Her attacked was deflected again and no matter how many times she tried to stab her enemy, Gobble Gab just kept blocking with her own larger knife.

“You might have a weapon, but you’ve no skill with it like I do with mine.” She smirked and kicked out a foot as Fuchsia ran back in to attack. Celldweller pushed her back on her feet and she slashed forward again, only for Gobble Gab to twist to one side and slice forward, nicking Fuchsia on the shoulder. “This is too easy.”

“You may be right,” Fuchsia admitted. “Your skill with a knife is better than mine. But, there’s still one thing I beat you in.”

“Oh? How do you plan on that?” Gobble Gab said menacingly. “I’ll stab you in the face.”

“Yeah, you might,” Fuchsia said, edging away from Gobble’s weapon. “Or I could beat you in a running race.”

And with that, Fuchsia turned and sprinted out of the cabin, her boots thumping on the wooden floor.

Gobble Gab stood there in shock for a second. “HEY!” She shouted and ran after Fuchsia. “Get back here!”

Fuchsia bumped against the cabin wall as she ran on, before Celldweller steadied her and kept her going. Her tolerance against alcohol was stronger and the scarf was helping dull the smell, but she could already feel it affecting her more and she didn’t have long before she would possibly end up like her friends. She had to think of a way to end this, fast.

“Where do you think you can go?” Gobble Gab called after her. “We’re on a ship in the middle of the ocean. Unless you plan to swim to the Netherlands, you better come back here and face me.”

Fuchsia ran into one of the supply closets and shut the door. There must be something in here that could potentially help her deal with Gobble Gab. She looked around and a whisper entered her ear from her Stand. Her eyes landed on a bottle of pink liquid. She glanced at Celldweller, as if to confirm something. Then she picked up the bottle and sneaked out of the closet.

Meanwhile, Gobble Gab was still hunting for Fuchsia. She was the last person of the group who was still conscious and once she was dealt with, there would be no more threat to Weather Alternate. 

“Where are you, you little rascal…” Gobble muttered. She heard a small thump from the back of the boat and ran over to take a look. Gobble was rewarded with the sight of Fuchsia's shoes disappearing around the corner. That path led to the rear viewing deck of the ship, and there was nowhere to go after that. 

Gobble Gab ran up after Fuchsia, who was standing next to the railing that kept people from falling into the ocean. The goth girl was holding a bottle of something, but seemed to be having trouble standing. She was swaying on the spot like she was about to collapse.

“Aha, my fumes have finally gotten to you!” Gobble Gab shouted as she ran at Fuchsia. “Prepare to die!”

Gobble Gab’s feet crashed on the surface of the wooden deck, but then suddenly she skidded on the spot, losing her footing and sliding towards Fuchsia.

“I knew you wouldn’t notice,” Fuchsia said. “I coated the floor in soap, something I found in the supply closet earlier. With it all over the floor, you’re not going to have any traction and at the speed you were going when you were coming after me, well, have a nice swim.”

Fuchsia jumped up and she was suddenly thrown higher up by an invisible force and Gobble Gab slid across the deck and hit the railing, flipping over it falling off the ship into the water-turned-alcohol with a splash.

Fuchsia looked down at the churning liquid below. You couldn’t float or swim well in alcohol, and Gobble Gab knew it. In a pulse of energy, the alcohol changed back into water, leaving the member of Weather Alternate treading water at the back of the boat. That hadn’t exactly been her plan, but she had other ways of dealing with this problem.

It would take a while for the passengers and crew to regain consciousness, and that was just fine with Fuchsia. She made her way to the bridge of the boat and in very little time found the controls.

“Let’s see how you like this…” Fuchsia muttered and threw the boat into reverse. 

Down below, the yacht’s powerful engine jumped to life and the propeller spun like a buzzsaw, churning up the water further.

Gobble Gab watched the propeller get closer and splashed about, trying to get further away.

“No! No! Not like this! I was supposed to win!”

Fuchsia nodded at her task and went back to the viewing deck. She looked down. There was a faint red smear in the blue seawater, and the remains of Gobble Gab’s pants floated to the surface.

“And that’s the end of that fuchsing moron.” Fuchsia gave her Stand a high-five, then dusted her hands together and removed the scarf. The air smelled better again and for once, it actually smelled good to her. “I guess I shouldn’t take air for granted. Now, to wait for the others to get up again.”

She made her way back to the front deck and got herself on the deck chair she had been lounging on earlier before Prism decided to bother her.

“Peace and quiet.” She leaned back and then groaned. “I hate life.”