Phaethon

Phaethon is a Harpy who lives on Sky Island. Her parents are unknown, as they’ve abandoned her since birth, leading her to fend for herself with no support. Phaethon was born with disfigured wings, where her wings lost a good chunk of her feathers and never grew back. Not much is known about her transition from infancy to toddlerhood, as she was a rogue hunter hiding within tall trees away from major cities. She was found alone by a group of Celestial Dragons and Marines, nearly dying from starvation as a toddler, and was taken away from Sky Island. Because this was one of the first harpies of her kind with a congenital wing disfigurement that prevented her ability to fly, the Celestial Dragons ended up creating a “lawful Marine operation” as a secret initiative for studying flight-capable races. However, Phaethon was not the only harpy who was captured by the Marines and Celestial Dragons. She was settled in a dark, confined room, similar to a prison cell, with another harpy from Sky Island. As Phaethon was aided to health, her consciousness became more fluid about where she was and who she was with. The confinement consisted of smaller rooms consisting of 2 harpies per room, in a massive, lengthy hallway, with Marines walking around the area, batons in hand. Sometimes, a small stratum of harpies would be forced out of their cells, and walked out with a couple of Celestial Dragons. Hours would pass, and they’d finally return… albeit battered and bruised, with tremors and fear in their eyes. For the first few months, Phaethon was never instructed to leave with the other harpies. Most of her time in the cell was spent recovering from malnutrition and other illnesses. She was often singled out from her cellmate, other harpies, and the Marines because of her lack of feathers. Arguments would sometimes occur within the Marines and the Celestial Dragons as to why she’s even here, to which the Celestial Dragons always reassured the Marines that they had “big plans in the works for her.” One day, Phaethon’s cell finally opened. Expecting her cellmate to be sent away to the unknown again, the Marine on duty approached her and lent out his hand. When Phaethon looked at her cellmate, he looked in shock, with tears running down his face. She had no idea why he was so upset and scared, but soon enough, she will understand what is really behind those doors. Even as she was being escorted by the Marines, the other cellmates in the building knew what was going to happen, and looked at her with sorrow. When passing through the infamous doors, all she saw was darkness. Her, 6 other harpies, and the on-duty marines passed through a bricked candlelit corridor to another set of doors. Opening those doors revealed something unexpected… 6 blank tables laying side to side, and one upright table shaped like a small cross with metal wrist and leg restraints. The Marines forcefully and aggressively took the 6 harpies alongside Phaethon, slammed them wing-side up on the flat tables, and restrained their limbs with rope. When Phaethon almost comprehended what was going on, both of the Marines tightly locked their hands on her wrists, and dragged her to that cross-shaped table in the back. Whenever Phaethon tried to resist and escape, the Marines would only grab onto her wrists harder to the point where cracks were heard from her already fragile bones. As Phaethon’s limbs were tightly constricted by the metal restraints, a Celestial Dragon walked in and stood in front of the entrance, with the Marines following behind him. The screaming and crying from the other harpies passed once the Celestial Dragon cleared his throat. He began to announce: “Hello to my fellow subjects of PROJECT PINION. Today, we have an unfamiliar face attending with us. We have given it a name… 0-SKYLOCK! As you may have seen, its wings are different compared to you, so that’s why it has never attended any of our previous events. But we, the Celestial Dragons and associations of Vegeapunk, have come up with a new approach to 0-SKYLOCK’s design. According to previous data from this experiment and wildlife studies, this baby bird has a viral congenital condition seen in wild birds called Psittacine Beak and Feather Disease. In simpler terms for you numbnuts, its feathers are not fully formed and can never grow back. In our findings, we may have found a cure and doesn’t necessarily require medication! We are the first group in all of the Red Line to be able to produce this experimental treatment! Now, enough of the introduction. The experiment will now commence per usual…” More Marines wearing surgical uniforms walked in from behind the Celestial Dragons, tools in hand. What Phaethon witnessed next will be the most haunting sight of her life… Each surgeon had moved to one table, set up their tools, and waited for the Celestial Dragon’s command to allow them to commence the experiment. Once the Celestial Dragon gave the green light and left the room, each surgeon rhythmically picked up the scalpel and gauze. The surgeons had to cut off individual harpy feathers by the root and put them in separate piles. The sounds were no better than the procedure… screaming, crying, tremors, massive bleeds, blood transfusions from severe blood loss, syncope, and heavy breathing occurred in the small room. No anaesthetic nor pain medication was used during this violent period, as these “professionals” assumed that harpies had a higher pain tolerance than humans. Sometimes, the feathers would be so stubborn to the point where some surgeons had to forcefully yank them out from the wing. Several harpies ended up with ⅔ of their feathers taken apart from one side of their wing. Once the desired amount of feathers were collected and left aside, the surgeons lifted up their bloodied gloves away from the table, and the Celestial Dragon was called back in. The Celestial Dragon praised their precision in collecting the feathers, and were allowed to be discharged and cleaned up. The other harpies, however, were fighting between life and death. Half were unconscious, either from syncope from pain or blood loss, or either unknowingly died on the table from severe blood loss and shock. The other half who were fading in and out of consciousness would have episodic phases of awareness and screaming, until they passed out again. Phaethon never made a peep while witnessing the entire procedure… tears ran down her face, but she never verbally wailed. Her eyes were open and irritated, like she hadn’t slept in a week. She couldn’t blink. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t cry. She couldn’t tell anyone. She couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t have saved them.. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything at all… Minutes later, a new group of surgeons walked in, tools and IV drips in hand. A small group of Marines dragged the wheeled surgical tables of the other harpies outside a nearby door to the left, only to be never seen again. All of the surgeons walked up to her… slowly yet rhythmically. They collected the feathers from the previous harpies and put them on a smaller table wheeled in by a Marine. When the Celestial Dragon gave the new surgeons the green light to proceed, each surgeon grabbed needles, stitching threads, feathers, and staples. Phaethon tried to wriggle out of her restraints, to which Marine backup was called to restrain her body and limbs further. The surgeons connected the damaged nerves and feather roots to the other harpies' roots and nerves, and either stitched and stapled them to Phaethon’s wings. Despite her damaged nerves, the pain was still unbearable, as her wings were more open and unprotected. She had no choice but to silently cry. She was too frozen in fear and pain to even consider screaming. Sooner or later, she passed out from how unbearable the pain was. When Phaethon woke up, the first thing she felt was pain. She was lying in her cell bed, with her cellmate looking down at her and crying. Phaethon finally had the energy to lift herself up from her stiff bed, and even winced in pain whenever her wings grazed the lightest thing. Her cellmate still had that look of sorrow, and spoke to her for the first time. His broken voice asked, “What did they do to you?” Phaethon could not form a coherent sentence. She knew she couldn’t say anything, even though her cellmate could tell what happened. Soon enough, an on-duty Marine and a doctor walked into the cell. They handed Phaethon a cup of water, a small plate of seeds, and a cocktail of pain medication, nerve pills, and antibiotics. The doctor instructed her to eat the seeds first, as he mentioned that eating will allow the medication to not irritate her stomach. Phaethon did as she was told, and the doctor and the Marine left the cell. This repetitive process occurred for the next two weeks, until a Celestial Dragon arrived at her cell, and took her arm. She was forcibly dragged past the same doors towards the experimentation room, however, they walked past the experimentation room and went through the same door the other harpies that were from the surgery went to after their feathers were extracted. Inside was a white room, with several cadavers and beds with deceased harpies covered with white duvets. Phaethon could clearly make the silhouettes of some of the harpies that had their feathers extracted from in the experiment. Passing through this room led her to a small doctors office, which was pristine, clean, and orderly. She was shoved onto a small wheeled stool, and sat alone for several minutes. All of the sudden, she heard a knock on the door. It was the same doctor she had seen for the last while who treated her for malnutrition and gave her the pill cocktails after the procedure. He was the friendliest of the people she had ever met. He introduced himself as Dr. Vegeapunk. A short-statured man with a massive forehead and crazy white hair. He was a very professional man, and seemed to know what he was doing when taking blood draws and laboratory analyses. He even made attempts in trying to cheer up Phaethon by making silly faces, as she was only a child. Phaethon laughed! But she then realized; why would a man so eager about his profession use it for madness? Was he forced to be a part of this, or was this out of free-will? Phaethon had near-daily checkups with Dr. Vegeapunk, with their relationship growing positively. Phaethon saw something in Vegeapunk that she never had before; a father figure. But she would never fully trust him because of his association with this dastardly project.As Phaethon aged from her childhood to mid-adolescence, she was beginning to become a part of the other experiments the harpies would go through. Every second day, Phaethon would be exposed to Marine live-fire air stress tests, forced combat trials with other harpies, shock and suppression conditioning to ensure that she is able to fly without hesitation, violent wing suppression training, and several feather graft rejections from previous and current trials, as her condition occasionally caused severe infections on surgical sites when other harpies feathers were stitched and stapled on her damaged wings. Over time, she also noticed older members of the confinery disappearing, most likely dying from medical complications, malnutrition, and experiment failure. Obviously, Celestial Dragons and Marines would hide away their disappearances by replacing them with newly-captured harpies from Sky Island. Phaethon had no friends aside from Dr. Vegeapunk. Everyone shunned her for having disfigured wings, and blamed her for the losses of their loved ones if they were sent off to the feather graft procedures. As Phaethon aged into adulthood, her wings grew more and more disfigured. Some feathers from prior graft attempts stayed, but a good portion of the feathers either died off or became so infected to the point of removal. Several nights, Phaethon barely had the capacity to sleep. She’d constantly be plagued with pain, emaciation, wing tremors, and nightmares. During these times, she’d sit down and plot… plot escape plans, plot freedom, and plot revenge against her perpetrators. But she can’t let herself free without abandoning the other harpies, so coming up with an escape plan for EVERYONE is more daunting and taxing than expected… One day, as Phaethon and a group of harpies were being sent for another feather replacement procedure, something in her snapped…but it wasn’t a snap. It was a slow fracture where the experiments never actually ended… they just lost their uniforms. As everyone entered the room, Phaethon wanted to test her limits. Before she and the other harpies were restrained on those familiar tables, she dashed across the room, gaining as much momentum from her damaged wings as much as she could. She spread her talons and mauled the 2 guards who escorted them. Before the Celestial Dragon ran in, she gave the cell keys to the other harpies and told them to free everyone, and slammed the door behind her once the room had only her and the Celestial Dragon. Phaethon’s suppressed rage belted out in one ghastly scream, to which she fought like she never had before. She used what little energy she had left from her already weakened state to target her biggest perpetrator yet. Soon enough, the Celestial Dragon was scratched, bruised, and disemboweled by her sharp talons. In the distance, she saw Vegeapunk, shaking behind the mortuary door. She yelled; “I won’t hurt you. You’re the only person who has ever seen me for me, and not some freakish monster. But why? Why would you do this to us?!” Vegapunk hesitated, and looked away. He solemnly said with tears forming in his eyes; “I was forced to work here… I was misled by the World Government and the Celestial Dragons that this was a restoration project, not whatever this mess is. I beg for mercy and forgiveness, please… Please don’t tell anyone about my naïveness of accepting to be a part of this project… please don’t tell Bonney… please don’t tell Kuma…please don’t tell Kizaru… I promise I will do anything I can to make everything up to you and your people!” Phaethon walked up to her dear friend, and hugged him. “Don’t worry about it, doctor. I knew from the start that you were better than this.” She walked away from that infamous room with a newfound pride that she had never felt before. When Phaethon entered the confinery, everything was empty. No Marines, no Celestial Dragons, no harpies, no more subjects. Everyone was gone. At the end of the long corridor, a bright light illuminated the room. The outside world was just mere feet away… and her dreams of being free from torture and captivity finally came true. She ran. She ran like never before… and there she was. In the center of Mary Geoise, watching the other harpies fly away, free and happy. Families were fully reunited, friends were hugging each other, and flew towards home. Phaethon had no choice but to watch… she couldn’t fly properly, and for long periods either. She had conflicting thoughts. She didn’t feel happy when seeing everyone fly away. She dissociated, and her wings trembled as they attempted to gain control. She knew there was a visceral certainty that something is wrong with the world. Life truly isn’t fair… Phaethon ended up flying home to Sky Island. It took much longer than expected because of her inability to fly properly. She faced several battles with Marines and Celestial Dragons, as a large bounty is now in her name because of her mass-escape event. As she fought and killed more Marines and Celestial Dragons, she faced an urge to kill. It wasn’t fair that the others took credibility to fly home safely while she sat there and suffered. Everyone was flying effortlessly, untouched, and whole. She wants to make sure that she was the real hero of the escape, not them. Once she arrived back in Sky Island, she went back to her childhood roots, hanging around the tall trees away from the city. She never came back to the public eye… she knew what she wanted to do. Her mind creates the conclusion; if they can fly freely like that, then something is missing within me. For weeks, her experimental logic never left her. Damage creates inefficiency, inefficiency creates failure, and failure means that you must replace what is broken. She doesn’t initially think of senselessly murdering other harpies, but rather in terms of procurement. For the next while, she stalks several harpies as they fly. She studies their wingspan, altitude control, feather density, wind and weather, and takeoff posture. She has a calculated plan, but who knows how she will execute it. A month after Phaethon returned home, she spots another harpy wandering along in the forest, most likely gathering food. She carefully climbs down her home tree, ensuring that no sudden noises will alarm the harpy. Once she comes down, she casually approaches them. They wander, talk, and gather food for a while… trying to seem peaceful at first. When the other harpy offers for Phaethon to fly alongside of them, she accepts. When she attempts to fly alongside the harpy, her previously grafted wings falter, and the altitude is slowly decreasing. Once the other harpy notices that she is falling behind, they reach out to Phaethon to help. Once their hands lock, something awakens in her. Restraint memories, shock therapy conditioning, and near-impact memory kick in from her memories of the experiments. She reacts on pure conditioning and impulse, bringing both of them down together. Only one survives the impact. The death was solely accidental. This visceral reaction was nowhere near planned. She starts shaking, and falls to her knees in the rough forest ground. But something clicks… not horror, not grief… she starts staring at the deceased harpy’s wings. Clarity. These wings still work. These wings are still fully functional. These wings are still FRESH. In her life as a subject, she has witnessed that you shouldn’t waste viable material. Don’t question outcomes. Survival always validates methods. She grabs a stick and sharpens it with a rock, and performs the same surgical technique she has witnessed so many times before to remove a chunk of feathers. She takes them because leaving someone to rot is irrational. That’s how she was trained to think… Phaethon takes the extracted feather grafts and the stolen food from the harpy she killed, and climbs back up to her home in the trees. After a hearty meal, she secures the feathers from the wind, and climbs back down to collect flower stems, leaf stems, and vines. Once she climbed back up, she did what she was so used to; put herself back together again. Weeks of recovery followed through something she never expected…success. The wings healed thoroughly without any major complications. She was even able to feel with her wings, as the damaged nerves somehow grew healthily and connected to the nerves from the other harpy. Phaethon almost cried… decades of wasted medical torture was only solved by natural remedies. She now had a game plan to bring herself back to life. After the first graft, she flew better. The wind picked her up better. She flew higher. She flew longer. The pain lessens, not fully disappears, but becomes more manageable. Her brain draws a straight, terrifying line: This works. Now her killings are no longer reactive, but preventative. She convinces herself that other harpies are “wasting” their wings, and that she needs them more than ever. The sky only has room for the strongest flyers. As she purposely kills more harpies and harvests their feathers, she denies the fact that she’s doing something deviant and wrong. It's natural selection. It’s a continuation of testing and experimentation. It's a reclamation of what she missed for so long. She avoids killing fledglings and ground harpies at first, as she has standards based from her first accidental murder… but those ultimately fade away, and she targets them too. Several years passed, the city bustles in fear of the missing harpies who never came back home, Phaethon finally reaches her goal. She is fully “clothed” with feathers. Each feather is a resemblance of the lives lost, but reclaiming freedom in her own way. She is able to fly like any other harpy. The wind carries her and connects with her as if they were meant to be. But more goals creep up to her… what would it be like to explore the ENTIRE WORLD? What would it be like to have FRIENDS? How can she be able to do all that if she keeps reminding herself of her past. How can she be able to hide her murders? She can finally be able to do what she wanted to do since forever; make a name for herself. The result? She made an oath to herself at dusk; “I promise to myself that I will be able to explore the world. See the sights that have not yet been seen before. I promise to myself that I will create a name for myself, and to share this journey with several people that I will meet along the way. I promise to be kinder, and to break free from who I was before. I promise to not hurt a single innocent soul for my own selfishness. I promise to do things I’d never be capable of doing prior. I promise to be myself.”That night, Phaethon sneaks around the capital of Sky Island towards the port. She sees a smaller, unattended boat and stares. She heard non-stop rumours about a mass treasure called the “One Piece” for the past 23 years. Then another idea clicked… What if I found the One Piece.

• Phaethon is the first non-DND One Piece OC!
• Erwin and Phaethon are good hunting buddies!
• 9 times out of 10 she met her crew by staking them from tall trees
• Phaethon doesn't eat birds, so Jaco has to make her an entirely separate dish if there is bird on the menu