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Little angel from the Holy Land,
Wandered lost across the sand.
Tired from his travels far,
With wounds that had yet to scar,
Weary from the desert’s sting,
Stopped to sit before a spring.
Doflamingo was more tired than he had ever been before in his relatively short life so far, dry eyes staring blearily into the refreshing water balefully. He was thirsty. He was very, very thirsty. But he knew he couldn’t get his hopes up. This wasn’t the first oasis he had taken shelter at in this godforsaken desert, but perhaps the seventh. Each and every time he had previously stumbled upon one, he was met with vicious reptilian guardians who madly defended their territory against his intrusion. He had no reason to believe that this spring would be anything different than the others, even though it was pretty puny…maybe the size of his bedroom back home, at most.
It would be fine for him to sit in the cool grass, letting the shade of the scarce trees wash over his sun-blistered skin. His wings—tucked around him like a coat, disguising them from recognition—felt brittle and itchy but he was thankful for their protection. Sitting had not woken the ire of the guardians, but trying to take their water or even touch it certainly had. So he would just sit for a while, maybe sleep if he could manage it, and move on.
"Why are you just sitting there?"
He nearly jumped out of his own skin when someone addressed him, leaping up into a defensive crouch as he glanced around. The young angel’s eyes fell upon what must have been the source and blinked, anxious expression falling into a relaxed grin of relief as he saw that it was another boy.
He was a few years older with shoulder-length black hair that was kept slicked back—it looked damp, as if he’d just been swimming—and eyes the color of gold. But upon closer inspection, Mingo realized that the other boy’s skin seemed to be leathery, a distinct scaly texture that could only be described as reptilian. He was dressed in a plain white tunic belted over brown shorts, his legs and feet bare as he stood in the shallows, arms crossed over his chest. Where the tunic exposed it, he noticed what appeared to be bandages wrapped around his upper chest. Wrists and ankles were adorned with gold bangles and a set of rings sparkled on his right hand, each bearing a different precious stone.
[ Art used with permission by the artist <3 ]
Swallowing, the younger boy’s smile twitched a bit as he shrugged.
"Just catching my breath before I move on," he replied.
"Don’t you want something to drink? You look like shit."
Mingo winced, grin dropping into a frown. The other boy’s voice kinda sounded…lighter? Weird. Well, whatever, it was none of his business, anyway.
"Thanks for that, but no way. I know what’ll happen if I try."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, you’ll attack me," he gestured at the raven-haired boy accusingly. "Just like all the other shitty oasis lizards."
"Crocodiles, actually," the other boy corrected.
"Yeah, fine, whatever. Point is, that’s apparently how it works down here. I try to take a drink of water, or even step into the stuff, you turn into a lizard—"
"Crocodile."
"—and run me off. It’s dumb as hell!"
"Unfortunately for you, that is how things are here,” he supplied, watching the younger boy closely. “Water is precious in this kingdom and we are sworn to guard the springs. Quite frankly, I find the task…beneath me.”
Mingo raised a brow, suddenly interested in hearing more about this, especially given the other boy’s decidedly bitter tone.
"Then why don’t you just quit?"
"It’s not that simple," he muttered with a scowl. "Or I would have, long ago. Tell me, in all the other attempts you’ve made, did any of the guardians once leave the water to chase you?”
"No, they just kinda…stayed…in," Mingo replied, realization dawning on him. "Wait, you mean they’re stuck—you’re stuck—in the water?”
“Bound to it, yes,” the older boy confirmed, wrinkling his nose as the angel began to laugh. “Our bodies are not meant to be out of water, as we were made from it in order to protect it and thus never stray away from its touch. Each guardian is bound to a spring and if that spring should dry up, then so does whomever was watching over it.”
"That’s so lame," Mingo snickered, grinning again. "Must get boring."
"You have no idea.”
"So why tell me all that crap, anyway?"
"Because I’m willing to make a deal with you."
"A deal?" the angel blinked, tilting his head.
"Yes. A deal. Look over there," the raven-haired boy pointed, Mingo following its direction.
Under a cluster of trees was a strange fruit of some sort, having fallen down into the grass. It was shaped like a pyramid and bore a swirled purple skin. Blinking for a moment, his eyes widened behind black sunglasses before he turned around to face the young guardian again.
"That’s a Devil’s Fruit, isn’t it?!"
"It is," the older boy nodded, uncrossing his arms. "And hopefully one that will let me leave this place for good."
"How do you figure that?"
"Because if it is a Devil’s Fruit that lets you change your body into another substance, I won’t be made of this spring anymore…”
"And you could run away!" Mingo concluded with an eager smirk. "Hey, I’m a runaway, too! So, what, you want that fruit, right? What’s your deal, then? What do I get in return if I get it for you?”
"All you can possibly drink from this shitty oasis," he gestured to the water he was standing in. "There’s also some fish you can catch to eat, too. So what do you say? Do we have a deal?"
Mingo seemed to consider it for a moment, tongue stuck out between his teeth before he gave a nod, rushing over to collect the fruit. Part of his mind was screaming that this was a trick to get him to come near the water, another part telling him to just take the fruit and run for it. After all, Devil’s Fruits were worth a fortune if you knew where to take them—and he did—and it would set him up for life. But there was something about the other boy that made him toss the idea, returning to the water’s edge with the fruit held out at arm’s length, grinning like a loon.
Runaways had to stick together, didn’t they?
"What’s your name, anyway?" Mingo asked as the older boy carefully plucked the fruit from his outstretched hands.
"Guardians do not have names," he mumbled, peering down distractedly at his long-elusive prize. "We are simply children of the great river god, Sobek, undeserving of such titles."
"Psh, well that’s a load of bullshit," the angel laughed, watching with an eager expression. "Well, I can’t just call you ‘lizard’…"
"Crocodile!" the older boy snapped, glaring up from the fruit he was just about to eat.
"Crocodile…" Mingo repeated, tapping a finger on his chin before nodding. "Heh, alright. From now on, you’re Crocodile. My name’s Doflamingo."
"Do-Flamingo…I should have guessed from the coat,” Crocodile snorted, offering a sharp grin before he opened his mouth again and swallowed the fruit whole.
Moments passed and the two boys stared at each other as if expecting something impressive to happen. When nothing did, Crocodile shrugged and stepped forward to loom over Mingo with a hungry grin.
"Oh well, I suppose it was a dud…I can at least make a meal of you for the trouble, though," he muttered darkly.
"H-hang on! Look!" Mingo squawked, backpedaling and pointing madly at the other boy’s feet. "Look where you’re standing!"
Crocodile blinked, looking down at his feet and realizing with widened eyes that he was out of the water, toes curling into the warm sand that surrounded the edge of the spring. Sand…it was dry and gritty and felt amazing on his skin. Basking in the new sensation, he took another step away from the water and raised his hands upward, feeling that same dry warmth rise up to his fingers and marveled as small pools of the substance formed in his palms.
"I’m free.”
"Where, um…where are you gonna go from here?" Mingo ventured, looking hopefully up at the other boy. "Now that you can."
"Now that I can?" Crocodile repeated, looking at the angel again and smirking, no longer looking as if he intended to eat the kid. "Wherever the hell I want."
Before the angel could reply, the older boy took off at a sprint, dashing beyond the border of the oasis and to the rolling dunes beyond. He called to it with his arms outstretched, swirling ribbons of sand embracing him and Mingo stared in awe as the boy turned not into a typical crocodile as the other guardians had, but one made of desert sandstone with golden claws and glittering spines running down his back. This creature dove into the dunes with a delighted roar and was gone.
Mingo stayed at the oasis for several days, hoping—secretly—that the boy would come back. But after nearly a week and no signs of Crocodile, the angel decided it was time to move on. Trudging out into the blistering heat with a supply of fish and a refilled canteen, he wondered if maybe their paths would cross again in the future. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his souvenir from the spring: a discarded crocodile tooth he had found while fishing. With a piece of the other boy in hand, he would surely be able to track him down using his abilities: after all, he was the Angel of Smiles—or so his mother had told him—and nothing was more physically tied to that than teeth were. When he was able to use his abilities better, he could trace the tooth right back to its owner and check in to see how his favorite lizard was doing.