Museum of What Once Was

You're writing a book on legends and myths huh …I guess I got some. Well whatever, even though they're not myths. Not a lot of people still want to listen to an old coot's ramblings… or at least that's what they call them. Now listen good, the government doesn't want the next generation to hear the truth, afraid it'll make them think on their own. Now that would be a tragedy wouldn't it? Ok get comfy; I'm going through the whole spiel, word for word of how I heard it when I was about your age. Now don't give me that look, respect your elders! Hmph!

In an old forgotten building, in the fourth room on the left side of the hallway is an old music studio. Propped up against an old dust-covered piano in that very same room is a violin. This particular violin's strings are frayed and the wood is warped and musty. As you open the window to let the dust out, the strangest of things happens. A draft of warm air breezes by and caresses the worn strings with an old familiarity and a faint, "Yohohoho!" is heard, and maybe you smell just a hint of the smell of sake on the wind.

If you happened to visit the old shipyard, be sure to see one with the lion's head. Yes, it's a lion's head, I'm a pro. Anyway, it was made by the greatest shipwright in the world and sailed the entire Grand Line, it even ended up in the New World a couple times. At the very top of the ship on the pole, right under where a flag would be hung, is a gold band. On that band, is the simple inscription of "In memory of Tom", and right underneath of it carved into the wood by some sort of sword in rough handwriting is "And Merry". Once an old man complimented its workmanship, and swears he heard someone say, "Thanks, I worked SUPA~ hard on it for Mugiwara-bro!"

Buried underneath mountains of donated clothes, is an old purple cowboy hat. There's nothing really special about it, with its faded color and worn fabric. At least, that's what it wants you to think. You see, it's a tricky old thing, just like its master. It doesn't represent some sort of promise or oath or whatever, but something else. It holds a history, its master's history of pain to be exact. Now the past is something to be studied and learned from and if by some power this hat could speak in tongues, it would no doubt sing praises to the one who saved its master from the darkness of solitude.

A worn pink hat rests in a place of honor in the greatest hospital in the world. It is rumored that it belonged to the man who discovered and cured every illness in his time, though it's only part of the entirety of the original hat. The other part is given to the most accomplished doctor of the year, but none has the courage yet to wear it. A reporter once was conducting an interview with one of the resident doctors and mentioned the previous facts and both people heard an extremely cheerful voice say, "That doesn't make me happy at all you jerks!"

Going back to the lion-headed ship, there are still more unexplainable things happening there today. If you waltz into the kitchen and say a simple phrase, which no doubt many of us have said before, "I'm hungry", the improbable happens. The echo of pots, pans, and other kitchen equipment will resound throughout the room and the aroma of smoke will appear. "Of course, after all it's a cook's job to feed the hungry". Of course, some woman feel like their being stared at, but that's a whole different story.

There is a rumor of a cursed mask going around the collector's world. It's not especially pretty or eye-catching. In fact, part of it is actually broken off, not to mention the yellow and blue paint is barely distinguishable. So of course, that's not why it's worth so much. The reason is the owner of the mask, once asleep, experiences strange, bizarre dreams. In the dream stands a young man with said mask on with unusually long nose. He then proceeds to tell outrageous stories that are obviously lies, yet you can't help but sit in rapt attention. Each night the stories become more and more profound, usually driving the owner insane.

We now go to a simple gold bracelet with no inscriptions or designs on it. It is worn by a young girl who found it buried in a wild orange grove. She can't help but love it, as it seems to radiate a warm sense of sisterly love and affection. She has now tamed the orange grove where she found the bracelet, which many had tried to do but failed as the oranges seemed to grow unhealthy for them. Of course, they not only grow ripe for the young girl, but extremely tasty as well.

We now go to a very famous dojo. It isn't hard to figure out what resides in a dojo, a katana. It has a pure white sheathe and hilt with a golden guard. It has been passed down through numerous generations. The dojo master, on the day he deems his students ready, will pick one student and give the beautiful katana to them. There is no distinguishing aspect that controls will get the katana, but the master hears a gruff voice who tells him or her which student to pick. Once the student gripes its hilt they feel a barrage of feelings, almost as if the sword is alive, and end up becoming a great swordsman. When the student has become a great swordsman, they see a glimpse of an intimidating green haired man with an approving look in his eye.

If you were paying attention, you know the last item is a ratty old straw-hat. Unlike most of the things I said earlier, it travels continually. It has had many wearers since its golden days, but none seemed to really fit in it. Eventually, the hat would disappear and end up on a new person. When they put on the hat, they hear a strange laugh,"Shishishi!", they vaguely see a young raven haired man surrounded by strange looking people. From a singing skeleton to a person who seems to be on fire. The raven gives them a blinding smile and laughs, "Good luck!"