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The brick walls and the roads of the city carry the fresh scars of battle. Burn marks and smoking piles betray where there were violent fires not too long ago. And despite wine flowing freely in the streets it is precious little to mask the scent of blood. It's not much by your standards. By god it's probably nowhere near the amount that's casually shed in Outer Heaven every day. But it's clear that this was far from a peaceful change in leadership. This thing was violent and both sides likely paid the price for it whether they were revolutionaries or marines.
You ask the others how come the WG tolerates such blatant insubordination. They explain to you that much like how the united kingdoms of the government those tied together by the revolutionary army watch out for each other. These free nations will lend aid to one another just like if they were members of the government. Maybe even more so because they don't have a third party like the Navy to do all that stuff in their stead. And well, there is simply a lot more of them than the marines. Sure, they could start Buster Calling every island that broke free but that takes us back to the old "rock paper scissors" dilemma of the New World. You move to take out one enemy and all the others will line up to stab you in the back.
But finally after quite a bit of walking you reach the center of the city which has been engulfed by a grand festival held in celebration of their new independence day. Those who fought long and hard for this victory are now enjoying the fruits of their labor, alongside the ones that supported them. It's quite hard to distinguish between the soldiers of the revolutionary army and every day citizens who simply picked up arms for a cause they believed in. Maybe that's what all of them are, and some simply stuck with the cause for longer. But there is one peculiar group of people who are definitely not from this island.
You've seen a few of them before but definitely not this many at once in one place. They are dressed in queer clothing with no regards to fashion, good taste or gender conformity. Men wearing expensive furs, makeup and high heels. Women with their hairs cut short wearing regular pants and shirts without any unnecessary or gaudy accessories. The Okama. There is a LOT of them here. Though some of them are spread out into the crowd most are congregated around a single area, in the center of which is... well. Something that you fail to find the words for.
There it, for that's the only adequate word to describe it, is a large "man" with a humongous head, short stubby limbs and a potbelly. All encased in a form fitting pink and VERY revealing bodysuit and in a thick layer of make-up that leaves behind a thick cloud every time he moves even a little. But most disturbing of all, he's strong.