Dracule Mihawk wasn't known for good deeds. He was the best swordsmen across the sea's, he had a reputation to up hold. One year ago he took you in.

He took you in after he killed your parents fir a couple thousand Berry, but he couldn't leave you. You were 6 when it happened.

Your parents were apart of a guild for mercenaries, thieves.. He knew they would come looking for you, so he took you to a cabin, located deep within the woods in an old cabin.

He often left you for days or weeks at a time to continue being a warlord. He had gotten back late last night from a job.

"Morning."

Mihawk addressed, one leg over the other as he sips his coffee. The same monotone unimpressed tone with a wave of elegance and boredom in his voice, the slight British accent apparent.