Through The Looking-Glass

Special Chapter 3: "The sniper's past! Vincent Turner!"

By Hide in Plain Sight




Whenever the crew sailed and Turner wasn’t talking to anyone or taking care of anything on the ship, he liked to sit high in the crow’s nest on the ship and clean his various guns. Sitting beside him were his four flintlock pistols, his musket and his sawed off double barreled shotgun. This was Turner’s time to think, and he valued the peace and quiet (even if most of the time he didn’t seem like the reflective type). Once in awhile, he would think back to the events that made him into the man he was today.

“Vincent! Come in for dinner!” Ten year old Vincent Turner froze, clearly a bit frustrated with his mother. The young boy’s messy brown hair fell over his green eyes which were narrowed in concentration. Fifteen feet in front of him was a sideways bucket that was filled with small stones. In his small hands was a brown wooden slingshot. “Now Vincent!” His mother shouted once more and Turner ran inside.

This memory brought a smile to Turner’s face. His parents were always quite strict with him but at the same time he had always been happy. His mother and father ran a small seaside café on an out of the way island. Turner spent his childhood playing on the beach and in the forest with his friends. And of course he spent hours with the slingshot. That was until he was fifteen…

Turner had grown up quickly. At the age of fifteen he was already closing in on six feet tall and the girls of the island found him quite attractive. This of course, combined with his love of practicing with his slingshot had led to his grades in school quickly declining, something that caused tension between himself and his parents.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Turner took four rapid shots with his slingshot and managed to knock four small birds out of the sky in less than ten seconds. When he was mad at his parents, shooting was his therapy. Out on the beach, he then heard a noise that was quite shocking; he heard slow clapping from behind him. He spun around to face a massive man dressed in full Navy whites.

“That was some fine shooting kid.” The man’s voice was far more jovial than Turner expected.

“Thank you sir.” Turner was surprisingly humble faced with such praise.

“What’s your name?” The man asked and Turner quickly looked around to make sure his parents weren’t nearby. Seeing that they weren’t, Vince smiled.

“Vincent Turner sir.”

“Well, Turner.” The massive Marine let out a booming laugh. “I’m going to call you Quickshot.”

“Quickshot Turner…” Turner said to himself. “I like it.”

“Glad to hear it.” Turner didn’t know what to think when the man undid his leather shoulder holster, which held an old flintlock pistol. “Hey Quickshot, I want you to practice with this gun until you turn 18… and then I want you to enlist.” The man ran off before Turner could say a word.


Even though Turner never did find out the Marine’s name, he took his words to heart. He became obsessed with becoming the best marksman he could be and he practiced day and night with his pistol until he eventually became a Marine.

However, Turner did not last long as a Marine. He hated the rules and restrictions and he eventually got discharged for “improper conduct” after only a year.

“Sorry Captain.” Turner started to pull on his shirt as he backed away from the much bigger man.

“What do you mean, 'sorry!'” Captain Rogers Bunningham was shouting so loudly the entire ship woke up from a deep, grog induced sleep. “I catch you in here! Doing that! With my younger sister!”

Turner watched the young woman run out of the room wrapped in bed sheets. Her blonde hair flowed down her back as she fled. He then figured he could talk his way out of it. “To be fair, she came to me.” Turner said coolly. As it turned out, this was the wrong thing to say. The massive Marine captain roared and picked Turner up and threw him out the window.

Turner crashed into the water and he swam to the surface with a shocked expression on his face. “YOU ARE NO LONGER A MARINE QUICKSHOT TURNER!” This shout was followed by a large canvas bag hitting the water.

“At least they were nice enough to throw my stuff out to me.” Turner mused as he grabbed his stuff. It took him twenty minutes to swim to shore.


And soon after, Turner got himself a menial job waiting tables at a bar. It was here something happened that changed his life forever.

Turner was sitting alone at the bar nursing a drink when a burly man tapped him on a shoulder. “Can I help you?” Turner asked him coolly.

“So… Quickshot… your reputation proceeds you.” Turner’s eyes lit up. He knew what was coming next. “I challenge you to a contest. One knife a piece. Closest to the bull’s-eye wins 1000 beri.” Turner grinned. That was a whole lot of drink money.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Turner shook the man’s hand even though he didn’t have anywhere close to 1000 beri to his name. Turner motioned for the bartender to slide him a knife. “From right here alright?” Turner asked his opponent, who was clearly shocked by this question. The worn target was all the way on the other side of the room. Turner rolled up the white sleeve on his right arm and flicked the blade up in the air, catching it near the tip. He then closed one eye, concentrating for a brief second before letting the blade fly. His aim was true and it struck the target directly in the center of the bull’s-eye.

“I don’t believe it…” The burly man in the brilliant red jacket had no choice but to hand Turner his money before storming out. Turner quickly bought himself another drink and prepared to enjoy the night.

A few minutes later, after having another couple of drinks, another man approached him.

“Have you ever considered going out to the Grand Line?” This question caused Turner to laugh.

“Already tried that. Got kicked out of the Marines.” Turner answered with a bit of an attitude. “But I guess anything is better than rotting here.” The mysterious man sat down across from Turner and smiled at him.

“I’m Jabber… and I’m putting together a crew of pirates.” This caused Turner to raise an eyebrow. He didn’t expect him to be so blunt about what he was doing. “And we need a sniper.”

“A pirate sniper… I’m a former Marine.” Turner remarked. “They’d come after me.”

“You’re going to be a pirate. They’re going to come after you regardless.” Jabber pointed out. Turner took a deep breath and eventually held out his hand to Jabber, who shook it.

“Like I said, anything is better than sticking around this place. I’m in.” Turner announced.

And just like that, Turner had become the third member of Carroll D. Jabber's pirate crew.


Name: Vincent Turner
Epitath: Quickshot
Age: 21
Position: Sniper
Bounty: 250,000 berri
Devil Fruits: none
Abilities: uncanny aiming skills with any sort of projectile, incredibly fast reaction time, ability to blend into his surroundings
Weapons: a number of small throwing knives stashed on various spots on his person, two flintlock pistols and a scoped flintlock rifle. He is also known for using anything around him like a throwing knife, anything from a pen to a pebble to a spoon. He can use almost anything as a thrown projectile with uncanny accuracy.
Appearance: Quickshot is of slightly taller than average height with a thin but muscular build. He has medium length shaggy light brown hair and brilliant emerald green eyes. He wears a white shirt that is unbuttoned and black pants
Personality: Quickshot is a confident and charming young man. He is known to be skilled at biting sarcasm as well. He enjoys his life and this shows in his happy demeanor. He does have a bit of a problem controlling his temper though.


Next Time: The crew hits the big time! It's time for the Grand Line!