Lazy 3 'o Clock SundayembersilverSeptember 13 2010, 18:54:37 UTC
He leaned until his back was resting against the opposite side of the crow’s-nest, eyelids at half-mast. It seemed the highest point of the ship was the only place he could get a little peace from the hectic role he filled. Thatch called it his ‘perch’, which quickly earned him a palm over the head-always resulting in the Fourth Division Commander frantically making sure not a hair was out of place. With a twinge of reluctance, Marco ran through his mental To-Do list.
Sneak sake to Oyaji without the nurses knowing? Check.
Keep Ace from setting the ship on fire? Check.
Keep Ace from drowning because he fell asleep again? Check.
Tie Ace to the mast with seastone to keep him out of trouble? Twice… Ace had talked Haruta into freeing him the first time.
Make sure no one tries to arm-wrestle with Jozu unless they’re his size? Check-though Marco routinely breaks that rule himself.
Get rid of the spiders he could see because Thatch is a pansy when it comes to those things? Check. Exasperated sigh…
Somehow manage to keep Ace and Thatch from causing an explosion with hairspray and fire? Miraculously, check.
Prevent Teach from raiding the kitchen for pie? Check.
The list went on and on, but it seemed to Marco as though he’d completed it all. Not a mishap to be found that hadn’t been taken care of. He’d even managed to keep the nurses from taking money from every commander in today’s game of poker. All in all, a good day. With a content sigh, Marco let his eyes slip shut and took in the moment of peace he’d been granted.
BOOM! POW! CRACK!
“What the hell, Vista?!”
Ace’s startled exclamation meant that Vista had been training with his swords and likely nearly lobbed the Fire Fist’s hand off… again.
“What the hell is that thing?!”
Thatch found another spider.
“Dammit, Teach!”
Teach got into the kitchen… even though Marco had locked that place up better than Impel Down.
“My arm!”
Someone tried to arm-wrestle Jozu again.
With a groan, Marco ducked his head so as to avoid being seen by the other members of the crew. Perhaps if they didn’t know where he was, he wouldn’t have to play mediator. As long as Oyaji didn’t give him orders, he’d be fine.”
Maybe Chopper, who was always there to patch things up.
Maybe even Zoro, with his quiet, stern fussing.
But not Luffy. Luffy, if he were to be likened to a family member, would be the older brother. Usually goofing off, sticking strange bugs in your hair, stealing your food at the dinner table, but ready at a moment's notice to defend his family, his crew, even to the death.
Yet nonetheless, every so often, Luffy would play the part of mother hen.
It might be after a battle, when you were hurt, bruised, unconscious, but very definitely alive and victorious. You would lie in Chopper's infirmiry, and despite the doctor's firm demands that he get out and go bother someone else, Luffy would sit there and wipe your brow and help you get the medicine down.
And for all of Luffy's strength, for all his childlike wisdom, for all his knowledge that he would be Pirate King and you would be right there with him when it happened, it was for these moments that you followed him, and called him Captain.
PaparazziembersilverSeptember 14 2010, 01:20:58 UTC
Paparazzi
"Why did you ring the Ox Bell!?"
"I- WHOA!" Luffy sprang to dodge an incoming volley of cannonballs, which tore through some of the scaffolding that had already been built to begin repairing Marine HQ.
A dozen odd cameras flashed in his face, causing Luffy to tumble and shield his eyes. Jimbei dashed in front of him and assumed his kata.
The journalists, however, were feeling reckless and brave, no doubt still riding a Whitebeard War buzz.
"Why sixteen times!" one particularly daring newsman asked, microphone mushi in hand as everybody ran and stumbled in circles.
"An inquiring public wants to know!"
"You'll all figure it out... in due time," said Rayleigh cryptically, which was no help at all in coming up with wild speculations but made a decent headline.
"Monkey D. Luffy, who are you!?"
"I'm!!" Luffy bellowed. "Ace's little brother! AND!!"
When Blueno first started experimenting with his new devil fruit powers, he had assumed they would only be good for spying on Califa in the bath.
So while Jyabura and Lucci practiced their transformations, and Kaku jumped off very tall buildings, and Califa threatened everyone with lawsuit, and Kumadori failed to die, and Fukurou refused to shut the hell up, and Nero did whatever the hell it was Nero did, Blueno made doors.
He made doors in the ceiling, in the floor, in trees, in the very air. Once, he even made a door in Califa's clothing. He never made that mistake again.
But it wasn't until until the members of the CP9 went undercover in Water 7 that Blueno realized he could not only make doors in people.
They had all met up at Blueno's bar to swap information, and maybe get a few drinks. Which soon turned into swapping stories and getting more than a few drinks. Which in turn became swapping dares and punches and trying very hard to clear out the entire stock of the bar.
It all started with where things usually ended up - with Jyabura hitting on Califa. Which became Califa tying Jyabura up, telling him in no uncertain terms that he was commiting sexual harrassment and that she would see too it that he was taken to the proper authorities. Upon which Kaku pointed out that they were the proper authorities. Kumadori insisted that the only way for Jyabura to atone for his sins would be for him to fall upon his sword, and as Kumadori unfortunately had not brought his, they must use toothpicks instead. So Kaku, Kumadori and Fukurou scrambled all across the bar on a hunt for the sharpest toothpick in the house.
Of course, Blueno wouldn't have anyone behind the bar but him, so through the air door the three went, back to their seats on the other side of the bar. Or so he had intended. But (and he tried very hard to keep this a secret) he was a lightweight when it came to drinking, and a trip back to their seats became a trip back to Lucci's lap.
Now Kumadori and Kaku on Lucci's lap would have been bad enough, but everyone knew Fukurou weighed as much as an elephant tuna, and once he plopped himself down it took a very determined man to get him to his feet again.
Lucci considered himself a very determined man. And Fukurou considered his new position across the room, halfway through the wall.
And flying at Blueno came 200 pounds of furry fury. In a panic, Blueno made a door in the first thing he saw, while bottles and glasses crashed down on his head, making him see stars.
That night Blueno learned that while cats could get dizzy, they could also recover very, very fast.
PaparazzihosekisamaSeptember 14 2010, 02:00:43 UTC
This is very nice! Please don't flee!
--
"Flaming" Attachan had made his living off shots of celebrities, but in the figurative storm that swept the world upon the death of Gold Roger, his best models fell out of the public eye. Everyone cared about pirates now, not fashion-conscious nobles; Yonkou this and Shichibukai that and the heavens only knew what else. It was all very confusing, and Attachan was easily confused in the least tumultuous of times. So he enlisted in the Marines.
As he would later tell his friends under the influence of strong drink, it had made sense at the time.
So he reported to the nearest base, at which point they would have accepted him with open arms had he not completely failed every physical aptitude test administered to him. The base's captain kindly told him that the World Government needed loyal and good-spirited civilians, too, which Attachan could only interpret as a slap to the face. So he dedicated his very being to getting in.
His life's ambition took only a week of solid stalking and picture-taking to realize, as the captain of the base had a low tolerance for having embarrassing photos of himself taken. As a punishment, or perhaps a reward, he was assigned to that notorious sea, the Grand Line.
Attachan thrived in the photography department. His photos were always the ones that made it to the official bounty posters; he was the man who had taken the definitive shots of this notorious bandit and that great pirate. He quickly rose through the ranks, and his career culminated in his documentation of the destruction of Enies Lobby by the rookie Strawhat Pirates. He recreated the public face of the Demon Child Nico Robin, he unveiled the bulk of the infamous crew, he discovered Cyborg Franky.
Attachan was set for life. He sat back and relaxed, until he learned of his fatal mistake.
He had left the lens cap on for his shot of Black Leg Sanji.
No! No, no, no! A perfect career, wasted. Down the drain. Attachan resigned in disgrace, weeping bitter tears. His friends tried to tell him that one mistake wasn't all that bad, but he didn't hear them over the breaking of his heart.
The formerly "Flaming" Attachan retired to South Blue and spent the rest of his days on a single tiny island without a Marine base, another victim of the horrors of piracy.
Artifical LightstrawberrymelloSeptember 18 2010, 00:18:07 UTC
The lights flickered.
Heavy thuds of booted feet coming down the stairs mixed with the screams and sobs and cries for help that drifted down the corridors to where Crocodile sat, in chains, on the lowest level of Impel Down.
The booted feet were dragging something, Crocodile could tell. Even in his seastone-weakened state, the weeks spent in Impel Down had honed his senses - he could tell when one of his fellow prisoners was about to do something stupid, he could tell when the guards were coming down to do their rounds, he could tell when the guards were coming for him.
This was something different. This was something new.
Crocodile shifted his weight, glanced over at Mr. 1. Their eyes met.
Perhaps this would be their chance, their chance to escape this endless hell of torture and hunger and unbearable weakness.
The lights flickered, and the steps came closer, came down the stairs and swept into the room, dragging the bloodied and beatedn figure of Fire-Fist Ace behind them.
Crocodile watched, and made no move. The guards and their prisoner passed through the room, deeper into the bowels of Impel Down.
Candy Is Dandy, But Liquor? 'Tis QuickergliblordSeptember 19 2010, 09:30:41 UTC
Zoro couldn't help but ask one day.
"Why do you always pack down so many sweets, Chopper? You're a pirate now."
Chopper sighed contentedly by the kitchen door, belly full of cotton candy. "Makes me happy," he said simply. "Besides, a true pirate eats whatever he pleases, without heeding the social mores, proscribed roles and stereotypes of mainstream society!"
Sanji lit up, finished with the day's cooking. "...You've spent a lot of time rationalizing this, haven't you," he laughed. "Don't worry, we all know you're a real pirate now. We're just debating what kind of pirate. At the very least you're not a full-fledged Candy Pirate: Those guys were the most hyper, gibbering idiots we ever fought."
Sanji gave Chopper a sidelong glance and then said "Though I don't know... you do get pretty excitable at times..."
"Shut up! I'll have you know that the so-called 'sugar rush' is a medical myth! It was all in their heads!" Chopper shouted, then clasped his hooves around his mouth in embarrassment.
"My my, yet another sugar-high outburst..." Sanji teased.
"Hmph. In reality, tons of sugar just makes you really sleepy. It's how I relax," said Chopper.
"That so?" said Zoro. "Well if that's the case, then I guess candy is dandy. But liquor's quicker."
"You know, Chopper, if you keep hogging all the sweets I just may have to upgrade you from 'emergency food source' to delicious cotton candy-stuffed venison a la mode," said Sanji.
"Eh?"
"Can I have mine with liquor?"
Sanji let out a nice long puff of smoke. "Absolutely."
"GYAAAAAAAA~"
Nami shook her head and facepalmed. "The only time those two aren't at each others' throats is when they're tormenting Chopper, I swear."
...Oh my god I can't even articulate how much I love this. *______* It's so right-I love how his new family is trying to engage and include him, but they just--wow, wrong topic. >___> And I love that Marco picked up on it, and ksdfsjg this is so awesome. ♥♥♥
Secrets (first time here!)ishimuraSeptember 24 2010, 21:26:36 UTC
The evening of Saul's funeral (he could never repay Garp for this) was the first and only time Kuzan had ever indulged in sake to this extreme. Sure, he was known at that point to live what he called 'lazy justice' and that extended to his likes for good wines, beers and other alcoholic beverages. But more than this he was an Vice-Admiral, a Marine and he felt that he needed to restrain himself at least to one glass or cup to be an example to the lower ranks. Besides it was better not to rise discontent and envy among them about the higher ups living the fat life while they had to settle with cheap grog.
It would have been even worse for the morals when a Vice-Admiral mourned for the death of a traitor to the World Government whose corpse only deserved to be thrown into the sea.
Right now he didn't care about morals, and reputations, and justice (what Sakazuki had done was justice?!). Not when he was throwing up at the side of the cliff, adding green stains to the brown on the knees of his trousers.
It cracked, the earth and grass around where he was clutching into the ground beginning to freeze; the sound mingled with Kuzan's heaving and the gentle rolls of the waves below. He felt so hot (heh, the irony) and shivered (even more ironic, considering what he had done to his friend), and licked his lips, the taste of sake and vomit making his stomach recoil once more and he curled into himself on his knees with a surpressed but loud groan of pain.
Minutes later his legs finally agreed again to support him. Standing up was a feat in itself - keeping upright with blurry vision meant a wholly different level. The solid ground under him heaved and lowered, turned and stopped worse than the sea ever had during a storm and his stomach reacted accordingly. It seemed to him as if he stood as high as he would when on the cliff's edge. Taking even a step forward thus was a act of courage. One that he took with shaking breath and a low curse, but his goal was set. It happened rarely he had one, but once he did he followed it through until he achieved what he wanted to see (he couldn't leave Nico Robin alone) - and this was personal anyway.
The dug over earth nearly covered the whole cliff, the workers having finished the hole in less than five hours in the morning. It had been a simply ceremony (but goddamn it was one) held by Garp who personally -and carefully- then lowered Saul from the cart into the grave and also helped Kuzan and the workers to cover the giant in earth. For such a moron sometimes, The Marine hero never told where he had gotten the cart from or with what money he paid the workers or how he had saved his friend's body from Sakazuki ("I want to kill him I want to KILL HIM") and gotten it onto a ship to bring it here-
(Again, he would never be able to repay Garp for this.)
But said he would wait for him at the other side of the islands. He had looked at the back of his retreating mentor before he muttered, "Thank you". Then he turned his back to him so that he never noticed how the elder man looked over his shoulder at him, a frown on his face.
Secrets (part 2)ishimuraSeptember 24 2010, 21:28:45 UTC
Kuzan finally reached his destination. Awkwardly with his long legs in his inebriated state he kneeled down and laid a hand on the wood, his friend's name written on the horizontal board. Just another act of treason in the eyes of the World Government in the long list he had committed and would have never thought of doing before of Ohara (like a flower bouquett for that very island). Not that it mattered here. Nobody knew of this place here except Garp and him now and Kuzan wanted it that way. It was just a tiny island in the ocean, nothing significant to be found here - except the body it hid from the world. The little, white cross was soon going be the only sign of whom had his last resting place here, after wind and weather and nature would have modelled the cliff's plane as if there never had been any person.
Kuzan let out a weary sigh. Tomorrow he would go back to his duties as Vice-Admiral of the Marines. Following orders, and morals, and the justice he himself had imposed on with. (Acting as if Saul had never existed).
Until then, he would mourn for his friend in any way the hell he wanted to.
His hand began stroking the cross. He let his eyes flicker close as finally some kind of peace settled in him.
----------
I'm sorry if I butchered Kuzan's character, but I think somewhere private after Ohara, he could have had a little breakdown due to Saul's death. Garp giving Saul a proper grave could also be the debt Kuzan has told about. Also sorry if the syntax sounds odd, I haven't written such a long (!) piece in a longer time.
Sneak sake to Oyaji without the nurses knowing? Check.
Keep Ace from setting the ship on fire? Check.
Keep Ace from drowning because he fell asleep again? Check.
Tie Ace to the mast with seastone to keep him out of trouble? Twice… Ace had talked Haruta into freeing him the first time.
Make sure no one tries to arm-wrestle with Jozu unless they’re his size? Check-though Marco routinely breaks that rule himself.
Get rid of the spiders he could see because Thatch is a pansy when it comes to those things? Check. Exasperated sigh…
Somehow manage to keep Ace and Thatch from causing an explosion with hairspray and fire? Miraculously, check.
Prevent Teach from raiding the kitchen for pie? Check.
The list went on and on, but it seemed to Marco as though he’d completed it all. Not a mishap to be found that hadn’t been taken care of. He’d even managed to keep the nurses from taking money from every commander in today’s game of poker. All in all, a good day. With a content sigh, Marco let his eyes slip shut and took in the moment of peace he’d been granted.
BOOM! POW! CRACK!
“What the hell, Vista?!”
Ace’s startled exclamation meant that Vista had been training with his swords and likely nearly lobbed the Fire Fist’s hand off… again.
“What the hell is that thing?!”
Thatch found another spider.
“Dammit, Teach!”
Teach got into the kitchen… even though Marco had locked that place up better than Impel Down.
“My arm!”
Someone tried to arm-wrestle Jozu again.
With a groan, Marco ducked his head so as to avoid being seen by the other members of the crew. Perhaps if they didn’t know where he was, he wouldn’t have to play mediator. As long as Oyaji didn’t give him orders, he’d be fine.”
“MARCO!”
Dammit.
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Prompt: Mother Hen
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Maybe Robin, the oldest woman of the crew.
Maybe Chopper, who was always there to patch things up.
Maybe even Zoro, with his quiet, stern fussing.
But not Luffy. Luffy, if he were to be likened to a family member, would be the older brother. Usually goofing off, sticking strange bugs in your hair, stealing your food at the dinner table, but ready at a moment's notice to defend his family, his crew, even to the death.
Yet nonetheless, every so often, Luffy would play the part of mother hen.
It might be after a battle, when you were hurt, bruised, unconscious, but very definitely alive and victorious. You would lie in Chopper's infirmiry, and despite the doctor's firm demands that he get out and go bother someone else, Luffy would sit there and wipe your brow and help you get the medicine down.
And for all of Luffy's strength, for all his childlike wisdom, for all his knowledge that he would be Pirate King and you would be right there with him when it happened, it was for these moments that you followed him, and called him Captain.
-----------------------------------
Prompt: secrets
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(The comment has been removed)
"Why did you ring the Ox Bell!?"
"I- WHOA!" Luffy sprang to dodge an incoming volley of cannonballs, which tore through some of the scaffolding that had already been built to begin repairing Marine HQ.
A dozen odd cameras flashed in his face, causing Luffy to tumble and shield his eyes. Jimbei dashed in front of him and assumed his kata.
The journalists, however, were feeling reckless and brave, no doubt still riding a Whitebeard War buzz.
"Why sixteen times!" one particularly daring newsman asked, microphone mushi in hand as everybody ran and stumbled in circles.
"An inquiring public wants to know!"
"You'll all figure it out... in due time," said Rayleigh cryptically, which was no help at all in coming up with wild speculations but made a decent headline.
"Monkey D. Luffy, who are you!?"
"I'm!!" Luffy bellowed. "Ace's little brother! AND!!"
He took another deep breath.
"FUTURE KING OF THE PIRATES!!"
And thus a legend was born.
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Dizzy
Reply
So while Jyabura and Lucci practiced their transformations, and Kaku jumped off very tall buildings, and Califa threatened everyone with lawsuit, and Kumadori failed to die, and Fukurou refused to shut the hell up, and Nero did whatever the hell it was Nero did, Blueno made doors.
He made doors in the ceiling, in the floor, in trees, in the very air. Once, he even made a door in Califa's clothing. He never made that mistake again.
But it wasn't until until the members of the CP9 went undercover in Water 7 that Blueno realized he could not only make doors in people.
They had all met up at Blueno's bar to swap information, and maybe get a few drinks. Which soon turned into swapping stories and getting more than a few drinks. Which in turn became swapping dares and punches and trying very hard to clear out the entire stock of the bar.
It all started with where things usually ended up - with Jyabura hitting on Califa. Which became Califa tying Jyabura up, telling him in no uncertain terms that he was commiting sexual harrassment and that she would see too it that he was taken to the proper authorities. Upon which Kaku pointed out that they were the proper authorities. Kumadori insisted that the only way for Jyabura to atone for his sins would be for him to fall upon his sword, and as Kumadori unfortunately had not brought his, they must use toothpicks instead. So Kaku, Kumadori and Fukurou scrambled all across the bar on a hunt for the sharpest toothpick in the house.
Of course, Blueno wouldn't have anyone behind the bar but him, so through the air door the three went, back to their seats on the other side of the bar. Or so he had intended. But (and he tried very hard to keep this a secret) he was a lightweight when it came to drinking, and a trip back to their seats became a trip back to Lucci's lap.
Now Kumadori and Kaku on Lucci's lap would have been bad enough, but everyone knew Fukurou weighed as much as an elephant tuna, and once he plopped himself down it took a very determined man to get him to his feet again.
Lucci considered himself a very determined man. And Fukurou considered his new position across the room, halfway through the wall.
And flying at Blueno came 200 pounds of furry fury. In a panic, Blueno made a door in the first thing he saw, while bottles and glasses crashed down on his head, making him see stars.
That night Blueno learned that while cats could get dizzy, they could also recover very, very fast.
-----------------------
Prompt: spaceship
Reply
--
"Flaming" Attachan had made his living off shots of celebrities, but in the figurative storm that swept the world upon the death of Gold Roger, his best models fell out of the public eye. Everyone cared about pirates now, not fashion-conscious nobles; Yonkou this and Shichibukai that and the heavens only knew what else. It was all very confusing, and Attachan was easily confused in the least tumultuous of times. So he enlisted in the Marines.
As he would later tell his friends under the influence of strong drink, it had made sense at the time.
So he reported to the nearest base, at which point they would have accepted him with open arms had he not completely failed every physical aptitude test administered to him. The base's captain kindly told him that the World Government needed loyal and good-spirited civilians, too, which Attachan could only interpret as a slap to the face. So he dedicated his very being to getting in.
His life's ambition took only a week of solid stalking and picture-taking to realize, as the captain of the base had a low tolerance for having embarrassing photos of himself taken. As a punishment, or perhaps a reward, he was assigned to that notorious sea, the Grand Line.
Attachan thrived in the photography department. His photos were always the ones that made it to the official bounty posters; he was the man who had taken the definitive shots of this notorious bandit and that great pirate. He quickly rose through the ranks, and his career culminated in his documentation of the destruction of Enies Lobby by the rookie Strawhat Pirates. He recreated the public face of the Demon Child Nico Robin, he unveiled the bulk of the infamous crew, he discovered Cyborg Franky.
Attachan was set for life. He sat back and relaxed, until he learned of his fatal mistake.
He had left the lens cap on for his shot of Black Leg Sanji.
No! No, no, no! A perfect career, wasted. Down the drain. Attachan resigned in disgrace, weeping bitter tears. His friends tried to tell him that one mistake wasn't all that bad, but he didn't hear them over the breaking of his heart.
The formerly "Flaming" Attachan retired to South Blue and spent the rest of his days on a single tiny island without a Marine base, another victim of the horrors of piracy.
--
Next prompt: artificial light
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Heavy thuds of booted feet coming down the stairs mixed with the screams and sobs and cries for help that drifted down the corridors to where Crocodile sat, in chains, on the lowest level of Impel Down.
The booted feet were dragging something, Crocodile could tell. Even in his seastone-weakened state, the weeks spent in Impel Down had honed his senses - he could tell when one of his fellow prisoners was about to do something stupid, he could tell when the guards were coming down to do their rounds, he could tell when the guards were coming for him.
This was something different. This was something new.
Crocodile shifted his weight, glanced over at Mr. 1. Their eyes met.
Perhaps this would be their chance, their chance to escape this endless hell of torture and hunger and unbearable weakness.
The lights flickered, and the steps came closer, came down the stairs and swept into the room, dragging the bloodied and beatedn figure of Fire-Fist Ace behind them.
Crocodile watched, and made no move. The guards and their prisoner passed through the room, deeper into the bowels of Impel Down.
Strawhat would be coming.
Crocodile made his plans.
--------------------
Prompt: candy is dandy but liquor is quicker
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"Why do you always pack down so many sweets, Chopper? You're a pirate now."
Chopper sighed contentedly by the kitchen door, belly full of cotton candy. "Makes me happy," he said simply. "Besides, a true pirate eats whatever he pleases, without heeding the social mores, proscribed roles and stereotypes of mainstream society!"
Sanji lit up, finished with the day's cooking. "...You've spent a lot of time rationalizing this, haven't you," he laughed. "Don't worry, we all know you're a real pirate now. We're just debating what kind of pirate. At the very least you're not a full-fledged Candy Pirate: Those guys were the most hyper, gibbering idiots we ever fought."
Sanji gave Chopper a sidelong glance and then said "Though I don't know... you do get pretty excitable at times..."
"Shut up! I'll have you know that the so-called 'sugar rush' is a medical myth! It was all in their heads!" Chopper shouted, then clasped his hooves around his mouth in embarrassment.
"My my, yet another sugar-high outburst..." Sanji teased.
"Hmph. In reality, tons of sugar just makes you really sleepy. It's how I relax," said Chopper.
"That so?" said Zoro. "Well if that's the case, then I guess candy is dandy. But liquor's quicker."
"You know, Chopper, if you keep hogging all the sweets I just may have to upgrade you from 'emergency food source' to delicious cotton candy-stuffed venison a la mode," said Sanji.
"Eh?"
"Can I have mine with liquor?"
Sanji let out a nice long puff of smoke. "Absolutely."
"GYAAAAAAAA~"
Nami shook her head and facepalmed. "The only time those two aren't at each others' throats is when they're tormenting Chopper, I swear."
Prompt: First impressions
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Reply
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It would have been even worse for the morals when a Vice-Admiral mourned for the death of a traitor to the World Government whose corpse only deserved to be thrown into the sea.
Right now he didn't care about morals, and reputations, and justice (what Sakazuki had done was justice?!). Not when he was throwing up at the side of the cliff, adding green stains to the brown on the knees of his trousers.
It cracked, the earth and grass around where he was clutching into the ground beginning to freeze; the sound mingled with Kuzan's heaving and the gentle rolls of the waves below. He felt so hot (heh, the irony) and shivered (even more ironic, considering what he had done to his friend), and licked his lips, the taste of sake and vomit making his stomach recoil once more and he curled into himself on his knees with a surpressed but loud groan of pain.
Minutes later his legs finally agreed again to support him. Standing up was a feat in itself - keeping upright with blurry vision meant a wholly different level. The solid ground under him heaved and lowered, turned and stopped worse than the sea ever had during a storm and his stomach reacted accordingly. It seemed to him as if he stood as high as he would when on the cliff's edge. Taking even a step forward thus was a act of courage. One that he took with shaking breath and a low curse, but his goal was set. It happened rarely he had one, but once he did he followed it through until he achieved what he wanted to see (he couldn't leave Nico Robin alone) - and this was personal anyway.
The dug over earth nearly covered the whole cliff, the workers having finished the hole in less than five hours in the morning. It had been a simply ceremony (but goddamn it was one) held by Garp who personally -and carefully- then lowered Saul from the cart into the grave and also helped Kuzan and the workers to cover the giant in earth. For such a moron sometimes, The Marine hero never told where he had gotten the cart from or with what money he paid the workers or how he had saved his friend's body from Sakazuki ("I want to kill him I want to KILL HIM") and gotten it onto a ship to bring it here-
(Again, he would never be able to repay Garp for this.)
But said he would wait for him at the other side of the islands. He had looked at the back of his retreating mentor before he muttered, "Thank you". Then he turned his back to him so that he never noticed how the elder man looked over his shoulder at him, a frown on his face.
That was hours and two bottles of sake ago.
Reply
Kuzan let out a weary sigh. Tomorrow he would go back to his duties as Vice-Admiral of the Marines. Following orders, and morals, and the justice he himself had imposed on with. (Acting as if Saul had never existed).
Until then, he would mourn for his friend in any way the hell he wanted to.
His hand began stroking the cross. He let his eyes flicker close as finally some kind of peace settled in him.
----------
I'm sorry if I butchered Kuzan's character, but I think somewhere private after Ohara, he could have had a little breakdown due to Saul's death. Garp giving Saul a proper grave could also be the debt Kuzan has told about. Also sorry if the syntax sounds odd, I haven't written such a long (!) piece in a longer time.
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Prompt?
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