(Untitled)

[skull_joke]

Characters: Sanji and Brook
Time: Before and during the blackout, while Franky and Usopp are busy getting run over repeatedly by fairies.
Location: Blackstone hotel.
Content: Fussing, freakouts, and possible f-bombs.
Format: Prose
Warnings: Sanji swears a lot and Brook is...Brook. A lot.

Comments

[love_hurricane]

"Nnh?"

The cook grouchily rolled over, opening his eye blearily to observe the skeleton entering the room carrying some ridiculous collection of... somethings, what had he gone out for again? Oh who cared, probably something thoughtfully meant but disastrously executed as usual. Attempting to push himself into a sitting position sent a rather uncomfortable sensation shooting around the lower section of his back, so he decided that pretending to be more conscious than he was whilst staying lying down would have to do for the time being.

"Oh. So you didn't get mauled within an inch of your life then? Why am I slightly disappointed." He pressed the side of his temple, trying to recall exactly why there was a risk of being horribly maimed if you went outside, and where the outside was and what it was the outside of and where the everything he was situated in was.

He decided to stop this as it was only making his head hurt, which it already did, so he didn't need to give it any assistance in the matter.

[skull_joke]

"Well of course I didn't, that's silly," he said, far too happily. "I already died!"

There were various rustly paper packaging noises as the foodstuffs made it into a more or less successful pile atop the ottoman in a corner; the tea he relocated to a safer spot in an unused space on the desk and made his way over to Sanji with-

"You've got coffee, if you still want it. And some dinner, too." Yes, he was hovering. He hovered. He was a hover-er. There was no escaping it really, short of throwing him out the nearest window and basking in the minutes it would take him to climb back inside and resume his hovering ways. That's what you get for still having blood and then losing it all over the place and making him worry, young man. That's. What. You. Get.

... :(

[love_hurricane]

"Ah. Of course." Really, by now he ought to have known better than to supply the dead man with more material.

Still, the combination of the scent of caffeine in the air and his system starting to pump the residual blood around his brain started to clear up the muggy confusion that he had woken up into. Chicago, that was it; he was in a hotel in Chicago, wherever Chicago was. Ignoring any complaints his body had about the idea, the cook sat up, ruffling the hair on the back of his head with a begrudging; "Mm, thanks." He needed to get some fuel into his system- even Sanji's remarkable stubbornness couldn't dissuade him from acknowledging this, as his nose finally kicked into gear, sniffing the air dubiously.

"... You did say coffee, didn't you? What kind is it?" It didn't smell like anything that he would personally call coffee.

[skull_joke]

The urge to hover was placated somewhat by this small success; though Brook himself was a confirmed tea addict for life and beyond, he was of the opinion that similar beverages occupied more or less the same ecological niche and were thus all equally good for you. Even cola, if you swung that way.

"It's a mocha, isn't it?" he said curiously. "If someone's botched the order I can go back."

[love_hurricane]

Taking the said alternative beverage from his companion's skeletal metacarpals, the cook sniffed the 'aroma', or what there was of it, of his supposed mocha.

"It seems to have the right ingredients..." From the way he said it evidently this only equated to having put the correct chemicals into a vial of sorts, preparation for consumption optional. Still, it wasn't like he was going to waste it, and how bad could it be?

Evidently, not brilliant, but not poisonous at least.

The blonde swallowed, pulling a not ungrateful face, but a very disapproving one. "Gh- the hell is this shit? How do you even remove flavour from coffee?!" It was... bland. Less than that, for all it was scorching hot, the only word that could describe what was in that cup was 'insipid'.

"This is what they drink here?! How the hell have you survived for so long?"

[skull_joke]

One benefit to no longer having a proper face was that no one could tell when you were grinning like an ass. Not that Brook had ever minded people knowing, but in this instance, had he given the matter any thought, it probably spared him some further grouching. But he hadn't given that any thought, nor would he. All that mattered was that Mr. Sanji was being grumpy about other people's food preparation skills again, and perhaps it was a bit absurd how happy that made him and perhaps it wasn't.

"Yohoho! I don't mind! I rather enjoy their tea, myself." And indeed, here he straightened, satisfied that things would be all right, and went to recover his tea, which was still waiting patiently on the desk. Brook was, admittedly, not especially picky about his tea anymore but even by his rather forgiving standards he thought it was all right.

[love_hurricane]

Downing another three mouthfuls in one go (best to reduce the amount of time his palette was exposed to his stuff, he figured), the cook winced at the experience slightly whilst casting an eye over at Brook's own drink.

"Hn, well that's alright then, I guess... how have you been holding up here, anyway?" He managed to crack a roguish grin at the skeletal gentleman; "'They got a good supply of milk here? How about Franky's cola; he seemed as well stoked as usual." Of course, this salvo of questions was not at all a replacement for the bombardment of concerns for the duo that one might have suspected the chef held for the musician and the carpenter. Oh no, not at all.

longest post-hiatus recovery time ever |D HI THERE

[skull_joke]

"Oh--yes--only we've had just the most peculiar time rummaging about for supplies," he said, and absently parked his bony rear on the edge of the desk. That particular article of furniture hadn't really been constructed with the thought of supporting someone's weight in mind, but skeletons who weren't paying attention could get away with that sort of thing.

"It isn't that there's a shortage...I think there might be too much. Poor Mr. Franky was awfully cross with all the varieties of cola we had to sort through to find the right one; they've nearly all got fruit or they're green or possibly intended for cyborgs with medical disorders. A man told me they've got ten types of milk here too, only I don't mind that. I think he was a wizard." What, that was relevant.

I WAS STARTING TO THINK YOU'D DIED oh wait

[love_hurricane]

Sanji wasn't quite sure what to do with that particularly bizarre bombardment of data, as he decided to quirk his eyebrow on the last article of information that his brain had grabbed hold of; "A... wizard?"

Well, there had already been mention of vampires.

"Sounds like this place isn't so unlike the Grand Line after all..." Draining the last bitter dregs before throwing the container sharply across the room into the bin like it was pure poison just to hold, the cook shuffled to sit more upright, looking slightly more like himself now that he had some focus and caffeine circulating his brain.

"So, as far as we know, we're the only three here. We're in a place called 'Chicago' which is inhabited by vampires, wizards and god knows what else. We arrived at different times, and not in the order we were dispersed..." A hand went to scruff the hair on the back of his head in frustration before he gave a dry laugh. "I guess that makes this a 'mystery' city, huh?"

...I did die. :D Also do you want to have the power go out soon?

[skull_joke]

Brook was still for a moment, tea paused and forgotten halfway to his lack of a mouth. "Why..."

Then he was giggling, for once not too suddenly or far too loud, though as it grew he struggled in vain to stifle it and the dry bones of his fingers faintly clattered against his teeth. "Why it does, doesn't it!"

Good heavens, he missed Luffy. He missed everyone, not that 'everyone' was anything but a number you didn't name because it kept getting bigger every time you looked at it.

"Yoho--oh--oh my. Ahem. Yes. That's...that's more or less the shape of things, Mr. Sanji."

Sure thing, rock-star!

[love_hurricane]

It was beyond the cook to keep from joining in with a wry smirk, but again, half of his mouth wasn't agreeing with the whole idea of curling upwards, which resulted in the whole thing rather lop-sided and consequently rather unsuccessful as far as smiles went.

Stupid kid, he'd better be okay.

"Well, it's not exactly brilliant, but we've landed in worse situations." Well, respectively- although they had at least been together then. Not that this was something to dwell on. "I figure putting our heads together on the matter might help more than each of us freaking out about it on our own- any idea when Bucket-head'll be back?"

livin in the south blue~

[skull_joke]

"Not really, no," Brook said, in a way that did not very well conceal the fact that he wished he did. Mr. Franky might not have been frightened of the things that were outside in the dark, but Brook was okay with being frightened enough for all of them. "The cola supply's terribly unpredictable, as I-"

Speaking of things that were both unpredictable and frightening, that was when the lights decided to go out. All the lights. Everywhere.

Good job jinxing it, Sanji!

At that precise moment there was a sound like an unnaturally-sized field mouse being murdered. Say what one liked about the old bundle of bones; even without lungs he had a serious set of pipes and everyone on their floor likely heard that one perfectly well over the unnaturally sudden storm.

Baaah! Aint got no beard~!

[love_hurricane]

Sanji wasn't one for jumping, or being afraid of the dark, but one had to forgive the chef for flinching at the ear-splitting shriek let off not two feet off from his unlucky eardums.

"Gk! Goddamnit Brook do you have to make such a freakin' din?! The lights just went out, that's all."

Despite the bitter reassurance in his voice, however, the cook was aware that it was entirely likely that this was not all. How the lights in this place even worked was still something he didn't have a clue about, and what it meant if they all suddenly went off at the same time was equally mysterious. Besides, they already knew this city was habituated by creatures that would do more than go bump in the night. Flicking a match into life, his supply miraculously having survived the journey he looked about for something that would last longer than the meager halo of light.

"Tch, any idea if they've got candles or some shit around here?"