[Action] ...I blame Ash (Hellboy-mun)

[skulljokelol]

[A few hours after Sanji's disappearance finds Brook at the bar. And no, that's not tea he's drinking for once. Despite that, he's not looking to drown his sorrows, just some time to collect himself.]

[After a little while, he's just going to stretch over the bar to pick something else to drink. Apologies in advance to any other patrons who might

Comments

Everything's always MY fault

[histruename]

[As Brook reaches across the bar for a drink, the front door behind him opens, and a rather large but familiar demon ducks in. He's looking far more put-together than he did two days ago, despite the bandage still wrapped around his middle. He's been to the clothing store, apparently, because he's found the rest of his clothes (which isn't much besides the jacket anyways.)

Hellboy sees that afro the second he walks in, and heads for the bar stool next to Brook, taking a seat.]

You didn't tell me they had a bar.

QUIT CONFUSING HIM HIS BRAIN IS BROKEN ENOUGH

[histruename]

Your biography?

AT LEAST HE HAS A BRAIN

[skulljokelol]

Of course not. If it were a biography, I would condense the chapters so that there would only be forty or so. [Sticking his feet up on the counter now and taking another drink.]

If he only had a braaaaain~

[histruename]

Okay then...twenty-four. [He says it with a wave of a hand and a swig of the bottle, thinking it's probably better not to ask.]

[skulljokelol]

It's been a while since I've thought that far back. There was a time when I used to have flesh and organs, believe it or not. And before I was a pirate. [And thus Hellboy gets the story of Brook all the way back when he was twenty-four] I was just getting into our kingdom's military service around that time - I started learning how to play the violin too in that year, if I recall correctly. It was easier to travel with than a piano.

[histruename]

Pirate, huh?

[skulljokelol]

Yes! That came later, however.

[histruename]

How'd you stumble into that gig?

[skulljokelol]

I met a man somewhere in my mid-thirties. He became a very good friend of mine and liked music as much as I do. One day he told me that he was going to sail to the Grand Line on a pirate vessel and asked me if I wanted to be his first mate. I agreed.

[histruename]

Simple as that. [He nurses his bottle, turning it over in his mind.]

[skulljokelol]

It was more exciting than the life I was leading at the time, and it turned out to be far mor fulfilling. I don't regret a thing about the decision.

[histruename]

Well that's a good thing, to make your own choices and not regret it. I haven't decided if I regret mine yet.

[skulljokelol]

Oh? Has more good or bad come out of it?

[histruename]

I can never tell for sure. So far I got chased out of Africa by lion gods, drown in the ocean, got a nail pound into my head by mermaids, bound in chains by a giant fish-witch lady, spent a chunk of time in Davy Jones's Locker, washed up on shore, drank with pirates that were actually skeletons, then got stabbed by a giant fish.

It...really isn't much different than before, except I'm not takin' orders from the Bureau now, so I guess that makes it worth it.

[skulljokelol]

[Sounds like the week in the life of a Straw Hat. You poor man.]

If you're doing what you want with your life, it usually is. [But-but] You've been to Davy Jones' Locker?

[histruename]

I'm guessing that's what it was. The Bog Roosh kept the souls of drown sailors in clay jars down where she had me chained.