@cptnslog Said: You Look Awful. What Happened? (penguin)

@cptnslog said: ❛ you look awful. what happened? ❜ (penguin)

　❝  huhーoh, this? this is what i call, uh... 'just another thursday'. ❞

　the donquixote had tucked himself away in the corner of the polar tang's operating theater, having just finished rifling through a cabinet of medical supplies. his boiler suit was unzipped and hanging off his waist while his eyes flittered back & forth between a mirror on the wall and a nasty patch of raw, red skin on his right shoulder blade, doing his best to wrap it with gauze despite the awkward angle. ❝ i just lost my balance and leaned on a steam pipe, that's all. ❞

his tone was unsettlingly cavalier for such an injuryーnow, at least. but it was only because rosinante had used his calm calm fruit to scream & curse to his heart's content for a good five minutes first before composing himself enough to work on treating it. just another burn to add to the list, he supposed.

　❝ more scars to add to my back. no big deal, i'm just... clumsy.  ❞

　❝ because no one else is apologizing to you, so i figured you'd want to hear it from somebody. ❞ especially if that somebody is the one who keeps putting you through this.

　the blonde prayed that the kid didn't pick up on how sympathetic his tone was (something that had lead to arguments about being patronized and 'treated like a baby' in the past) as he turned his back and busied himself cleaning up the remains of their campsite. he dug his heels into the base of a tree until he was satisfied with the grip, shimmying halfway up the trunk until he could undo the rope suspending their rations of food higher up out of reach of the wildlife.

it fell with a thud, and him down with it. he tried not to wince at the pinecones digging into his back. it's fine. he was fine. totally part of the plan. from his face-up position on the forest floor, he rolled his eyes at the new question.

　❝ no umeboshi, ❞ he promised bitterly. ❝ are you still mad about that? ❞

rosinante didn’t appreciate how law spoke about a favorite snack of his with the same guarded suspicion as if the plums were poison. not at all; to be honest, it stung, especially when he shared them with the intention of giving law something he thought was a treat. he loved umeboshi when he was law’s age, what gives? and why did criticism of your favorite things always seem to hurt more when coming from children?

　❝ y’know… for someone feral enough to stab me through my ribcage despite being warned my brother would skin you alive if he found out, i didn’t expect a little sourness to turn you into a such a regular, fussy kid. ❞

small  shoulders  were  slouched.  The  sterile  scent  of  disinfectant  with  the  subdued  hum  of  medical  machinery  mingling  with  the  hushed  whispers  of  medical  staff.  he  could  remember  everything  because  it  was  a  repeat  in  each  one  he  was  taken  to.  every  hospital  they  visited  was  the  same.  people  would  look  at  him  in  disgust  and  would  avoid  him  like  the  plague.  he  wouldn't  say  aloud  but  it  hurt.    his  life  was  limited.  the  clock  would  tick  as  if  taunting  him.  his  pale  complexion  and  splotched  skin  ;   a  deadly  reminder  of  the  poison  running  through  his  very   veins,  sapping  away  at  his  life  each  passing   day.  his  dreams  often  leading  to  what  awaits  him,  a  dark,  cold  &  empty  void.  he  sighed,  a  weariness  that  seemed  to  reach  into  the  depths  of  his  soul.  He  ran  a  hand  through  his  short  hair,  fingers  tangling  in  the  strands.   His  stern  expression  softened  momentarily  as  he  observed  the  blond.  the  genuine  remorse  in  his  words.   The  silence  between  them  was  palpable,  the  ravenette's  expression  was  a  canvas  of  fatigue,  lines  etched  deep  into  his  face  from  the  relentless  battles  he  had  faced  within  his  own  body.  

  the  small  breath  seemed  to  carry  the  weight  of  his  burdens.  His  fingers  absentmindedly  traced  the  white  splotches  decorating  his  arm  ❝  you  don't  need  to  apologize...  there's  no  point  to.  i  dont  know  why  you  keep  trying.  ❞   Law  finally  spoke,  his  voice  calm.  perhaps  it  was  acceptance  of  whats  to  come.  gold  irises  bore  into  his.  the  sound  of  grilled  fish  sounded  promising.   ❝  ...you're  not  gonna  slip  an  umeboshi  in  it  this  time  are  you?    ❞

many thoughts

Yeah

　❝ law didn't tell me anything, actually, ❞ the man clarified, trying his best to recover from the unplanned shift in his demeanor by smoothing out the tightness in his voice and loosening his posture again. ❝ i didn't even know you were alive.❞ that alone was a logical enough reason for him to have looked so caught off-guard & uncomfortable just then, right? that saved him from looking guilty & suspicious, right? he prayed it did, anyway.

rosinante took the clothes offered to him without inspecting what they even looked like. whether they were his style, or size, or what it didn't matter. the ex-spy in him was eager to blend in to the new, alien environment as quickly as possible (especially if his safety hinged on it), and the newly burgeoning guilty conscience in him was eager to just do whatever ace asked. he would be compliant. he would be agreeable. law wanted him here for a reason and he'd be damned if he was going to screw things up for law just because of a few uncomfortable elephants in the room.

　❝ i guess that explains the secrecy. i thought the kid was just being difficult for the sake of being difficult again. but, i'm still not sure why law wants me here, meeting a patient of his. i'm not a doctor, i'm just... ❞ an-ex crew member? an old friend? a caretaker? an estranged hermit that spent thirteen years looking for law having only recently reconnected? the man who viewed him as a son years before he could even bring himself to say it aloud, or that law would even be okay with it? there were so many different ways to phrase it, but only one felt right. all-encompassing. ❝ family. ❞

A  MERE  HUM  vibrated  within  the  thick  throat.  as  if  ace  was  weighing  his  choices  with  a  name  to  call  the  blonde  by.  he  didn't  mind  either  way,  but  since  given  the  chance  to  freely  make  a  pick,  the  fire  fist  after  all  nodded.  ❝  cora  sounds  way  cooler.  ❞  the  words  carefree  slipped  past  chapped  lips  as  they  formed  a  welcoming,  small  smile.  maybe  a  little  bit  crooked,  as  he  felt  the  tension  coming  from  this  man's  suddenly  stressed  posture.  

as  soon  as  ace  revealed  his  own  name,  everything  seemed  to  take  a  direction  to  the  unknown.  air  filled  with  odd  weighting  emotions  that  the  fire  fist  had  no  trouble  sniffing  out.  he  was  used  to  reading  people  by  their  sight  alone,  body  language  and  trembling  lips  often  told  him  more  than  words  would.  ❝  since  law  sent  y'here  then  you  probably  know  the  deal,  right  ?  ❞  it  was  brave  to  assume,  as  ace  felt  like  the  surgeon  of  death  would  spent  some  time  to  explain  this  man  why  arriving  at  this  particular  island  was  off  limits  information. 

❝  there's  some  ...  inner  things  y'gotta  know,  pardner.  ❞  the  ravenette  swiftly  placed  his  leather  bag  down,  fishing  out  clothing  that  the  heart  pirate's  crew  prepared  before  ace  left.  he  got  up,  having  the  fabrics  resting  in  his  palms  and  offering  them  up  towards  rosinante.  ❝  you  gotta  change  to  these  clothes.  this  island  ...  it  ain't  likin'  outsiders.  it's  better  to  dress  like  the  locals  here.  ❞  he  could  only  hope  the  blonde  wouldn't  put  up  a  fight  over  fashion,  or  complain  at  all.  everything  weighted  over  the  team  work  and  mutual  understanding  that  he  hoped  to  receive. 

later I’m gonna have him remove all the asbestos too