Cptnslog - Tumblr Posts

[ from penguin ]

they are going to very quietly, very hush hush, slide this over all filled out. don't let law see though, he might get jealous.

all of the heart pirates are now his children!

rosinante was a bit surprised when he found out law became a pirateーbut also he nearly died to give law his life back and his freedom to go anywhere & do whatever he wanted so he couldn't complain. plus, now he has 19 extra kids!

@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.  ❞

[ hiding ] sender finds out that receiver has hidden an injury from them // (law) // [𝑵𝑶𝑵-𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑺𝑻 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺.]

　　　　❝ look, it's... it's fine... ❞

　the jig was up. after hours of the little boy giving rosinante sideways glances, making passing comments about just how much worse his already horrific balance was than usual, and questioning why he kept stopping so muchーlaw finally called him out on it. well, not so much law called him out on it, rather he quite literally kicked the answer out of him.

three hours into their trek to the next town, the spy reached his limit. his sprained ankle wasn't going to take him any further. not tonight, and not through the uneven terrain of loose rocks & jutting tree roots that was the forest floor. if he fell, there was a real concern he wouldn't be able to get back up on his own, and certainly not with the help of a twelve year old. and so, when he saw the entrance of a tiny cave at the base of a rock formation, a perfect shelter for the two of them, he jumped at the chance to convince law they should turn in early.

rosinante had it all planned out; he was going to send law to get some firewood, and use the moment alone to rifle through the little doctor's bag of medical supplies & fix himself up somehow before law even knewー

and then law kicked him. right in the heel. not intentionallyーhe must have just been walking too close & rosinante walking too slowーbut it didn't matter. the jig was up. rosinante was on the ground and yelping now, panting & muttering expletives for a solid thirty seconds before he finally composed himself up to speak again.

　　　❝ it's not a big deal. ❞ probably not the best idea to lie to a doctor.

　the outburst was met with the wary sigh of someone who expected that sort of reaction, but still somehow got their hopes up anyway. disappointed, but not with lawーhe was the one person rosinante could never bring himself to be disappointed in. because none of how law was acting was his fault;

he shouldn't expect a kid who, for the past three years, had been meticulously counting down the days until his death to not be bitter. he shouldn't expect a kid in this much chronic pain on top of all their exhausting hikes to not be irritable. he shouldn't expect a kid constantly being treated like he was subhuman by every stranger they've met to not be angry. and he shouldn't expect a kid he was dragging around from island to islandーconstantly retraumatizing him for what was increasingly feeling like no reasonーto not hate him.

　❝ ...sorry. ❞

law had every right to treat him like this, to treat the world like this, yet even so rosinante was disappointed. he wanted so badly to connect with this kid, to show him that he was on his sideーbut law had been let down so many times that nothing seemed to work. every word of his was misinterpreted, every action of his was annoying, even the silence between them (something law would often demand when rosinante's chattering got too much) seemed to piss him off.

this outburst was larger than usual, though, and the heart executive tried to retain every word of it. he wasn't going to get defensive, he wasn't going to sugarcoat it, he was just going to listen.

the blonde nodded and did as asked, a sharp intake of breath as he straightened his foot enough to slip out of his shoe and peeled off his sock, tucking one inside the other and setting it aside.

　❝ i wasn't trying to, i'm real sorry if i gave you that impression. i just... i'm making this hard enough on you, okay? and you might not think i feel bad about it, but i do. the last thing i want is you having to worry about me. ❞ he cut himself short before he could utter the words 'because i know you're in more pain right now' because he knew that kind of pity would get them nowhere. probably make things worse, actually. he couldn't afford that right now.

    how long was he going to keep this up  — trying to pretend there was nothing wrong? is he doing it because he is just a boy, because as a kid, law is supposed to be blissfully unaware? the possibilities as to why the man insists on tripping over an unstable, undoubtedly painful, ankle swim within the pensive little doctor's mind. either way, it was getting annoying. 

    it takes only one more out-of-the-ordinary stumble, after several hours of observing from behind, before features twist in irritation and brows crease downward. he's fed up with it. if corazón wouldn't just say something was wrong, law would make him.

    the movement is quick and quiet, almost unnoticeable, as law increases his walking pace to deliver as swift and hard a kick as his short leg will allow to the towering man's foot — the foot which was clearly being favored all this time. and as corazón goes down in pain, the boy's small frame doesn't even flinch. he remains stiffly in place, glowering down at the blonde with angry amber hues that almost appear to glow beneath the shadowy brim of his spotted hat. the stare is held for the minute or so it takes the grounded man to make light of the situation. it pisses law off even more.

    ❝ don't lie to me! ❞ he shouts abruptly, with small, pale hands clenched into fists at his sides. ❝ i'm not some dumb kid you need to baby! ❞ his chest heaves, he's already winded — from the trekking, the emotionally riled kick, the sudden yelling. it wasn't a good sign, but what about anything of his physical state is good at this point. it didn't matter. law didn't care. he hated, more than anything, being treated like a fragile, helpless child that need protecting from even the slightest inconveniences. 

    ❝ screw you. ❞ the tone is softer this time, as law's lungs work to regain breath. he drops down to a seated position, gaze finally leaving corazón as he slides his bag off shoulders, and shifts it to his lap to rummage around for supplies. but movement freezes again, briefly, for irises to glance up sharply, to shoot another glare at the blonde. ❝ take your shoe and sock off. idiot. ❞

     oh heyyy, what's little law got there? a knife. and he's not afraid to use it.

　　　oh god, law, no.

　rosinante is trying in vain to disarm the small child but it is proving difficult as he is waving the knife around wildly to ensure there is no safe opening.

　he may need to bribe him with a new issue of his favorite comic. or, if he was feeling mean, he could threaten him with the knowledge the only thing he's going to buy for dinner for them tonight is pickled plums.

    ❝ patients are a lot easier to talk to when they're asleep. ❞ the gremlin is definitely glaring up at Cora with those menacing amber eyes that always seem to be shadowed beneath the brim of his hat. ( little Law )

　❝ well, sometimes patients wake up when they hear noise, ❞ rosinante replied, tone neither annoyed nor mocking, but instead like he was playing along.

well, he primarily woke up because the pain medication he was given was starting to wane, but it wasn't a lie. for the last few nights, he was deliberate in not using his devil fruit powers; not only was his stamina running on fumes he couldn't afford to waste if he wanted to recover enough for them to finally get off minion within the week ー law said he would need at least two weeks, but rosinante was sure he could convince him if he kept being on his best behavior ー but it was too risky not to be in total awareness of his surroundings.

rosinante was heavily injured, and law ー having to split what little energy he had between caring for himself and caring for the older man ー wasn't better off. they were vulnerable, and the sounds around them were really the only indicators the pair had to potential dangers. he may not be able to defend law in his state, but they could still make a break for it.

that pain in rosinante's ribs alone was enough to knock the smile off his face, but the marine was doing his damnest to not let that show.

　❝ i didn't hear what you said, though. honest! at least i don't think so. i can never tell what words i dreamed up versus what someone actually said to me while i'm half-conscious. ❞

　　　❝ sorry! sorry... ❞

　hands shot up, palms out, and the roll of bandages ー well, more of a wad at this point ー sloped off his knee onto the floor. understood; rosinante's fault for not asking first. really, this whole thing was his fault.

even as the week's stretched on, rosinante wasn't sure where he fit in among the other members of crew yet. it still felt strange to call himself a heart pirate despite, according to law, apparently being the impetus behind the crew's formation. it wasn't that he felt out of place; law had gone out of his way to ensure he was comfortable, and everyone treated him with the kindness reserved for the captain's 'savior'.

but even so, he couldn't help but feel like he was still a guest here. and, more than that, someone who didn't have the authority to be dismissive or argue with the crew when asked to do something. even if he was technically not beholden to any rules, even if he was technically allowed to do whatever he wished on this submarine by virtue of being the cora that law was so indebted to, he still instinctually complied to any order given.

was it the remnants of his years of marine training? a desire to make law happy? because he wanted law's friends to think he was cool? all of the above? he still wasn't sure.

rosinante scooted himself until he was half-facing penguin, scooping up the gauze and, unnecessarily, re-rolling it before handing it to the other.

　❝ if i bothered him every time i got hurt, i'd be bothering him all the time. i don't really want to make a habit out of it, y'know? ❞ he offered penguin a thin smile, briefly taking his eyes off them to scan the room. he added, softer this time, ❝ please don't tell him. i finally got him to lay down after that all-nighter and if he finds out i got injured within two hours of being 'unsupervised', i'm convinced he'll never sleep again. ❞

  just another thursday?

   the response has the quartermaster skeptical. a hidden eyebrow raises as mouth presses together in a tight line, and their head cants slightly to the side. sure, it was just another thursday of restocking the medical bay's cabinets and drawers, and taking inventory to see what supplies may need to be picked up during the Tang's next surfacing. it was not just another weekday to find your captain's recently-discovered-alive, beloved, but horribly clumsy, savior rifling through said cabinets.

   it didn't look good, the angry flare of crimson that licked one thick stripe across the large man's shoulder. and though Penguin is not the highly skilled doctor that Law is, they know enough of the basics to recognize a third degree burn. they are also aware that simply pressing a piece of gauze to cover the evidence wouldn't suffice.

   any other Heart member and Penguin wouldn't hesitate in doling out a scolding to avoid another 'all-hands-on-deck' safety meeting with the captain's pointed stare directed at them. but to do so now didn't sit right. Law would make a big deal about this, likely get angry and upset ( to put it lightly ), but knowing this, the quartermaster remains calm. they weren't entirely sure why, but Penguin refrains from raising their voice and snapping in this instance. 

    ❝ stop. ❞  the tone is firm, but even. ❝ it's blistering and you can't even reach it properly. ❞ whatever supplies currently hugged within the pirate's arms are quickly deposited on a nearby counter. they approach, mouth shifting to crease into a perplexed frown. 

    ❝ i won't ask why you didn't want to tell the captain, but enough of us know first aid too. ❞ a hand extends with palm facing up, and fingers open and close a few times, gesturing in quiet request that the gauze be placed within their grasp.  ❝ i can do it. ❞

　　　❝ i - uh, sure! sure - ❞

　rosinante fumbled, caught between honoring law's demand for silence and his own eagerness to take every opportunity he could to talk. the older man had always been quiet, even as a boy ー but recently, he felt like his experience working under his brother's crew had rewired his brain.

his carefully instilled self-discipline to keep himself quiet at all times had gone out the window; the two of them had been traveling together for roughly a month, and just having the unrestricted ability to talk ー not having to look over his shoulder, not having to look for where he set his pen & paper down ー was a luxury he wanted to take advantage of. much to law's chagrin, clearly. he settled for a nod, large palms tenting themselves over the little doctor's, pinning the splints in place with an index & thumb and allowing law the space to slip his hands free.

rosinante took his brief role as physician's assistant quite seriously, watching law's movements and adjusting the placement of his own hands accordingly with each pass law made around his ankle with the wrappings. once law had wrapped it enough he was sure the splints wouldn't move, he let go and resisted the urge to fish for one of the last cigarettes he had on hand.

　flaunting one health problem he had in front of law right as he was in the middle of fixing another seemed in poor taste (not to mention, with law sitting so close to him, the very real risk of rosinante setting himself on fire was now a risk to both of them).

within thirty seconds, the agony of the last several hours ー the pain that pulsed upwards, from heel to glute with every step, stronger & stronger by the second ー felt more like a memory he had simply heard about rather than experienced himself. the donquixote couldn't help but tip his head back, a soft exhale passing into the open air.

there was still throbbing, still a sharp pain lying in wait to strike again the moment he next twitched any muscle in that foot ー but, for now, rosinante was over the moon, once again forgoing his promise of shutting up.

　❝ shit. that... that's better... ❞ he sighed dreamily, the relief evident as the features on his face began to smooth out. guess he didn't need that cigarette, after all. ❝ so much better... thanks, kid. ❞

   a barely audible grumble is let out in response as small, ashen hands pull a field kit from his pack. he doesn't want the apology or excuses, and he sure as hell doesn’t want the dumb, quiet, sympathetic look that corazón is giving him either. the pity irritates the boy even further, as if without it he doesn’t already know the full weight of his situation. stop it. stop looking at me like that! 

   what is the heart executive’s purpose in all of this? Law still doesn’t understand. what does the man think they’ll find? how many hospitals had they visited? how many more did he want to torture Law with by dragging him to, before finally realizing that there is no help for him? no one wants to help him. all of the townsfolk, all of the doctors and nurses and orderlies, they only see a walking, ‘contagious’ zombie, so why couldn’t this jerk just leave him alone, and let him die, like every other person in this shitty world had?

    ❝ be quiet, ❞  his tone is firm, breaths steadying as lungs gradually calm from the small amount of previous exertion. an effort is made not to look up at the man — he can’t take it. Instead amber hues remain shadowed beneath the brim of his hat, gaze kept down and focused on the injury in front of him. ❝ and let me do my job. ❞ his job, the skill that gives Law even a momentary sense of purpose to a quickly dwindling life. let him do this one thing so he can feel normal for a few minutes.

   dwarfed in comparison to the executive’s leg, the little doctor’s hands reach out to roll and cuff the length of a light-colored pant leg by a few inches, making the injury more accessible. at first glance, observant eyes immediately note the clear inflammation and swelling of the man’s ankle — ha, as suspected. the tiniest smirk itches to appear. 

   turning away for a moment, the boy retrieves a few items from his medical kit, depositing them beside the man’s foot — a little jar with a small, hand-written label on the lid, a beige fabric roll, white tape, and two folded pieces of what appear to be a malleable-type metal. from the jar, fingers scoop a cream-like substance, then begin applying it to the area of inflammation. and though his irritation at the heart executive seems never-ending, Law’s hands are mindful in their work ( gentle even ) in the way they handle tender areas. 

    ❝ that should start helping with the pain and swelling … ❞ the words are muttered under his breath, as if reluctant to share this information, yet also unable to stop himself from giving a proper explanation. but as he continues to quietly go about wrapping the swollen ankle with compression fabric, the perpetual scowl typically worn by the raven-haired boy almost seems to relax, even if by only a little. 

   it’s short-lived. just as features start to loosen, Law’s disgruntled frown deepens once more. the two strips of metal, shaped to fit snugly against either side of corazón’s ankle, cannot both be held in place by one hand while the other secures them in place with the tape. his hands are too small. 

   Law freezes to stare at the situation, analyzing, irises darting to one hand then the other, trying to figure out some way to make this work without needing another set of hands. stupid corazón and his stupid big leg. his chin dips further, eyes fixating on the ground as moving lips direct a mumble at the patchy, dry grass below. 

       ❝ can you ... can you hold this here? ❞