[ Sanji laughs softly as Shanks' continues to talk about his Captain, a fond smile playing over his face as he thinks about him– about how much better his presence makes everything– as he tries not to get swept up in the wave of regret that he's disappeared again.
That's one of the great crimes of this place, in his opinion, seperating people from their family and friends– and their dreams, too. Doubtlessly, he's somewhere with the countless statues that are spread across the hallways of the Peacock, just another decoration to everyone but those that know his face, and while Sanji could go and look for him, he doesn't want to. There is no joy in Luffy's presence if he's silent and still, as statues are, nothing of the warmth and brightness he exudes so easily.
So– yeah, in this case, he'd rather not try to find him. He– and Nami and Zoro– will soothe their hurts in other ways.
None of which is relevant now. These kinds of exchanges are good for the heart, after all. ]
Yeah, I, uh, I know what you mean. [ That fond smile is back, a gentle curve of his lips as he glances down, thinks back to the days they spent on the Konomi Islands, and laughs before looking back up. ] Once saw him destroy a tower with a single kick just 'cause someone hurt a friend and pissed him off. I was right there with him, beating the crap out of some of the pirates.
[ For a moment, he just stares at Shanks, the look on his face considering before he nods once. Yeah, yeah, he can believe that because nobody knows how deeply one man can inspire a child with just one or two simple acts of kindness. ] Yeah. You, uh, must've made a big impression on him during that time.
[ It's true, even for Shanks. Luffy is like a bright light that warms everything around him. It's not the same without him, but Shanks doesn't want anyone he cares for here. Unless they are here, then he's going to enjoy every last second with them. ]
[ Shanks has gone looking for Luffy's statue, and found it. He sat with it, drank with it, talked to it, and left it a cup of juice. He could tell the others, if they asked, but they don't, so he doesn't say. ]
[ Talking about Luffy is one way of keeping his spirit with them, Shanks feels. ]
[ To hear what Luffy did, Shanks laughs, impressed. ]
One should never mess with my friends. [ He chuckles. ] But that level of it reminds me a lot of my former captain.
[ His cheeks feel warm at the realization Sanji's right, he must have. But at least it was mutual. His eyes level with Sanji's. ]
[ A part of Sanji is willing to acknowledge the truth— he’s not sure he could handle seeing any of their crew transformed to statues, much less their boisterous, rambunctious Captain. While he’s always suspected the honeyed promise that winning the game will let them leave to be a lie, it’s only just that: a vague thought, a worry that niggles at the back of his mind.
Seeing one of his beloved friends as nothing more than grey stone, though? That’s real, that’s tangible, and he fears that seeing it will only transform suspicion into certainty, even if it’s nothing but conjecture.
Better to nurse the memory through conversation and merriment and hope that the Peacocks' whims will swing back in their favor one day soon. ]
I, uh, doubt there’ve ever been many people like him, you know? [ Really, even back when he just viewed Luffy a poor hapless sucker that got pulled into being their choreboy, there’d been something uncanny and unique about him. To hear Shanks say that Luffy reminded him of someone else is, well, a little curious. ] What was he like— your old captain, I mean.
[ He laughs softly a heartbeat later at the way Shanks’ cheeks flush prettily, grinning at him. ]
I believe that. He’s pretty damn unique, our captain. Never realized pirates could be damn carefree until he showed up one day.
There haven't been, just like there haven't been many men like my former captain.
[ Shanks' mouth opens and stops for a moment. There's a part of him that almost breaks his habit of over two decades, and he almost tells Sanji, but his tongue doesn't say the name of Gol. D Roger. Instead, he leaves the mystery to Sanji, for now. ]
Terrifyingly protective. Fiercely devoted. Determined. Stubborn. He laughed easily, but got angry just as easily. Carefree. He was a good man, no matter what anyone said.
[ There's a fond, nostalgic note to Shanks' voice, a wistful, sad smile on his lips. But, in a way, it feels good to talk about Roger, even vaguely. Just like it feels good to speak of Luffy. ]
no subject
That's one of the great crimes of this place, in his opinion, seperating people from their family and friends– and their dreams, too. Doubtlessly, he's somewhere with the countless statues that are spread across the hallways of the Peacock, just another decoration to everyone but those that know his face, and while Sanji could go and look for him, he doesn't want to. There is no joy in Luffy's presence if he's silent and still, as statues are, nothing of the warmth and brightness he exudes so easily.
So– yeah, in this case, he'd rather not try to find him. He– and Nami and Zoro– will soothe their hurts in other ways.
None of which is relevant now. These kinds of exchanges are good for the heart, after all. ]
Yeah, I, uh, I know what you mean. [ That fond smile is back, a gentle curve of his lips as he glances down, thinks back to the days they spent on the Konomi Islands, and laughs before looking back up. ] Once saw him destroy a tower with a single kick just 'cause someone hurt a friend and pissed him off. I was right there with him, beating the crap out of some of the pirates.
[ For a moment, he just stares at Shanks, the look on his face considering before he nods once. Yeah, yeah, he can believe that because nobody knows how deeply one man can inspire a child with just one or two simple acts of kindness. ] Yeah. You, uh, must've made a big impression on him during that time.
no subject
[ Shanks has gone looking for Luffy's statue, and found it. He sat with it, drank with it, talked to it, and left it a cup of juice. He could tell the others, if they asked, but they don't, so he doesn't say. ]
[ Talking about Luffy is one way of keeping his spirit with them, Shanks feels. ]
[ To hear what Luffy did, Shanks laughs, impressed. ]
One should never mess with my friends. [ He chuckles. ] But that level of it reminds me a lot of my former captain.
[ His cheeks feel warm at the realization Sanji's right, he must have. But at least it was mutual. His eyes level with Sanji's. ]
And he made the same impression on me.
no subject
Seeing one of his beloved friends as nothing more than grey stone, though? That’s real, that’s tangible, and he fears that seeing it will only transform suspicion into certainty, even if it’s nothing but conjecture.
Better to nurse the memory through conversation and merriment and hope that the Peacocks' whims will swing back in their favor one day soon. ]
I, uh, doubt there’ve ever been many people like him, you know? [ Really, even back when he just viewed Luffy a poor hapless sucker that got pulled into being their choreboy, there’d been something uncanny and unique about him. To hear Shanks say that Luffy reminded him of someone else is, well, a little curious. ] What was he like— your old captain, I mean.
[ He laughs softly a heartbeat later at the way Shanks’ cheeks flush prettily, grinning at him. ]
I believe that. He’s pretty damn unique, our captain. Never realized pirates could be damn carefree until he showed up one day.
no subject
[ Shanks' mouth opens and stops for a moment. There's a part of him that almost breaks his habit of over two decades, and he almost tells Sanji, but his tongue doesn't say the name of Gol. D Roger. Instead, he leaves the mystery to Sanji, for now. ]
Terrifyingly protective. Fiercely devoted. Determined. Stubborn. He laughed easily, but got angry just as easily. Carefree. He was a good man, no matter what anyone said.
[ There's a fond, nostalgic note to Shanks' voice, a wistful, sad smile on his lips. But, in a way, it feels good to talk about Roger, even vaguely. Just like it feels good to speak of Luffy. ]