Entry tags:
Week 5 | Wednesday
[There is a pink, floral shirt just hanging from one of the top bookshelves in the library.
Just.
Hanging out like the world's most disappointing flag.
Sanji hasn't even bothered to reach for it yet, instead standing there with his arms folded in quiet judgment]
... I didn't like that shirt that much.
[Ugh. Fine. He's reaching for it!]
Just.
Hanging out like the world's most disappointing flag.
Sanji hasn't even bothered to reach for it yet, instead standing there with his arms folded in quiet judgment]
... I didn't like that shirt that much.
[Ugh. Fine. He's reaching for it!]
no subject
Oh, is that yours?
no subject
[No shame here. Sanji will wear whatever the fuck he wants, he's just that kind of dude.]
Did I tell you and Natsuo about that one...?
[They got so derailed, Sanji can't even remember, and huffs out a laugh while just baaarely manages to grab the shirt's sleeve, yanking it down.
-- And goes stiff when realizing he and Ion are... surrounded in something]
What the hell...
no subject
I think you were going to, but we got distracted by...
[Being encased in a giant...bubble? Ion cuts himself off as he startles. He cautiously reaches out and taps on the inside of it, but it doesn't budge. Whatever it is is completely solid.]
Oh, dear.
no subject
Though... "converse" might be a stretch. One of the women is seated, but bleeding from her leg. Her hair is pink and her expression stoic, but Ion will note that she bears the same curly eyebrow of the chef he's fond of.
As for the other woman--]
Quit dreaming, fool! Me, marry that little punk? Never in a billion years!
[She's a woman of three eyes and a delighted cackle as she makes it clear she has very, very little intention of marrying "that man", some fool who she wrapped around her finger at the behest of her mother. She's quite devious, she explains -- only her family knows her true nature. But still, it was easy tricking the man.
All her family wants are the Vinsmoke's cloneable army. At the wedding tomorrow, the Vinsmokes will be slaughtered, and Sanji--
shot in the head]
Who would ever want to marry an idiot like him? Ugh, at least bring me a proper prince, for heaven's sake!
[Her laughter echoes off the sphere before the scene goes blank, the bubble popping soon after.]
no subject
What?
[Shot in the head? The scene is already changing, warping, but Ion doesn't pay attention to it, looking at Sanji in horrified confusion.]
Who was that? And does--does she really--
no subject
Well that happened.
Sanji's expression is painfully reserved, like he watched a boring movie instead of a traumatic one. Ion's confusion is only met with mild calm]
My fiance, Pudding-chan.
no subject
A political marriage?
no subject
I was born a prince -- but didn't excel like my siblings did. Too much time feeding rats and cooking.
[...]
So long story short, I was exiled when I was little.
[He gives the truth, only because he sees no point in hiding it. Wasn't much of a secret to begin with. Just that no one ever asked him for details.]
Anyway, I got older, joined a pirate crew... the bastard realized I'm still alive, so he decided to bargain me off to get in good with Pudding-chan's family.
... Well, as you heard, I was bait. They were gonna murder all of the Vinsmokes from the start.
no subject
[It's not that he's not used to such things. He's heard of all sorts of political dramas, scandals, horrors all throughout history. But it hurts...when people have such a capacity for goodness and choose instead to succumb to greed and violence.]
It's just awful.
no subject
I've got no love lost for the Vinsmokes. I made it clear I'm no son of that family.
Heh, so it's weird... I don't like the idea of them going out that way.
[There's just
nothing he can do]
no subject
[But Ion doesn't know how that feels, because he doesn't have a family.
The memory shifts, as if acting on instincts to Ion's feelings, until they're standing before a ledge. All around you is a void. In front of you, a boy is crouching, injured, shielding his face because his mask has fallen in the scuffle.
But it's too late, everyone has seen him, and now you know what you've suspected: you aren't the only one. The boy looks up, his expression jarring in its blatant hatred, but there's no mistaking that face. Your face.
Behind you, everyone gasps, so you take a deep breath. It's time for the truth. You step forward.
Just as I thought...you are also a replica of the Fon Master.
The others stare at you, faces torn in shock, so you persist. Your words feel like stones as they echo back in your ears.
I'm Fon Master Ion's seventh replica: the final one. You glance guiltily over your shoulder. I'm sorry. It's only been about two years since I was born.
The replica on the ground speaks then, scoffing bitterly. You had the closest abilities to the original unlike us trash.
Your stomach churns in violent discomfort.
Don't call yourself that.
He doesn't even meet your eyes, his teeth gritted in pain.
That's what I am. My powers were so weak I was cast alive into the mouth of the Mt. Zaleho volcano. A replica that can't serve as a replacement is nothing more than garbage.
You try again. Desperation claws away at your ribcage.
Don't talk like that. You can come with us--you and I are the same!
You step toward him as he staggers back to his feet and extend him a hand. You hope...you hope...
And he slaps your hand away, angry, hateful. You're used to the hatred of the Grand Maestro, but this is something different. This is an intimate, deep-seeded resentment that is much more personal than a man hating you for what you are. This is someone hating you for everything that you took away from them. Everything you never wanted, and that you can't give back. The sting in your hand travels all the way up your arm.
No, we're not. I'm only alive to be used. Only the useful ones are ever kept alive...out of pity.
You don't know what to say, but you don't have time to react as, without a word, he steps backward, off the edge of the landing you stand on, into a chasm of certain death.
Gone.]
HOW DID I MISS THIS
hoooooo boy.
After the brutal display of his own memory, Sanji isn't ready for Ion's. And it's a strange thing to feel both pity and fury for a boy he doesn't know, who is so broken down by the world that he would choose oblivion over kindness.
It's not your fault, he wants to tell Ion. Instead, the words sit like stones in his mouth, and he stares on blankly until the scene comes to an end.]