concasse | 001↠ Action/Voice

[There is something extraordinarily jarring about finding yourself in a chilled, unfamiliar forest, when two seconds ago you were under the sea, fighting off a legion of crazed fishmen. The blonde man clad in the usual New Feather's garb is none too pleased with this switch once he gathers his bearings, and he sets off in a direction that might be right, straining to hear any sounds of battle, only half-mindful of the journal he hasn't ditched yet. The hows and whys can wait until he's back with his crew.

He'll come across the town, eventually, once a certain child skipping school sets him straight. And it will feel like the longest half hour of Sanji's life, hearing what she says to him -- and once she's safely back home and past her tears, he's going to... head straight to the grocery.

Cigarettes. Need them. Now. He flies through a pack of the damn things before grabbing another, shoving it into a flimsy pocket like it's his last sane lifeline. It might as well be. Navigating back home (...home), along an all-too familiar path, makes his head and chest hurt from the seeping memories.

Heh, what a load of shitty bull. He doesn't want to be here. Except he sorta does. Maybe. And damn, it'd be nice if he could make up his mind.

There will be no such luck today. He goes home, combing the house for available crew members; any kind of anchor and stability. And after that, there's the clothing shop for his suits. Then Seventh Heaven. Then tracking down every person his memory supplies a name for - Xion. Miyabi. Sayo. Katara. Vash. Wolfwood. Isamu. Shit how many are there? - until his head feels too full and he goes to collapse at the bar around evening. Only then does the journal open.]

... Oi. [Fuck, where does one begin? Let's start with a name] It's Sanji. [Pause, and then with tired ire] Guess you shitheads aren't rid of me yet.

[ooc: If you think Sanji would look for your character... then he would probably look for your character. XD So yeah. << RUN INTO HIM ANYWHERE, previous CR or otherwise! He's all over town, and I care not for these things called continuity and time (save for who finds him in the forest - that honor goes to Elicia.)]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Lemonade's bad for your lungs, son. B| Look at your life; look at your choices.

And he arches a brow, before replying] I wouldn't be sitting at a bar unless I had. [He's got it covered.] Don't worry. She knows I'm back.

[That... makes Luke let out a long sigh of relief, and he shuts his eyes with a smile.]

Oh... good. [Maybe now she can smile more, and not be so sad...]

I think everyone here missed you, but... [She took it especially hard.]

... I know she has. [It's muttered low in his voice, quietly sad, guilty and fond at the same time.

But he glances at Luke, and his voice regains the usual sharp nonchalance]

Good thing she had friends here to help her out. [And you too, even if he doesn't spell it out]

... Yeah. [Yeah. He can pick that up. And he can't help smiling a little as he runs his thumb up the glass and looks down at the drink. Sanji's always... intimidated him a bit thanks to his role in Xion's life, so hearing that...]

Oh! Um... [He sets the drink down to lean over and look back a few pages.] Have you heard about the... missions thing going on?

Missions? [That would be a negatory, Luke. You definitely have Sanji's attention]

[He makes an affirmative noise and looks further back. He's never actually... linked anything before, so he's not sure if he's doing this right...

But after a moment, he manages to get this up for Sanji to see.]

This came up after you left.

[The silence is thoughtful while Sanji reads through everything carefully, then he glances over it once more, to make sure he didn't miss information]

... Tch. [While he doesn't look upset in any way, his lips are close to pursing, and he rolls the cigarette between his fingers.]

So it's a mutual benefit system. [It smells more like they're pacifying their captives -- and with good reason, he supposes. Luceti boasts a sturdy bunch of heroes, more useful willing than unwilling.]

Yeah... I still don't know how I'm supposed to feel about it. [He drags one leg up to lean his elbow on his knee and rest his cheek against his hand, the other leg swaying just slightly in thought.] We're getting stuff out of it, but we're still helping them out with things they should be doing. At least they're not forcing us to go. [Unlike the draft.]

Forcing us to go would just mean we'd keep fighting them at every turn. [He hates admitting it, but the bastards know what they're doing, playing this move]

We're better willing pawns to them.

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