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

No wonder it tastes so sweet.

[Sipping at what's left of his now.]

... but I might need another to be more certain of the flavors.

Just as long as you know I'm not dragging your ass home. [This declaration doesn't stop Sanji from ordering another round.

Because frankly? He's teetering on the edge of a dark, dark mood, and colorful drinks sound like a damn good remedy to him.]

Not even if I ask nicely?

[Richard's been teetering on that edge for quite some time now-- not that he would admit it to anyone. There's a reason he's become a regular at the bar.]

Not a chance. [Not while he's sober.

He's got another glass in hand and tips it towards Richard, before starting to down it. Sweet, but ah, he enjoys the subtle burn all the same.]

Then the same goes in reverse.

[... even though he might very well need to be dragged home after a few more of these given that he's built like a twig.]

Oi, I know my limit.

[He does! He just happens to ignore said limit, hoping that one day the shounen gods will bestow him with Nami-san's tolerance]

As do I.

[... he just tends to do the same thing and end up embarrassing himself in front of his friends, that's all. At least they're nice enough to pretend it never happened.]

Then there won't be any problems, eh? [He says that with a grin, finishing his second glass. No buzz yet on his end, but he's warm and slouching comfortably into his chair]

None that a short call over the journals shouldn't be able to solve.

[Richard may not have size going for him, but at least he's built up a decent tolerance by now, though the two drinks are already starting to relax him a bit.]

If you can speak clearly enough for them to get the picture. [Pause]

... Then again, they'd probably still be able to tell how you've spent your evening.

I think not being able to speak clearly would be an even better indication of the circumstances.

You almost sound like you've had enough practice to know, Richard.

Let's just say that I had a rather interesting first exposure to tequila courtesy of Miss Sheryl when she was here.

[snort]

Probably better than my first.

Oh?

[You can't say that and not tell him, Sanji.]

Nothing like taking on a whole bottle of shitty rum when you're ten. [And then being held upside down over the ship's railing because the owner doesn't want you throwing up on board]

I'm not sure whether I feel more sorry for you or for that bottle of rum.

That damn bottle didn't get held overboard by his ankle.

[If you're gonna throw some pity, throw it his way, please]

[Sorry, Sanji, but Richard is laughing now because that mental image is just too much.]

Shut the hell up, shithead!!

[HE SAID SYMPATHY, NOT RIDICULE]

[... which just makes Richard laugh harder. HE'S A LITTLE TIPSY, OKAY.]

[Affronted glare. He will pull on your kingly hair like the adult he is until you cut that shit out.]

Edited 2011-12-09 13:53 (UTC)

[Okay, now he's not laughing; instead, that's a rather startled combination of a yelp and a squawk escaping him right now.]

[And Sanji in response is looking the very picture of smug]

Look at that. [Leaning casually back in his seat, and sipping the last of his beverage] You do know how to stop.

I know how to do a great deal of things. Whether or not I actually do them is another story.

[... yeah, he's too buzzed to even really be annoyed at this point.]