concasse | 006↠ ACTION

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006↠ ACTION

[It's sunny. And hot. And perhaps not the best weather to take a nap in while you're unabashedly unconscious.

... Which is too bad, seeing as Sanji's passed out under a tree located at the village's edge - clothes dirty and ruffled, no doubt collecting more dirt as he rolls in his uncomfortable slumber, the crook of his arm covering his eyes.

Go on. Wake him up. Be a good Samaritan.

And hell, even if you don't, Sanji will eventually stumble upon you -- or into you, if that's your thing. Later in the day he'll be all over the village insisting he's fine, no he's not drunk so stop trying to escort him back to bed. B| He can walk it off.]

[ooc: MALLYNAP EFFECT. Touch him and your character will share a memory with Sanji. It can be a memory of his or a memory of your character's; just specify in the subject line what you prefer. |D Any memory is free game, and the scope of it is at our discretion, but keep in mind both characters will view it until the memory ends or they escape the "boundary". (Just imagine the memory as a bubble and if a character walks far enough for whatever reason, they pop it.) Also note they're still in Luceti - no teleporting anywhere. Just assume the characters are mostly slack-jawed and staring at a tree for the duration.

I also endorse all time-breaking. Tis but a flimsy wall in our way.]

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Sanji!

[Naturally, Richard's first instinct is to attempt to catch his friend as he falls, reaching his arms out to grab him before he can hit the ground. He's not sure he'll be able to support all of Sanji's weight but he's at least going to try, dammit.]

[--Damn it all.

By the time Sanji settles back on his feet with Richard's help, expression grave and tightening, the world around them has already shifted. The chef has his eyes closed in advance.

If it's one of Richard's memories on display... then he's sorry.]

[At first glance, the memory doesn't seem to be a bad one, or even anything special. Yet if Sanji happens to glance over at Richard, it's hard to miss the fact that the other man's face has gone white, because as ordinary as it is, Richard recognizes the events of that night all too well.

In the memory, Richard - he's just a young boy, but it's clear it's still him - is just finishing up his dinner before heading off to his bedroom to prepare for bed. It's nothing unusual at all, or so it seems. It isn't until the Richard of the memory begins to unbutton the top button of his outfit that it becomes clear that something is very, very wrong: he pales, then gags, retching helplessly, but what he brings up is more bright red blood than anything else, painting the rug before him a gruesome shade of crimson.

It's a horrifying sight, there's no doubt of that. Yet despite the horror of it, there's no bewilderment on the young Richard's face, no desperate search for understanding. There's fear, yes, but beneath it is a sickening sense of resignation. He knows exactly what's going on.

Richard is dying. He's twelve years old and he's dying, poisoned at last just as his father had been before him.]

[Few memories have so quickly driven Sanji to horrified silence, and this won't be the first - nor the last. But as he watches the expression of the choking boy play through fear and sick acceptance, Sanji's horror bows out to another more powerful explosion of emotion.

It's rage. And disgust. The temperature around them spikes dangerously high while Sanji's face contorts, and whoever poisoned the boy is lucky this is only a memory, not reality - or the rug wouldn't be the only thing painted in crimson.]

[Beside him, the real Richard just stands silently, not wanting to watch this yet unable to tear his eyes away from the sight. He can guess at part of what Sanji must be thinking right now - it's impossible not to feel that heat - and in an almost detached fashion he can't help but wonder if Sanji pities him for this now. He must, mustn't he?

Within the memory, the boy Richard forces himself to his feet and staggers out of the room with dogged determination despite his condition, leaning heavily on the wall as he makes his way down the hall, still coughing up that bright red blood and trying in vain to wipe the unending flow of tears from his eyes.

"Asbel... Asbel and the others... are waiting... I have to go..."

Even dying as he is, the only thought on the boy's mind is seeing his first and only friend one last time.]

[What Sanji feels can't be described easily - for Richard to truly understand the torment that comes from watching a helpless boy knocking on death's door, Sanji would have to exchange one of his darkest memories in return.

That's not an option right now, though. They're preoccupied with the current memory and won't be escaping until it ends. At least the heat simmers down after the initial explosion. He's still angry, but in control now. Unfortunately that doesn't make watching any easier. His arm and fingers twitch, held tight against his side so he won't make any unnecessary motions - like reach out for a child who can't see him anyway - and eventually, Sanji shoves both hands into his pockets and stares mercilessly at the floor]

[It's almost strange how foreign, how completely detached Richard feels from this scene right now. Seeing one of the most awful moments of his life played in front of his eyes should affect him more... shouldn't it? But somehow all he can muster is a sort of numb discomfort in the pit of his stomach, enough to make him want to avert his eyes, though a larger reason is because he doesn't want to look at Sanji's face.

Richard's younger self continues to struggle onward, through the castle halls and down into the catacombs; he makes it as far as a large cavern before he collapses and the memory fades out for a moment. When it blurs back into focus, it's clear that Richard doesn't have much time left.

"Looks like... my time's up..."

His coughing is growing worse, his breathing more labored.

"I don't... I don't want to die..."

But in that dark, lonely cavern, that looks like an inevitability... until a strange, swirling black mass rises before him, the words "Live on!" echoing from its shapeless form. It draws closer and closer to the young boy's frightened body...

... and then the memory cuts off.]

[Somewhere down the line, Sanji's rigid glare climbs the last few inches against his will to stare at the spot where Richard's child self lay - now a smooth patch of dirt under the glaring sun - and he keeps it there when the memory vanishes. He's as eager to look at Richard as the king is to look at him. He didn't have any right to see this, and any apology would probably sound laughably shallow and pitying.

... But numbly standing while the silence stifles around them is a worse option. After a swallow, Sanji squares his shoulders back and lift his head. It's a step up, even if he has yet to fully look at the other]

You want me to leave you alone?

That is the kind of man my uncle was... a coward who would poison his own family, all for the sake of power.

[It's not an answer to the question and he knows that, yet at the same time he feels he owes Sanji at least some sort of explanation for the horrors he just witnessed. Even though he may have told Sanji what his uncle did, seeing it firsthand must have been jarring, Richard is sure. It's not something he should've had to see-- not something ANYONE should've had to see. But it's something that happened, and there's no point in trying to pretend it didn't. If Sanji is going to pity him for this, then so be it.]

Edited 2012-06-14 17:01 (UTC)

[It's hard to know what Sanji is thinking in regards to that. Besides a small, displeasured "tch" under his breath, his expression is, for the most part, smooth and under control again. He already made it clear that Richard's uncle had his death coming; there's no point in repeating those sentiments.]

... Is that why, then? [Rather abruptly, Sanji's eyes scan Richard's uncomfortably thin figure.] You don't eat much?

[There's a decidedly bitter edge to that sad little smile Richard gives in response. That's also why he won't eat anything that isn't prepared by someone he trusts, as Gilbert found out when he tried to coax Richard into eating some of Elliot's birthday cake.]

The less I ate, the smaller the chance of any poison I received being fatal.

[For Richard, food was always something to be viewed with suspicion, consumed only because it was necessary for life; even now, with no threat of poison, his appetite still remains very slight and mercurial as a result of years of (rightful) paranoia. It doesn't take much stress-wise to make him lose it entirely.]

[That's the reason you're half-starving yourself?

Anyone else would smile sympathetically, understanding, give him a hug or a pat on the shoulder. Sanji? He scowls as though he's just been insulted, turns his head away, and then swallows back the flood that threatens to push past his lips.

Don't do it, chef. At least be fair about this.]

... When's the last time you really ate? [The words are picked with slow deliberation, and there's an unspoken weight to the question; he's asking Richard to give him the truth, knowing it might upset him]

[The silence that follows is a long one, not because Richard is deliberately being stubborn, but rather because he quite literally can't remember the last time he ate a full, proper meal. Oh, he eats, but that's mostly due to the fact that he has housemates who would become suspicious if he didn't-- indeed, Isamu has already started to pick up on this fact. But his idea of "eating" has for weeks been "picking at his food just enough to make it look like he's eaten more than he already has."

He can't answer this question honestly and he knows it.]

[The longer the silence looms, the more Sanji concentrates on his breathing - in, out. Deep and slow. Calm down already.

Calm down, damn it.]

I can't be the only person who knows. [It's hardly a question; and he's assuming still that Richard has slipped up enough times that his housemates have noticed the signs. The man is skinny - painfully so, and with the painful implications the silence leaves, Sanji can hardly look at him without his insides numbing up - but he has eaten something.]

Edited 2012-06-16 01:11 (UTC)

Isamu seems to have taken it upon himself to feed me whenever he thinks I need it.

[And considering that Asbel has lectured him about his eating habits before, it's pretty clear that his best friend is aware of the situation as well, though he tends not to push it too hard. It's mostly just Isamu at this point, in part because Richard is well aware of just how thin he is and tries to disguise it as best he can beneath loose-fitting shirts, much like the one he's wearing now... though it doesn't seem to have worked.]

[Now there's a name Sanji's damn glad to hear. Some of the knots gathered in his shoulders loosen to where his figure appears less etched in its own frustration, but there's still that underlying sense of displeasure on the chef's end; an itch he hasn't scratched yet.]

... You know I wouldn't poison you, right? [He knows the answer to that question - and at least when he asks it, his eyes are somber rather than judging.]

[It may be a rhetorical question, but Richard looks genuinely hurt that it was even asked. Does Sanji really think that Richard trusts him that little? He can't tell whether he does or not, suddenly and painfully reminded of how bad he is at reading other people sometimes.]

No, I would never think that you were capable of something like that, and I'm sorry.

[For giving off that impression, if that's what led to that question.]

[No Richard, Sanji is just very capable of selfishness when there's something he wants. He knew what answer he'd get - but he still needed to hear it anyway, for his own sake.

This is personal now.]

You don't need to apologize. [The contours of his face finally loosen, even when he sighs] Though I guess it's time to play fair.

Play fair?

[He doesn't quite understand what Sanji is getting at here. He's already figured out that the memory display had something to do with Sanji, though whether it's some sort of latent ability or a little 'gift' courtesy of the Malnosso he isn't sure. Perhaps he's referring to that?]

Aa.

[He shifts his footing, enough so that he's standing next to the king, facing off at a distance. What he says next, he saying without thinking, in a clear, firm voice. His decision's been made; all that's left to do is go through with it.]

... I nearly starved to death when I was ten. [No pause, though he scrounges around for a cigarette in his breast pocket] Three shitty months on a rock in the middle of the ocean, waiting for a ship to save me, with only a small bag of food that lasted me a month in.

I was nothing but skin and bones when they finally rescued me. [A lot worse than you.]

Sanji...

[And suddenly Richard feels terrible about thinking that his own problems were so bad. He may have had his uncle to contend with, but at least he had a roof over his head and steady meals, even if he didn't eat them. As long as he stayed vigilant, he could pretend that things were normal, at least for a little while; Sanji didn't have that luxury. His was, quite literally, a fight for survival, and that's something Richard knows he can't really relate to at all.]

... I know that saying "I'm sorry" can't possibly make up for the things you've been through, and it can't ever erase those memories either. But I mean it when I say that I appreciate you telling me about that. Thank you for trusting me enough to share that.

[A sigh, though it's not an unkind one. For Sanji, this isn't exactly a matter of trust - more a matter of bringing his point across. And maybe a way of being fair. If he can't hold himself at a distance because of what he unrightly saw, at least Richard deserves to know the reason why]

A "sorry" wouldn't erase your memories, either. But now that I know what happened... You understand why I won't pretend I don't know what you're doing to yourself, either.

[The smile that makes its way onto Richard's face now is a faint one, though laced with understanding at Sanji's words. That much he comprehends quite well-- it's why he can see when other people are pretending to be better off than they are. Years of experience have taught him the art of doing so himself, making him a master at recognizing it in others.]

I should have known I wouldn't be able to fool you for long.

[It's probably wrong to smirk. There's absolutely nothing funny about Richard's confession - that he purposely played the part of a healthy man to keep everyone from worrying about him. Instead, Sanji takes it as an ironic sign of just how far things have progressed for both of them.]

You should've, yeah.

And give me the truth here - how much food intake are you averaging a day?

[Richard lowers his head to look at the ground, turning slightly away in a gesture that Sanji may recognize as being a sign that he's uncomfortable with the situation.]

That much I'm afraid I'm not sure, though I do try to eat a little at each meal.

[Action] I REREAD PARTS OF THE NOVEL JUST FOR YOU

[Action] fufufu EXCELLENT

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[Action] oh wow Sanji is piiiiiiiiissed

[Action] This is one of the most terrible scenes in the novel I swear

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