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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.]
... 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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Shddup Snnji-kun. 'm trynna sleep.
[...actually it's possible she never woke up. Give her a minute. >_>]
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... Or option C, which is brace himself for another memory. Apparently, the rules of the game count hair. Goddamnit all.
In which case, please stay asleep. D8]
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And last she checked, Sanji was in the hands of the Malnosso. She's not quite sure why she's on top of him just yet, but that fact is enough for her to jerk her face up again after a moment, blinking sleep away with a half hopeful smile. Everything's a little hazy, but there's no mistaking that blond hair and cigarette smell up close.]
You're back...?
[Maybe he'll be lucky and she won't look at anything else.]
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Then he sees himself at twelve years old, a plate in hand, on his way to serve a customer. He guesses this must've been one of those times they were low on waiters. Still pretty harmless as far as the past goes. Feeling secure, he adjusts his attention to alert Nami of the situation... or he tries, before the air catches in his throat and he stiffens in realization. No.
This is not a safe memory.
The scene skips. One moment the boy is standing at the table, and the next, crouched over on the floor where an overturned plate of food lies discarded. A man is jeering at him. Give it another second and then Sanji screams back - and his voice quickly overpowers the adult in terms of disgust and hatred. One more second, and a fight has broken out, feet and arms flying and striking anything they come into contact with, teeth latching down and tearing at skin. The wiser customers have moved back; the unwise linger close and whisper and point until a man Nami might recognize thunders through the crowd and breaks up the brawl with a well-timed kick to Sanji's torso.
More skipping. Now they're in the main kitchen. An injured Sanji is slouched against the wall, arms wrapped around his legs and face buried in his knees. He doesn't move, not even when footsteps approach and a gruff, oddly subdued voice tells him to get cleaned up. Don't come back downstairs and start shit with the customers anymore. You can't keep doing this.
... Go to bed, Sanji.]
...keywords
She's not expecting to see Sanji as a child. Fresh out of sleep she doesn't quite register what's going on. Her gaze flicks back to her Sanji again, a puzzled look on her face. Maybe she's dreaming. Which would mean he's not back yet, but...
...this doesn't feel right.
And then the screaming starts and her full attention is on the memory before her, mouth agape as she watches the fight, frozen on the bed. And she does recognise Zeff, but she's not privy to his relationship with Sanji the way Luffy is... so when he kicks Sanji, she's kind of surging off the bed.]
Hey!
[...of course, the memory carries right on despite that, and she's left lost in confusion and sympathy for that lost little figure. She doesn't understand. Not the scene -- that's clear enough. But why she's seeing it.]
Sanji-kun...?
[Hard to tell if she's addressing that to the child in the kitchen or the man in the bed, really.]
LOLOL accurate.
Shitty bastard didn't kick me that hard.
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...well, she guesses she's not sleeping after all.
Which leads her to notice she's actually in Sanji's room, come to think of it. It's a good thing she already leapt up off the bed, becuase that'd be a few shades of awkward. Nami frowns.]
How bad is it? What they've done? You're okay otherwise?
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[The only thing that he's aware of.]
Anyone who touches me... we end up sharing one of our memories.
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...welcome home?
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I'm only sorry I had to wake Nami-san from her beauty sleep~!!
--Though she's perfectly welcome to use my bed if she deems it worthy~!
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Is that a trick question, Nami?]
1/2
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Better hope his arm doesn't brush against your skin or anything]
1/3
Hey, watch it--!!
[...and too late.]
2/3
Sorry, maybe I can--
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This isn't Sanji's memory.
...you might still have a pillow in your face. Sorry about that.]
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It's why he angles his head for a better view, wiggling enough that he can peek out from under it. Then Nami isn't the only one who stares. Panicked, Sanji sits up as much as he can and tears through the archives of his memories - there's one in particular of his own involving caves that he would very much prefer Nami not see, but on closer inspection, it appears he's lucked out. This isn't his memory.
... No, it's Nami's. Evidenced enough by the immobile figure woman inside the cell.]
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Because
this pose...]
--
[...happened so often. She's been left alone for long enough that she risks the healing, a soft glow covering her hands, but she's careful enough never to heal the burns all the way because she found out the hard way that a healthy Nami is never healthy for long and so it's all about finding the right balance between hurting and making sure she can run out of here when the door opens, because she's been here long enough (how long has it been?) that she's expecting to see the crew any day now, kicking down doors and destroying the son of a bitch on the other side and taking her home. Nami's making a list of things to do when they arrive under her breath, which starts with demand to be carried and possibly cry, but shortly after that there's food, because she hasn't
eaten at all. Not since she got here. The last thing was Sanji's cocoa, so that definitely makes the list, and she will make them wait on her hand and foot goddammit--
--this faint whispered litany is spirited enough that the signs of deprivation (food, sleep) are countered by her sound knowledge that it's only a matter of time, because if there's one thing Nami has here, it's total and complete faith in her crew to come for her. It's only broken off when her breath finally catches and she coughs, and it's a horribly unhealthy sound but Nami's perfectly willing to sound unhealthy, maybe he'll leave her alone longer--
--and that's when Luffy's voice is clearly heard, angry and full of threats and somewhere distant outside her cell.
"I heard her! Namiiii!"
And her head snaps back with the most wildly relieved of grins.]
---
[And Nami knows exactly which memory this is, and she makes a faint sound. Before she finds her voice, speaking faintly.]
This didn't happen. It didn't-- Sanji-kun, don't watch--
[Though she can't tear her own eyes away.]
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Never mind he should be heeding Nami's warning - it's her memory, she has the right to decide what he's allow to see - but it's because he also knows where this memory originates that he sits still and taunt, the faint frown constricting into something darker when he catches the cries of their captain echoing through the chamber; a sound which should be a blessed symbol of hope, except it's not, because--
Nami's right. This didn't happen. Sanji was the one who led the charge down here while Luffy had opted to stay topside. The blatant contradiction in her memories has his eyes glued to the scene, waiting for the punchline he senses is on the horizon]
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It's Luffy, Robin and Usopp that come through the door. Sanji in the doorway. There are others outside, silhouetted in the sudden light outside. (Shadows. That's all they are.) And Luffy's the only one that speaks, and it's a fair impression, face split in a wide Luffy-grin, and he helps Nami gently to her feet, talking about getting her home, really, they can't let her go anywhere, what was she thinking telling Aku those lies?
And she doesn't have time to frame a response before Aku's distinctive laughter is heard outside, and the light source flickers and nearly dies. And then there's fighting, dark and chaotic, and Luffy shoves her to the back of the cell and tells her to stay put.
And Aku is one hell of a performer. He makes the fight pitched and realistic, because he's seen three of those four Straw Hats in action. Only Usopp feels off, and in the chaos his lack of a weapon is easily missed by the audience this show is intended for.
But eventually the tide turns, and they start dying.
First Usopp falls. Then Robin. Sanji is crushed against a wall by darkness. Only Luffy is left, finally, interposing his body between Aku and Nami, fists up to keep fighting.
Eventually, Aku cuts him in half.
There's a torn and bloody straw hat wheeling off his head as the captain falls, and it lands by Nami's feet. She was screaming before. Now she stares at it, and she can't stop staring blankly, making no sound at all.
Aku sweeps from the room and takes all her will to fight with him. And the door clangs shut.
Nami's not watching anymore. At the first sign of fighting, she turned away, eyes shut. And soon after that, her hands are over her ears.]
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That son of a bitch.
The sight of his "own" death is what has Sanji finally flinching his head away in a new direction; thus he is spared having to watch his captain die in front of him. What he sees instead is Nami, hands curled over her ears and eyes scrunched tight, and his boiling blood stills instantly in the face of what this memory is probably doing to her. Gods, and he did this to her, too.]
Nami-san, I-- [The words catch in his throat, though soon enough it doesn't matter. He scoots what little distance there is between them and hugs her from behind, for his own guilty peace of mind and to shield her away from any part of the memory that he can.]
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Then she eases her hands away from her face, drawing in a sharp breath, and her fingers reach in the gloom to touch lightly on Sanji's wrist.]
I know it wasn't real. [It seems important to say. She hasn't believed this all this time. Her voice is shaking.] Brook told me when I woke up you were all okay.
[This was something none of them should ever have had to know.]
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Sanji nearly pulls back, quick to note his mounting frustration and the lack of a convenient target to take it out on, but he doesn't, because the moment he does, he won't let himself touch her again. Call it a selfish desire if you will. The hug is as much for him as it is for her. He stays where he is, glaring every ounce of his hatred at one of the innocent walls of his room. If it sets on fire, good; something might as well.
But of course he doesn't know what to say. Weak apologies won't cut it - and he'd half-expect her to cut him off, anyway. So instead he opts for silence, needing that moment to untangle some of his inner torment.]
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