[ Mark has been very busy trying to stew in all of his (well-earned, but still) angst, so after being left on delay for so long, the sudden shout that blasts his ear has him wincing and holding the phone away for a second.
Okay. Okay, no, he's back in reality now. A reality where other people might have their own problems; where they might not just be standing in their bedroom with the most serious thing to have ever happened to anyone ever hanging over them, needing someone to talk to.
... But he's already called Sanji is the thing here, so. Okay. Okay, ]
Sanji— Hi, sorry. [ A beat, having the grace to go from sounding upset to mildly embarrassed as he continues. ] Shit, is this a bad time?
[It's been a bad year (save for his routine correspondence with Asa; those make the rest of his days bearable).
Frazzled as he is, Sanji's senses are wholly alert that he clocks the upset in Mark's tone. There's not going to be a good time for yet another year from now, so he keeps the phone up to his ear while parrying an incoming kick with one of his own.]
What is it?!
[Mark can probably hear the high-pitched yet masculine battle cries in the background as more pursuers converge around Sanji, who's on the verge of screaming, because he's in the middle of an important conversation.]
[ Yeah, not only can he hear the frantic quality to Sanji's voice, but he's pretty sure he can hear the reason for it, too. And that his him shoving all of his problems off to the side, because the threat of a friend being in immediate danger far outweighs his own angst once his own danger has passed.
So, instead, urgency flooding his own tone: ] Do you need help? Should I come over??
[ Nevermind that he'd probably end up in Sanji's world for a while if he did; this seems a lot more pressing? And after his wish, things are... better, here. Maybe not necessarily great, considering recent events, but good enough that he can afford to go flying off elsewhere on a whim if it means helping someone else. Which he is about two seconds away from doing, regardless of what Sanji actually says, unless he hears pure calm coming from his end of the line. ]
[The word punches out of him, punctuated with a kick to knock aside his next opponent. No, he does not need help. Unintelligible words trickle over to Mark's side, followed by Sanji's booming shout at the crowd:] Back off—this call isn't for you!
[His exasperation is met with a chorus of teasing tones. The okama proceed to pelt him with needless questions about his conversation partner, all while still launching themselves at him. One of them gives a bizarre bodily wiggle and asks in a loud voice, "Is it Josuke?" to which Sanji sputters.]
Shut up!
[A series of odd scraping and thudding sounds fill Mark's audio feed as Sanji drops onto his hands and delivers spinning kicks to create a wide berth around him. Then he flip onto his feet and leaps into the sky, running like he's on fire toward the sun. Wind whips around the phone, which he raises to his ear again.]
[ The thing about listening on the other end of a phone line is that it can leave one feeling awfully helpless. And that's what Mark is stuck doing, listening — first as Sanji tells him he doesn't need his help, but then it keeps going, other voices trickling through, to the point that Sanji seems kind of upset.
(And was that Josuke's name he heard?? Huh??)
He listens to the teasing, the loud voices, Sanji's exasperation, the sounds of what might be fighting?? And that's it, there's only so much of this he can impotently take. He's already pulling his costume on, because it feels right to have it for this, mind made up. ]
Hold on — I'm coming over.
[ Because it really, really sounds like he needs help. Mark just wanted someone to talk to, but maybe getting to punch some guys to help a friend is better than talking, actually.
And before Sanji can so much as object the call is dropped, Mark's phone snapping shut — and there he is, right in the sky with Sanji, full superhero regalia on and everything—
Wait, Sanji isn't falling. Sanji isn't falling! He can't help but grin at him, not entirely sure where the threat is coming from, but happy to just bask in this moment first. ]
Sanji! I, uh... [ okay maybe this is a little awkward now, actually. ] I did want to talk, but it sounded like you needed help...
[ looking around for the threat like. Did he need help?? ]
Sanji hops in place, casually alternating one foot with the other to stay airborne, as he whips his head in the direction of the costumed stranger. The tension in his shoulders and legs drains away, and the anxiety of having to deal with the mess below in the sky dissipates once he recognizes Mark's voice.]
Didn't I tell you that I don't? [All the same, Sanji's tone is resigned now that Mark is here.] I was in the middle of training.
[This seems important to point out when he looks worse for wear compared to his tidy appearance back at the house. His clothes are crumpled with a few tears here and there; sand clings to the suit fabric in patches while his face sports old scratches on his cheeks, a split lip, and a trail of dried blood stemming from one temple. He can't have Mark getting the wrong idea and fighting battles designed for his own gain.
Said threats—men of impressive physique and size, all dressed in drag—clamor below them from the shore of a vibrant island. Actually, it sounds like they're squealing, their quest to corner Sanji momentarily forgotten in the buzzing excitement of a new male presence. Sanji ignores them in favor of putting away his damned phone, procuring a pack of cigarettes (branded Death) from his pocket, and lighting a stick now that he no longer has to hide.]
But it's about time for a break, so I'll hear you out.
Mark at least has the decency to pull his mask off as he takes in Sanji's appearance; the tears on his clothes, the blood on his face. Is that from training or an actual fight... He looks down at the shore below them, the... colourful cast of characters there. Is this the world Sanji lives in... what kind of training is this...
He's a little lost in his head, just kind of. Staring. For the moment. But as long as they're in the air it doesn't seem like a threat, which brings up a whole other thing, since the last time Sanji was in the air he was perched on Mark's shoulders, and—
Looking back up at Sanji again when he speaks. Catches the label on the cigarette pack which, uh. And for the moment, his own problems seem far away (quite possibly because they literally are, now that he's in another world entirely). ]
I didn't know you were training— [ IS that what this is. peering down at the men below them again— ] Wait, I didn't know you could fly?
[ Gesturing at Sanji's feet, the little hopping motions while Mark is just hovering there, not moving otherwise. When he looks back up at Sanji he's beaming though, clearly not at all bothered by this development. ]
[There's always something about that first puff. Sanji takes a drag on the cigarette, holds it for a blissful moment, and exhales a cloud of smoke deeply in the next. His gaze trained toward the clouds is distant as he recalls the harrowing memory.]
When I was cornered, the only way left was up . . . so I ran toward the sky, and this is the result.
[He can walk on air. The speed and duration of his artificial flight are restricted by his bodily limits, but he's been improving those in . . . training. Yeah.
Sanji snaps back to attention, eyeing Mark, who's bared his face. Well, he supposes there's no harm in showing it here of all places—and so high up, too. But he'd rather lose the crowd for the conversation they're bound to have, so he begins trekking inland, still airbone, to move out of sight.]
[ He is never going to understand smoking for so many reasons, but hey, as long as Sanji is happy. (Is it even conducive to training— whatever though, they're taking a break, right? Or rather, Sanji is. Sanji was the one doing something. Mark just crashed the party unnecessarily— anyway.)
As Sanji starts moving inland Mark follows along, his own body going horizontal to move alongside him. Two completely different methods of flying — he'd have never guessed it, but also, there really is something nice about being able to hang out with a friend like this. It never gets old. ]
That... really sounds like you, actually. [ Sanji just... running towards the sky. ] Now you've got a way to always be free.
[ He's really clung to that, even as his world views have had to expand, bit by bit. Sanji, so openly a pirate, but so he can stay free. Especially after he saw the cell— He isn't going to be so crass as to bring it up, just that the need for freedom is his anchor for knowing that Sanji is a good guy. Deserves to have good things, like his own determination and spirit granting him the ability to be up here. It keeps Mark's voice warm, keeps him from spiralling out in his own head again.
He looks down at all of the men they're passing by; back up towards the rest of this very pink island; back to Sanji. ]
[A swirled eyebrow twitches at the sentiment. Oh, if only he could be free! But no, he isn't strong enough yet, hence the training. Like it or not, he's committed for another year at the least.]
Away from those guys. There's over a hundred of them scattered across the island, and they never agreed to stop for anything. As long as we stay out of sight, they won't bother us. Then we can talk about why you're here.
[As soon as he goes through this cigarette and gets rid of his trail.
They're going to have a grand time looking for someplace that'll camouflage Mark's blues and yellows. Under a canopy might have to do the trick. Finding someplace quiet is important, because the guy is ridiculously earnest, talking about freedom like that; he can't have called for nothing.]
Subtlety never occurred to him, though. He just nods at Sanji's directions, looking around for a place where they could theoretically stay out of sight. Are there caves here, or anything like that... ]
Are those guys dangerous or anything? I mean, they can't fly, but like... are they actually a threat? [ also why did he hear josuke's name before but he's not asking that. maybe later. ] You kind of sounded frantic on the phone when I called.
[ Maybe he should have sent a text asking if Sanji was available to talk first, but... oh well. At least on the list of impulsive decisions he's made as of late this one ranks a lot, lot lower when it comes to actual consequences — which is, of course, why he's here anyway. And as much as he was willing to come here to help Sanji without second thought, he's really hoping those guys aren't dangerous, because he just... really does not want to see blood on his hands, again. ]
There's definitely a cave or two in the area. Once they start their descent, they might be able to hole up in one of them. For now, Sanji bounds across the sky for the distance and a much needed smoke.]
I just didn't want to get caught. They're freakishly strong, but their objective isn't to kill me. They're fodder while I challenge the masters for their secret recipes.
[Having said that, he does feel terror every time they come too close, simply because they have no concept of boundaries. With Mark here now, Sanji will have to take responsibility and be extra careful, so he jabs a finger in Mark's direction.]
I can't guarantee that they'll leave you alone, but the fights are mine, so don't go starting anything unless it's to defend yourself.
[ Sanji's stamina while smoking actually is kind of impressive. Mark's just gonna keep flying along beside him.
Fall behind a little as he tries to parse through Sanji's explanation, but he'll catch right back up to him, only to get a finger jabbed in his direction. He holds his own hands up, placating. ]
Trust me, as long as you're okay, fighting is the last thing I want to do here. I'll just fly away if any of them start getting close. [ He really does not need to cause Sanji more problems. ] That's kind of, um. What I wanted to talk to you about, before...
[ ...
takes a second, forces himself to brighten back up. smile a little. ]
But as long as you're not going to die then I can hold off, yeah, no problem. For... however long I end up here...
[ hm. It really is just dawning on him that he sure did make a choice, coming over without much in the way of actual information. ]
[His gaze lingers on Mark before he takes another, long drag on the cigarette. It won't be much longer now. They've crossed a decent distance with no obstacles in the sky, and there are plenty of pink canopies nearby below them.]
Don't worry. I'll make sure you're fed, and nothing's stopping you from visiting other islands.
[It's not a luxury Sanji has, but that's no reason to inconvenience Mark further for it.]
[ Yeah, it's nice and quiet up here. Mark's just trying to enjoy the view before he inevitably brings the mood down. He's never been somewhere this pink before; it's pretty when there aren't a bunch of strange men yelling at you or about you or whatever. ]
Oh. Well... that's good. [ He hadn't even thought about having to eat... Though if he had to get stuck with someone on an island Sanji actually probably is the first person he'd pick. ] Are the other islands deserted? It'd be nice to have somewhere to sleep without having to worry.
[ A beat, as something finally clicks. ]
Hey, where's your crew, anyway?
[ Is it really just Sanji out here... on his own... ]
[There are various buildings and structures throughout the island, but Sanji is keeping away from those for obvious reasons. He pulls the cigarette away to explain the probable nature of surrounding islands, only to pause when Mark brings up another reasonable question.]
Who knows? All of us are on other islands to get stronger. We're not due to meet up for another year.
[ Shooting him a baffled look. It's not entirely fair, because Mark is so overpowered to begin with that actually training hasn't occurred to him, but being separated? For a year? ... Probably longer than that, actually, taking into account how long Sanji might have been doing this before he showed up? ]
You couldn't, like... train together? Is... is that not a thing?
[It is a long time. A part of him has been dying to see everyone again. He hopes the ladies (and the guys—particularly that one—he supposes) are doing okay.]
We each have our own strengths. A swordsman doesn't need recipes, just as a navigator isn't required to learn martial techniques. Training together wouldn't be as beneficial. . . . Besides, we were already separated by the time the captain made his decision.
[The choice to be together was wrested from their hands. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, though not nearly as much as it did when it was fresh. He's working on it now; all of them are.]
[ The baffled look remains in place. The first half of what Sanji said, okay, sure, he can maybe see that. He doesn't totally get it, but everyone having their own specialty he can understand. But Sanji's captain deciding to keep everyone separated, and he doesn't seem too happy about it, and if he was in Sanji's shoes Mark doesn't think he would be, either.
His gaze softens, more concerned now. ]
... Have you been doing alright?
[ Two things hitting Mark at once: people other than him have problems (even people he cares about!), and if Sanji's the kind of guy who would kill to keep someone on his crew safe, then being separated from them for so long has to really, really suck. ]
[Honestly, no. No, he's been miserable, if mostly because the damn people of this island won't leave him alone unless he's in the sky, and even then that hasn't precluded them from shooting nets at him. Maybe it's a show of consideration from their end that nothing of the sort has happened yet with Mark here. As nice as that is, he shouldn't abuse Mark's presence too much . . .
Taking a final drag and then sighing, Sanji runs a hand through his tousled hair. Although it's a little longer than he usually keeps it, he doesn't hate the length. He should think about what to do the next time he chances upon a pair of scissors.]
This is the hell I signed up for. I just need to focus on getting stronger.
[And then everything will be fine. He'll make it so.
For now, he pulls out a small packet of sand he keeps on his person for these reprieves. He stubs the cigarette butt out in it, then proceeds to walk some more before looking down at a particularly dense canopy of tall trees.]
Here should do.
[He crosses one ankle over the other and promptly drops down, past the umbrella of pink leaves until he breaks the fall with a well-placed step above a girthy branch near the top.]
[ Sanji should absolutely abuse Mark's presence if it'll make him happier. Some good might as well come out of his rash decision to come over, right? He'd even insist on it if he knew.
But he doesn't know that much. He just watches Sanji, trying to gauge what he should do. Because training probably shouldn't be hell, he's pretty sure — but focusing on getting stronger, he gets. Way too much right about now, and it leaves him subdued, floating upright again as he watches Sanji put the cigarette out.
And then fall, much to his alarm.
Mark blinks, flabbergasted at the sudden drop before his brain kicks back into gear. He should help him. He should really, really go help him, as Mark drops down himself, speeding to catch up to Sanji—
Shooting right past him, because he can go way too fast, and also, Sanji is more than capable of catching himself—
Crashing right into the branch below, winding himself as he hugs it so he doesn't do anything else stupid. He hopes. ]
Just— [ Mark groans after a moment, rolling over so he can look up at Sanji. His mask is still clutched in one hand; at least he hasn't shattered the goggles. Yet, with his luck— ] Just a second, I'll. I'll be right up...
[Geez! Talk about an extreme trust fall. Good thing the branch is thick enough to withstand the force of Mark's crash at that speed. Hopefully the impact hasn't tipped anyone off. Interruptions won't help either of them, and now is better than later for a private conversation while the element of surprise is on their side.
Sanji lands on his feet with the grace of a cat and plop down onto the branch. His legs dangle in the air as he cranes his neck to look over his shoulder at Mark, for whom he waits to settle before posing the question that's been begging to be asked.]
So? What was that about fighting?
[They've nattered enough about him. It's Mark's turn now.]
[ He isn't even thinking of the possibility of having attracted anyone else — what are they going to do? They can just fly away again if anyone approaches — he's just getting his wind back. Relieved that he can withstand a fair bit of punishment.
Floating back on up to sit beside Sanji after another moment, feeling a whole lot less dignified now, but it's fine. Sanji isn't drawing attention to his folly, so neither will he. He joins him, aimlessly kicking his legs a little, hands beside him and resting atop the branch.
What was that about fighting, and Mark worries at his lip a little, looking away for a second. Back to Sanji.
Unfortunately he isn't going to get his wish quite yet, because Mark just opens up with, ] Sanji, have you ever killed someone?
[ Totally asking for a friend, right? And it's probably offensive on some level to ask his pirate friend that, he's realizing just now, but... there it is. Has Sanji ever killed someone, because Mark totally hasn't, noooo. ]
[What's offensive is pinning a crime he hasn't committed on him. Mark isn't doing that. While the question is unexpected, it's devoid of accusation that Sanji takes a brief moment to consider the answer he once gave Minami without a noticeable shift in his expression.]
Yeah, probably. [At the very least, he's left behind lasting damage.] Why do you ask?
[Mark seems restless. Has there been a death in his life . . . ?]
... I don't know how to deal with it. [ The words just come spilling out, voice strained. Mark turns to stare ahead of him, at nothing. ] I shouldn't be able to— I shouldn't. Kill people. I shouldn't want to, I shouldn't be capable of—
[ He whips his gaze to look back at Sanji, desperation in his eyes. Like he can fix this, somehow. If he can just tell Mark how to deal then it'll all go away, somehow. ]
I'm terrified. What if it happens again? How... How do you stop yourself from killing again? I can't— I can't be that person...
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Okay. Okay, no, he's back in reality now. A reality where other people might have their own problems; where they might not just be standing in their bedroom with the most serious thing to have ever happened to anyone ever hanging over them, needing someone to talk to.
... But he's already called Sanji is the thing here, so. Okay. Okay, ]
Sanji— Hi, sorry. [ A beat, having the grace to go from sounding upset to mildly embarrassed as he continues. ] Shit, is this a bad time?
no subject
Frazzled as he is, Sanji's senses are wholly alert that he clocks the upset in Mark's tone. There's not going to be a good time for yet another year from now, so he keeps the phone up to his ear while parrying an incoming kick with one of his own.]
What is it?!
[Mark can probably hear the high-pitched yet masculine battle cries in the background as more pursuers converge around Sanji, who's on the verge of screaming, because he's in the middle of an important conversation.]
no subject
So, instead, urgency flooding his own tone: ] Do you need help? Should I come over??
[ Nevermind that he'd probably end up in Sanji's world for a while if he did; this seems a lot more pressing? And after his wish, things are... better, here. Maybe not necessarily great, considering recent events, but good enough that he can afford to go flying off elsewhere on a whim if it means helping someone else. Which he is about two seconds away from doing, regardless of what Sanji actually says, unless he hears pure calm coming from his end of the line. ]
no subject
[The word punches out of him, punctuated with a kick to knock aside his next opponent. No, he does not need help. Unintelligible words trickle over to Mark's side, followed by Sanji's booming shout at the crowd:] Back off—this call isn't for you!
[His exasperation is met with a chorus of teasing tones. The okama proceed to pelt him with needless questions about his conversation partner, all while still launching themselves at him. One of them gives a bizarre bodily wiggle and asks in a loud voice, "Is it Josuke?" to which Sanji sputters.]
Shut up!
[A series of odd scraping and thudding sounds fill Mark's audio feed as Sanji drops onto his hands and delivers spinning kicks to create a wide berth around him. Then he flip onto his feet and leaps into the sky, running like he's on fire toward the sun. Wind whips around the phone, which he raises to his ear again.]
Hey, Mark! What are you calling for?
no subject
(And was that Josuke's name he heard?? Huh??)
He listens to the teasing, the loud voices, Sanji's exasperation, the sounds of what might be fighting?? And that's it, there's only so much of this he can impotently take. He's already pulling his costume on, because it feels right to have it for this, mind made up. ]
Hold on — I'm coming over.
[ Because it really, really sounds like he needs help. Mark just wanted someone to talk to, but maybe getting to punch some guys to help a friend is better than talking, actually.
And before Sanji can so much as object the call is dropped, Mark's phone snapping shut — and there he is, right in the sky with Sanji, full superhero regalia on and everything—
Wait, Sanji isn't falling. Sanji isn't falling! He can't help but grin at him, not entirely sure where the threat is coming from, but happy to just bask in this moment first. ]
Sanji! I, uh... [ okay maybe this is a little awkward now, actually. ] I did want to talk, but it sounded like you needed help...
[ looking around for the threat like. Did he need help?? ]
no subject
Sanji hops in place, casually alternating one foot with the other to stay airborne, as he whips his head in the direction of the costumed stranger. The tension in his shoulders and legs drains away, and the anxiety of having to deal with the mess below in the sky dissipates once he recognizes Mark's voice.]
Didn't I tell you that I don't? [All the same, Sanji's tone is resigned now that Mark is here.] I was in the middle of training.
[This seems important to point out when he looks worse for wear compared to his tidy appearance back at the house. His clothes are crumpled with a few tears here and there; sand clings to the suit fabric in patches while his face sports old scratches on his cheeks, a split lip, and a trail of dried blood stemming from one temple. He can't have Mark getting the wrong idea and fighting battles designed for his own gain.
Said threats—men of impressive physique and size, all dressed in drag—clamor below them from the shore of a vibrant island. Actually, it sounds like they're squealing, their quest to corner Sanji momentarily forgotten in the buzzing excitement of a new male presence. Sanji ignores them in favor of putting away his damned phone, procuring a pack of cigarettes (branded Death) from his pocket, and lighting a stick now that he no longer has to hide.]
But it's about time for a break, so I'll hear you out.
no subject
Mark at least has the decency to pull his mask off as he takes in Sanji's appearance; the tears on his clothes, the blood on his face. Is that from training or an actual fight... He looks down at the shore below them, the... colourful cast of characters there. Is this the world Sanji lives in... what kind of training is this...
He's a little lost in his head, just kind of. Staring. For the moment. But as long as they're in the air it doesn't seem like a threat, which brings up a whole other thing, since the last time Sanji was in the air he was perched on Mark's shoulders, and—
Looking back up at Sanji again when he speaks. Catches the label on the cigarette pack which, uh. And for the moment, his own problems seem far away (quite possibly because they literally are, now that he's in another world entirely). ]
I didn't know you were training— [ IS that what this is. peering down at the men below them again— ] Wait, I didn't know you could fly?
[ Gesturing at Sanji's feet, the little hopping motions while Mark is just hovering there, not moving otherwise. When he looks back up at Sanji he's beaming though, clearly not at all bothered by this development. ]
When did this happen?
no subject
When I was cornered, the only way left was up . . . so I ran toward the sky, and this is the result.
[He can walk on air. The speed and duration of his artificial flight are restricted by his bodily limits, but he's been improving those in . . . training. Yeah.
Sanji snaps back to attention, eyeing Mark, who's bared his face. Well, he supposes there's no harm in showing it here of all places—and so high up, too. But he'd rather lose the crowd for the conversation they're bound to have, so he begins trekking inland, still airbone, to move out of sight.]
no subject
As Sanji starts moving inland Mark follows along, his own body going horizontal to move alongside him. Two completely different methods of flying — he'd have never guessed it, but also, there really is something nice about being able to hang out with a friend like this. It never gets old. ]
That... really sounds like you, actually. [ Sanji just... running towards the sky. ] Now you've got a way to always be free.
[ He's really clung to that, even as his world views have had to expand, bit by bit. Sanji, so openly a pirate, but so he can stay free. Especially after he saw the cell— He isn't going to be so crass as to bring it up, just that the need for freedom is his anchor for knowing that Sanji is a good guy. Deserves to have good things, like his own determination and spirit granting him the ability to be up here. It keeps Mark's voice warm, keeps him from spiralling out in his own head again.
He looks down at all of the men they're passing by; back up towards the rest of this very pink island; back to Sanji. ]
Where are we going?
no subject
Away from those guys. There's over a hundred of them scattered across the island, and they never agreed to stop for anything. As long as we stay out of sight, they won't bother us. Then we can talk about why you're here.
[As soon as he goes through this cigarette and gets rid of his trail.
They're going to have a grand time looking for someplace that'll camouflage Mark's blues and yellows. Under a canopy might have to do the trick. Finding someplace quiet is important, because the guy is ridiculously earnest, talking about freedom like that; he can't have called for nothing.]
no subject
Subtlety never occurred to him, though. He just nods at Sanji's directions, looking around for a place where they could theoretically stay out of sight. Are there caves here, or anything like that... ]
Are those guys dangerous or anything? I mean, they can't fly, but like... are they actually a threat? [ also why did he hear josuke's name before but he's not asking that. maybe later. ] You kind of sounded frantic on the phone when I called.
[ Maybe he should have sent a text asking if Sanji was available to talk first, but... oh well. At least on the list of impulsive decisions he's made as of late this one ranks a lot, lot lower when it comes to actual consequences — which is, of course, why he's here anyway. And as much as he was willing to come here to help Sanji without second thought, he's really hoping those guys aren't dangerous, because he just... really does not want to see blood on his hands, again. ]
no subject
There's definitely a cave or two in the area. Once they start their descent, they might be able to hole up in one of them. For now, Sanji bounds across the sky for the distance and a much needed smoke.]
I just didn't want to get caught. They're freakishly strong, but their objective isn't to kill me. They're fodder while I challenge the masters for their secret recipes.
[Having said that, he does feel terror every time they come too close, simply because they have no concept of boundaries. With Mark here now, Sanji will have to take responsibility and be extra careful, so he jabs a finger in Mark's direction.]
I can't guarantee that they'll leave you alone, but the fights are mine, so don't go starting anything unless it's to defend yourself.
no subject
Fall behind a little as he tries to parse through Sanji's explanation, but he'll catch right back up to him, only to get a finger jabbed in his direction. He holds his own hands up, placating. ]
Trust me, as long as you're okay, fighting is the last thing I want to do here. I'll just fly away if any of them start getting close. [ He really does not need to cause Sanji more problems. ] That's kind of, um. What I wanted to talk to you about, before...
[ ...
takes a second, forces himself to brighten back up. smile a little. ]
But as long as you're not going to die then I can hold off, yeah, no problem. For... however long I end up here...
[ hm. It really is just dawning on him that he sure did make a choice, coming over without much in the way of actual information. ]
no subject
Don't worry. I'll make sure you're fed, and nothing's stopping you from visiting other islands.
[It's not a luxury Sanji has, but that's no reason to inconvenience Mark further for it.]
no subject
Oh. Well... that's good. [ He hadn't even thought about having to eat... Though if he had to get stuck with someone on an island Sanji actually probably is the first person he'd pick. ] Are the other islands deserted? It'd be nice to have somewhere to sleep without having to worry.
[ A beat, as something finally clicks. ]
Hey, where's your crew, anyway?
[ Is it really just Sanji out here... on his own... ]
no subject
Who knows? All of us are on other islands to get stronger. We're not due to meet up for another year.
no subject
[ Shooting him a baffled look. It's not entirely fair, because Mark is so overpowered to begin with that actually training hasn't occurred to him, but being separated? For a year? ... Probably longer than that, actually, taking into account how long Sanji might have been doing this before he showed up? ]
You couldn't, like... train together? Is... is that not a thing?
[ And a year feels like such a long time... ]
no subject
We each have our own strengths. A swordsman doesn't need recipes, just as a navigator isn't required to learn martial techniques. Training together wouldn't be as beneficial. . . . Besides, we were already separated by the time the captain made his decision.
[The choice to be together was wrested from their hands. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, though not nearly as much as it did when it was fresh. He's working on it now; all of them are.]
no subject
[ The baffled look remains in place. The first half of what Sanji said, okay, sure, he can maybe see that. He doesn't totally get it, but everyone having their own specialty he can understand. But Sanji's captain deciding to keep everyone separated, and he doesn't seem too happy about it, and if he was in Sanji's shoes Mark doesn't think he would be, either.
His gaze softens, more concerned now. ]
... Have you been doing alright?
[ Two things hitting Mark at once: people other than him have problems (even people he cares about!), and if Sanji's the kind of guy who would kill to keep someone on his crew safe, then being separated from them for so long has to really, really suck. ]
no subject
Taking a final drag and then sighing, Sanji runs a hand through his tousled hair. Although it's a little longer than he usually keeps it, he doesn't hate the length. He should think about what to do the next time he chances upon a pair of scissors.]
This is the hell I signed up for. I just need to focus on getting stronger.
[And then everything will be fine. He'll make it so.
For now, he pulls out a small packet of sand he keeps on his person for these reprieves. He stubs the cigarette butt out in it, then proceeds to walk some more before looking down at a particularly dense canopy of tall trees.]
Here should do.
[He crosses one ankle over the other and promptly drops down, past the umbrella of pink leaves until he breaks the fall with a well-placed step above a girthy branch near the top.]
no subject
But he doesn't know that much. He just watches Sanji, trying to gauge what he should do. Because training probably shouldn't be hell, he's pretty sure — but focusing on getting stronger, he gets. Way too much right about now, and it leaves him subdued, floating upright again as he watches Sanji put the cigarette out.
And then fall, much to his alarm.
Mark blinks, flabbergasted at the sudden drop before his brain kicks back into gear. He should help him. He should really, really go help him, as Mark drops down himself, speeding to catch up to Sanji—
Shooting right past him, because he can go way too fast, and also, Sanji is more than capable of catching himself—
Crashing right into the branch below, winding himself as he hugs it so he doesn't do anything else stupid. He hopes. ]
Just— [ Mark groans after a moment, rolling over so he can look up at Sanji. His mask is still clutched in one hand; at least he hasn't shattered the goggles. Yet, with his luck— ] Just a second, I'll. I'll be right up...
Wasn't expecting that...
no subject
Sanji lands on his feet with the grace of a cat and plop down onto the branch. His legs dangle in the air as he cranes his neck to look over his shoulder at Mark, for whom he waits to settle before posing the question that's been begging to be asked.]
So? What was that about fighting?
[They've nattered enough about him. It's Mark's turn now.]
no subject
Floating back on up to sit beside Sanji after another moment, feeling a whole lot less dignified now, but it's fine. Sanji isn't drawing attention to his folly, so neither will he. He joins him, aimlessly kicking his legs a little, hands beside him and resting atop the branch.
What was that about fighting, and Mark worries at his lip a little, looking away for a second. Back to Sanji.
Unfortunately he isn't going to get his wish quite yet, because Mark just opens up with, ] Sanji, have you ever killed someone?
[ Totally asking for a friend, right? And it's probably offensive on some level to ask his pirate friend that, he's realizing just now, but... there it is. Has Sanji ever killed someone, because Mark totally hasn't, noooo. ]
no subject
Yeah, probably. [At the very least, he's left behind lasting damage.] Why do you ask?
[Mark seems restless. Has there been a death in his life . . . ?]
no subject
[ He whips his gaze to look back at Sanji, desperation in his eyes. Like he can fix this, somehow. If he can just tell Mark how to deal then it'll all go away, somehow. ]
I'm terrified. What if it happens again? How... How do you stop yourself from killing again? I can't— I can't be that person...
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)