[It's an idea. Hopefully it's one that nudges Sanji toward a favorable move for himself, but they haven't got the time right now. It's about time for the family to begin the journey on land.
Reiju heads for the door. She'll trust Mark with this much.]
Remember what I said. We'll be heading out soon; you'll know when by the noise.
[True to her word, before long a commotion stirs outside where the kingdom's many soldiers not assigned to security detail have convened around the castle gate to send off the royal family in affectionate and proud cheers. Nyasha is there to pull the carriage. The Vinsmokes board one by one, all draped in similar finery of white against red. Neither Sanji nor Reiju looks back or so much as glances in Mark's approximate direction . . . and then they're off, leaving behind the massive snails on which Germa sits and being pulled across a land of vibrant greens against a hilly backdrop, overlooked by a blanket of white clouds that dot the sky.]
[ He really doesn't have a choice but to follow Reiju's instructions, so that's exactly what he'll do. He stays in her room, looking around, but there isn't really much there— until he perks up at the noise outside, and he peaks out of the balcony to see what it is. Sees the carriage, which looks like something out of some fantasy story. Sees the... giant cat?? Only this one walks on four legs and probably won't try to rip his face off, so that's cool.
Sees them take off, and then he does the same, flying up into the clouds and following them from a safe distance up above, peaking down every now and then to make sure he's staying with them.
He did notice the snails, and with that understanding clicked into Mark's mind, about everyone drowning if he destroyed the place. (Would he end up destroying the snails, too? Surely they didn't do anything to deserve that.) Everything about where Sanji comes from is so odd, but he supposes he shouldn't judge, considering his entire deal.
At least the landscape is gorgeous when he takes it in as he follows along from above. It feels normal, untouched by destruction, pristine, and he's hoping it can stay that way... but who knows, considering where they're heading. Because as far as Mark is concerned, Sanji is by far the most important person here, and he isn't deviating from that. ]
Speaking of, the hills and mountains all have faces that make expressions at the passing royals and their entourage. Luckily for Mark, they've yet to notice him.
When Reiju met him alone and empty-handed at the castle prior to departure, Sanji hoped it meant that Mark had left. To where, he doesn't know, but anywhere is better than here. Even the Baratie isn't all that safe anymore. Mark has a home and loved ones to protect beyond these waters, so it's better if they never cross paths again. Seated between two of his brothers with a stomach churning from dread, Sanji prays that this is the end of it—that Mark goes on to claim a happy future for himself and his family, away from this nonsense.
Because of this and the rather abundant presence of souls around them, he fails to observe the faint life signature overhead. For better or for worse, any attention is invariably drawn to Sanji when an enormous, topless tree rushes through the plain from the direction of a sprawling forest. Atop it sits Nami, and at the forefront is Luffy, who's already stretched his arms to latch onto the carriage door. Mark's distance renders the ensuing conversation mute, but the whimsical atmosphere soon sours when Luffy is sent flying back from a powerful kick. The leg that extends past the obstruction of the carriage's roof retracts, and Sanji descends from the carriage with a scornful bearing.
Nami leans forward from her perch on the tree, seeming to implore Sanji before recoiling from his response. He and Luffy then appear to exchange words, but neither side backs down when the former assumes a martial stance with both arms raised. Flames erupt around his right leg, and Sanji leaps forward at breakneck speed to deliver another kick.
A one-sided beatdown ensues, wherein Luffy continues to rise without fighting back while Sanji's kicks grow in viciousness, each one harsher than the last, until he takes to the skies. Nami's frantic shouts crescendo to tearful screams, loud enough that Mark can perhaps make out her begging for Sanji to stop—that they'll leave like he wants—but he shows no sign of stopping. He draws his knees up and hunches inward between the clouds, brow furrowed with eyes full of deranged intent, ready to kick off his descent as an executioner's blade.]
[ ignoring the faces in the landscape any time he happens to spot one.
There is alarm on his part when a tree??? rushes towards the carriage, though. Before Mark can so much as think to react, there's a lot happening below him — someone who reminds him of Shapesmith stretching out towards him and then going flying, Sanji's prowess and apparent new harshness on display, and Mark is left wondering if he should intervene. Seeing Sanji beat someone who isn't fighting back is
It's horrific. Everything that Mark's been through in the years since he got his powers, and he has never, would never. Angstrom provoked him and deserved worse than he got, he remembers. Conquest needed to die. Mark has had every justification in the world every time he's lost his shit and beat down on someone without mercy, and there's no way that what Sanji is doing is the same. He doesn't know who he's attacking, just that they aren't fighting back. Were maybe friends once, too, from what he can pick up. And it doesn't matter how good of a friend Sanji is or was; Mark has decided he's not letting him get away with this any further.
Only for Sanji to shoot up into the sky, and that makes his life a little easier.
Before Sanji can start to descend Mark shoots out from his spot, aiming to grab any one of his limbs, whatever's closest between ankle or wrist or whatever. (If one of them lights on fire again he's pretty sure he can withstand it. Probably.) If he can he'll try to lurch Sanji in towards him, bringing them face to face so he can hiss, rather than yell (though he'll do that if he has to, too), ] What the fuck is wrong with you?
[ This is sick, he feels sick. But he's also pissed, because nothing justifies this — and it's probably better for him to lean into his anger than his morals, because that's just the way the world tends to work, what the universe tends to reward. ]
A hand clamps down on his wrist, right where a golden bracelet sits. Sanji freezes as he's whirled around, and his eyes widen in recognition of the increasingly familiar fury on the face of someone who isn't supposed to be here. Panic sets in. Are the clouds providing cover? The carriage has a roof, but what of the soldiers among the audience—can they see what's happening overhead? Has Mark been sighted?
(What isn't wrong with him?)
The fire around his leg dies out. Sanji yanks his arm back in an attempt to free himself, his chest clenching tighter insofar that it's starting to hurt. It's hard to breathe, yet he spits out his indignation all the same.]
[ the landscape is sometimes creepier than any landscape should ever be??
Sanji yanks his arm back and the movement only inspires Mark to tighten his grip, letting himself be swung along from the momentum but refusing to let go. He's pissed off enough to fail to recognize any distress Sanji may be in. It's easier to respond to the indignation with his own anger. ]
Go where? [ He moves in to really crowd Sanji's space, refusing to give any quarter. Maybe Sanji can see his own reflection in Mark's goggles, tinted as they may be. ] You're the only person here I know, and you think I'm going to abandon you when something's clearly wrong? Really?
[ If he takes the time to think about it, he could pinpoint his anger to the fact that such a thing would be insulting, but mostly he's just mad in general about everything that's going on instead, and Sanji's the only one around to take it out on. ]
[It's not abandonment when Mark wasn't invited, he wants to argue. Sanji has already said and done some truly unforgivable things in order to spare him that awful sense of responsibility, but the guy's too stubborn for his own good. He kicks back against the air, keeping himself afloat and pulling Mark along while his reflection in the goggles chases after him as if in mockery of his futile efforts.
Stop being selfish, he wants to say, only for the words to catch in his throat when the pressure around the bracelet sets off a series of muffled beeps. While Mark's palm mutes the alarm, it pierces deafeningly through the roaring rush of blood in Sanji's ears. Wide-eyed, he jerks his arm back again with more force, panic rising in his strained voice.]
[ Until Sanji starts slaughtering innocent civilians en masse, Mark is going to be able to handle whatever he throws at him. He might hate it, sure, but he's also not going anywhere.
Case in point, Mark's still holding on as Sanji jerks his arm back, his own direction changing from the force of Sanji's movements. And also probably pulling him along with him. And because Mark doesn't need to get his bearings, he can just keep on talking like nothing's really the matter. ]
I'm not letting go—
[ wait ]
Wait. [ He's righting himself mid-air so he can take a closer look at the bracelet near his grip. ] Is this thing hurting you?
At this point, it doesn't really matter what happens to him or his hand. He just doesn't want Mark to be caught in the blast. It could amount to nothing more than a scratch, if that, for someone so durable, but that's not a risk Sanji is willing to take—so no, he's not going to wait.
Unfortunately, the bracelet's sensitivity to perceived tampering means he can't apply any more pressure than it's already under, no matter how incidental. Using his other hand to pry Mark off is out of the question, and that leaves Sanji to go rigid, buoyed by small stiff steps. The beeping persists, louder now that the cuff is better exposed from Mark's shifted grip.]
[ But smashing is such a good solution? For so many of his problems, especially these days?
... Can he smash a bomb without hurting the person wearing it, though? Mark hesitates for a second, because he isn't sure if that's an option, before acquiescing. He lets go, flying backwards to give them a little bit of distance, but still confident he can grab Sanji if he tries to make a run for it. ]
Okay, [ and there's just a little bit of panic in his voice, all of it concern for Sanji. Mark is also confident that he'll be fine, but most people are not as durable as him. Including Sanji, ] okay. How do we, um, disable it?
[ That seems like the new top priority right now. ]
[The distance quells his panic. Sanji whips his arm back as soon as it's free, his hand swinging down to his side as he kicks off once in retreat. The beeping stops with the bracelet's dormancy; however, his breathing is labored and he's far from placated despite the immediate relief.
He glances down at the waiting audience with ragged, anxious breaths. Up and down, East to West—there are too many parties at play. Too many thoughts and voices and memories, all vying for his attention. The Sunny, the Baratie, the set, the castle, and the quaint cafe on Cacao Island. Laughter that's sweet and then sinister. Promises of joy and misery.
Sanji looks up at Mark, his expression hardening.]
You can't. [His voice is low again lest he scream.] I'm going back down. Don't stop me.
[ Mark's relief that the beeping stops is enough for the both of them at first. It has to be, as he registers that Sanji's still tense. And it's not like he can blame him, considering everyone gathered below, people probably wondering why Sanji is still up here — but that doesn't change the fact that he's still being an asshole, even with the immediate danger nullified.
At first, his expression is flat in return. ]
Why, so you can keep beating on that guy who wasn't even fighting back? [ Like a dick, he wants to say, but restrains himself, expression and voice both softening. ] You know you don't have to do this, right? We can figure out a way to deal with the bomb. Just let me help.
[ Back to being his regular, undeterred, goodboy self. There's a slight tensing to his body, though, like if Sanji does go back down Mark is ready to grab him and do this all over again. A subtle challenge he isn't going to voice now that he's gotten a little more context, but there all the same — just try me. ]
[Mark's intent may as well be rolling off of him in waves. Sanji's legs tense in response, ready to do whatever it takes to get back down and carry on with business.
He has to. There's no other way around it. He's made his choice, even if it means becoming somebody utterly hateful.]
It's a duel with a nobody. I don't need or want your help.
[The bomb's the least of his concerns. It'd kill him in more ways than one if it were to detonate, but that's unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Mark should be insignificant, too, because this has nothing to do with him—and so, Sanji draws his knees up to kick off and begin his descent.]
[ Mark sees Sanji draw his knees up, get ready to go back down after pretty much telling him to fuck off, yet again, and something in him that he'd been keeping buried finally snaps. ]
Fuck you. [ His voice is quiet, but he's glaring daggers at Sanji. Soft-spoken, but pissed. ] There's a literal bomb strapped to your wrist and you're saying you don't need help? It's not like you used my face to kill god knows how many people, so maybe try a little harder if you want to get rid of me so bad.
[ And with that he will swoop right back in to grab any part of Sanji he can to keep him up in the air. Preferably nowhere near anything that might beep or explode, but if that's the first part of him he can manage to get ahold of then so be it. ]
No. He doesn't have time for that. Whatever Mark's shouldering, he has loved ones who can help him bear the burden. He doesn't need Sanji—never did, in all honesty. If he knows what's good for him, he'll never look back once this is over.
As for Sanji, he knows what he needs to do, so what's one more strike against him in the sea of transgressions? He's just kicked off when a hand clamps around his left lower leg, the suddenness of which pulls a grunt out of him. Held in place by the iron grip, he tightens his core and flexes against the pull of gravity to lift his chin and shoot Mark a glare.
He can feel them. The voices below shift like ripples on the water's surface, reacting to his prolonged absence. Time's running short. The faces of rowdy cooks and annoying culinary masters white out his vision, and Sanji reacts the only way he can—violently, with the snap of his free leg.]
If you want to be responsible for more, keep bothering me. I'll detonate both bracelets while I'm at it.
[ Mark recoils at that sudden kick, less out of pain (he's had worse), more out of surprise — that Sanji would do that to begin with; that it still actually did hurt, physically and emotionally.
Not only does he let go, but he recoils at his words, too. For a second Mark just stares, disbelieving. And then he scrunches his face in frustration all over again. ]
You'd hurt yourself just to try to get back at me for trying to help you? [ He runs a hand through his hair, agitated. ] Do you seriously have a death wish?
[ How he means it: How far are you willing to go, Sanji? If he inadvertently threatened his friend(?), well... that's something Mark himself hasn't picked up on, because he doesn't think Sanji is capable of driving him to the point where he'd feel the need to put a permanent end to his shit, as frustrating as this entire experience has been, continues to be. ]
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no subject
Reiju heads for the door. She'll trust Mark with this much.]
Remember what I said. We'll be heading out soon; you'll know when by the noise.
[True to her word, before long a commotion stirs outside where the kingdom's many soldiers not assigned to security detail have convened around the castle gate to send off the royal family in affectionate and proud cheers. Nyasha is there to pull the carriage. The Vinsmokes board one by one, all draped in similar finery of white against red. Neither Sanji nor Reiju looks back or so much as glances in Mark's approximate direction . . . and then they're off, leaving behind the massive snails on which Germa sits and being pulled across a land of vibrant greens against a hilly backdrop, overlooked by a blanket of white clouds that dot the sky.]
no subject
Sees them take off, and then he does the same, flying up into the clouds and following them from a safe distance up above, peaking down every now and then to make sure he's staying with them.
He did notice the snails, and with that understanding clicked into Mark's mind, about everyone drowning if he destroyed the place. (Would he end up destroying the snails, too? Surely they didn't do anything to deserve that.) Everything about where Sanji comes from is so odd, but he supposes he shouldn't judge, considering his entire deal.
At least the landscape is gorgeous when he takes it in as he follows along from above. It feels normal, untouched by destruction, pristine, and he's hoping it can stay that way... but who knows, considering where they're heading. Because as far as Mark is concerned, Sanji is by far the most important person here, and he isn't deviating from that. ]
this canon point was a mistake for brevity aaAAH
Speaking of, the hills and mountains all have faces that make expressions at the passing royals and their entourage. Luckily for Mark, they've yet to notice him.
When Reiju met him alone and empty-handed at the castle prior to departure, Sanji hoped it meant that Mark had left. To where, he doesn't know, but anywhere is better than here. Even the Baratie isn't all that safe anymore. Mark has a home and loved ones to protect beyond these waters, so it's better if they never cross paths again. Seated between two of his brothers with a stomach churning from dread, Sanji prays that this is the end of it—that Mark goes on to claim a happy future for himself and his family, away from this nonsense.
Because of this and the rather abundant presence of souls around them, he fails to observe the faint life signature overhead. For better or for worse, any attention is invariably drawn to Sanji when an enormous, topless tree rushes through the plain from the direction of a sprawling forest. Atop it sits Nami, and at the forefront is Luffy, who's already stretched his arms to latch onto the carriage door. Mark's distance renders the ensuing conversation mute, but the whimsical atmosphere soon sours when Luffy is sent flying back from a powerful kick. The leg that extends past the obstruction of the carriage's roof retracts, and Sanji descends from the carriage with a scornful bearing.
Nami leans forward from her perch on the tree, seeming to implore Sanji before recoiling from his response. He and Luffy then appear to exchange words, but neither side backs down when the former assumes a martial stance with both arms raised. Flames erupt around his right leg, and Sanji leaps forward at breakneck speed to deliver another kick.
A one-sided beatdown ensues, wherein Luffy continues to rise without fighting back while Sanji's kicks grow in viciousness, each one harsher than the last, until he takes to the skies. Nami's frantic shouts crescendo to tearful screams, loud enough that Mark can perhaps make out her begging for Sanji to stop—that they'll leave like he wants—but he shows no sign of stopping. He draws his knees up and hunches inward between the clouds, brow furrowed with eyes full of deranged intent, ready to kick off his descent as an executioner's blade.]
huSH you're great with it
There is alarm on his part when a tree??? rushes towards the carriage, though. Before Mark can so much as think to react, there's a lot happening below him — someone who reminds him of Shapesmith stretching out towards him and then going flying, Sanji's prowess and apparent new harshness on display, and Mark is left wondering if he should intervene. Seeing Sanji beat someone who isn't fighting back is
It's horrific. Everything that Mark's been through in the years since he got his powers, and he has never, would never. Angstrom provoked him and deserved worse than he got, he remembers. Conquest needed to die. Mark has had every justification in the world every time he's lost his shit and beat down on someone without mercy, and there's no way that what Sanji is doing is the same. He doesn't know who he's attacking, just that they aren't fighting back. Were maybe friends once, too, from what he can pick up. And it doesn't matter how good of a friend Sanji is or was; Mark has decided he's not letting him get away with this any further.
Only for Sanji to shoot up into the sky, and that makes his life a little easier.
Before Sanji can start to descend Mark shoots out from his spot, aiming to grab any one of his limbs, whatever's closest between ankle or wrist or whatever. (If one of them lights on fire again he's pretty sure he can withstand it. Probably.) If he can he'll try to lurch Sanji in towards him, bringing them face to face so he can hiss, rather than yell (though he'll do that if he has to, too), ] What the fuck is wrong with you?
[ This is sick, he feels sick. But he's also pissed, because nothing justifies this — and it's probably better for him to lean into his anger than his morals, because that's just the way the world tends to work, what the universe tends to reward. ]
😭 merci beaucoup
A hand clamps down on his wrist, right where a golden bracelet sits. Sanji freezes as he's whirled around, and his eyes widen in recognition of the increasingly familiar fury on the face of someone who isn't supposed to be here. Panic sets in. Are the clouds providing cover? The carriage has a roof, but what of the soldiers among the audience—can they see what's happening overhead? Has Mark been sighted?
(What isn't wrong with him?)
The fire around his leg dies out. Sanji yanks his arm back in an attempt to free himself, his chest clenching tighter insofar that it's starting to hurt. It's hard to breathe, yet he spits out his indignation all the same.]
Why are you still here? I told you to go!
no subject
Sanji yanks his arm back and the movement only inspires Mark to tighten his grip, letting himself be swung along from the momentum but refusing to let go. He's pissed off enough to fail to recognize any distress Sanji may be in. It's easier to respond to the indignation with his own anger. ]
Go where? [ He moves in to really crowd Sanji's space, refusing to give any quarter. Maybe Sanji can see his own reflection in Mark's goggles, tinted as they may be. ] You're the only person here I know, and you think I'm going to abandon you when something's clearly wrong? Really?
[ If he takes the time to think about it, he could pinpoint his anger to the fact that such a thing would be insulting, but mostly he's just mad in general about everything that's going on instead, and Sanji's the only one around to take it out on. ]
no subject
Stop being selfish, he wants to say, only for the words to catch in his throat when the pressure around the bracelet sets off a series of muffled beeps. While Mark's palm mutes the alarm, it pierces deafeningly through the roaring rush of blood in Sanji's ears. Wide-eyed, he jerks his arm back again with more force, panic rising in his strained voice.]
Let go. Now!
no subject
Case in point, Mark's still holding on as Sanji jerks his arm back, his own direction changing from the force of Sanji's movements. And also probably pulling him along with him. And because Mark doesn't need to get his bearings, he can just keep on talking like nothing's really the matter. ]
I'm not letting go—
[ wait ]
Wait. [ He's righting himself mid-air so he can take a closer look at the bracelet near his grip. ] Is this thing hurting you?
[ Probably implied: Can I just break it off?? ]
no subject
At this point, it doesn't really matter what happens to him or his hand. He just doesn't want Mark to be caught in the blast. It could amount to nothing more than a scratch, if that, for someone so durable, but that's not a risk Sanji is willing to take—so no, he's not going to wait.
Unfortunately, the bracelet's sensitivity to perceived tampering means he can't apply any more pressure than it's already under, no matter how incidental. Using his other hand to pry Mark off is out of the question, and that leaves Sanji to go rigid, buoyed by small stiff steps. The beeping persists, louder now that the cuff is better exposed from Mark's shifted grip.]
Stop touching it! It's going to explode!
no subject
... Can he smash a bomb without hurting the person wearing it, though? Mark hesitates for a second, because he isn't sure if that's an option, before acquiescing. He lets go, flying backwards to give them a little bit of distance, but still confident he can grab Sanji if he tries to make a run for it. ]
Okay, [ and there's just a little bit of panic in his voice, all of it concern for Sanji. Mark is also confident that he'll be fine, but most people are not as durable as him. Including Sanji, ] okay. How do we, um, disable it?
[ That seems like the new top priority right now. ]
no subject
He glances down at the waiting audience with ragged, anxious breaths. Up and down, East to West—there are too many parties at play. Too many thoughts and voices and memories, all vying for his attention. The Sunny, the Baratie, the set, the castle, and the quaint cafe on Cacao Island. Laughter that's sweet and then sinister. Promises of joy and misery.
Sanji looks up at Mark, his expression hardening.]
You can't. [His voice is low again lest he scream.] I'm going back down. Don't stop me.
no subject
At first, his expression is flat in return. ]
Why, so you can keep beating on that guy who wasn't even fighting back? [ Like a dick, he wants to say, but restrains himself, expression and voice both softening. ] You know you don't have to do this, right? We can figure out a way to deal with the bomb. Just let me help.
[ Back to being his regular, undeterred, goodboy self. There's a slight tensing to his body, though, like if Sanji does go back down Mark is ready to grab him and do this all over again. A subtle challenge he isn't going to voice now that he's gotten a little more context, but there all the same — just try me. ]
no subject
He has to. There's no other way around it. He's made his choice, even if it means becoming somebody utterly hateful.]
It's a duel with a nobody. I don't need or want your help.
[The bomb's the least of his concerns. It'd kill him in more ways than one if it were to detonate, but that's unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Mark should be insignificant, too, because this has nothing to do with him—and so, Sanji draws his knees up to kick off and begin his descent.]
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Fuck you. [ His voice is quiet, but he's glaring daggers at Sanji. Soft-spoken, but pissed. ] There's a literal bomb strapped to your wrist and you're saying you don't need help? It's not like you used my face to kill god knows how many people, so maybe try a little harder if you want to get rid of me so bad.
[ And with that he will swoop right back in to grab any part of Sanji he can to keep him up in the air. Preferably nowhere near anything that might beep or explode, but if that's the first part of him he can manage to get ahold of then so be it. ]
no subject
No. He doesn't have time for that. Whatever Mark's shouldering, he has loved ones who can help him bear the burden. He doesn't need Sanji—never did, in all honesty. If he knows what's good for him, he'll never look back once this is over.
As for Sanji, he knows what he needs to do, so what's one more strike against him in the sea of transgressions? He's just kicked off when a hand clamps around his left lower leg, the suddenness of which pulls a grunt out of him. Held in place by the iron grip, he tightens his core and flexes against the pull of gravity to lift his chin and shoot Mark a glare.
He can feel them. The voices below shift like ripples on the water's surface, reacting to his prolonged absence. Time's running short. The faces of rowdy cooks and annoying culinary masters white out his vision, and Sanji reacts the only way he can—violently, with the snap of his free leg.]
If you want to be responsible for more, keep bothering me. I'll detonate both bracelets while I'm at it.
no subject
Not only does he let go, but he recoils at his words, too. For a second Mark just stares, disbelieving. And then he scrunches his face in frustration all over again. ]
You'd hurt yourself just to try to get back at me for trying to help you? [ He runs a hand through his hair, agitated. ] Do you seriously have a death wish?
[ How he means it: How far are you willing to go, Sanji? If he inadvertently threatened his friend(?), well... that's something Mark himself hasn't picked up on, because he doesn't think Sanji is capable of driving him to the point where he'd feel the need to put a permanent end to his shit, as frustrating as this entire experience has been, continues to be. ]