[ 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
... 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.]
no subject
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. ]