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[The gift comes wrapped meticulously in paper that, while not strictly holiday-themed is nevertheless very appropriate, considering who it’s from. The gift is inside, nestled in pale blue tissue paper: An assortment of candied fruit, nuts and chocolates from the faire, for those of his friends who actually eat. For those who don’t, this portion of the gift is replaced with a simple calendar.
For Nami, an entirely unsuitable-for-the-current-weather dress, and, in a velvet box, a ring. The tiny gem chips are familiar colors – yellow, green, pink, orange, blue and red – clearly meant to evoke everyone from their world.
The note, on thick, cream-colored card stock, is in a somewhat wobbly, but earnest hand:]
The note, on thick, cream-colored card stock, is in a somewhat wobbly, but earnest hand:]
Nami -
I’m giving this in the hopes that this place isn’t like the village, and that spring is going to come again, eventually. Spring and maybe summer, if we’re lucky. I feel sort of bad to think about this place being somewhere I want to stay, especially since it’s caused so much pain to people I love – especially you. Especially recently.
But I’m selfish, Nami. I’m a selfish, needy, greedy person, because I don’t want to give any of this up. I don’t want to go back to a world where we’re enemies, or where we don’t know each other. I want to wake up from a bad dream and know that you’re just a few doors down, if I need you. I want to stay up too late painting your nails and listening to you complain about the latest dumb thing the boys have done. I want you to boss me around at work and make fun of me when I cry for stupid reasons and I want that forever and ever and ever.
And if I can’t have that forever, I want it right now, as much as I can. So there’s nothing you could ever do or say or be that’s going to make me not want to be close to you. Nothing at all, Nami. I promise.
I know you heard me when I said it, but I love you. Now you have it in writing, forever.
Merry Christmas.
-Koby
( in the wee hours of the morning on christmas day, wally leaves a small giftbox wrapped in appropriately-themed paper containing a glass tangerine ornament, alongside an unwrapped bonsai orange tree. a tag hangs from one of the branches indicating TO: NAMI, FROM: WALLY. tucked under the ribbon adorning the box is an envelope addressed to nami with a bonsai care guide booklet inside and a card that reads: )
Nami —
A little birdy (sealy?) told me you like tangerines, so — just a couple things to brighten up your room. Remind you of home. I know we could all use a few reminders this time of year.
I got a basic care guide for you, too, since I wouldn't know the first thing about bonsai. I hear they can be tricky. But if you can handle a bunch of pirates, you can handle anything.
Merry Christmas!
— Wally
[ One afternoon, Astarion turns up at Dead Men Tell No Tales with a prettily-wrapped little box and a bunch of flowers, asking for Nami. When she appears, he hands both over with a visible sort of relief. Courtesy of your blue-braided friend, he says, curtailing any idea that he might be attempting to court or cozy up to the pirate of his own accord.
Inside the box is a bottle shaped like an orange slice, containing an appropriately citrus-y scent — as requested by its actual gifter. ]
Inside the box is a bottle shaped like an orange slice, containing an appropriately citrus-y scent — as requested by its actual gifter. ]
I assume Vander hasn't shown up for his shift.
[ Not really a question, not really a statement. Maybe he's just looking for confirmation. ]
[ Not really a question, not really a statement. Maybe he's just looking for confirmation. ]
( it's like a blip on a radar suddenly vanishes, replaced only by an uneasy emptiness knowing zoro's familiar green presence is somewhere far beyond shanks' reach now. home, they can all hope. with luffy and usopp. but none of them can be entirely certain. (can't be certain they won't return to the village instead.)
so whenever it is that he feels that absence — whether morning, noon, or the dead of night — his first thought is nami. regardless of how she feels about him at this particular moment, she deserves to know before panic sets in. he'll check in with the others later, or let koby handle it. shanks owes this to her. he owes her a lot of things. )
Zoro's presence is gone.
Back to the Merry, I hope.
( a slight delay, dots blinking intermittently, like he's unsure if he's even allowed to ask: )
Will you be alright?
so whenever it is that he feels that absence — whether morning, noon, or the dead of night — his first thought is nami. regardless of how she feels about him at this particular moment, she deserves to know before panic sets in. he'll check in with the others later, or let koby handle it. shanks owes this to her. he owes her a lot of things. )
Zoro's presence is gone.
Back to the Merry, I hope.
( a slight delay, dots blinking intermittently, like he's unsure if he's even allowed to ask: )
Will you be alright?
[koby feels it one after another -- the absence of that soft, mossygreen light in his consciousness, stoic and solemn and steady, and the ripple of agony through tangerineorange when nami finds out. his head aches, his back singed and bandaged up, but some things are more important.
the bleed of blushing pink, reaching out, aching, sorrowful, accompanies the message:]
Nami, I'm sorry.
I'm so, so, sorry.
Where are you? [he knows, of course he already knows, he means will you let me come see you?]
the bleed of blushing pink, reaching out, aching, sorrowful, accompanies the message:]
Nami, I'm sorry.
I'm so, so, sorry.
Where are you? [he knows, of course he already knows, he means will you let me come see you?]
[ he takes his time with the tray, knowing nami won’t have an appetite, won’t even want to think about eating, so he has to make it extra special, extra appealing, extra… just extra. extra good, to make up for all the ways he’s failed, lately. savory quiches and chocolate scones. raspberry rose cream tea, and chamomile lemon for later, when she wants to sleep. a circular arrangement of finger sandwiches, for anyone else annoying enough to show up. he sets out little pots of clotted cream, sugar and honey, freshly polished utensils and linen napkins, neatly folded. it’s perfect, if it was a normal day, and he was asking nami to spend the afternoon with him on the lawn for a romantic tea party.
he stabs his cigarette into the overfull ashtray and lights another, huffing out a cloud of smoke. there’s no wasting all this food, so he covers the tray and hoists it up with one hand. somebody will eat it. and if nobody does, then sanji will eat it. he has no preference, and he only has to take into account what nami likes now, even if he knows all of zoro’s favorite recipes and could make them in his sleep.
it’s only because he’s holding the food that he doesn’t stop to kick the wall, his eyes flinty and his mouth hard. his trek to nami’s room is silent, passing by in a trail of smoke, and he pauses outside of her door for a brief moment so that when he turns the knob and lets himself in, there’s a gentle expression on his face. ]
Nami. I brought you a few things. [ he busies himself setting out the gleaming tray, turning over one warmed teacup to pour out the steaming pink liquid, sweetening it with sugar the way she likes it. with a quiet clink, he sets the saucer and cup at her bedside, then notices there’s already tea there. some shitty kind that he recognizes from shanks. he bristles. ] There’s food, for when you get hungry.
[ she’s a miserable lump on the bed, sanji’s chest tightening at the sight, and when he leans down to tug the covers down and brush her hair from her eyes, they’re red from crying. ]
I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I had to… [ he had to what? yell at koby? fetch zoro’s stupid sword that he’d left on his bed that he’d never, ever find? play back every moment in the snow a hundred times over that caused zoro to leave them both? his eyes prickle hotly, and he takes a deep drag of his cigarette and sits on the bed. ] I’m sorry. I’ll close the restaurant tomorrow. I don’t know where Jinx is.
he stabs his cigarette into the overfull ashtray and lights another, huffing out a cloud of smoke. there’s no wasting all this food, so he covers the tray and hoists it up with one hand. somebody will eat it. and if nobody does, then sanji will eat it. he has no preference, and he only has to take into account what nami likes now, even if he knows all of zoro’s favorite recipes and could make them in his sleep.
it’s only because he’s holding the food that he doesn’t stop to kick the wall, his eyes flinty and his mouth hard. his trek to nami’s room is silent, passing by in a trail of smoke, and he pauses outside of her door for a brief moment so that when he turns the knob and lets himself in, there’s a gentle expression on his face. ]
Nami. I brought you a few things. [ he busies himself setting out the gleaming tray, turning over one warmed teacup to pour out the steaming pink liquid, sweetening it with sugar the way she likes it. with a quiet clink, he sets the saucer and cup at her bedside, then notices there’s already tea there. some shitty kind that he recognizes from shanks. he bristles. ] There’s food, for when you get hungry.
[ she’s a miserable lump on the bed, sanji’s chest tightening at the sight, and when he leans down to tug the covers down and brush her hair from her eyes, they’re red from crying. ]
I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I had to… [ he had to what? yell at koby? fetch zoro’s stupid sword that he’d left on his bed that he’d never, ever find? play back every moment in the snow a hundred times over that caused zoro to leave them both? his eyes prickle hotly, and he takes a deep drag of his cigarette and sits on the bed. ] I’m sorry. I’ll close the restaurant tomorrow. I don’t know where Jinx is.
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