( bee's wardrobe has had to make some considerable changes since her transformation. she's tried, through her connection with shanks, to make the number of eyes on her skin something reasonable — two, ideally, but even a couple more wouldn't be awful — but without them she's in so much excruciating pain it isn't even worth it. so. she arrives with an overlarge shirt on her shoulders ( most shirts are overlarge on bee ), holes cut jaggedly in the back to give her wings room to stretch out. underneath the stretched collar of her shirt are the visible corners of a few eyes, although most stay hidden under her clothes, unbothered by the loose material. on either side of her head, nestled in her unruly white curls there sits a small wing, blending into the alabaster white of her dandelion fluff head.
most notably, is her face — three eyes where once there were two, and the odd glow like a halo coming from behind her head. she is, very impressively, scrubbed pink and clean, the very tips of her feathered wings still dripping water from her quick head dunk in water.
it's easier to see the way bee avoids eye contact, considering how many eyes she's now in ownership of. she stares at sanji's knees instead of his face when she approaches, taking out a bundle from her back pocket. )
Hello, Mister Sanji.
( she holds it out, not looking at him — his special fish knife wrapped in a handkerchief she embroidered with a little antlered bunny pattern in the corner. it smells a little like honeysuckle. once she almost gave a gift like this to a man who was very nice to her, but he died before she could put it in his hands. )
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most notably, is her face — three eyes where once there were two, and the odd glow like a halo coming from behind her head. she is, very impressively, scrubbed pink and clean, the very tips of her feathered wings still dripping water from her quick head dunk in water.
it's easier to see the way bee avoids eye contact, considering how many eyes she's now in ownership of. she stares at sanji's knees instead of his face when she approaches, taking out a bundle from her back pocket. )
Hello, Mister Sanji.
( she holds it out, not looking at him — his special fish knife wrapped in a handkerchief she embroidered with a little antlered bunny pattern in the corner. it smells a little like honeysuckle. once she almost gave a gift like this to a man who was very nice to her, but he died before she could put it in his hands. )