i can't let a woman be my bodyguard. it's my job to protect you.
[ zoro would hate him sm for saying this. ]
i'll see you soon.
[ he's already out by the lake, an array of pots and kitchen utensils set up neatly around him. his slate board has a half-gutted fish resting upon it, surrounded by a few gleaming knives, but none of them as good as the one bee had stolen. a fire burns a few feet away, several fish and roughly chopped vegetables grilling atop planks of smoking wood while sanji dips a spoon into a bowl of viscous red liquid, tasting his latest herb-infused batch of pig's blood. ]
( 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. )
[ it's just as jarring seeing her now as it was the first time, though for wholly different reasons. he can't count how many eyes she has to his one, but all of them steadfastly refuse to look at him. ]
Princess. [ he wipes his hands on his apron and looks down at the little patterned kerchief, feeling very much like a tree next to a dandelion weed. is this what zeff felt like? no wonder he'd been kicked in the head so many times. ] Are you gonna look at me? It's bad manners not to.
[ it also stings at his insecurities, makes him feel a little more like a toy with his button eye ripped out, even if bee can't possibly mean it like that. casually, he takes his knife back, unwrapping it from the fabric and slipping it into his apron pocket. then he looks at the handkerchief, fingering the little antlered rabbit. the corner of his mouth curves up into a smile. ]
You're wet. Go sit by the fire. [ he slips the handkerchief under his apron as he turns, tucking it safely into his pocket where fish guts can't reach it. ] I'm not taking care of a sick kid.
[ all things zeff parroted at him, before taking care of a sick kid (him). after a few moments sanji joins her by the fire, dropping a blanket over her shoulders where it sticks out because of her wings, but at least she's not exposed to the winter chill. he sits cross-legged beside her, setting out an empty plate. ]
Now watch.
[ he proceeds to plate her food for her, creating a little bed of vegetables, slicing her fish horizontally and leaning it upwards so it looks like a tiny tower, painting a colorful swirl of red blood along the side. when he's done, he inspects the plate from all angles before carefully placing it in front of her. ]
Serving someone their food is just as important as cooking it. You can't just throw something on the plate and give it to them. It's disrespectful to the food, and disrespectful to your customer. [ he pours a glass of blood and sets it beside the plate, then holds out a fork. ] Are you gonna steal this, too?
it is rude, she knows that. taking a seat by the fire, she decides to muster up courage enough to look him in the eyes, which is a process made of deep breaths, and closing off new parts of her, freshly opened. it's not that hard — sanji makes it easier because he's nice, which he proves with the blanket on her shoulders. a happy, almost trilling sound rumbles in her throat while she tucks in her shoulders, watching sanji while he works. he's very focused. when bee was younger, she used to sit in the kitchens at withywoods and watch the chefs knead bread and set it to rise — it reminds her of that, of happy memories, before her home was taken from her.
when sanji turns back to look at her, she instinctively looks away, but forces herself to bring up her gaze. she finds — it really isn't hard to make eye contact with sanji. he has nice, warm eyes, not too intense or too emotional like her father's. belatedly, she offers a smile, that seems misplaced on her face. )
I could hardly stab anyone with that. ( she accepts the fork, a little grumbly, and turns to the food. ) Isn't it hard to eat something that looks so pretty?
( it feels like she's never had a meal like this — though it isn't anything too fancy, just prepared in a way that really does seem fitting of a princess. carefully, she breaks off a corner, not letting the tower fall. with a decent bite, she chews happily, looking him again in the eyes once she swallows. )
You shouldn't stab anyone with anything you use in the kitchen. [ he gives her a sidelong look instead of the knock to the head zeff would have given him to drive the point home. ] These are your tools. These are how you make magic. They're for creating things. For helping people. Not for hurting them. You want to stab someone, go talk to Zoro and get a shitty knife from him.
[ sanji's traded plenty of animals, vegetables, and herbs to get a decent knife set here, and he'll be damned if this shitty kid steals anything else from him. but he also remembers shanks' words, and how vengeful the humans can be. he remembers how vengeful humans can be anywhere, long before he came here. ]
If you get caught stealing, someone's gonna kill you. Or worse.
[ he gets the feeling he doesn't have to explain what or worse means.
he looks at the lake, then fishes through his apron pocket and pulls out a slim cigarette, if he can really call something he made himself out of carefully selected herbs that. but he's tired of going without, and even as he speaks to bee, he's planning on sneaking into the human cities to filch a few packs. ]
You're not even good at it, so give it up. If I catch you again, I'm gonna dump you in the lake.
[ he lights up his smoke while bee eats, taking a long drag and expelling a minty breath of cold air. ]
( she makes a mental note to go talk to zoro, and get a shitty knife from him.
anyway — sanji is funny. he's kind of like a much older man in a younger man's body, grumbling about kids and lessons and the all-knowing parental eye. well, he doesn't know what a good liar bee is. fitzchivalry never knew about her exploration of the hidden passageways of withywoods, and he was her actual father. ( he did know, he just never told her. ) )
You didn't catch me. ( she kicks her feet girlishly, really digging in once her meals loses its structural integrity. bee isn't the kind of child disinterested in vegetables — she's been starved often enough that she eats it all without complaint, until her plate is clean. ) I caught me, and told you about it, as a respectable young lady should. Can I try that?
( apparently food has made her more comfortable around him, she shrugs out of the blanket, pressing her hand on sanji's knee and leaning over him, to reach for his cigarette. maybe it's like a pipe? not that her father ever smoked one. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
it's my job to protect you.
[ zoro would hate him sm for saying this. ]
i'll see you soon.
[ he's already out by the lake, an array of pots and kitchen utensils set up neatly around him. his slate board has a half-gutted fish resting upon it, surrounded by a few gleaming knives, but none of them as good as the one bee had stolen. a fire burns a few feet away, several fish and roughly chopped vegetables grilling atop planks of smoking wood while sanji dips a spoon into a bowl of viscous red liquid, tasting his latest herb-infused batch of pig's blood. ]
» action
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. )
no subject
Princess. [ he wipes his hands on his apron and looks down at the little patterned kerchief, feeling very much like a tree next to a dandelion weed. is this what zeff felt like? no wonder he'd been kicked in the head so many times. ] Are you gonna look at me? It's bad manners not to.
[ it also stings at his insecurities, makes him feel a little more like a toy with his button eye ripped out, even if bee can't possibly mean it like that. casually, he takes his knife back, unwrapping it from the fabric and slipping it into his apron pocket. then he looks at the handkerchief, fingering the little antlered rabbit. the corner of his mouth curves up into a smile. ]
You're wet. Go sit by the fire. [ he slips the handkerchief under his apron as he turns, tucking it safely into his pocket where fish guts can't reach it. ] I'm not taking care of a sick kid.
[ all things zeff parroted at him, before taking care of a sick kid (him). after a few moments sanji joins her by the fire, dropping a blanket over her shoulders where it sticks out because of her wings, but at least she's not exposed to the winter chill. he sits cross-legged beside her, setting out an empty plate. ]
Now watch.
[ he proceeds to plate her food for her, creating a little bed of vegetables, slicing her fish horizontally and leaning it upwards so it looks like a tiny tower, painting a colorful swirl of red blood along the side. when he's done, he inspects the plate from all angles before carefully placing it in front of her. ]
Serving someone their food is just as important as cooking it. You can't just throw something on the plate and give it to them. It's disrespectful to the food, and disrespectful to your customer. [ he pours a glass of blood and sets it beside the plate, then holds out a fork. ] Are you gonna steal this, too?
no subject
it is rude, she knows that. taking a seat by the fire, she decides to muster up courage enough to look him in the eyes, which is a process made of deep breaths, and closing off new parts of her, freshly opened. it's not that hard — sanji makes it easier because he's nice, which he proves with the blanket on her shoulders. a happy, almost trilling sound rumbles in her throat while she tucks in her shoulders, watching sanji while he works. he's very focused. when bee was younger, she used to sit in the kitchens at withywoods and watch the chefs knead bread and set it to rise — it reminds her of that, of happy memories, before her home was taken from her.
when sanji turns back to look at her, she instinctively looks away, but forces herself to bring up her gaze. she finds — it really isn't hard to make eye contact with sanji. he has nice, warm eyes, not too intense or too emotional like her father's. belatedly, she offers a smile, that seems misplaced on her face. )
I could hardly stab anyone with that. ( she accepts the fork, a little grumbly, and turns to the food. ) Isn't it hard to eat something that looks so pretty?
( it feels like she's never had a meal like this — though it isn't anything too fancy, just prepared in a way that really does seem fitting of a princess. carefully, she breaks off a corner, not letting the tower fall. with a decent bite, she chews happily, looking him again in the eyes once she swallows. )
I can learn to cook as good as you?
no subject
[ sanji's traded plenty of animals, vegetables, and herbs to get a decent knife set here, and he'll be damned if this shitty kid steals anything else from him. but he also remembers shanks' words, and how vengeful the humans can be. he remembers how vengeful humans can be anywhere, long before he came here. ]
If you get caught stealing, someone's gonna kill you. Or worse.
[ he gets the feeling he doesn't have to explain what or worse means.
he looks at the lake, then fishes through his apron pocket and pulls out a slim cigarette, if he can really call something he made himself out of carefully selected herbs that. but he's tired of going without, and even as he speaks to bee, he's planning on sneaking into the human cities to filch a few packs. ]
You're not even good at it, so give it up. If I catch you again, I'm gonna dump you in the lake.
[ he lights up his smoke while bee eats, taking a long drag and expelling a minty breath of cold air. ]
no subject
anyway — sanji is funny. he's kind of like a much older man in a younger man's body, grumbling about kids and lessons and the all-knowing parental eye. well, he doesn't know what a good liar bee is. fitzchivalry never knew about her exploration of the hidden passageways of withywoods, and he was her actual father. ( he did know, he just never told her. ) )
You didn't catch me. ( she kicks her feet girlishly, really digging in once her meals loses its structural integrity. bee isn't the kind of child disinterested in vegetables — she's been starved often enough that she eats it all without complaint, until her plate is clean. ) I caught me, and told you about it, as a respectable young lady should. Can I try that?
( apparently food has made her more comfortable around him, she shrugs out of the blanket, pressing her hand on sanji's knee and leaning over him, to reach for his cigarette. maybe it's like a pipe? not that her father ever smoked one. )