( whether it's to the notion that cats are good at fishing (which he probably is — considering all of the other embarrassing things that cats do have ended up being true for him, too) or the notion that koby's taking care of himself is anyone's guess. while he hasn't known him long, even back in their world, he seems altruistic to a fault, always ready to do the right thing even to his own detriment, which is probably why luffy likes him. nami, getting berry to free coco village. sanji, starving himself here so zoro can live. koby would fit right in as a strawhat.
he lets the matter drop for now, shifting his interest back to his fish, pulling a bone out of his piece and chewing as he notices koby's pelt kind of ... moving of its own accord. or maybe it's just gravity. or a trick of the firelight from the hearth. it's soft where it touches his leg, and there's a small part of zoro that wants to reach out and pet it.
— nah, that would be rude, probably. he'd get pissed if someone started petting his ears or threading his tail through their fingers (even if he'd probably also start purring, but that's besides the point). instead, he just scrunches his nose, looking back up at koby. ) Are you, uh — still sleeping at the cottage?
( their cottage, rather. better to tiptoe around the matter a little, even if zoro is genuinely curious. )
[One remains to be seen, the other -- well. Koby would argue that his continued existence is proof enough that he's capable of caring for himself, neverminding the fact that there's a significant gap between "cared for" and "existing". He's still strong enough to provide, in some way, for those remaining that he has an attachment to. Some of it's Luffy's lingering influence, like a ghost in every encounter Koby has with his crew, echoing in the background with that bittersweet, persistent reminder that the three of them have nothing in common with Koby except for their attachment to the absent captain.
And some of it -- isn't. If something happened to the Strawhats (when it happens, Koby corrects himself, eyes flickering to the still-visible signs of Zoro's encounter with the dismembering carnival), the grief and concern wouldn't solely be because they matter to Luffy. They matter to Koby too. So he wants to contribute, in any way he can -- which right now is fishing. Lots and lots of fishing.
The sealskin puddles a little more firmly against Zoro's leg, and Koby absently reaches out to gather it back onto his lap. It's an extension of him, an echo of everything he is, but it's also a product of the strange, witchy magic around them, and therefore it does what it pleases. Like now, slipping like quicksilver through Koby's fingers and draping over the twitching tip of Zoro's tail. Frowning, blushing, Koby scoops the skin up and holds it firmly against his chest.] Sorry.
[And then -- that question, sending Koby's stomach twisting and his throat aching with old tears. He doesn't want to think about it, so he doesn't, even as it throbs in his chest like an open wound. Loss is something he's accustomed to, easier than affection in the long run, easier to adjust somewhere inside his ribs, a living, clawing thing. He looks down and away, draws a shuddering breath.] No. [Thick, tight.] I -- sleep in the river, usually. [He hasn't been back to the cottage. He doesn't think he ever will.] As -- a seal, obviously. I'm not stupid.
( it was probably a stupid question considering what zoro now feels like is an obvious answer. he frowns as he chews, trying to do the polite thing and not stare at koby while he seemingly struggles with each word. it's — hard, though. his own feelings about mihawk being gone are complicated enough, still rapidly shuffling through being pissed off that he left them without saying anything, sad or disappointed or whatever the fuck that he lost his mentor. for koby, though ...
it's way bigger than that. he thinks about how he would be if the shithead cook disappeared — thinks about how he would probably rip trees out of the ground with his bare hands trying to find him, to fill the kitchen with the sounds of food cooking in the kitchen and the smell of clove cigarettes again. and nami — he can't even think about losing her without his chest aching, pulse racing, souls tied intrinsically together by their connection. wherever she is, she might feel him tug on it a little, even, just to calm himself down.
yeah. it was a stupid fucking question. but also — ) It sounds pretty stupid to me. ( he says it in his blasé sort of way, nonchalant about it even if the thought of the little pink seal freezing in the river also sends a little pang of worry through him. huh. it's weird having friends. )
There are plenty of other warm places to stay. ( for example: the castle. also implied: here. ) At least until it gets warm out again.
( zoro's been mostly ignoring the sealskin that keeps sliding seemingly wherever it pleases — save for the flick of his tail beneath it before koby steals it back, gathering it up in his arms. it's a changeling thing, he thinks — a kind of mutual understanding. it'd be rude to point out zoro purring. it'd be rude to gawk at the soft fur beneath sanji's navel when he reaches up into a cabinet for something and his shirt comes untucked (hypothetically). it'd be rude to comment on koby's ... pelt. his nose wrinkles, though, and he sets his empty plate to the side, pointing at the silky smooth fur in koby's grasp. ) What's it trying to do?
( rude, maybe, but changing the subject seems more important. )
[He's good at loss. Koby thinks about rowing away from a burning ship, about standing on a dock, in a deserted street, in a tangerine grove. He thinks about the home he'd had, however briefly, and then he puts it out of his mind, a jagged-edged thing he refuses to let himself dwell on any further. There's a comforting numbness in the act of that, of pulling on the skin, the Changeling, the animal who thinks about nothing but here and now.
Unfortunately Koby isn't an animal, not at his heart. He's a person, a person who has somehow ended up caring very, very much about the people in this house. The potential of their loss -- all at once, which would somehow be more bearable than one at a time, two left here alone, delirious with loss, missing the third like a limb -- hangs over Koby constantly, keeping him tethered to humanity like an anchor. He feels it now, watching to make sure Zoro finishes the plate, leaves only a smear of blood on the smooth surface.
There's a huff of a laugh at the flat summary of his actions, a nudge of the glasses back up Koby's nose.] I don't feel the cold. I'm less...scrawny as a seal. [He's fairly cylindrical, actually. Aerodynamic.
The pelt pools in his lap, satiny between Koby's fingers as he finally loosens his grip. There aren't any wrinkles, the fur smoothing out immediately, pink-spotted and luxurious.] It wants to be taken, I think? Something like that, I've been doing some reading on legends and things, and the whole point of a skin is to be taken and held by someone else. It's like a curse? You get to transform, but you're always being hunted and always at risk of being controlled. [The pelt slips over his knee again, thick-furred and gleaming in the lamplight.]
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(no subject)
Date: 2024-04-01 01:33 am (UTC)( whether it's to the notion that cats are good at fishing (which he probably is — considering all of the other embarrassing things that cats do have ended up being true for him, too) or the notion that koby's taking care of himself is anyone's guess. while he hasn't known him long, even back in their world, he seems altruistic to a fault, always ready to do the right thing even to his own detriment, which is probably why luffy likes him. nami, getting berry to free coco village. sanji, starving himself here so zoro can live. koby would fit right in as a strawhat.
he lets the matter drop for now, shifting his interest back to his fish, pulling a bone out of his piece and chewing as he notices koby's pelt kind of ... moving of its own accord. or maybe it's just gravity. or a trick of the firelight from the hearth. it's soft where it touches his leg, and there's a small part of zoro that wants to reach out and pet it.
— nah, that would be rude, probably. he'd get pissed if someone started petting his ears or threading his tail through their fingers (even if he'd probably also start purring, but that's besides the point). instead, he just scrunches his nose, looking back up at koby. ) Are you, uh — still sleeping at the cottage?
( their cottage, rather. better to tiptoe around the matter a little, even if zoro is genuinely curious. )
(no subject)
Date: 2024-04-02 01:39 am (UTC)And some of it -- isn't. If something happened to the Strawhats (when it happens, Koby corrects himself, eyes flickering to the still-visible signs of Zoro's encounter with the dismembering carnival), the grief and concern wouldn't solely be because they matter to Luffy. They matter to Koby too. So he wants to contribute, in any way he can -- which right now is fishing. Lots and lots of fishing.
The sealskin puddles a little more firmly against Zoro's leg, and Koby absently reaches out to gather it back onto his lap. It's an extension of him, an echo of everything he is, but it's also a product of the strange, witchy magic around them, and therefore it does what it pleases. Like now, slipping like quicksilver through Koby's fingers and draping over the twitching tip of Zoro's tail. Frowning, blushing, Koby scoops the skin up and holds it firmly against his chest.] Sorry.
[And then -- that question, sending Koby's stomach twisting and his throat aching with old tears. He doesn't want to think about it, so he doesn't, even as it throbs in his chest like an open wound. Loss is something he's accustomed to, easier than affection in the long run, easier to adjust somewhere inside his ribs, a living, clawing thing. He looks down and away, draws a shuddering breath.] No. [Thick, tight.] I -- sleep in the river, usually. [He hasn't been back to the cottage. He doesn't think he ever will.] As -- a seal, obviously. I'm not stupid.
(no subject)
Date: 2024-04-21 11:57 pm (UTC)it's way bigger than that. he thinks about how he would be if the shithead cook disappeared — thinks about how he would probably rip trees out of the ground with his bare hands trying to find him, to fill the kitchen with the sounds of food cooking in the kitchen and the smell of clove cigarettes again. and nami — he can't even think about losing her without his chest aching, pulse racing, souls tied intrinsically together by their connection. wherever she is, she might feel him tug on it a little, even, just to calm himself down.
yeah. it was a stupid fucking question. but also — ) It sounds pretty stupid to me. ( he says it in his blasé sort of way, nonchalant about it even if the thought of the little pink seal freezing in the river also sends a little pang of worry through him. huh. it's weird having friends. )
There are plenty of other warm places to stay. ( for example: the castle. also implied: here. ) At least until it gets warm out again.
( zoro's been mostly ignoring the sealskin that keeps sliding seemingly wherever it pleases — save for the flick of his tail beneath it before koby steals it back, gathering it up in his arms. it's a changeling thing, he thinks — a kind of mutual understanding. it'd be rude to point out zoro purring. it'd be rude to gawk at the soft fur beneath sanji's navel when he reaches up into a cabinet for something and his shirt comes untucked (hypothetically). it'd be rude to comment on koby's ... pelt. his nose wrinkles, though, and he sets his empty plate to the side, pointing at the silky smooth fur in koby's grasp. ) What's it trying to do?
( rude, maybe, but changing the subject seems more important. )
(no subject)
Date: 2024-04-24 01:35 am (UTC)Unfortunately Koby isn't an animal, not at his heart. He's a person, a person who has somehow ended up caring very, very much about the people in this house. The potential of their loss -- all at once, which would somehow be more bearable than one at a time, two left here alone, delirious with loss, missing the third like a limb -- hangs over Koby constantly, keeping him tethered to humanity like an anchor. He feels it now, watching to make sure Zoro finishes the plate, leaves only a smear of blood on the smooth surface.
There's a huff of a laugh at the flat summary of his actions, a nudge of the glasses back up Koby's nose.] I don't feel the cold. I'm less...scrawny as a seal. [He's fairly cylindrical, actually. Aerodynamic.
The pelt pools in his lap, satiny between Koby's fingers as he finally loosens his grip. There aren't any wrinkles, the fur smoothing out immediately, pink-spotted and luxurious.] It wants to be taken, I think? Something like that, I've been doing some reading on legends and things, and the whole point of a skin is to be taken and held by someone else. It's like a curse? You get to transform, but you're always being hunted and always at risk of being controlled. [The pelt slips over his knee again, thick-furred and gleaming in the lamplight.]