(no subject)

Date: 2024-04-02 01:39 am (UTC)
kobes: ([:(] high standards)
From: [personal profile] kobes
[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.

(no subject)

Date: 2024-04-24 01:35 am (UTC)
kobes: ([:|] that's a terrible idea)
From: [personal profile] kobes
[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.]