[Ah, yeah, that look. He's just going to keep getting that here, and by now he's used to it. He stoops a little to shake her hand.]
Rosinante. Nice to meet you, Clara. And like I think I said, I'm glad someone else got to thinking we'd better get organized. What do you do back home?
[So many of these people he's met are military that now he's wondering if he should assume it as a likely default. Was she in requisitions? Some sort of logistics officer? That kind of support is honestly sorely needed around here.]
I've finished with your explosives. You'll have two stun grenades, two bottle bombs, three smoke bombs, and one shrapnel bomb.
[He rolled super well on his tinkering checks, that's why.]
Also, your gun should be able to hold four more bullets now, and I've managed to reduce the recoil when it fires. It's still not very light, though, I wasn't quite able to work that out in time.
[Daisy unintentionally put this off longer than she should have, but she finally finds herself at Rosi's door. Their last interaction had been a little fuzzy, but she remembers enough of it. Exhaling slowly, she finally knocks on the door and waits for an answer.]
[Rosinante's latest reading material is some very introductory information on space and stars and planets. The reading level may be well below him but the ideas and photos are worth it. He's no physicist or astronomer so honestly a kid's understanding of the black void out around them is good enough to get him started.
He's deep into looking at photos of Jupiter, in fact, when he hears the knock, so he sets the book face-down on the bed as he gets up and goes to open the door.
And raises an eyebrow at who it is, but then again, who would he be expecting? It's not like he gets visitors. The cigarette hangs from the corner of his mouth for a second before he pushes the door wider open and stuffs his hands in his pockets.]
[On the evening of the 24th, Clara leaves a wrapped box outside Rosi's door. His name is on the tag, so there's no question that it belongs to him.
Inside the box is a huge bag of sweets she's made, a couple different colored sticks of eyeliner, and a little patch where Clara's stitched on the words "best bodyguard ever".
There's also, of course, a little handwritten note.
Dearest Rosinante, Do you mind if I call you Rosi? It's the sort of thing friends do, and we are, aren't we? Friends?
I hope you enjoy the candies I've made, and you put the eyeliner to good use creating the most amazing looks. If you need help putting the patch on something, I've got a needle and thread and all the time in the world.
[There is a small box wrapped in ocean blue gift wrap paper. Inside Rosinante will find a silver lighter and a bottle of Braccia bourbon that the two shared together at the bar.
There is also a small note that reads:]
Please enjoy this on my behalf. Let us burn love seats and risotto together, as comrades.
While we'd been doing a bit of shopping in Braccia I managed also to pick up this particular tie. Now it's not a bowtie but I thought it would suit you, and it's still just as cool. And look! Buttons! Who doesn’t like buttons, this ought to start you on a brilliant little collection.
Please know you've become a dear friend to me and if you ever need me, all you have to do is call. I'll be right along to help you as best I can. One day we'll sail the stars together.
Happy Christmas Rosinante! The Doctor
[ Enclosed in a single box with a big silver bow (where did he manage to pluck this from? Who knows, the Doctor has his ~ways) are two things: a lovely (and tasteful!) long, thin, shimmery tie in a very rich dark pink colour, and a simple but beautiful glass jar half filled with about twenty or so buttons of various colours, shapes, and sizes. ]
[ the week after christmas and before new year's is always a strange one, like the bermuda triangle of time where everything sort of feels stuck or in limbo. back home, for marta, it's the days where the christmas decorations still stay up, but maybe the lights aren't always turned on like they were every night before the 25th, where christmas music still played on the radio, but they were much fewer and farther between. here on the station, it feels a little like the long slog home from a night of partying — the festivities and cheers have died, so have the excuses to be merry. slowly the people here slide back into their "normal" lives... whatever that new normal might look like.
honestly it makes her feel a little restless.
it's the first holidays she hadn't spent with her family, the thought enough to pull her into a surely depressive spiral that would certainly not be aided by an idle mind, so she decides if she cannot be home right now, she'll bring as much of home here with her. (it's a much more sentimental thought than she'd normally have but... well what else are the holidays for!)
but that's why rosinante will find her the way that he does that day: straining up on a stack of books, trying her hardest to snag a long-since wilted sprig of mistletoe handing from the ceiling. ]
[Despite all that Christmas stuff being over, many of the decorations still linger around the station. Setting up is something people enjoy, but unsurprisingly, cleaning up afterward is less popular. Or maybe it's tradition to leave them up until well after the holiday itself, who knows. Rosinante isn't a neat freak or anything, but he's had enough run-ins with the decor (literally) and it's really starting to wear thin.
It's about the time he considers asking if he can just start taking things down for his own safety that he spots Marta on top of her stack of books, maybe trying to do some of that tear-down he's been hoping for. He clears his throat to make sure his approach has been noticed, as if the giant shadow looming down the hallway wasn't enough.]
Time to take it all down, huh? Want a hand?
[Since... he can get these a lot more easily than she can, surely. He already even has experience doing it by mistake.]
( ever since he's returned from the mission, ace has kind of been keeping to himself. it isn't that he really wants to, but he also can't help it. he thought that ignoring the problems would help, but as it turns out!! that didn't help at all!! and, instead, all he's gotten from his troubles is a lot of sleepless nights (which sucks because ace really, really likes sleeping) because he can't shut his brain off.
kind of ironic how fire's making him feel antsy and anxious.
after wandering the halls for a while, he finally veers off into the kitchen intent on having a late night drink and probably a snack. everywhere's been pretty quiet, most people sleeping or dealing with their own demons, so he's surprised to see someone moving around cooking.
or... attempting to, anyway.
he'd wanted to be alone, but now he's thinking maybe some company — or at the very least, some extra noise — will help. so, he comes over closer, but (hopefully) not close enough to be in the way and hops up to sit on the counter, immediately beginning to peel a tangerine. )
[Rosinante glances over briefly, decides the face is familiar but not one he's sure he can put a name to, then continues frowning at his frying pan. One problem is immediately obvious - there are oil splatters around the stove, on his shirt, and a few bright red spots on his hands that are probably the result of the same.
Another problem is that he is absolutely trying his hardest to scrape his spatula under some rice that looks very stuck to the pan.]
Always thought fried rice was easy. You put everything in and cook it together. But this stuff's like glue. I tried adding more oil...
[There are some things he's actually quite good at cooking, in his defense. But clearly this is not it. With the oil smoking like that, it's bound to get even worse any moment - in fact, hopefully it's just the rice that burns and not the rest of everything.]
Situation is we fucked up, but it was worth taking the risk. Dunno about the others but I trust you all will figure something out, you've proven you're good for it.
Get Law out first if you have to pick one. He'll be the most helpful at getting the rest of us out safely.
The guy in charge of the cells here, Ruvilor, he's one of the few who has access to our cells. He didn't take our weapons. If I had to guess, he's sympathetic to Sedorum, or at least opposed to this upcoming war. He might let you get away with things, but try not to compromise him, he's more useful in his position of command than in a jail cell with us.
( on one of the guard rounds, itachi will drop a parcel in the cell. food, water, nothing fancy but enough to live on for a day or two — longer if he's careful.
there will be another in a few days' time, and on and on. )
[It's always appreciated, even if Rosinante doesn't do much more than nod his acknowledgment. He recognizes Itachi even though they've never really sat down and had a conversation, but he doesn't want to strike up some kind of friendly chat if it means putting the guy at risk for being banned from coming by.
A week or so in, though, he's leaning back against the wall of his cell with his eyes closed, and cracks one eyelid open when he hears those now-familiar footsteps.]
Wouldn't say no to a cigarette if you happen across one.
[If they work out a rescue plan eventually, he'd prefer to be sharp, not irritable and burdened with a headache. But he'll make do if he has to.]
[The shout jars him from his contemplation of the situation he's landed himself in. His eyes snap open, and he peers out past the bars, though it's not like he sees anything other than the usual corridor.
That's Yamato's voice. So they're in here too?]
Yeah, over here. How'd you wind up in here?
[He calls back but like, in a normal enough volume. No need to make so much noise, goodness.]
[Clara seeks him out after they've been back a day or so. She's needed some time to nurse her wounded pride and hurt feelings, not to mention her physical injuries. The cuts and bruises to her face are already on their way to healing, but the dark bruises at her throat are still in the process of developing and turning colors.
She feels utterly spent as she trudges through the station, avoiding eye contact and conversation with others. Everything that's going on with Newt has definitely damaged her faith and trust in the others here. But her emotional attachment to Rosinante is what pulls her out of her room to find him.
When she finds him in the sunlight room, she doesn't say anything at first. She just makes eye contact for a moment, getting a good look at him. And then she's moving forward, silently wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. Everyone is going through a rough time right now. She's sure he needs the hug just as much as she does.]
[Clara has judged correctly. His own injuries remained relatively minor this time around, which is a refreshing break after the prior mission, and so he readily curls his arms around her in return and tugs her close.
After a quiet moment, he looks down at her and murmurs around his cigarette,]
You doing all right?
[Not that he expects any sort of glowing cheer after all that, but there are varying levels between "surviving" to "awful".]
[Sometime after the revelation of precursors — and Rosinante's unpleasant little pow wow with them — there comes a slow, soft static into his earpiece. It lingers oddly for a minute or two, but there's something oddly alive about it, like someone reaching out through the white noise of an uneasy breath.]
▓▓▓▒▓▓▓▒et this righ̵̨͔̮͕͎̀̃͝ͅt??? stu░░d b̸r̴▓a̴▓i̴n̵ ▒▒▒░▒▒▒░▒▒▒░hear me?
[See this is the sort of thing that makes him want to rip the earpiece out because what the fuck, but rather than caving to that reaction he waits. Thinks it through a moment first.]
I read you. Barely. Something's wrong with your earpiece.
[While mentally running through a list of possibilities. What the hell is that username?]
Just FYI, I'm in the Fable's underground hideaway. And safe, for the record. I talked my way into being admitted for consideration. Just wanted to let you know before anyone started sweating over there and busting holes in the ground.
But I'm in here now until they deem me safe to release back into the wild, just in case I'm a spy. So my ETA back to topside is be to be determined. TBD? Whatever the shorthand is these days.
[ yet another flyer ends up on every orber's door, evidently by the same culprit as last time, except now it's a more colorful display:
the back of the flyer features more details about the play and its characters, and soon enough, an announcement from rita herself goes public, giving more context about the event, which all can sign up for. ]
The infirmary's feeling a bit more empty these days, don't you think?
[She has no idea how to approach the fact that both Leonard and Law are now gone. She knows the loss of someone close to Rosi has to hurt, and doesn't want to make light out of it, but also doesn't want to force him to talk feelings if he's not ready yet.]
[There's a couple minutes of nothing before he finally replies. It's easy to ignore messages right now, but he's glad to hear from Clara. She's always been a comfort to him.
He deletes a few attempts at responses before deciding on something.]
Better pack some gauze and antiseptic in everyone's kits. Guess that'll have to be enough to tie people back together with our surgeons gone.
Sorry, that's too deadpan to be funny. I don't know what to do, Clara.
I'm going to go back home! So don't worry, I'll look after Trafalgar Law as long as he's in Wano. I'm going to help them fight my father, and liberate the country of Wano. I will see Luffy bring about a new dawn for the world, I swear!
I believe it will all be fine. The future that Kozuki Oden prophesied will come true. I've waited for it for twenty years... I can't be here when it happens.
I hope you achieve whatever you came here to do! And maybe one day we'll meet again, even if we don't remember each other.
[By the time he finds this it's surely too late to say anything. He reads it over once, then again, and then goes by where Yamato was staying, just in case - but they've already gone.
People have their own wishes, their own reasons for agreeing to all this and then deciding to head home after all. He's just glad Yamato thought to let him know before calling the deal off officially - and glad, too, that wherever they are now, there are more people back home fighting to make their world a better place.
He heads back to his room and tucks the note between some of Law's books on the desk.]
[Finn walks up to the box, squinting down into it thoughtfully. Apparently, gift giving was the custom around here. A human custom, as far as Finn could tell. The thought gives him a weird fluttering in his stomach as he focuses on one of the new people he's met -- human or not -- racking his brain for what they might want...]
I dunno, Rosie's kinda too mysterious for gift giving. But I get the feeling this guy misses home. Maybe something that makes him feel like he's back at the beach?
Later...
[This month's supply drop has arrived and with it, a little something special for Rosinante. He'll see a box wrapped in dark green paper, a thin red bow, and a small glittery gold tag with 'From Finn' printed on it. The wrapping job is too neat to be from Finn himself, clearly created by the ship's replicator based on his gift request.
[The box Clayton leaves on Rosinante's doorstep is wrapped in fanciful paper, and beneath that, a picture of a nice model raft is printed on the front of it, but the contents within are all disassembled. This is apparently a kit. Thankfully it also comes with some simple tools and picture instructions, along with a handwritten note, just about legible.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[Stargirl? How did he -
Oh right, the usernames. She has to really tip her head back to look him in the eye. But she does so with a smile.
Oh my stars, he's incredibly tall.]
Clara's my actual name. Clara Oswald.
[She extends her arm for a handshake, still staring right on up at him. Seriously, he's so tall and she's so...not.]
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Rosinante. Nice to meet you, Clara. And like I think I said, I'm glad someone else got to thinking we'd better get organized. What do you do back home?
[So many of these people he's met are military that now he's wondering if he should assume it as a likely default. Was she in requisitions? Some sort of logistics officer? That kind of support is honestly sorely needed around here.]
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text; un: p.derolo; probably hours pre-mission
[He rolled super well on his tinkering checks, that's why.]
Also, your gun should be able to hold four more bullets now, and I've managed to reduce the recoil when it fires. It's still not very light, though, I wasn't quite able to work that out in time.
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I'll swing by the lab in a few minutes if that works for you.
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un: blue
Were you injured?
After being ejected from the dream.
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Thanks for what you did back there.
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A few days after returning from the mission
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He's deep into looking at photos of Jupiter, in fact, when he hears the knock, so he sets the book face-down on the bed as he gets up and goes to open the door.
And raises an eyebrow at who it is, but then again, who would he be expecting? It's not like he gets visitors. The cigarette hangs from the corner of his mouth for a second before he pushes the door wider open and stuffs his hands in his pockets.]
Hey. You all recovered from that dream stuff?
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[video]
special delivery
Inside the box is a huge bag of sweets she's made, a couple different colored sticks of eyeliner, and a little patch where Clara's stitched on the words "best bodyguard ever".
There's also, of course, a little handwritten note.
Dearest Rosinante,
Do you mind if I call you Rosi? It's the sort of thing friends do, and we are, aren't we? Friends?
I hope you enjoy the candies I've made, and you put the eyeliner to good use creating the most amazing looks. If you need help putting the patch on something, I've got a needle and thread and all the time in the world.
- Clara]
XMas delivery from Hermann
There is also a small note that reads:]
Please enjoy this on my behalf. Let us burn love seats and risotto together, as comrades.
– Dr. Hermann Gottlieb
XMAS — delivery ;
Please know you've become a dear friend to me and if you ever need me, all you have to do is call. I'll be right along to help you as best I can. One day we'll sail the stars together.
Happy Christmas Rosinante!
The Doctor
[ Enclosed in a single box with a big silver bow (where did he manage to pluck this from? Who knows, the Doctor has his ~ways) are two things: a lovely (and tasteful!) long, thin, shimmery tie in a very rich dark pink colour, and a simple but beautiful glass jar half filled with about twenty or so buttons of various colours, shapes, and sizes. ]
action | december 31st
honestly it makes her feel a little restless.
it's the first holidays she hadn't spent with her family, the thought enough to pull her into a surely depressive spiral that would certainly not be aided by an idle mind, so she decides if she cannot be home right now, she'll bring as much of home here with her. (it's a much more sentimental thought than she'd normally have but... well what else are the holidays for!)
but that's why rosinante will find her the way that he does that day: straining up on a stack of books, trying her hardest to snag a long-since wilted sprig of mistletoe handing from the ceiling. ]
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It's about the time he considers asking if he can just start taking things down for his own safety that he spots Marta on top of her stack of books, maybe trying to do some of that tear-down he's been hoping for. He clears his throat to make sure his approach has been noticed, as if the giant shadow looming down the hallway wasn't enough.]
Time to take it all down, huh? Want a hand?
[Since... he can get these a lot more easily than she can, surely. He already even has experience doing it by mistake.]
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late nite kitchen rendezvous
kind of ironic how fire's making him feel antsy and anxious.
after wandering the halls for a while, he finally veers off into the kitchen intent on having a late night drink and probably a snack. everywhere's been pretty quiet, most people sleeping or dealing with their own demons, so he's surprised to see someone moving around cooking.
or... attempting to, anyway.
he'd wanted to be alone, but now he's thinking maybe some company — or at the very least, some extra noise — will help. so, he comes over closer, but (hopefully) not close enough to be in the way and hops up to sit on the counter, immediately beginning to peel a tangerine. )
Smells like you're having some trouble.
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[Rosinante glances over briefly, decides the face is familiar but not one he's sure he can put a name to, then continues frowning at his frying pan. One problem is immediately obvious - there are oil splatters around the stove, on his shirt, and a few bright red spots on his hands that are probably the result of the same.
Another problem is that he is absolutely trying his hardest to scrape his spatula under some rice that looks very stuck to the pan.]
Always thought fried rice was easy. You put everything in and cook it together. But this stuff's like glue. I tried adding more oil...
[There are some things he's actually quite good at cooking, in his defense. But clearly this is not it. With the oil smoking like that, it's bound to get even worse any moment - in fact, hopefully it's just the rice that burns and not the rest of everything.]
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text; un: s.wilson
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Get Law out first if you have to pick one. He'll be the most helpful at getting the rest of us out safely.
The guy in charge of the cells here, Ruvilor, he's one of the few who has access to our cells. He didn't take our weapons. If I had to guess, he's sympathetic to Sedorum, or at least opposed to this upcoming war. He might let you get away with things, but try not to compromise him, he's more useful in his position of command than in a jail cell with us.
delivery;
there will be another in a few days' time, and on and on. )
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A week or so in, though, he's leaning back against the wall of his cell with his eyes closed, and cracks one eyelid open when he hears those now-familiar footsteps.]
Wouldn't say no to a cigarette if you happen across one.
[If they work out a rescue plan eventually, he'd prefer to be sharp, not irritable and burdened with a headache. But he'll make do if he has to.]
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how are you doing?
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voice. like, ACTUAL VOICE not over the network; dungeon times ahoy
no. instead, they yell as loud as they can, down the hallway leading further into the dungeon: ]
HEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYY!! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME??
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That's Yamato's voice. So they're in here too?]
Yeah, over here. How'd you wind up in here?
[He calls back but like, in a normal enough volume. No need to make so much noise, goodness.]
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brain-text ; un: doctor.disco ( post-mission on the steamhallow express )
do you read me daddy long legs
[ this'll be totes important. pinky-swear and all. ]
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the worst part is the "daddy" actually and he almost just ignores this completely, but]
Sure. But do me a favor and never call me that again.
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action
She feels utterly spent as she trudges through the station, avoiding eye contact and conversation with others. Everything that's going on with Newt has definitely damaged her faith and trust in the others here. But her emotional attachment to Rosinante is what pulls her out of her room to find him.
When she finds him in the sunlight room, she doesn't say anything at first. She just makes eye contact for a moment, getting a good look at him. And then she's moving forward, silently wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. Everyone is going through a rough time right now. She's sure he needs the hug just as much as she does.]
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After a quiet moment, he looks down at her and murmurs around his cigarette,]
You doing all right?
[Not that he expects any sort of glowing cheer after all that, but there are varying levels between "surviving" to "awful".]
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text | ̸̼̒ũ̵̹n̷̥̎:̷̺͘ ̷̠͝ň̶͙e̶͍̿w̴̫͂t̴̙͐
▓▓▓▒▓▓▓▒et this righ̵̨͔̮͕͎̀̃͝ͅt???
stu░░d b̸r̴▓a̴▓i̴n̵
▒▒▒░▒▒▒░▒▒▒░hear me?
▒o░si?
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I read you. Barely. Something's wrong with your earpiece.
[While mentally running through a list of possibilities. What the hell is that username?]
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Text | un: stardust
And safe, for the record. I talked my way into being admitted for consideration.
Just wanted to let you know before anyone started sweating over there and busting holes in the ground.
But I'm in here now until they deem me safe to release back into the wild, just in case I'm a spy. So my ETA back to topside is be to be determined. TBD? Whatever the shorthand is these days.
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Do you know how far you walked from your entry point before you reached their hideaway?
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the orber can choose to attend or simply listen in to the meeting when it occurs, or they may ignore it altogether. ]
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the back of the flyer features more details about the play and its characters, and soon enough, an announcement from rita herself goes public, giving more context about the event, which all can sign up for. ]
text; un: stargirl
[She has no idea how to approach the fact that both Leonard and Law are now gone. She knows the loss of someone close to Rosi has to hurt, and doesn't want to make light out of it, but also doesn't want to force him to talk feelings if he's not ready yet.]
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He deletes a few attempts at responses before deciding on something.]
Better pack some gauze and antiseptic in everyone's kits. Guess that'll have to be enough to tie people back together with our surgeons gone.
Sorry, that's too deadpan to be funny. I don't know what to do, Clara.
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a hand-written note after forsythe heights
I'm going to go back home! So don't worry, I'll look after Trafalgar Law as long as he's in Wano. I'm going to help them fight my father, and liberate the country of Wano. I will see Luffy bring about a new dawn for the world, I swear!
I believe it will all be fine. The future that Kozuki Oden prophesied will come true. I've waited for it for twenty years... I can't be here when it happens.
I hope you achieve whatever you came here to do! And maybe one day we'll meet again, even if we don't remember each other.
ヤマト
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People have their own wishes, their own reasons for agreeing to all this and then deciding to head home after all. He's just glad Yamato thought to let him know before calling the deal off officially - and glad, too, that wherever they are now, there are more people back home fighting to make their world a better place.
He heads back to his room and tucks the note between some of Law's books on the desk.]
action (kinda);
I dunno, Rosie's kinda too mysterious for gift giving. But I get the feeling this guy misses home. Maybe something that makes him feel like he's back at the beach?
Later...
[This month's supply drop has arrived and with it, a little something special for Rosinante. He'll see a box wrapped in dark green paper, a thin red bow, and a small glittery gold tag with 'From Finn' printed on it. The wrapping job is too neat to be from Finn himself, clearly created by the ship's replicator based on his gift request.
Inside the box, he will find a very cool shirt and matching very cool necklace. It's like the beach is right there!]
[ present ]
To build when the ocean is far away.
--Clayton