( for as uncertain and unsteady as koby's gaze is, shanks' is all the more certain and unwaveringly steady in the face of the decision he's given koby, the decision koby makes, definitively, with as much courage as he can muster. i don't care — and it surprises shanks, the indifference koby lays at alvida's feet. if he were in koby's position, would he have made the same choice? or would he have been more vengeful? perhaps it's simply naivety masquerading as apathy — or, perhaps, it's simply the truth: that koby doesn't care if alvida lives or dies as long as the nightmare ends, as long as he never has to see this ship again. shanks nods, once, his cool expression betraying nothing. )
Very well. ( he turns back to alvida, his expression expectant, as if he's waiting for her find some new way to insult koby. she just laughs, practically keeling over, despite the sword still pointed at her chest. shanks tips alvida's chin back up to look at him, his eyes dark. ) I'd say you owe Koby your life, Captain. ( though there's no courtesy, no respect behind the word, only the well-placed condescension of a man who has earned his rank more than a hundred times over. he sheaths gryphon, turning his attention to beck at his side, who simply says the men are ready when you are, boss. shanks nods, gesturing toward alvida. ) I suppose it's time we show the lady some mercy, eh, Beck? Maybe after all this she'll find it within herself to be kinder to her next crew.
( beck snorts, clearly disbelieving — either the fact that shanks will show mercy or the fact that alvida might ever change her tune — but he doesn't say anything in dissent, just passes the keys to alvida's shackles to shanks and nods for the other officers to follow him back to the red force. shanks kneels before alvida, a sharp smile cutting across his face, with no trace of the kindness he'd offered koby moments before. the air thickens with the same dark energy that eradicated her crew, only this time it feels more oppressive, harder to breathe, like a horrible storm cloud is brewing around him, like he is the eye of the hurricane and everything around him is collateral damage. the ship's railings crack, the masts creaking like they might snap at any moment. shanks stares alvida down, leaning in close to slowly unlock her shackles — and now, suddenly, she finds she has nothing to say, can only stare back at him with the same terror she put in koby's eyes. shanks lowers his voice in hopes koby won't hear, but it can't be helped what the wind might carry. )
Koby is under my protection now. You know what that means. If you ever try to touch him again, I'll cut your hands off. If you even dare speak to him, I'll slit your throat before you can beg me not to. If you so much as look at him, my face will be the last thing you see. Do I make myself clear, Captain?
( the shackles clatter to the deck and shanks stands, the swirling energy dissipating like a wisp of smoke. alvida's eyes burn with fury, but shanks' mere presence keeps her on her knees despite her efforts to push herself to her feet, to lunge toward him with nails as long and sharp as claws. )
Hongo! ( a member of shanks' crew falls back from the others, a blonde man a few inches shorter than shanks with a scar above his eyebrow. he jogs briskly over to join his captain, casually asking, what's up, boss? as if they're old friends catching up and not two pirates who have thoroughly decimated an entire crew. ) Take Koby to the infirmary. I want a full medical report by sundown. ( hongo nods, about to sidestep in koby's direction when shanks sets his hand on hongo's shoulder to give him further orders. ) And have Roux fix him something to eat, he looks like the next gust of wind might blow him away. ( a beat, then one more thing: ) See if Beck and Yasopp can draw him a bath, too. Use mine — I suspect he'll want his privacy — and check with Limejuice, see if he's got anything Koby can change into for the time being, at least until we make it to port.
( shanks releases hongo's shoulder and hongo replies with a quick you got it, boss before he's jogging over to koby with a mildly amused grin, gesturing to the mop still in koby's hands. )
Don't think you'll be needing that anymore, Koby. Come on, doctor's orders.
( hongo leads the way back to the red force with shanks following up the rear, just in case alvida tries anything once they're further away — and when they're halfway across the gangplank, alvida finally manages to push herself to her feet, struggling to the rail of her ship and using the last of her strength to growl, raw and vicious, her voice dripping with acid: )
He'll never be yours, Shanks. You think a mighty Emperor of the Sea can fix what's broken in him? You think he'll bend the knee to you? Even if you kill me, he'll always be mine. ( and then, with another cruel, hollow laugh: ) Remember what I told you, Koby! You're walking right into the lion's den, little pup, and he's going to eat you alive, pick you clean, and then pass you around his whole—
( the hiss of shanks' sword is swift and lethal, one stroke of his blade through the air silencing alvida before she can say another word, a storm of crackling energy barreling toward the the hull, the masts, and anything else in its path. shanks whips around, quickly sheathing his sword again, shouting — ) Go! Now!
( — before the miss love duck groans miserably, the gun decks seconds away from blowing. hongo, without missing a beat, springs into action, quickly apologizing as he scoops koby up and throws him over his shoulder, sprinting across the last stretch of gangplank and leaping onto the deck of the red force, where beck is already throwing shanks a line and barking orders at the crew to haul up the anchor and get the ship moving, now! none of them seem to question that shanks hasn't made it off the gangplank when the first explosion from the miss love duck rocks the hull — nor are they particularly surprised when shanks comes swinging out of the next series of explosions almost wholly unscathed aside from a few scrapes and missing half of his cape, landing in the middle of the deck with little fanfare, the rest of the crew simply carrying on as if this is a completely normal occurrence. he finds his way to where hongo is kneeling next to koby, offering them both an apologetic smile. )
Sorry about all the fuss. ( the fuss, as if that's what one calls casually blowing up an enemy pirate ship. then, to koby directly: ) You weren't injured, were you? ( which seems like a redundant question when the ship's doctor is right beside him, but it's important that shanks makes it clear that he doesn't usually put his guests in immediate danger in the process of rescuing them. ) Hongo will take care of you if you were.
[Almost as soon as he's said it (take me with you, how cliched, how ridiculous, a line from some sort of idiotic book he’d read growing up, where someone gets captured by pirates and spirited away from their home and is rescued by some Marine hunk with rippling pectorals), Koby is certain that he’s going to be laughed back into the hold, that the red-haired pirate’s magnanimity is going to run out and be replaced with the sort of cruelty he’s more accustomed to. Maybe this was all some big test, one he’s summarily failed, one that was supposed to see how loyal he truly was. Maybe Alvida and the red-haired pirate are working together, and the seemingly-dead crew is about to rise from the deck laughing and laughing and laughing, and Koby’s going to face punishment like he’s never experienced before.
The possibility of this (absurd and outlandish as it is) has him recoiling a little as the blond-haired pirate approaches, hands clinging to the mop so tightly they go white-knuckled, holding it between him and the man like it’ll – protect him, somehow. But he’s told to put it down, told to follow the stranger off the Miss Love Duck and onto the considerably more impressive ship alongside it, and somehow his trembling knees unlock enough to obey, to lift one foot, then the other, to walk over the bloodied deck he’s scrubbed on his hands and knees a thousand times and across the gangplank to – to what?
Alvida seems to know. She yells it, bloodied and crazed and crew-less, and Koby reacts like he’s accustomed to, eyes down, shoulders set, accepting the insults and threats like they don’t dig their way down, down into the very core of who he is, like they don’t snag there to ache alongside every other horrible thing she’s told him. Sometimes Alvida goes days without even acknowledging Koby’s existence, but her voice is always there, echoing in his ears, in every panicked beat of his heart as he pushes himself past the limit to keep her placated, as he works his fingers bloody again and again.
Even the content of the threats isn’t anything new – Alvida’s held that exact scenario over Koby’s head since that first day, since she found out exactly who (what) he was. There were no secrets on her ship, not from her, and when she found the bandages Koby’d grown accustomed to wrapping around and around his chest, when she demanded he show her exactly why he needed them – well. There were no secrets from Alvida. She’d made it very clear that if anyone else on the crew found out, she wouldn’t be able to hold them back. This was something just between the two of them, something nobody else would accept about him, something only she knew. It bled into threats, it echoed in the softer, sweeter words in her cabin, when there was almost a streak of perverse fondness in her hand on his hair, his chin, cupping it and clicking her tongue, shaking her head. It’s lucky you’re such a hard worker, Koby, Alvida would sigh, squeezing his face, forcing him to look at the smug, gloating smirk on her face. Because I’m not interested in the only other thing you’re good for. But maybe it’ll prove useful, later on, hm? You could help me bargain my way out of a hard spot.
That concept lodges in Koby’s mind now, the idea that maybe – maybe Alvida’s just bought her freedom, her triumph with him, like she always threatened, and his body threatens to seize up in panic, there on the deck, surrounded by a crew of pirates, of men with unclear motives, unclear desires. He’s about to turn, to scramble back and drop onto his knees in front of Alvida, to beg for forgiveness, because it couldn’t be worse than being alone on a ship of strangers, but – but then there’s an explosion that has him stumbling back into Hongo, grabbing at him instinctively, curling away from the familiar heat and scent of cannon fire.
Except. Except there’s no cannon. There’s just the ship crumbling, the crackling sound of something still resonant in the air, and Koby’s half-turned to look, to see what happened, but Hongo is – scooping him up before he can protest, before he can do anything but grab at his glasses to keep them from falling off his face as the crew of pirates springs into action, bounding off the creaking, groaning deck of the Miss Love Duck as the world itself seems to crack itself into pieces. Koby’s hands are up over his ears, eyes squeezed shut, and part of him realizes he’s been set down, because he scrambles backwards until his back hits something solid, some box or barrel. He wants to stay curled in on himself, hidden from the sight and sound of everything that’s happened in the last handful of moments, but not knowing what’s going on is worse.
So he looks up, just in time to see the captain – red-haired, smiling, still smiling, broad-shouldered and powerful and deadly – swing onto the deck like he hadn’t just killed an entire crew and it’s captain without exerting any effort whatsoever. He turns towards Koby, says – something, he doesn’t quite hear it because he’s jerking back against whatever he’s huddling beside, hard enough that his head smacks into the wood, making his ears ring.
But it registers, eventually, and Koby shakes his head hard, breath coming quick, quick as the birdlike race of his pulse, eyes flicking around from one member of the crew to another, always coming back to the captain, like a compass pulled north again and again. He’s dizzy with fear, with the mounting terror of the situation he’s gotten himself into, but beneath it there’s – curiosity, wonder, amazement at what this man had just done, the power he was capable. Swallowing hard, convulsively, he croaks out:] N-No, I’m. I’m f-fine, sir.
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Very well. ( he turns back to alvida, his expression expectant, as if he's waiting for her find some new way to insult koby. she just laughs, practically keeling over, despite the sword still pointed at her chest. shanks tips alvida's chin back up to look at him, his eyes dark. ) I'd say you owe Koby your life, Captain. ( though there's no courtesy, no respect behind the word, only the well-placed condescension of a man who has earned his rank more than a hundred times over. he sheaths gryphon, turning his attention to beck at his side, who simply says the men are ready when you are, boss. shanks nods, gesturing toward alvida. ) I suppose it's time we show the lady some mercy, eh, Beck? Maybe after all this she'll find it within herself to be kinder to her next crew.
( beck snorts, clearly disbelieving — either the fact that shanks will show mercy or the fact that alvida might ever change her tune — but he doesn't say anything in dissent, just passes the keys to alvida's shackles to shanks and nods for the other officers to follow him back to the red force. shanks kneels before alvida, a sharp smile cutting across his face, with no trace of the kindness he'd offered koby moments before. the air thickens with the same dark energy that eradicated her crew, only this time it feels more oppressive, harder to breathe, like a horrible storm cloud is brewing around him, like he is the eye of the hurricane and everything around him is collateral damage. the ship's railings crack, the masts creaking like they might snap at any moment. shanks stares alvida down, leaning in close to slowly unlock her shackles — and now, suddenly, she finds she has nothing to say, can only stare back at him with the same terror she put in koby's eyes. shanks lowers his voice in hopes koby won't hear, but it can't be helped what the wind might carry. )
Koby is under my protection now. You know what that means. If you ever try to touch him again, I'll cut your hands off. If you even dare speak to him, I'll slit your throat before you can beg me not to. If you so much as look at him, my face will be the last thing you see. Do I make myself clear, Captain?
( the shackles clatter to the deck and shanks stands, the swirling energy dissipating like a wisp of smoke. alvida's eyes burn with fury, but shanks' mere presence keeps her on her knees despite her efforts to push herself to her feet, to lunge toward him with nails as long and sharp as claws. )
Hongo! ( a member of shanks' crew falls back from the others, a blonde man a few inches shorter than shanks with a scar above his eyebrow. he jogs briskly over to join his captain, casually asking, what's up, boss? as if they're old friends catching up and not two pirates who have thoroughly decimated an entire crew. ) Take Koby to the infirmary. I want a full medical report by sundown. ( hongo nods, about to sidestep in koby's direction when shanks sets his hand on hongo's shoulder to give him further orders. ) And have Roux fix him something to eat, he looks like the next gust of wind might blow him away. ( a beat, then one more thing: ) See if Beck and Yasopp can draw him a bath, too. Use mine — I suspect he'll want his privacy — and check with Limejuice, see if he's got anything Koby can change into for the time being, at least until we make it to port.
( shanks releases hongo's shoulder and hongo replies with a quick you got it, boss before he's jogging over to koby with a mildly amused grin, gesturing to the mop still in koby's hands. )
Don't think you'll be needing that anymore, Koby. Come on, doctor's orders.
( hongo leads the way back to the red force with shanks following up the rear, just in case alvida tries anything once they're further away — and when they're halfway across the gangplank, alvida finally manages to push herself to her feet, struggling to the rail of her ship and using the last of her strength to growl, raw and vicious, her voice dripping with acid: )
He'll never be yours, Shanks. You think a mighty Emperor of the Sea can fix what's broken in him? You think he'll bend the knee to you? Even if you kill me, he'll always be mine. ( and then, with another cruel, hollow laugh: ) Remember what I told you, Koby! You're walking right into the lion's den, little pup, and he's going to eat you alive, pick you clean, and then pass you around his whole—
( the hiss of shanks' sword is swift and lethal, one stroke of his blade through the air silencing alvida before she can say another word, a storm of crackling energy barreling toward the the hull, the masts, and anything else in its path. shanks whips around, quickly sheathing his sword again, shouting — ) Go! Now!
( — before the miss love duck groans miserably, the gun decks seconds away from blowing. hongo, without missing a beat, springs into action, quickly apologizing as he scoops koby up and throws him over his shoulder, sprinting across the last stretch of gangplank and leaping onto the deck of the red force, where beck is already throwing shanks a line and barking orders at the crew to haul up the anchor and get the ship moving, now! none of them seem to question that shanks hasn't made it off the gangplank when the first explosion from the miss love duck rocks the hull — nor are they particularly surprised when shanks comes swinging out of the next series of explosions almost wholly unscathed aside from a few scrapes and missing half of his cape, landing in the middle of the deck with little fanfare, the rest of the crew simply carrying on as if this is a completely normal occurrence. he finds his way to where hongo is kneeling next to koby, offering them both an apologetic smile. )
Sorry about all the fuss. ( the fuss, as if that's what one calls casually blowing up an enemy pirate ship. then, to koby directly: ) You weren't injured, were you? ( which seems like a redundant question when the ship's doctor is right beside him, but it's important that shanks makes it clear that he doesn't usually put his guests in immediate danger in the process of rescuing them. ) Hongo will take care of you if you were.
no subject
The possibility of this (absurd and outlandish as it is) has him recoiling a little as the blond-haired pirate approaches, hands clinging to the mop so tightly they go white-knuckled, holding it between him and the man like it’ll – protect him, somehow. But he’s told to put it down, told to follow the stranger off the Miss Love Duck and onto the considerably more impressive ship alongside it, and somehow his trembling knees unlock enough to obey, to lift one foot, then the other, to walk over the bloodied deck he’s scrubbed on his hands and knees a thousand times and across the gangplank to – to what?
Alvida seems to know. She yells it, bloodied and crazed and crew-less, and Koby reacts like he’s accustomed to, eyes down, shoulders set, accepting the insults and threats like they don’t dig their way down, down into the very core of who he is, like they don’t snag there to ache alongside every other horrible thing she’s told him. Sometimes Alvida goes days without even acknowledging Koby’s existence, but her voice is always there, echoing in his ears, in every panicked beat of his heart as he pushes himself past the limit to keep her placated, as he works his fingers bloody again and again.
Even the content of the threats isn’t anything new – Alvida’s held that exact scenario over Koby’s head since that first day, since she found out exactly who (what) he was. There were no secrets on her ship, not from her, and when she found the bandages Koby’d grown accustomed to wrapping around and around his chest, when she demanded he show her exactly why he needed them – well. There were no secrets from Alvida. She’d made it very clear that if anyone else on the crew found out, she wouldn’t be able to hold them back. This was something just between the two of them, something nobody else would accept about him, something only she knew. It bled into threats, it echoed in the softer, sweeter words in her cabin, when there was almost a streak of perverse fondness in her hand on his hair, his chin, cupping it and clicking her tongue, shaking her head. It’s lucky you’re such a hard worker, Koby, Alvida would sigh, squeezing his face, forcing him to look at the smug, gloating smirk on her face. Because I’m not interested in the only other thing you’re good for. But maybe it’ll prove useful, later on, hm? You could help me bargain my way out of a hard spot.
That concept lodges in Koby’s mind now, the idea that maybe – maybe Alvida’s just bought her freedom, her triumph with him, like she always threatened, and his body threatens to seize up in panic, there on the deck, surrounded by a crew of pirates, of men with unclear motives, unclear desires. He’s about to turn, to scramble back and drop onto his knees in front of Alvida, to beg for forgiveness, because it couldn’t be worse than being alone on a ship of strangers, but – but then there’s an explosion that has him stumbling back into Hongo, grabbing at him instinctively, curling away from the familiar heat and scent of cannon fire.
Except. Except there’s no cannon. There’s just the ship crumbling, the crackling sound of something still resonant in the air, and Koby’s half-turned to look, to see what happened, but Hongo is – scooping him up before he can protest, before he can do anything but grab at his glasses to keep them from falling off his face as the crew of pirates springs into action, bounding off the creaking, groaning deck of the Miss Love Duck as the world itself seems to crack itself into pieces. Koby’s hands are up over his ears, eyes squeezed shut, and part of him realizes he’s been set down, because he scrambles backwards until his back hits something solid, some box or barrel. He wants to stay curled in on himself, hidden from the sight and sound of everything that’s happened in the last handful of moments, but not knowing what’s going on is worse.
So he looks up, just in time to see the captain – red-haired, smiling, still smiling, broad-shouldered and powerful and deadly – swing onto the deck like he hadn’t just killed an entire crew and it’s captain without exerting any effort whatsoever. He turns towards Koby, says – something, he doesn’t quite hear it because he’s jerking back against whatever he’s huddling beside, hard enough that his head smacks into the wood, making his ears ring.
But it registers, eventually, and Koby shakes his head hard, breath coming quick, quick as the birdlike race of his pulse, eyes flicking around from one member of the crew to another, always coming back to the captain, like a compass pulled north again and again. He’s dizzy with fear, with the mounting terror of the situation he’s gotten himself into, but beneath it there’s – curiosity, wonder, amazement at what this man had just done, the power he was capable. Swallowing hard, convulsively, he croaks out:] N-No, I’m. I’m f-fine, sir.
[Shanks. Alvida had called him Shanks.]