[ the nicer name option within their collection of terms of endearments, if "endearment" were to even really exist between them since the next option on the list probably would have been "shithead". ]
are you still asleep on the ship? i need you to come into town and take these barrels back for me
[ and then too quickly afterwards, ]
have chopper come with you so you actually get here
[ he was making an attempt. he was also fairly sure he'd seen that same door at least three times now, but like hell was he admitting that the cook was right.]
dont bother coming back if you do
[ as if zoro could even entertain the thought of abandoning a crew member, even one as infuriating as him. ]
[ (not that there isn't a small part of sanji that deems himself replaceable as the ship's cook, even with all his boasting confidence, but that's another issue —)
he hasn't moved an inch, even if he'd be tempted to, as he sits atop a crate amongst many others, along with plenty of barrels and sacks of food for their upcoming venture back through the sea. theoretically, he could take it all to the ship himself but there's plenty more stops he'd like to make through the market to sample more flavors and cuisines of the island's culture for the research purposes. making use of the idiot's strength to take everything back for him just seems more convenient.
cigarette in hand, he enjoys a smoke (and a delightful view of passing lady locals) while he waits. ]
since you think you're so good at finding me without a problem, prove it
[ luffy would never have accepted food from anyone else. he didn't think that was something that needed to be said, and he left it alone. the choice had nothing to do with the nagging discomfort he felt at the thought of the cook's actually not being there - a feeling quickly shoved down, silenced before he could think too hard about it. ]
fine
[ easier said than done. by his fourth pass, he'd started earning a few bewildered looks from passersby. how hard could it be to find one asshole in a crowd? it probably would have helped if he didn't end up covering the same ground again and again.
in the end, he'd almost ended up walking right on past him, his mounting frustration tying up his attention. he was well aware it had taken longer than it should have, every damned road looking identical to the last. it had only been by the familiar scent of tobacco that he'd stopped at all, jaw clenched and hackles raised before either of them had gotten a word out.]
Cook.
[ he was damned near challenging him to say something, some smart ass comment about the time it had taken him. ]
[ there are many things with zoro that sanji would put his faith in, despite any refusal to vocalize it out loud. there's a trust between them best kept silent, a reliance in the other to take care of the crew in one's absence, along with the confidence of dependency with one another's support in a fight that had once been so adamantly refused prior to that learned lesson during their challenge with the foxy pirates. for as much hatred that sanji would fuel within every interaction with the swordsman, they had a bond as nakama.
trusting zoro to find his way anywhere, however, is not one of those things.
still, he'd entertain him with the challenge, allowing a bit of time of zoro's stubbornness before just getting up to look for him himself, something that would probably save hours worth of pointless wandering. imagine his surprise when eventually (albeit still much longer than any normal person should take) a green-headed figure actually manages to wander up to where he is.
a curly brow raises with stunned intrigue, fingers pinching the cigarette from his lips to blow out a string of smoke as he hops down from the crate on his feet. ]
Eh? What's this? And no one led you by the hand to get here?
[ given that zoro had been fully prepared to walk right on by, should this have counted as finding his way? perhaps by the very loosest definition, but even that was a stretch. fluke, more like.
and yet, despite his near miss and bafflingly roundabout path, he had somehow managed to reach his destination. eventually. ]
No thanks to you, asshole.
[ he bristled defensively, a muscle working in his jaw as he glowered back at the cook. what was that tone? he didn't have to sound so damned surprised by it - not when his useless directions hadn't helped him in the least.
(maybe, had he managed to follow a single one, they would have, but that was beside the point.) ]
[ were it any other two members of the crew, this entire interaction could go along much more smoothly. but as misfortune has brought sanji and zoro to link up within several feet of one another, there isn't the slightest chance for this to go without some incident of raised voices and irritated tones.
as soon as the mutter of "asshole" slips from the greenheaded man's lips, sanji is all too instantly invading any semblance of his personal space, standing by the crates one second and then suddenly lodging the flat of his forehead to zoro's, pressing in with all the force he can muster, fueled either by haki or pure stubborn rage. ]
Ehhhhh!? Weren't you the one saying you wouldn't take directions from me, shithead?
[ given the seeming dissonance between the two, the synchronicity with which they moved was actually quite impressive by contrast. instinctively, he knew where the other man's anger would take him - and zoro was more than prepared to answer, his own forehead colliding against the cook's with equal and opposing force.
he grit his teeth, pushing back with every ounce of frustration and thick-headed defiance he possessed. which, while a considerable amount, was nowhere near enough to tip the scales between them. ]
Why the hell would I need some idiot cook telling me the wrong way to go?!
[ the air around them seemingly vibrates with energy, heat radiating from a fueling of their mutual irritation. typically, it takes the attractive presence of a woman to steal the entirety of sanji's attention, but zoro has a unique ability for embodying a full distraction in another manner, the way sanji instantly seems to nearly forget the original reason he asked zoro here in the first place, with no one capable of tearing his eyes away from their competitive shared contact now.
the press of their heads face quite the match as sanji refuses to back down with his foot braced heavily against the ground, even as their noses practically brush together. ]
And why the hell would I tell you the wrong way!? As if I'd want to waste my time waiting around for your lost ass!
[ his palm itched, hand instinctively wrapping itself around the grip of kitetsu, but making no move to actually draw it. it didn't matter where they were now, or that their raised voices might attract (even more) attention - the swordsman's focus had narrowed to a single point, unwilling to look past the man in front of him. he had that way of getting under his skin, riling him in a way no one else had ever managed to match.
he widened his stance, unwilling to concede even an inch. the cook could shove his entire face against his, for all he cared - he wouldn't be the one backing down. ]
Haaa?! Who asked you to?! You're one who needed me to carry your shit for you, you twirly brow bastard!
[ if someone like nami were to approach them, scolding them for their recklessness and public intimidations, sanji would buckle in an instant, abandoning any sense of competition to give in with obedience. but without an outside force strong enough to tear his attention away, priority stands with trying to maintain himself on zoro's level, and as he senses the other man's grip to his sword, his own leg remains just as prepared as his own weapon, surging with a sudden simmering fire from thigh to heel. ]
My shit!? I'm feeding your dumb mouth with that "shit", so how about I kick some damn respect into you!?
[ there was always a certain satisfaction in goading the cook, the suggestion of violence heating his blood as quick as any flame. this was where he thrived; his earlier frustrations were easily shrugged off, lest the weight of them end up slowing his blade.
that initial spark of fire was met with the sing of steel, two swords drawn and held at the ready. his lips split in a grin, smug that his prodding had had the desired effect. ]
[ sanji doesn't crave or hunger for thrill of a fight the way that zoro often does, nor does he take pleasure in it beyond its necessity as a form of protecting his crew, of keeping the ladies safe. yet there's undeniably a heat in his blood when it comes to fueling up towards a fight with zoro, even if he'd personally refuse to refer to it as excitement and more the depths of his own annoyance with the man.
it burns the fire around his leg hot, cracks the resistance of his temper, as he grits his teeth, eyes stern with the challenge, as the sight of zoro's grin grips at something tight in the inside. ]
I'll teach you a damn lesson, shitty swordsman—!
[ and he gives a spin on his heel, hurling up the force of his own leg, well aware that zoro won't simply take it, but driving all of his strength into the kick regardless. ]
[ the blow was met with the flats of his blades, the sheer force enough to make him dig his heels in, adjusting his stance.
while there was much to be said about the cook's physical strength, it wasn't what got zoro's pulse racing. they had faced strong opponents plenty of times - but none had been able to read him the way sanji could. by that same voiceless understanding they shared on the battlefield, zoro knew he didn't need to hold back. not with him.
for someone who had always communicated better through actions, there was a sort of honesty to it that the swordsman could appreciate. ]
Tch.
[ he shoved back hard with his crossed blades; attempting to knock him off balance was a wasted effort, but he could at least create enough space to attack properly. ]
What the hell could a perverted cook have to teach me about respect?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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marimo
[ the nicer name option within their collection of terms of endearments, if "endearment" were to even really exist between them since the next option on the list probably would have been "shithead". ]
are you still asleep on the ship?
i need you to come into town and take these barrels back for me
[ and then too quickly afterwards, ]
have chopper come with you so you actually get here
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[read: yes, he had been sleeping. he could have maybe let it slide, if not for that last bit.]
EHH?? the hell is THAT supposed to mean??
like i couldnt hear your annoying ass a mile away, shit cook
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eh??? you know exactly what it means, shitty swordsman
if you could actually get anywhere without the help, i wouldn't say it
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not my fault you give shit directions
[ yes, that is the problem. ]
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YOU CAN'T EVEN READ A FUCKING MAP
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[ logic. ]
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[ idiot argues with idiot. ]
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[ "shit direction" or not, zoro wouldn't be blaming it on sanji if he weren't trying to follow them, right?? ]
just get your ass over here so we can get food on the ship or i'm returning all this liquor
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dont bother coming back if you do
[ as if zoro could even entertain the thought of abandoning a crew member, even one as infuriating as him. ]
stay where you are dammit
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[ (not that there isn't a small part of sanji that deems himself replaceable as the ship's cook, even with all his boasting confidence, but that's another issue —)
he hasn't moved an inch, even if he'd be tempted to, as he sits atop a crate amongst many others, along with plenty of barrels and sacks of food for their upcoming venture back through the sea. theoretically, he could take it all to the ship himself but there's plenty more stops he'd like to make through the market to sample more flavors and cuisines of the island's culture for the research purposes. making use of the idiot's strength to take everything back for him just seems more convenient.
cigarette in hand, he enjoys a smoke (and a delightful view of passing lady locals) while he waits. ]
since you think you're so good at finding me without a problem, prove it
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fine
[ easier said than done. by his fourth pass, he'd started earning a few bewildered looks from passersby. how hard could it be to find one asshole in a crowd? it probably would have helped if he didn't end up covering the same ground again and again.
in the end, he'd almost ended up walking right on past him, his mounting frustration tying up his attention. he was well aware it had taken longer than it should have, every damned road looking identical to the last. it had only been by the familiar scent of tobacco that he'd stopped at all, jaw clenched and hackles raised before either of them had gotten a word out.]
Cook.
[ he was damned near challenging him to say something, some smart ass comment about the time it had taken him. ]
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trusting zoro to find his way anywhere, however, is not one of those things.
still, he'd entertain him with the challenge, allowing a bit of time of zoro's stubbornness before just getting up to look for him himself, something that would probably save hours worth of pointless wandering. imagine his surprise when eventually (albeit still much longer than any normal person should take) a green-headed figure actually manages to wander up to where he is.
a curly brow raises with stunned intrigue, fingers pinching the cigarette from his lips to blow out a string of smoke as he hops down from the crate on his feet. ]
Eh? What's this? And no one led you by the hand to get here?
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and yet, despite his near miss and bafflingly roundabout path, he had somehow managed to reach his destination. eventually. ]
No thanks to you, asshole.
[ he bristled defensively, a muscle working in his jaw as he glowered back at the cook. what was that tone? he didn't have to sound so damned surprised by it - not when his useless directions hadn't helped him in the least.
(maybe, had he managed to follow a single one, they would have, but that was beside the point.) ]
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as soon as the mutter of "asshole" slips from the greenheaded man's lips, sanji is all too instantly invading any semblance of his personal space, standing by the crates one second and then suddenly lodging the flat of his forehead to zoro's, pressing in with all the force he can muster, fueled either by haki or pure stubborn rage. ]
Ehhhhh!? Weren't you the one saying you wouldn't take directions from me, shithead?
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he grit his teeth, pushing back with every ounce of frustration and thick-headed defiance he possessed. which, while a considerable amount, was nowhere near enough to tip the scales between them. ]
Why the hell would I need some idiot cook telling me the wrong way to go?!
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the press of their heads face quite the match as sanji refuses to back down with his foot braced heavily against the ground, even as their noses practically brush together. ]
And why the hell would I tell you the wrong way!? As if I'd want to waste my time waiting around for your lost ass!
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he widened his stance, unwilling to concede even an inch. the cook could shove his entire face against his, for all he cared - he wouldn't be the one backing down. ]
Haaa?! Who asked you to?! You're one who needed me to carry your shit for you, you twirly brow bastard!
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My shit!? I'm feeding your dumb mouth with that "shit", so how about I kick some damn respect into you!?
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that initial spark of fire was met with the sing of steel, two swords drawn and held at the ready. his lips split in a grin, smug that his prodding had had the desired effect. ]
Why don't you try it?
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it burns the fire around his leg hot, cracks the resistance of his temper, as he grits his teeth, eyes stern with the challenge, as the sight of zoro's grin grips at something tight in the inside. ]
I'll teach you a damn lesson, shitty swordsman—!
[ and he gives a spin on his heel, hurling up the force of his own leg, well aware that zoro won't simply take it, but driving all of his strength into the kick regardless. ]
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while there was much to be said about the cook's physical strength, it wasn't what got zoro's pulse racing. they had faced strong opponents plenty of times - but none had been able to read him the way sanji could. by that same voiceless understanding they shared on the battlefield, zoro knew he didn't need to hold back. not with him.
for someone who had always communicated better through actions, there was a sort of honesty to it that the swordsman could appreciate. ]
Tch.
[ he shoved back hard with his crossed blades; attempting to knock him off balance was a wasted effort, but he could at least create enough space to attack properly. ]
What the hell could a perverted cook have to teach me about respect?