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TEST DRIVE ∞ May 2025
Test Drive ∞ May 2025
The First Collision
The Diadem is an invite-only panfandom game set in a retro-futuristic world where uprooted souls find themselves deep within an eerie wasteland of roads and highways frequently assailed by cosmic storms. Three united strongholds keep the population. Its capital is Panorama, a large metropolis at the planet's center.
Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Calling themselves fluxdrifts, the "locals" have similar stories to you, either for themselves or their ancestry. You speak to an old woman who claims she hailed from another star. You meet a young man who says his great-great-grandfather knew a strange language everybody spoke "back home." As you explore, you stumble across a coin you recognize or your sister's locket. How did it get here? What does this mean? That's for you to discover.
But first, you need to find a ride.
Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Calling themselves fluxdrifts, the "locals" have similar stories to you, either for themselves or their ancestry. You speak to an old woman who claims she hailed from another star. You meet a young man who says his great-great-grandfather knew a strange language everybody spoke "back home." As you explore, you stumble across a coin you recognize or your sister's locket. How did it get here? What does this mean? That's for you to discover.
But first, you need to find a ride.
No invites needed to play on the TDM. Everyone's welcome! Use the Invite Request thread below to request an invite from another player.
∞ Summary ∞
IC-wise, arrivals are scattered throughout the month. Events described on the TDM are also ongoing throughout the month. If you'd rather jump right into the action, you're free to begin in media res with your character having already been on the planet for several days.
Post-impact, characters will wake up in a med tent by the Scrapyard. From there, they must accept a vehicle on loan and make the 2-hour drive to the nearest city, Panorama. If they refuse the car because they don't want the loan, they'll be in debt for medical bills instead...so just take the car. It'll come in handy.
Some things to keep in mind when bringing in your character:
TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. Top-levels made to the TDM should be open to all.
Post-impact, characters will wake up in a med tent by the Scrapyard. From there, they must accept a vehicle on loan and make the 2-hour drive to the nearest city, Panorama. If they refuse the car because they don't want the loan, they'll be in debt for medical bills instead...so just take the car. It'll come in handy.
Some things to keep in mind when bringing in your character:
- Pick an injury. At minimum, they got knocked out; at most, whatever they can recover from. Medicine is decently advanced so they'll heal faster if not painlessly.
- Decide items kept. Reasonable items on their person only: photos, keys, clothes, costumes. No pets or animal companions. Wildly out-of-place tech and personal cell phones will be damaged beyond repair.
- Select a weapon. Do this only if eligible. Guidelines about weapons and powers are on the FAQ.
- Choose a vehicle. Decide whether your character gets 2-3 options or if they're stuck with something they hate. Players can pick directly from our collection or source their own images. Anything under a similar aesthetic will work. If your character needs accommodations for driving, they can have them. Ask us for details.
- Get a phone. Characters have to obtain a phone (and a SIM card) themselves. If they've got one from home, it's damaged beyond repair. Phones are cheap. It'll only take a couple of weeks to afford one. You need to know the number before you text or call anyone. Read about phones and the Forum before you hop on it.
TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. Top-levels made to the TDM should be open to all.
Fluxdrift
Arrival & Introduction
Date: Throughout May
You've tumbled over a cliff. You were fighting for your life. You're on the cusp of death. You slipped in the shower. Whatever the catalyst, you struggle to cling to consciousness. As darkness overtakes you, a swirling vortex warps light and shadow in a way that defies all physics. A dark wail etches into your very bones. You couldn't describe it if you tried. You can barely comprehend what it is.
Then you open your eyes.
Through the figure's mask ©, you swear the face is grinning down at you. The tent you're in smells of antiseptic, and scratchy blankets line your cot. Injuries you've sustained have been bandaged. In the corner, you spot a MedBot that's fixed you up. Depending on the extent of your injuries, the doctor on duty might give you some painkillers before you go. Thankfully, your belongings are by the exit. Sorry if anything's damaged. Your landing was pretty rough.
You follow the figure outside. They are Yom Crook, here to lend a hand to fellow fluxdrifts like yourself. Their car's parked beside them. Actually, there are lots of cars around, but Yom Crook's stands out with its painted shark mouth. They explain they found you, unconscious, in a diffusion zone and brought you here. The nearest city is a 2-hour drive northeast. Forget about walking. You'll never make it. Also, you owe the doctor a lot of money for patching you up. But you're in luck: they've got some wheels for you and if you accept the vehicle on loan, Yom Crook will cover your medical bills. That's a good deal, right? It's not the shiniest car or motorcycle, but it'll do. If fortune favors, you'll get to choose between two or three options. Plus, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free.
Take the vehicle. (And the loan.) Yom Crook assures you that you'll have six months before collectors come around. Any time you're ready to pay a part of it down, return here to the Scrapyard. You'll get a receipt and everything. Paying off the loan in six months isn't impossible, but it will take a lot of work. Just don't get too lax. There's a good chance you'll be juggling multiple loans as you try to get by.
You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more a suggestion than enforced, so just hit the pedal and go. The car has some basic features. The built-in compass will help you navigate.
Through the figure's mask ©, you swear the face is grinning down at you. The tent you're in smells of antiseptic, and scratchy blankets line your cot. Injuries you've sustained have been bandaged. In the corner, you spot a MedBot that's fixed you up. Depending on the extent of your injuries, the doctor on duty might give you some painkillers before you go. Thankfully, your belongings are by the exit. Sorry if anything's damaged. Your landing was pretty rough.
You follow the figure outside. They are Yom Crook, here to lend a hand to fellow fluxdrifts like yourself. Their car's parked beside them. Actually, there are lots of cars around, but Yom Crook's stands out with its painted shark mouth. They explain they found you, unconscious, in a diffusion zone and brought you here. The nearest city is a 2-hour drive northeast. Forget about walking. You'll never make it. Also, you owe the doctor a lot of money for patching you up. But you're in luck: they've got some wheels for you and if you accept the vehicle on loan, Yom Crook will cover your medical bills. That's a good deal, right? It's not the shiniest car or motorcycle, but it'll do. If fortune favors, you'll get to choose between two or three options. Plus, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free.
Take the vehicle. (And the loan.) Yom Crook assures you that you'll have six months before collectors come around. Any time you're ready to pay a part of it down, return here to the Scrapyard. You'll get a receipt and everything. Paying off the loan in six months isn't impossible, but it will take a lot of work. Just don't get too lax. There's a good chance you'll be juggling multiple loans as you try to get by.
You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more a suggestion than enforced, so just hit the pedal and go. The car has some basic features. The built-in compass will help you navigate.
OPTIONAL PROMPTS: a flat tire; a body on the road (is it a trap?); a fender bender
Panorama
Explore & Settle In
Conditions: Warm spring temperatures, light showers
After 2 hours on the road, you find civilization. The largest of the strongholds, Panorama is where the economy thrives. Massive power plants glowing red make it visible from a distance. The city is divided into three districts. For now, you can access the Pavilion and the Blocks. Don't worry about the Sanctum; they're not letting you in.
You only need to know two things about Panorama: 1) it's big, the size of a modern metropolis, and you'll need your car to get around; 2) anything goes as long as you don't pick a fight with the wrong person. Street smarts will get you far. Despite its geographical size, the population isn't huge. With roughly a million people in a city designed for over twice that number, Panorama is far from deserted, but nor is it overcrowded. It's a good thing. Resources are limited as it is.
You only need to know two things about Panorama: 1) it's big, the size of a modern metropolis, and you'll need your car to get around; 2) anything goes as long as you don't pick a fight with the wrong person. Street smarts will get you far. Despite its geographical size, the population isn't huge. With roughly a million people in a city designed for over twice that number, Panorama is far from deserted, but nor is it overcrowded. It's a good thing. Resources are limited as it is.
The Pavilion: Free Samples
Like any large city, Panorama features a couple of supermarkets. The stock's not as consistent as a proper supermarket. On occasion, shelves can remain cleaned out for a week or two. Regardless, the long tradition of free samples remains. If you're not already shopping, you'll notice the crowded parking lot and clusters of lines inside.
Try samples, push through the crowds as you shop, or give yourself a five-finger discount. If you're cautious, you can pocket a few small items without consequences. The Pavillion doesn't have the infrastructure for surveillance; unless someone sees you, you won't be caught. Steal from the store or pilfer someone's wallet. Maybe you even make a new friend if you bump into another fluxdrift. Or, start a fight with somebody who cut you off in the cheese line. Don't make too much of a ruckus, or you'll be thrown out.
As you look around, you'll see posters advertising temporary positions for the cash register or graveyard shifts in the warehouse. Seems they might've lost several employees recently (how'd that happen?), which is good for you! It's just a 6-week position, but it'll get you on your feet. The city has temporary positions like this all over. Permanent ones are harder to come by when you're new.
Try samples, push through the crowds as you shop, or give yourself a five-finger discount. If you're cautious, you can pocket a few small items without consequences. The Pavillion doesn't have the infrastructure for surveillance; unless someone sees you, you won't be caught. Steal from the store or pilfer someone's wallet. Maybe you even make a new friend if you bump into another fluxdrift. Or, start a fight with somebody who cut you off in the cheese line. Don't make too much of a ruckus, or you'll be thrown out.
As you look around, you'll see posters advertising temporary positions for the cash register or graveyard shifts in the warehouse. Seems they might've lost several employees recently (how'd that happen?), which is good for you! It's just a 6-week position, but it'll get you on your feet. The city has temporary positions like this all over. Permanent ones are harder to come by when you're new.
Samples include: steamed cabbage dumplings, synthetic cherry juice, cheddar cheese, and chocolate-covered alien eggs (it's crunchy and weirdly tasty). They're served in the usual throwaway paper cups with little toothpicks.
The Blocks: Power Outage
Power's finicky in Panorama, especially in the Blocks. Saint Margery's Hospital, located in the same area, has priority for power so the first to go are the motels. Maybe you've been in your room for a couple of weeks, maybe you just got here—and by the way, every motel desk is happy to put the fee on your tab if you don't have the money upfront—but all the motels on the east side are in a blackout, leaving only the west side motels up and running.
What do you do? You have three choices:
What do you do? You have three choices:
- Risk leaving your room and head to the other side where there's power. Knock on some doors and negotiate with another to share the room. They might shut the door in your face, ask for a favor in return, or be nice enough to help you with no strings attached. There's no guarantee your unattended room will be untouched, though, and you'll be on the hook for any damages an intruder causes.
- Sit in the dark and deal. It's not the worst idea, but the TV's down, the vending machines are powered down, and with the entire place plunged into darkness, you risk getting robbed. If you struggle with defending yourself, you might want to find some trustworthy company. You can also sneak out of there and let them take your leftover pizza. It's not like you've got a ton of valuables, right? Plus, clobbering someone in the face with a frying pan sounds great until you realize you've gotta do something with the body. And what if this person's got a friend waiting?
- Get in your car and drive (or grab a friend for a road trip). If you scroll the Forum, you might notice reports on diffusion zones southward. Besides, these motels are hardly your forever home. The city can only provide so much. Why not go for a ride and see what you can find out there?
OPTIONAL PROMPTS: clean up on aisle 3 (what is that goo?); a knock at your door but no one's there; you hear screaming or a commotion down the hall
The Fringes
Quad 3: Lockdown
Conditions: Stormy, with flooding roads
Felix Bjurstrom
> Date: 125-05-17
> Time: 02:15:57
> Emergency road lights have been reported in Quadrant 3! Please, can someone go see what's there? When last we chasers investigated emergency lights, a whole truck filled with sour candy had tipped over. Our stores were stocked for weeks! Oh, be careful - reception looks bad in that zone.
> Date: 125-05-17
> Time: 02:15:57
> Emergency road lights have been reported in Quadrant 3! Please, can someone go see what's there? When last we chasers investigated emergency lights, a whole truck filled with sour candy had tipped over. Our stores were stocked for weeks! Oh, be careful - reception looks bad in that zone.
Through the open windows, a computer awakens and displays a cheerful smile. The lights inside switch on.
Pick your scenario role below. Your thread partner doesn't need to take the opposite role! They can join you in the same scenario (i.e. trapped together). Players are also free to create a generic NPC for the other side to facilitate the thread.
After characters escape, they'll find one bottle of antibiotics in their pocket or car, whether they remember taking it or not.
After characters escape, they'll find one bottle of antibiotics in their pocket or car, whether they remember taking it or not.
A: Sealed In
As you peer through the windows, you see crates of medicine floating around. Antibiotics in the diadem are valuable. Hospitals and doctors are always buying. You can keep it for yourself or make a quick buck. Or maybe you're compelled to help somebody back in the city who's in need. Whatever the reason, you decide to take the risk and step inside.
Water splashes around your ankles. The lock buzzes behind you. If you try to break the windows, you discover they're unnaturally resistant to shattering. With the whole place locked tight, the water begins to churn. Then the computer lights up again.
Warning, it flashes in large, bold text. Quarantine in progress. Release code required for exit.
- To find the code, you'll have to search. Duck under the water, go through sopping envelopes and sticky notes or pick the locks on the filing cabinets and desk drawers. You can also try hacking the computers. Use your computer knowledge or fall back on the age-old trick of seeing who wrote down their password.
- The files, notepads, and emails start innocuous, but as you look through them, disturbing phrases jump out at you—a dark thought you've had or a cruel taunt from someone in your past. The longer you're fixed on the terrible words, the higher the water begins to rise. Only another can break you out of your trance.
- With the rising water comes fear. And the more you're afraid, the more the water also rises. You begin to see faces in the water, bobbing like balloon heads. Do you recognize them? If you move to take a closer look, they will sink back beneath the surface as if never there.
- If you manage to swallow your panic, you can eventually find a triple-laminated binder with the release code and instructions. Bad news: you need someone on the outside to punch in the 6 strange symbols in order. The instructions explain that the code panel is located at the back of the building.
B: Set Free
As you peer through the windows, you see not just the crates of medicine but someone trapped inside. They look like they might be in trouble, and from your vantage point, you notice that the water is bubbling strangely. It's definitely not normal rainwater. As you watch, the water rises unnaturally, stopping and starting. It's as if the water level is responding to an external stimulus.
- The glass is soundproof. You can't hear what the person inside is saying, so you'll have to communicate with each other another way. Try charades, typing on your phone, or whatever you think of. Eventually, you determine that they're stuck and that you need to enter some sort of code onto a pad located—according to your trapped partner—at the back of the building.
- Around the back, shadows swallow your surroundings. The panel must be pried open, but a slippery substance makes it hard to get a good grip. Each time the substance touches you, you grow uneasy. You swear you see eyes watching you, though when you turn around, nothing's there.
- You can't seem to keep the instructions in your mind. And those symbols...they burn into your retinas. Through them, you glimpse an incomprehensibly massive figure unfurling in the darkness, pulsing as if in a deep sleep. When you snap back to reality, you realize you've injured yourself, slicing your hand on a sharp edge or a bruise you can't remember getting.
- Once you manage to release the doors, the water inside the office drains upward into the sky as though sucked out by a giant hose. The darkness spreads. Get out of there fast before the shadows drag you or your partner into the void.
Main Navigation ::: ⇅
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no subject
You saying you believe me but wanting to walk behind me makes me wonder if you think I'm a liar or if you are one. ( she'll put her foot down about this ) I'd prefer you didn't walk behind me when going up the stairs.
( because he's... still a guy, and she's a girl, and it's a little weird...? even if she doesn't think he means it that way. )
Let's go together.
no subject
I'd never think of women as liars and I'd also never lie to them, but— [ not intentionally, anyway. ] I haven't had a chance to prove that to you yet, so fair enough.
[ he raises his hands in defeat before lowering them again and giving a nod with his smile. ]
But together sounds good.
no subject
he agrees, though, and that's enough for wanda.
up the stairs they'll go, wanda holding onto the banister because it still is unspeakably dark. and while she doesn't go up too fast, she notices that he still falls behind a little, though he seems to be trying his utmost to go up at the same pace as her. her eyes narrow a touch, because it's so subtle—
and then the power comes back on.
the neighborhood bursts into cheers, as every electric device bursts to life anew, the lights in the hallway and out this way flickering back on. just as they reach the landing.
wanda's eyes are locked down onto his knees, so she's not really in a rush to acquaint herself properly with his face. )
You got hurt.
( it's not a question; she can tell, both from observation and a light brush of her telepathy into his mind's surface level thoughts. )
no subject
there hasn't really been much to give him a reason to smile as of late, the frustration of being separated from his crew lingering just beneath the surface of his skin that it's affected any opportunity to even pretend to be normal during these weeks here. unable to keep a steady job on account of not being able to present the fullness of his own dedication to his craft, while drowning in the worry of whether his friends are getting all the proper nutrients they need in their daily meals, hasn't exactly led him to the happiest of days.
so it's nice to joke, to smile, to laugh at himself with someone else, especially someone whose voice sounds as lovely as hers.
it makes the walking pleasant all on its own to catch a few more minutes with her, even as he momentarily gets distracted again by the rising ache in his knee again, where the edge of the metal had banged so suddenly that it'd even scrapped a hole in his pants, scratching a line against the skin beneath. it slows him a little, even as he tries to set the thought aside, focused on the walk that by the time they reach the second floor, he's momentarily caught off guard by the sudden presence of light.
and it's the first he gets a look at her, eyes instantly drawn to peer down at her, in case the power decides to flicker out again, to steal a chance to actually see the woman he's been speaking to for the past several minutes. it's only brief as her own gaze seems to be distracted by something below, but he does catch a glimpse of her eyes and their calming green, along with the slight scatter of freckles that he's sure could map out constellations against her cheeks.
you got hurt. he's momentarily distracted with the rest of her that he doesn't immediately grasp what her voice is saying, blinking a few times with a light squint as if trying to recall something they were speaking about that he might have somehow missed. ]
Hurt? What do you—? [ he huffs a light chuckle in his confusion before he stills, finally realizing the direction of her eyes, lips parting with his quiet surprise. ] Oh, you mean my knee? Just a light scratch is all. You noticed that?
no subject
eyes flicker up at him momentarily. )
You're loud about it.
( not in the way he might think, but wanda doesn't let him ponder upon that thought long enough to think about. instead, she figures that she still owes him, since his trousers are ruined and he's got a bit of an injury. if he were to notice anything beyond her face, though, he'd notice the light burnt mark around her neck and the bandages peeking from under her sleeves at her wrists.
which makes sense in tandem with what she says next. )
I put together a small first-aid kit. I can try to fix your pants, too.
no subject
but it becomes such a secondary thought compared to the rest of the present distractions, namely her, standing there in front of him with so much to draw his eyes now that he can see everything that had been so hidden in the darkness before, like when he lifts his eyes to hers again and catches the curious color at her neck.
he doesn't let his gaze linger, nor does he ask, but the sight remains put to memory. instead, he gives a gentle smile to her offer. ]
I wouldn't want to inconvenience you, Wanda, and I promise you, I'm more than alright — [ with a parted mouth, he pauses briefly, before his bottom lip curves inward, giving a gentle drag of his teeth as he considers her words from before (i'm not helpless) and his own insistence on aiding her. ] But I'd appreciate that, thank you.
no subject
she nods, and offers no other words as she leads the way past the door of his room to her own, a few rooms down, and lets them both inside. when the light is turned on, it's clear that the place is exactly the same as sanji's, except she's gotten herself candles and curtains for her window; the place is as neat as she could keep it, the bed pressed to the corner while other fixtures and furniture gravitated closer to the kitchenette.
wanda tosses her keys onto the small table, toeing off her shoes against the wall, places her bag and jacket on one of the two chairs. without her jacket, it's clear, too, that she has bandaged wrists to go along with the mark around her neck. )
Sit anywhere you like.
( is all she offers before she goes into the bathroom, turning on the light there for a moment and grabbing at the pouch she's used to put together her kit. it's not just for first aid, though; she has a few sewing needles and scraps of cloth in there, too.
coming back into the room after turning off the light in the bathroom and closing the door, she sits at the edge of her bed to peruse her the pouch, socked toes pressed to the floor. )
Your pants are — a dark blue?
( it's hard to tell with the ugly, orange glow of these old lightbulbs. )
Or are they black?
no subject
stepping within her space, it's close enough to his own, just as simplistic with the way he's barely made much efforts to turn it into anything too comfortable, nothing beyond stocking the fridge with as much as he could afford with what little he had.
with her offer to sit, he peers around before settling on the chair free of her bag, watching as she moves in and out of the bathroom. ]
Dark blue, sort of a navy. Anything you've got is more than fine, though. I'm sure it'll make it look better regardless.
[ he cracks a light playful grin, his mind now turning to her intent to give his pants a fix, suddenly mapping out the process in his mind as he stares down to knees, extending it out a bit to watch the ripped fabric graze together and split. ]
Do I, ah — do you sew it like this or — ah, should I take these off?
no subject
she starts looking around for different clothes in that tone, and only raises her head to stare at him when he asks about the logistics of it all. wanda holds two different cloths already on her hand, between her fingers, and she was genuinely thinking that he'd remove his trousers before sitting.
suppose this isn't entirely a normal situation. wanda, too, realizes that this might be awkward for him. for her? them?
(truth be told, she isn't bothered too much by the practicality of it.) )
You should take them off so that I can sew them from the inside. That way the stitching won't be noticeable.
( ...a pause... )
Do you need — a towel? Or a blanket?
no subject
he's well aware that there's no suggestion anywhere between the lines, but it proves to feel a little awkward all the same, if only because of his own standards in being a proper gentleman, which doesn't consist of flaunting around in his underwear. ]
Uh, no, it's — as long as you're alright with it. I just don't want to be indecent in front of a lady.
[ standing back up, his hands fall to his belt, undoing the buckle with slow care, suddenly far more aware of just how small this room is. ]
It is alright with you, yeah?
[ even if she's technically already confirmed it. ]
no subject
he's a handsome guy, and the situation could definitely be misconstrued for something else, any other time. )
Yeah. ( anyway, ) Don't call me 'lady' either, makes me feel old.
( she doesn't need more scraps of cloth, but she's pretending to be busy, looking through her pouch of miscellaneous materials. hating that this feels stiff and awkward, she stands, her back to him, and sets down her selected cloths; hands push locks of hair behind her ears as she goes about the drawers on the side table to find her sewing kit. )
I used to mend my brother's clothes a lot. He always grew out of them, or he ruined them by doing stupid things.
no subject
but — yeah, she says. so it's fine. it's fine. ]
No lady. Just Wanda. [ he does managed to loosen up a bit then with a crack of his smile. even if his use of lady spans those of any age at all, he's taking notes on all the things that bother her, putting every detail he learns about her to memory.
as she turns away, it seems as much of a cue to finish his own undressing, because somehow the very process of doing so seems a lot more intimate than the actual aftermath of being undressed itself. belt unbuckled, he unzips his pants next, trying to quietly shuffle them off his hips, as he's left standing there in a pair of blue boxers with scattered pink heart patterns, suddenly wishing he'd worn something more like a generic black today. ]
Oh, you have a brother? [ as he drags his pants down to his ankles, he has to tug his shoes off as the fabric gets caught in it, carefully aligning them neatly beside the chair before finally pulling the pants off properly. ] Sounds like you were the behaved type then, that right?
no subject
she stills suddenly when sanji asks about her brother.
he doesn't know, just trying to make conversation with her, amiable and easy-going, likely trying to stave off any awkwardness from the fact that he's very much standing in just his boxers in her tiny room. she sighs, looks up at a spot on the ceiling, and decides it's best to ignore his questions. that's easily done, though, because upon turning around with the other supplies she was looking for, she finds him there, in a pair of blue boxers with pink heart patterns, and the belongings he removed all neat and tidy.
she tilts her head up, a smile forming, meeting his eyes. )
Cute choice.
( of boxers.
wanda sits back on the bed, this time folding her legs under herself, and pats the spot next to herself; her pouch with the kit of supplies sits on her lap. he needs patching up first. )
What about you? ( —she never answered his questions— ) Do you have an interesting story about yourself?
no subject
his own lips curve up helplessly, easy in its grin. ]
Thanks. I guess it's my lucky pair.
[ a playful joke with his chuckle that follows, even if, in a way, they really might be, with how they've brought him to her tonight.
with the invitation of pat upon her bed, his posture relaxes in the face of her easy responses, helping him to bypass the strangeness of it all as he steps the short distance across the room to take a seat upon the bed, leaving enough of a distance for him to turn his knees inwards towards her direction, setting his half folded pants neatly beside him.
(he notices, attentive to many things with women, that she doesn't answer about her brother, but he doesn't follow up, not willing to probe further if she'd avoided it purposely.) ]
Me? [ he cracks another smile, shrugging his shoulder. ] Not sure about a story, but — well, I'm a cook back home. Worked on a floating restaurant in the middle of the East Blue sea for half my life. Now? Guess I'm kind of a pirate.
no subject
when he sits himself down, wanda fetches through her kit to pull out an alcohol swab. she can see on one of his knees that the injury he got isn't too bad; he probably won't be able to feel it tomorrow, but the blood is dried up on the skin, from the scratch, and so she gently dabs at it. her attention is on his knee, back hunched over a touch. )
A cook in a restaurant that floated on the sea...
( she repeats, paraphrasing, sounding a little amused, a little intrigued.
wanda wonders if he's any good at cooking. anyone can call themselves a cook.
after a couple more gentle dabs, she sets the swab aside, then fetches a topical cream that's supposed to help with scarring. hair gets in her way, so she pushes it behind her shoulder. i'm kind of a pirate makes her smile a touch, even as she lightly rubs the cream over the scratch with the pad of her fingers. )
I don't think pirates are supposed to be a good thing, but it doesn't sound so bad. ( she wipes at her hand with the swab, now fetching a large enough bandaid to cover his 'injury'. ) Were you in the sea before coming here? I was, too.
( the burn mark on her neck is noticeable, now, from this distance. placing the bandaid on, she rubs it lightly to warm up the adhesive. )
Not that I'm a pirate.
no subject
he sits himself still as she dabs it with the swab, letting her do what she feels is necessary for treating it with no intent on interfering. instead, he gives his attention to her questions, content to tell her anything she'd like to know if she asks.
when she repeats his words, he can only smile. in his time here, he's learned that most people don't come from a world like this own, and there's something always a bit joyous to witness their intrigue of what apparently sounds like a fantasy (though melancholic too with the reminder of how far he is now from that world too). ]
I don't know. I like to think we're plenty good. [ luffy, nami, usopp, even zoro — there's good will in all of them, carrying pure dreams that should never be ridiculed, always looking out for those in need of help. he remembers being a kid, holding a knife to zeff, merely for being a pirate, a man who'd sacrificed his own leg to save his own worthless life.
he gives a shake of his head, sighing at the reminder of how divided the idea of moral good is in his world. ] Besides, just because the government says you're a criminal, doesn't mean that's who you are.
[ wanda tucks back her hair behind her shoulder, drawing the direction of sanji's eyes, catching again on the mark around her neck, now even more visible under the light of the room than it had been outside on the steps. it makes it far more difficult to ignore, too fresh to be any kind of old scar.
i was, too. she says of being on the sea. he carefully lifts his hand, not quite bringing them to her neck to touch her skin but tentatively using his fingers to lightly brush back a bit more of her hair. ]
Is that where this came from?
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when he says his part about the government and being a criminal, how it doesn't make you that, she stops, looking up at him. would that he hit the nail on the head, most likely without realizing. inclined forward as she is, close to his space, it makes this specific moment a lot more intimate, when he reaches his hand to draw her hair back.
right, the burn mark.
she nods, gaze listing to the side for a moment in active consideration of whether he is someone she could trust before returning to face him. she nods, once, and brings hands back to her lap. )
I was in a prison. ( —in the sea— ) I guess that when I got here, the cuff — malfunctioned.
( her fingers twist together, fidgeting, as does her mouth, worry drawn on the lines of her face as she scoots back, looking down. )
...sorry I didn't mention it earlier.
( because even if he thinks the way he does, it's different to talk to someone who was in prison, justly or not, regardless of their crimes, and she figures that not everyone is comfortable with this kind of company. those who had offered her a ride when she first arrived? they had the benefit of seeing her uniform, of making their own assumptions and decisions; sanji had no such benefit. )
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'Sorry'? Why would you—? [ his brows knit with confusion at her apology, shaking his head swiftly to it. ] They're the ones who should be sorry. If I saw the shitbags who put that around your neck —
[ there's a brief tension in his tone, not at all phased by her being in a prison, but that she'd faced any kind of cruelty while there. but he presses his lips together to ease back on his own distraught annoyance, focusing more on the priority at hand, on her, his voice returning to gentle concern as he continues to study the mark. ]
You said you've been here days, yeah? [ hmm, and it's still that vivid and dark. ] Might get infected or start to scar if it's not treated. You, uh — [ he turns his head to meet her eyes, trailing his gaze down to topical cream she'd used on his knee. ] I could help put some of that on — if it's okay. Burned my hands on the stove enough times as a kid to know how to be gentle with it.
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suppose that all she remembers is seeing the smug faces of officers as they clasped the cuff around her neck to keep her from using her powers, at binding her arms in what effectively was a straightjacket. she didn't stop to consider that others would see it and think of how fucked up it was, that nothing she'd done would be deserving of that.
the image of him becomes a little hazy with the welling of tears, but she's quick to shake her head, to hide that, and instead finds one of his hands to hold; her two hands, pressed down onto his hand, against the mattress. she's appreciative of him, of what he says and what he wants to do, and... wanda might actually take him up on it, but right now, she doesn't want sanji to see her cry.
which is why she says what needs to be done first. )
Let me fix your pants first. Then you can do all that with a little more dignity, ( (she's joking) ) even if they're your lucky boxers.
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when he lifts his eyes again, she's already working to redirect their attention — the pants — even as his eyes fall back upon that lasting injury, marred upon soft skin. the pants are hardly a priority, even if he has to sit there in his boxers all night just to take the time to tend to her more significant wound, wanting to soothe it away even if he can't for whatever hurt sits in her heart.
but he smiles for her, because he knows she needs it, a gentle upturn of his lips, soft with intended reassurance. though he doesn't reach to touch the mark, he does bring in the hover of his other hand, still lingering at her hair, to graze a gentle caress with his thumb to the bottom of her cheek. ]
Okay. [ he speaks it with no question, if it's what she wants, even if the intention is still there in his eyes, the offer to help her. ] Only because you shouldn't have to have such an indecent view for too long, yeah?
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she smiles back at him.
leaning back, she straightens her back, and grabs at his pants. )
It's not indecent.
( because he's not forcing her to be in this situation, and he's not doing anything untoward to her. turning the pants inside out, she finds the rupture in the material, and starts working on repairing it, craning her neck downward to watch her fingers and the stitching.
wanda glances up at him now and then, as she asks, )
What was it like, on the floating restaurant?
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No? Consider me honored.
[ he answers in that quiet playfulness, his smile returning to something brighter, all for her eyes now that she's close enough to see it, even as she begins to devote her attention properly to stitching the pants in her hand.
that light impish tone eases with her question, something brightening in his eyes from her curiosity. ]
Honestly? Kind of a pain in the ass a lot of the time. [ he gives an amused chuckle before he gives a shake of his head to quickly dismiss the description. ] No, it's actually a great place. Really lavish, even though it was run by all kinds of rowdy guys — all of them pirates at one time, with no sense of manners but plenty of drive to learn and get things done. The old man — [ he pauses for a second, exhaling a slight breath as he thinks of zeff, always fighting the memory between both annoyance and fondness. his eyes soften then, looking down to her moving hands. ] Zeff, he took me in when I was a kid, yeah? Owed him my life. It was his dream to make a place that anyone could come to and get a bite to eat. Because the ocean, it's relentless, unforgiving. But no one should ever have to experience starving. And so we built that place up together, him and me, taking care of anyone who came hungry.
[ his lips quirk into a smaller smile, before he gives into a chuckle, looking back up to her. ]
Too bad the menu was shit. Never let me get creative with putting out some better meals. Probably spent more time fighting than cooking.
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she definitely owes him a new pair of pants, though.
as he speaks, too, describes the place, the people in it, pirates, and about this old man 'zeff', the ocean, wanda grazes through his thoughts and unspools images, vivid ones, that come to his mind.
wanda sees, too, a stormy night, pelting rain, feels agonizing hunger and the blistering from the sun's relentless rays—
his chuckling pulls her out of it, stopping entirely what she's doing. that was—a lot, and there's a momentary look of distress in her eyes, but sanji seems to calm, so uncomplicated, right now. whatever that was... he made it out, right?
thankfully, her stomach growls just at that very moment, exchanging her distress with embarrassment. )
—I guess... all this talk about food...
( she's hungry, yeah. )