#peroceanum

[gumpistol]

@per-oceanum / [ continued. ]

    he didn't mean to say that out loud, the observation slipping through lips without even realizing it. oh well. the straw hat is squatted next to the former warlord, dilated pupils fixed on the open wound. but his wide gaze darts away from its brief fixation and to the man's face as the irritated tone cuts through. luffy's eyebrows crease into an equally annoyed scowl. his hand finally drops from his face, and an unknown fleck of something is flicked away from the surface of his fingertip. 

    ❝ yeah, yeah — whatever, meanie. ❞ despite aggravation in his tone, luffy tries to help anyway, almost immediately reaching to untie the yellow sash fixed around his waist. as he fumbles with the knot, the tip of his tongue starts to barely stick from the corner of his mouth. now he's focused.

    ❝ ehe, when did you get so weak? ❞ the young captain comments bluntly and without care again as the piece of cloth is finally freed. his expression has already softened once more, to one of casual amusement. the sash is haphazardly balled up in his grasp, then he shifts to face the wounded arm. but luffy pauses, bringing his attention back to crocodile's face with a piercing and intense stare. 

   ❝ must be because you're old. ❞ without warning, the yellow cloth is pressed firmly against the gash. 

#peroceanum #❝ screw the plan ❞ — ic #verse tbd. #he's really not pulling the punches here #luffy vc: can't believe i lost to this guy once yuck

[seaoftales]

ㅤ⠀❝Buon compleanno, Dracule.❞

ㅤ⠀Only to Mihawk, however. Shanks gets nothing from Crocodile.

❝ Grazie, Elio, ❞ he said as he shoved Shanks to the side, relishing in the fact that the spotlight was all his.

#peroceanum #【 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞: dracule mihawk 】 #mihawk birthday weekend 2024 #// okay but mihawk speaking spanish and picking up some italian from elio in the cross guild timeline

[aamaranthiine]

( @per-oceanum from here )

She doesnt like blood. Her face is pinched with something close to discomfort and perhaps regret, even if deep down some wilder instinct preened at having dealt justice to those deserving. That particular aspect goes ignored, shoved beneath the unflappable layers of her docility. Even if she had given the poachers a chance, would have left them breathing even, circumstances had forced her hand.

"Were it mine, I would have been carried in here, rather than walked of my own volition." Thea agrees mildly, already peeling the outermost robes off before Crocodile has left to retrieve new garments. The minutes left alone have her brooding, throat thick from the taste of iron in the air and the conflict of her nature. On the floor is the pile of stained linens, leaving her in the simple base garments and the holsters that bear the twin daggers she typically carries. These all were at least clean.

Violet gaze drawn to the warlord's return, silent steps to where he had laid the towels and a clean robe. "I gave them their rites and buried them," she sounds distant, wiping crimson off her face and arms. She'd need a bath to wash the spatters out of her white hair. "Thank you," not forgetting her manners, "and sorry for the mess. Dont expect it to be a regular thing." Cartographers had no place causing trouble..

#☪v: seafoam dreams #peroceanum #/red on white looks so pretty tho #/also hope you dont mind a lil response

[seaoftales]

@per-oceanum sent:

ㅤ⠀Meetings of the Warlords was never an occasion to truly celebrate, even if the World Government attempted to pose it as such. Though the catering was nice, that was something Crocodile couldn’t argue with. Even so, being in a room with such… Individuals, it grated upon his nerves. The moment it ended, he’d slipped out to the balcony, enjoying the peace- that never seemed to last long, given the sound of boots tapping against the concrete of the balcony flooring. 

ㅤ⠀❝Still keeping busy, it seems. They have nothing but praise for you, Mihawk. Then again, given your history…❞

ㅤ⠀An amused chuckle escaped him as he cupped a match between his fingers, striking it against the railing to light it. Flame to foot; a few short pulls before the end burned cherry red. 

ㅤ⠀❝It’s no surprise they try to keep you happy.❞

❝ Is it praise for the sake of praising me or simply praise out of fear of what I might do? ❞

The question slipped from his lips as the swordsman drew closer to his fellow esteemed Warlord colleague, one of the ones whose presence didn't necessarily reek of egoism blown out of proportion. The same couldn't have been said for a certain pink feather coat wearing individual and the snake princess, which was why he removed himself to the balcony as soon as the Warlord meeting was finished. He'd rather depart later than have to be in their presence any longer.

Crossing his arms as he leaned against the railing, Mihawk turned his head to look properly at Crocodile. He wasn't wrong. The Marines did try to keep him happy in being way more lenient when it came to him occasionally taking out one or the other entire pirate crew, though of course, he'd very much rather take down one or the other Marine outpost instead.

❝ I doubt I'm the only one they're trying to keep happy. We're Warlords for a reason. It's better to keep us happy and within their reach than have us as enemies. ❞

#peroceanum #【 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞: dracule mihawk 】 #// thank you for this!

[aamaranthiine]

ㅤ⠀Dealing with the rabble in the streets of Alabsta’s cities kept a man on his toes. The safety of the country for his title as a Warlord; that had been the deal when he’d settled here. After all, given the abilities of his Devil Fruit, a desert biome would be the place that he felt most at home. The winds calmed across the city of Rainbase, sand settling across the ground once more-

ㅤ⠀And the small group of wannabe pirates, startups that were nothing more than a dime a dozen who’d attempted to cause trouble, seemingly having vanished into thin air.

ㅤ⠀[ Buried in the sand beneath their feet, hundreds of feet deep; drained of moisture and life. ]

ㅤ⠀Crocodile sighed as the streets filled with civilians once more, though his attention was drawn to one such traveler, who was staring rather hard at the bag he held within his hand- taken from one such pirate.

ㅤ⠀❝I believe this belongs to you, no?❞

ㅤ⠀Casual- as if she were not the one he'd been looking for.

The air is hot and arid, stinging a dry throat when inhaled too deeply. The taste of sunlight and sand on her tongue, scorching, such a contrast to the loamy softness of fertile earth and new flowers that she prefers. Yet the sprawling desert kingdom of Alabasta is where she wanders now, at least for however long it takes for her to uncover whatever it is she searches for.

Wrapped in linen layers to guard against the harsh daylight from head to toe, patterned fabrics depicting a lush oasis rife with wildlife. Just like any other local at first glance, prowling the market with the flow of a crowd. Amalthea admittedly hadnt been paying too close attention when a ragtag group of pirates threw themselves into the streets.

She'd been jostled and someone, one of the ruffians, had cut the strap of her travelers bag to loose it from her person. Startled and then offended at such brazen theft, she'd pursued them, heedless of the panicked cries of the other civilians as they sought safety indoors.

However she had intended to retrieve her belongings isnt even clear to herself, but it didnt matter. The sand stirred, agitated, rippling like the waves of the ocean itself. A cloud kicked up to obscure one's sight and then clearing; the pirates vanished entirely. Replaced instead by the broad shape of a man, almost lavish in his bearing, and holding the straps of her satchel.

Her senses prickle, like sand trickling over exposed skin, "It does," reaching out to take the item and hold it close. She would have been very upset to lose her surveying tools and other supplies. "You have my gratitude, Sir..?" Trailing off, polite and curious.

#peroceanum #☪v: seafoam dreams #t: in the sleeping sands