concoursec | Manly brother bonding times // Backdated forever ago

Entry tags:

one piece: marco

Manly brother bonding times // Backdated forever ago

Characters: Marco & Namur
Location: Wandering
Rating: PG-13 for cursing and piracy and drinking
Open/Closed/Finished: Closed
Summary: Marco needs his sharkbro for all the things. All of them. And likewise with birdbro. NAKAAAAAMA!

After the battle Marco was fairly refreshed all things considered. Maybe napping in the middle of it had been a good idea after all, no matter what anyone said! Still, there were many things weighing on his mind and no longer just the loss of his son. Thatch's return was confusing, albeit a glorious relief, but he wasn't the only brother, and Marco truly wasn't sure whether he hoped Namur hadn't lived through Thatch and Whitebeard's death or not. If he had though, that made Marco captain now and he had every intention of living up to it. He hadn't spent the last three and a half years just having fun and meeting new people. He'd taken as long as he could to deal with the losses for himself and learn new ways to save everyone he could. And that included Namur.

So he sought out his favorite shark-bro commander and waved casually, "Yo. Let's go for a walk, eh? Or a swim and flight if you're inclined. Or fishing." Or all of the above.

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[Whatever Namur was doing, he knew it needed to be put on the back burner. Sure, Marco's tone was casual enough. But if he was just coming around to shoot the breeze he would have wormed his way into Namur's activity, not ask him to do something else. So he straightens, cricks his neck from side to side, and falls into step behind the First Division Commander.]

Met a guy this morning said he had an extra boat. Nothin' fancy, but she's got a sail an' no holes in the bottom.

Eh, really? No foolin' huh?

[Rubs his chin in thought about that.] That's got some possibilities, if you're interested in borrowing her for a bit, eh?

[Well, met might be a vague term, but the man definitely said it was an extra, and that they should get rid of it. Namur turns his head to the left and right, then spins around and starts heading in the opposite direction.]

She's this way. We prob'ly oughta be quick 'bout takin' her out though.

[Just, you know. In case.]

[Grins ear to ear.]

I wouldn't have it any other way.

[BESIDES. If they return it in mostly one piece, none's the wiser, right?]

[So after the pirates cheerfully steal the boat and get her out to sea...]

[Namur kicks back, fitting his dorsal fin in the open wedge of the prow.]

Guessin' y' got somethin' y' wanna say, so say it already, Featherhead. What's got yer tentacles in a twist?

[Marco leans back and looks up at the sky trying to figure out how to start. Evasive, direct? Does he ask about Thatch?]

I guess I've gotten pretty obvious recently here, eh? [Not having Thatch around did that to him. Did Thatch even know how much he spoiled Marco?]

What's the last thing you remember from home? [It was a start, if possibly incredibly cringe-worthy, but at least Namur wasn't so good at hiding everything.]

[Any trace of grin is instantly wiped from Namur's face. Thatch never wanted to talk about it, so he really hadn't, beyond just a bare-bones summary. He swallows hard and looks out at the waves rolling around them.]

Teach. He...

[Damn, it ain't supposed to hurt this much still. There was something comforting about knowing what he said would be met with instant denial, sometimes violent denial, and he could just deal out his frustration, rage, and pain with his fists. They tense up out of habit, in fact. But these are unknown waters, and as soon as Namur notices what he's done, he unclenches them. He leans forward, sitting up with his legs crossed.]

He took the Old Man's Ability, an' started this bigass earthquake. I mean, damn thing was huge. Thought he'd tried t' bury us alive, all in one shot. Turns out, it was jus' me. Thatch found me up north, an' we been in that damn iceberg ever since.

Edited (muse said it needed 20% more swears... orz) 2013-07-05 00:33 (UTC)

You're not dead. [Runs a hand through his hair and lets out a breath.] Not yet. Pops ordered me to get you all out alive, so I did my best. Shanks came and ended the war and helped us bury him and Ace though.

[He carefully shifts and gives his brother a hug.] Jozu lost an arm, but we saved the rest of him.

Damn. Nosy red-headed bastard. Guess we owe him one now.

[Namur's quiet a moment. Jozu's lucky. There were a lot that lost a lot more than an arm. Too many. What happened to them? They could have filled an entire ship with just their dead. Namur digs his palms into his eyes.]

Oughta be callin' y' Captain from now on, I guess.

Aye, we do. But just one. [Because Shanks was still a pain. Just a good one. A friendly one in spite of it all.]

[And Marco just barely avoids flinching at that, though he grabs a seat back down and his eyes are downcast.] Ah, no. That's not necessary. Especially not here. Pops came back once, and with time all mixed up...

But I'll still try to do my best to lead you safely... if you'll have me. As a big brother, eh? [Reaches out and ruffles Namur's head.]

And I have been trying to learn everything I can here to help back home, eh. Just in case.

[Namur nods, then glares in annoyance at the hair ruffling. He is not some little squirt that's gonna feel special just from that. Except maybe a tiny bit. But this is Marco, so he can get away with snapping his teeth a little, and does, aiming for the patronizing hand on his head.]

Either way, Captain or First, I'll follow y'.

[Grins and tugs on a cheek, heedless of the rough sandpaper feel thanks to being sharkskin.] And just who are you trying to bite there? Your captain? [Ruffle attack with love!!]

[If Marco wants to play this game in a tiny, rocking boat out at sea, Namur won't say no. He takes the impact with a muted "oof!", then kicks Marco back and pounces, determined to get a few good hair ruffles in of his own.]

My damn immortal self-healin' bro. Wouldn't do it if I thought y' couldn't take it.

[A laugh and okay fine, you might get his hair ruffled, but if you aren't careful, he will tickle under your chin and pet your cheeks.]

Damn right, eh? [Another laugh and he leans back, offering a fist up as a fist-bump.] Okay, so how much do you think Thatch knows about all that though, eh? [Serious mode, because it needs to happen eventually, and if left to his own devices, Namur would never stop wrestling.]

[Killjoy. :|]

[Namur scowls.]

Shit, bro. Even I know I got a big mouth. Y' think I could go right from watchin' that bastard steal the Old Man's Devil Fruit t' meetin' Thatch right in front a my face an' not say somethin'?

He don't believe it. Guess it makes sense. Here I come tellin' him he's been dead, while he's jus' been livin' here 'stead a there.

[Sigh.]

Rattled him up, though. Whatever Teach did t' him 'fore he died, it hit him deeper'n knife cuts. He does this... thing now. Used t' be real bad but it's got better. Like he's scared a me sometimes. Gets scared a other people too, but mostly me. Don't make any damn sense, since he always kicks my ass whenever we scuffle. But I guess he could kick Teach's ass too, an' that didn't make any difference in the end...

Panic attacks. Aye, he had one around me.

[Frowns and rubs his chin and the lightly punches Numur's cheek to make him feel better.]

So he knows and he's just been -- [Hand over his eyes, though his other hand goes up to block presumably Namur's return attack.] Oi.

All right, all right, I'll deal with it. [Rubs the back of his neck.] Shit.

Hey. When he was in Trabia did he go out much? Drinking, partying, girls, you know like himself?

Drinkin' yeah. Drinkin's 'bout all he'd ever do. Tried t' kick his ass a couple times fer bein' such a shitface, but he's too damn good fer me. He'd come out a it fer a bit though, an' that's what it was all about anyway, so I guess it's the thought that counted.

[Namur turns sideways and kicks his feet over the side, drapes his arms over the other. The boat is small enough and low enough to the water that he can trail all four limbs in the waves.]

Mostly stayed in, though. 'Specially if there was partyin'. He'd still check out the girls but never tried nothin'. He's doin' more a that here than he ever did there.

Edited 2013-07-11 15:18 (UTC)

He's doing... better here?

Shit bro... I'm sorry. You had to deal with that alone?

Sheheheh! Scary, huh?

[He shrugs, a bit awkward considering his position.]

If there was anyone else they'd a come with us. It's okay though. Least he was there, y' know?

[Nods his head solemnly.]

Still, talk about some messed up timing, eh? [You still get more hugs. MAMA BIRD WILL MAKE IT BETTER. D:<]

All right, so what are you impressions of Espio and them?

An' them? Y' mean Espio 'n' Grell.

[Hug away, Featherhead. Namur might even bring one of his arms back into the boat so he can return it.]

Shit, I don't know nothin' 'bout 'em. Grell creeps the shit out a me, an' it ain't the whole dudemaid thing.

[He sits up just a little, suddenly, as if he just remembered something. Then he pokes Marco in the forehead.]

Thanks fer warnin' me 'bout that, by the way. Totally didn' make a complete ass a myself when I tasted her the first time.

[Grins ear to ear.] I'll bet.

And you're welcome, eh.

[He tilts his head, thinking it all over.] Grell's a little messed up, but she's nothing like Teach, I can promise you that. She's been betrayed enough herself in the past. Her job, which makes her a little immortal, requires her to deal with a lot of death, so I guess that makes her like me. But she has a thing for blood and biting, so you two might actually get along over that.

Her dream was the same as Pops' though. But in her world, adoption wasn't really an option. I'm pretty hesitant to adopt kids myself, because I don't want to outlive them, but there was one kid that won me over. Toby. He was like Ace but without any of rage issues or snark.

We lost him recently, and I know Grell's still really shook up about it. [Distant look.] Especially since I'm the one who told her to trust him, eh?

[A small sigh and he ruffles Namur's hair again.] You're probably getting some of the immortality vibes, eh? But more than anything, all she ever wanted was a family.

And Espio... [A small laugh.] He probably heard almost as many stories about you, Thatch, and the rest of crew from me as we have about Luffy from Ace. Well almost, eh.

Sorry, eh? [A small frown.] I know it's a lot to throw you into.

[Namur opens his mouth to talk a number of times while Marco hurries on, until finally he sighs a little and gives up. When Marco finally finishes, there's a long pause, while Namur waits to see if he's actually done. Then he chuckles.]

Yeah, well. 'S how it always is, ain't it? If it ain't deep it ain't worth jumpin' inta the water.

Weird though, seein' 'em wearin' the Old Man's mark. Seems like they're yours more'n his, y' know?

[A blink. His? He hadn't thought of it like that.] You think so?

[He furrows his brow though. Wasn't Grell's dream the same as Whitebeard's? Wasn't Espio like one of the lost boys, like them? The only reason Marco brought them in was because Pops wasn't here long enough to do it himself. Still...]

When I was doing tattoos, Grell asked me for one, because she'd gone home with me, and met him. She had the same reaction as me the first time I met Pops. [Wonder and instant adoration. He'd put a single finger on her head and all her animosity melted away.] Ah...

[Rubs his face. One of his. Right. He was captain now, wasn't he? He kept telling himself he'd become more like Whitebeard himself in this world, more of a captain, less of a first mate. He'd given himself far more extra time, so had he made any progress? Half of it just seemed to be an uphill battle not to slip into old habits. Harder without his brothers around, but with only himself to look after.]

I suppose you're right, eh. I'll have to fix that then. [A distant look. A new era. No more twilight. He would have to really step up into the new era. One where Whitebeard was no longer the strongest man in the world. But at least he still had extra time for it here. More time to adjust and deal with the situation rather than back home where he had to fight wars on fifteen fronts.]

Any suggestions? [Though he already has some idea.]

[Namur shrugs again, resting a hand just over his hip where he'd had Whitebeard's mark inked into his own skin. He hadn't been sure if he really wanted it at the time he'd had it done. Now, he wished he could plaster it large and proud, somewhere the whole world could see. He'd done it with the number of his Division though, and that would have to be good enough, since a man's only got so much face he can cover before he starts looking like a dumbass, and there's a reason he wears long sleeved shirts.]

I dunno. Mark 'em yerself makes most sense. Or were y' talkin' 'bout designin' one fer y'? Y'd have t' think 'bout it, I guess. Don't wanna pick somethin' stupid an' change yer mind a few years later. Sheheheh.

I had a few ideas for back home, just in case.

You know how I am, eh? I always try to have eighteen plans navigated. Just in case, eh.

You want to be the first to draw it?

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Manly brother bonding times // Backdated forever ago

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lol oh Namur

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