high_seas | Manly Drinking Times

Entry tags:

Manly Drinking Times

Who: Marco, Thatch, Logan, Namur, Roxas, Vyse, Chandra, Natsuno, and anyone else who wants in on this drinking game
Where: The Sun! And the Moon! And all the ships in between
When: Sunday May 4th, pursuant to this hilarity
What: MANLY DRINKING TIMES
Warnings: Ehhhhh ARRRRR For Rum. And drinking. And war. And fuck who knows what else, remind me to update if needed.
Status: OPEN!!!

Marco quickly set up a couple of kegs at the ready for the drinking party. Because it was just plain necessary, and a lot like old times. The last two weeks were still weighing on Marco's mind. War, Peace, phoenixes. Was it a good idea to really enjoy war so much? Was it a bad one? Maybe it was inevitable, so he might as well enjoy it. Like life, right? Or should he not encourage it just because it was amusing?

It was too much of a headache, that's why he was just going to drink.

He also set up some non-alcoholic drinks for Leanne and everyone else. Green tea, fruit juices, but they were all clearly marked.

Marco gave a quick piercing whistle. "OI SPADES! Roll call and drinking games!"

And maybe drunk board games, he would blame that on Ace though.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yosh," Marco beamed ear to ear and performed a few tricks with the unstacking process.

Never let it be said that Marco wasn't a show off whenever inhumanly possible.

"Show off." He grinned and started to pour as the cups became available to him. "Save your strutting for someone who isn't already impressed, aye? Or at least be a little more flashy about it."

Marco laughed and switched into phoenix form to flit over to Thatch's shoulders.

"Such as doing all that as a bird?"

"If you think you can." He turned his head to nuzzle Marco's side and take a bite at his wing. Then remembered himself and got back to pouring. "What's the occasion or does there need to be one?"

Marco laughed and covered Thatch's face with a wing to let Thatch hide and do whatever he wanted.

"Does there need to be?"

Marco mockingly parroted in chirps and tilted his head before nuzzling his head to one of Thatch's ears affectionately. Out in the open or not, Marco truly didn't give a damn.

"The war Grell declared on Sinewave. I think it's worth watching, and the kids need more introduction to drinking and the pirate life."

"Aye, I suppose that's good enough reason." He gently pushed the wing away. Public or not didn't matter but if he was feeling these compulsions it was better to step back. This was a dangerous place and the situation was too complicated for it. He wouldn't complicate it further or interfere more than he was able to stop himself.

"I don't think it'll be much of a war. Grell will kill them where they stand if she has half the chance." From what he's heard he doesn't have much faith in that crew to accomplish much of anything.

Marco nipped Thatch's ear once before hopping back off his shoulder to help set up drinks and switched into human form.

"Oh, I'm sure, but Grell plays with her victims first. Besides, I think she likes Akira, and he can regenerate almost as well as me, eh?" a sly smirk. "It's not a matter of who will win but--"

Marco's expression dropped entirely.

He was doing it again.

Reveling in war. Of any kind. Finding it fun. A part of him he couldn't escape. He didn't even know if he should want to.

More than ever he wished Whitebeard was there to ask.

He wanted to tell Thatch something. But he wasn't about to begin to tell him all those concerns. Those things would only weigh Thatch down more. Instead he fiercely grabbed Thatch's ear and put his brother in a half-nelson to mockingly whisper in it, "But how well they last."

No good.

It still made him feel sick somehow.

He let go and walked away to lean on the railing and light up a cigarette.

It didn't used to bother him. Watching rookies fall like leaves on an Autumn island. Or maybe it did, and he hadn't noticed because he didn't want to. It didn't bother him now either. It was the fact that it didn't bother him that bothered him, right? Something like that.

No.

It was enjoying war. He didn't enjoy war. And yet he did. Maybe he could choose whether to enjoy it or not. But he couldn't choose whether it would be there or not. It would no matter whether Marco liked it or hated it. And what would it matter if he liked it or not? What effect would it have on him? Or was it just a matter of how other people would see him? People like Thatch and Ace and the crew, and the allies, and their enemies. All like Roxas and his differing reactions to Marco the first mate, and Xifer the bird.

He was walking the line of twilight again. Love, hate, war, peace. Peace was just the periods of rest and breathing between the chaos and fight of war.

Tch.

Aye he figured as much about Grell. Not to say that he approved as there was revenge and there was torture. But maybe the girl and her crew would learn a lesson from it about opening their mouths too wide and squawking when they weren't prepared to face the consequences. Or maybe it would break them. Marco's words whispered in his ear made a chill go through him, but he smiled, thinking of shoving him playfully away, only he didn't have to. Marco left by himself. Standing with a lit cigarette, looking over the water.

Thatch finished his work, filling the cups, giving himself time to think and went to stand beside him, resting his hands on the railing and looking out over the sea. It was hard to guess what he was thinking. Hard to guess where his mind was. He knew in a sense but there were complexities to it. Reasons so deep not even Marco could dig them out, no matter how sharp his talons.

He knew Marco always saw himself as something apart. More beast than man. Phoenix. Slipping in between twilight. Herald for change. Out of all of them he had seen the most. He had done the most. Had fought a war and-- Thatch's throat tightened. Had lost it. Ace. Pops. Himself. That was still a little hard to deal with but he accepted it for now, buried it again.

"Where are you, Marco?" He reached up and traced a line on the bare skin above Marco's ear with his fingertips.

"Don't know," Marco answered without even thinking, and nearly cursed himself for replying so easily. The months without Thatch had messed him up more than he realized sometimes. It was like a sheen of him had been shaved away. He'd gotten used to trying to imagine Thatch by his side again, had gotten used to the loneliness of not having his brother by his side, and there hadn't been any need to hide things, because without Thatch no one else dared to ask.

He reached up a hand and tugged Thatch by neckerchief to sit down beside him.

He still didn't have words to explain the thoughts though. What was Mars? What was war? War was necessary, but terrible. How could he enjoy it? Life was terrible. Maybe everything was terrible and good and it was all so abstract he had trouble figuring it out.

It was probably weird to think of oneself as being born for war, right? But Marco didn't consider he was born for that. He was born to protect his family. Plain and simple. So why was it so confusing?

How had their Pops been able to protect them with peace so often? What was the secret? Strength? Marco would never be that strong, and the acknowledgement of that ate at him. Maybe peace was stronger. It was harder. Maybe that was why part of him craved it. And part of him feared it.

Marco carefully took a drink and watched the waves. He had to ask Thatch a question, but he wanted it to be the right one. The right words. Was Robin his Aphrodite? Did Mars have anything to do with him? Even coincidentally. What did it matter? What did it all mean? He wrapped an arm around Thatch's shoulders in an inescapably tight hug.

He was born to protect his family. So they had a chance. A slim chance, but still a chance. But then what did it mean for the ones like Thatch? The ones he couldn't protect? He had revenge, but was it enough? He still hadn't been able to get revenge for Thatch, or Ace, or his Pops.

He wasn't worried about being too violent. He wasn't worried about being too destructive, or too dark, or even wrong. But he didn't want regrets. Would embracing the inevitable wars become something he'd regret? Would it change him? He was changing anyway. And he was scared Thatch would hate it. Maybe he should run, but there was nowhere to go to. Wars would be everywhere, and even on Leanne's island, he could still feel the struggle and death no one else saw.

"Where do you want me to be?"

It was the right question, and it wasn't. Just like everything else. A twilight in between.

He pulled Marco's head against his shoulder, lightly running his fingertips over the bare skin beside his hair. To give sensation. Comfort. But to keep him alert. It was an intimate touch and part of him wanted to fan the sparks inside him that were glowing dimly and had been.

"I'm not the captain, darling. I'm not even the navigator. Where you go, I follow but I can't tell you where that should be." He pushed his fingers through the soft ridiculous beautiful fronds of hair. He wanted to wash it, soon. Also Maybe shave the sides clean where some faint stubble was growing.

He let the silence seep in. Listening to the waves. Emptying his mind and letting things come to him gradually. If you learned how to listen, someone had told him once, you could hear the world. They hadn't known about observation haki and his wasn't the best but he let it coil around him, feeling the people on board, brushing against Marco's senses like a wing beat.

"Pops told me that when someone close to your heart dies, your life changes course."

Even when they are only so close to your heart because that's where you hate them the most. Hearts are funny like that. Vengeance is funny like that. But when you love them, it's so much more devastating.

When it is your commander...your nakama... how many floundering second division men did he have to comfort before Ace was even on the picture? How many had stared numb out at the sea? Ironically Marshall had helped him. He'd counted on the man's sturdy spirit to get the second division back in shape, to raise their spirits, set them a course. No one had stepped up to lead, though. No one had dared. Their love was too strong. ...And then Ace had barreled into their lives and the second division had fallen in love. Who wouldn't?

"Right now I think we're all changing course. Mourning. Flying against the wind." You could mourn your own death it seemed. The life you left behind. Trying to carve out a new future. How much harder for Marco who was in two places at once?

"But time heals, aye? Like that song you hate." Though mostly because of Red-hair but he was an obnoxious bastard as much as Thatch had an odd kind of fondness for him. "Just hold out, without a doubt, the sun will surely rise."

Marco turned to the side and wrapped his arms around Thatch in a tight hug before shifting them fully to wings to make for an even bigger hug. To shield him against the world. So it was just them two again. Them against the world.

"I still want to avenge you," Marco sang softly, blocked out from the wind, before switching back to human, "Isn't that strange? You're here with me now, yet I'm still even more angry about you than anything else." His eyes were clouding over and he wanted to tackle Thatch in a hug, and then punch him for leaving him, but mostly he just wanted to kill Teach. Not even torture, because there was nothing that would ever be enough. Just end him. "It's not fair. And that's so childish, and I don't care. It's not fair. And I'm jealous, yoi." He switched into phoenix again. "I'm jealous that Ace got to chase Teach, and I'm jealous that that I was such a coward, and I'm jealous that I have to let you out of my sight for days at a time and I hate you for not letting me be the same as you."

Marco buried his face into Thatch's shoulder and just tried not to cry, or feel too much of anything other than Thatch there with him. "You're such a bastard, yoi," he mumbled hazily and still refused to let go. He vaguely tried to bite Thatch's shoulder, and grabbed it in his teeth, finally realizing that he was trying to peck Thatch in punishment without a beak before he gave up. And then bit him again for good measure. "Hate you. And love you. Mostly love you. Stupid." He slumped against him, still leaving his arms as wings.

"Don't be stupid." There was so much going on with Marco and it was good in a way. Thatch could focus on him. Unknot the problems of his life which were so much easier. It was familiar and not and he felt sheltered underneath the flickering wings, but protective. It was the dynamic they always had together.

"You still have a chance, don't you? Time hasn't stopped for you there. You can go do what you have to and what you want. Because that's what a pirate leader does." And that was why the crew followed, for a chance to chase their own dreams across the wild blue. "And you have us here where you don't there. Live in the future, songbird. Live without regret. The past is done and you can only change tomorrow."

He bit the skin of Marco's head in retaliation and whistled:

Love you, too

Nope, that was it. Fuck everything.

Marco broke down crying. "Then I'll keep you here and change tomorrow." He tackled Thatch and clung to him, buried his face in the other man's chest and bawled. "And I'm not letting you be a planeswalker with Chandra without me damn it!" Stupid Thatch thinking he could have adventures without Marco. Who the hell did he think he was? Arrogant brat. Marco haphazardly bit Thatch again and lightly 'punched' him with a wing. "If she can summon other phoenixes, she can summon me, because I say so damn it." More crying.

Everything was stupid and mixed up, and he hated it. It felt better though. Some of the anger was finally receding, like high tide just starting to go back out to sea.

Marco impetuously covered Thatch in sparkles and leaned the top of his head to Thatch's chest again. He did feel a little better now. "I wish I could bring the others here for you," he whistled quietly. That had really been eating at him. It was too confusing. If he wasn't happy, it wasn't what the other sixteen hundred would have wanted. But if he just selfishly tried to enjoy it all to himself, it felt wrong too.

Thatch was... so lost. He wasn't sure what the hell Marco was talking about but it didn't matter. He was crying and that was probably a good thing to get out. If he held it in too long it would only eat at him and twist him darker. He had to stay in the twilight where he belonged. Thatch chuckled softly, interrupted by the wing punch to the face. He shook his head at the sparkles, threading some with his fingers into his pompadour, then held Marco close, rubbing a hand along his back.

"Don't worry about me. As long as I have you, I'll be fine. Just focus on yourself, yoi. Relax."

When had Marco ever done that really? A grand total of probably never. But Thatch said it anyway, letting Marco know he'd be here for as long as he could.

Marco shifted into full phoenix form and curled up on Thatch's chest in a small poofball, claiming his favorite person to sprawl out on.

He'd really really really missed Thatch. More than words could describe. And Thatch was here. And Marco wasn't as numb anymore. He'd been able to go five days without making sure every day that the man was still alive, so he was finally getting over that fear, but it was still a backwards adjustment. He couldn't go backwards, he didn't have the processing for it. And it was better like this anyway. Thatch with a devil fruit and them together, and sailing, and Ace as captain.

"I can't focus on myself," Marco snuggled against Thatch more, determined to forcibly keep him there. "It'd drive me crazy, yoi." He idly plucked at Thatch's clothes with his beak and let his mind slowly stop racing so much. He'd been so frustrated, for so long, and it was exhausting. And he still wanted to kidnap Thatch and never give him back. Which really didn't make sense, since he was pretty sure he'd already done that ages ago. "Thatch, promise me I can kill the next person who even hurts you a little?"

He cradled the little poof ball of phoenix against his chest, trying to soothe his ruffled feathers. He couldn't even really remember what brought all this on but maybe it was a culmination of everything that had gone on in the past week. Ultimately it didn't matter. He made soothing chirping sounds at him.

He'd focus on Marco for him, then, even though it was something he'd done since the moment he'd gotten there. He watched Marco pluck at his clothes and then scratched under his chin.

"No. Things are too complicated here for that. Behave, pretty bird."

"I don't want to behave," Marco sulked, plucked at the threads some more, and leaned up his neck to let Thatch pet him, although he was tempted to nip at the man's fingers. "You're mine so only I should be allowed to hurt you. And maybe Ace." He rolled onto his back and sprawled his head over Thatch's shoulder, looking up at the sky, and searching for the first sign of a star in the darker night sky. "Hello sky," he crooned quietly and possessively bit Thatch's ear. Only he should be allowed to hurt Thatch damn it. So there.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Manly Drinking Times

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

2/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject