GHOST PRINCESS.

NEGATIBUHORO. a roleplay sideblog for the character PERŌNA, the ghost princess, from Oda's One Piece. Written by charlie (they/them, 30+). Follows back from resolutepath. gfx: senaedits.

"Horohorohoro.... I'll give you a nightmare!"

sailing with: willofd / kaiheigari / 5564800000 / hanbagi + & clanofd / 4048900000 + & crucifor & inominati...

BONDS. | MEMES. | HCs. | VISAGE.

" would you—braid my hair—? " over the last few months, zuly had been foregoing trimming it, letting the snow-white length grow over time, until now it hung just past their shoulders; since they were children, zuly would often help perōna with her own hair, combing or styling it into pigtails or helping give her curls, but … this was brand new territory for them. " if you don't mind, that is. "

( i got thinking about them as teens and zuly starting to explore her gender and how she'd trust perōna with what she was thinking )

The soft tones in the doorway of her room catch her attention almost immediately, noting the hints of seriousness in Zulyanis' voice. Over the course of visits, she has come to know them well, understands the weight in the words that follow and the anxiety in their stature. And yet when the ask comes, it seems so simple, and yet she cannot deny there's a weight to it still.

Her answer does not come immediately, lips parted without sound as Perona takes time and caution, rare traits for someone who blazes through life with demand and impulse, to answer, almost intrinsically recognising that this moment is meaningful. Her mind words over what she has seen over the course of recent visits. The changes in Zuly with the growing snow-white hair. She knows what it means, perhaps, but even if she doesn't what she does know is Zuly is reaching out tentatively, trusting her with this.

A smile curls on her lips, fingers cradling her chin as her thoughts speed up again. How many years of braiding does she get to return in kind now. A rush of braiding patterns, decorations, final details and designs run through her mind and she squeals with excitement, darting forward to curl her hand around Zuly's tugging them into the confines of her room.

"Of course I don't mind!! I have the perfect style for you... ohhh and I have so many ideas..." Cajouling brings Zuly before her vanity, encouraged to sit as a hairbrush is picked up and wielded like a conductor's stick. "You'll be the cutest when I'm through with you! And anyone who says otherwise will face my hollows!!" She rattles around the desk drawing out hair-ties with little bats attached to the ends as well as a scattering of black and white gems on coils to adorn her head. "I hope you're prepared to sit for a while, I'm making it perfect!" In the mirror, Perona's gaze meets Zuly's own, a softness in it that conveys gratitude for the trust and excitement for the chance to be the one who gets to do this. It feels special to be picked, to be trusted, and she doesn't want to mess this up at all. She'll make Zuly feel beautiful, no expense spared.

A hmph! escapes her, hands on her hips as she pouts in the face of his vicious smirk, trained upon her as he utters the most ridiculous words. She's almost tempted to stomp her feet and would indeed if she did not know that he would only find it even more amusing for it.

"What a ridiculous request!" she huffs, rolling her eyes in his direction, her hollows swirling around, more absent than usual. "Why would I call you that, hm? It's no kind of victory or trophy to wear, and you don't get to tell me what to do!" She huffs again, turning around with a bounce of pink curls, training her gaze over the edge of his ship, giving herself a moment's reprieve from that vicious smirk that definitely doesn't look attractive!! It does, and she hates that it does. She hates that she finds him handsome when he's being arrogant. Except she doesn't. It's maddening. He's maddening.

She can feel his gaze on her, knowing that he's enjoying this moment where she's flustered by his words and unable to respond to him in the way she might like. Feels even more when he steps up behind her, the warmth of his body against hers, surrounding her, drawing that rosy flush to both her cheeks and her hollows. She wants to resist but inevitably sinks back into it, leaning against him even, rolling her eyes.

"Don't think this is me forgiving you for ordering me around! It's just the winter island climate! You should find one more temperate!!"

it's a joint effort affair; mihawk has taken to cooking all sorts of perōna's favorite treats, toiling away undisturbed in the kitchen—even zoro has been lending assistance, whether he means to or not, by going out to explore the island, his poor sense of direction prompting perōna's insistence on going with him lesr he get lost—and, all the while, vápni has been decorating the dining hall, finishing up by stacking the last of perōna's gifts in front of her usual seat. even that makes them pause for a moment, the sort of cognizant realization of how what was once just a chair was now perōna's seat. moments of constancy in what was once a place of transcience have transformed kuraigana in a way they can only feel is for the better.

of the gifts, there is a black leather belt from zulyanis, delivered by riso'pia, hand-crafted with removable attachments such as small pouches for carrying sewing supplies or even a loop to easily carry her umbrella when not in use; a gift of practicality, but with a little ghost and heart pattern carved into the leather to make it more suited to the princess' tastes. beneath it is a rather large yet modestly wrapped wooden box, filled with a set of work boots, gardening gloves, and a general kit of gardening tools; there is a marked simplicity to them all in design, black in color and nondescript, but : that is where the gift just next to it comes in.

finally, the remaining gift from the family is an assortment of craft supplies—not just sewing supplies, as vápni and mihawk had already gotten her, but a means for her to be able to add her flair to whatever she wished; jewels and gemstones and glitter and lace frills, a means to glue them to whatever surface she desired, and much more … in a way, it was a means for perōna to perhaps even more permanently leave her mark upon kuraigana's halls.

as sounds of zoro and perōna's return grows louder, bickering voices echoing across stone, vápni can't help but laugh silently to themself; turning from the gifts, they walk out to the main hall, cutting off the current argument between the two by simply pulling perōna into a hug, holding her tight and offering her a warm squeeze. as they step back, their expression remains soft, signing,

" happy birthday, dear. "

Home is such a strange concept to Perona. Her first home was lost to her early in life; remembering war and bloodshed and torn families, the sound of siblings sobbing, separated by circumstances bigger than either of them and the rush of a saviour scooping her up and shifting her to safety.

Her second home comes then, the eerie, exciting corners of Thriller Bark, her own room and tower and the plushies that surrounded her echoes of a life that she couldn't quite remember. Her every whim was catered for, her devil fruit abilities encouraged, her family strange but present, visited by Vápni and Zulyanis who quickly became her favourites. She remembers ordering others around and hiding out with Celeste or Quinlan when things weren't so good.

And then that warlord with the bear paws had stolen that home from her too.

She'd ended up alone, trapped on an island surrounded by the monstrous-like creatures that wouldn't allow her escape, stuck in a castle that looked lived in but vacant. Nobody present, no songs nor servants, her sobs soon filling the empty halls until he had arrived in a crash and she'd found company in the green-haired swordsman. Together they had occupied the space, soon discovering just who owned these halls and slowly, steadily, she had allowed herself to settle. Things eased when Vápni returned, bringing with them a sense of familiarity that allowed her to drop all barriers and barrel into their arms.

It hadn't taken her long to call this place home too.

Perona knows there's something going on with the bustle around this home, but she hasn't been able to investigate since stupid Zoro wants to go on an adventure. With his sense of direction being so dire, there's no way she can leave him alone, so her day is spent chasing him around the island. Criticisms thrown mask the concerns that linger in her chest as he twists and turns until eventually they are trekking through the castle bickering between one another until they enter the main hall.

And she stops.

Vápni's arms around her have always had that effect, quell the stirring emotions in her chest into silence, offer a comfort she sometimes she doesn't even realise she needs. Even now it brings her a tranquillity she needs, pressure enough to allow her to latch onto the words spoken. When they pull back to sign, she watches closely, eyes widening at the familiar characters.

"You remembered!" Eyes glisten with unshed tears as she throws her arms around them and squeezes tightly, soon pulling back and clapping a hand over her lips soon after. She lets Zoro grouse and wander into the dining hall, only to pop his head back out with a "you're going to want to look in here too.." before he disappears to get himself a refreshment and seek out Mihawk.

Curiosity piqued, Perona winds her hands with Vápni's own and pulls them along into the dining room, only to let out a shriek of joy at the decorations and the stack of gifts before her seat. Her seat in her home. This time the tears stream down her cheeks as the emotions bubble up in her, her hollows swirling with unbridled excitement about having her place here, about feeling loved, about the belonging that clings to her.

She loves this home, this family, very much.

With a quick twist, she turns back to Vápni and leans up to kiss their cheek with gratitude and a soft, earnest '"Thank you..." breathed from her lips that seems to be missing the last word. A title for the parent Vápni has become to her perhaps.

Eventually she lets go and checks out the gifts offered, eyes shining once more when she sees the fine leatherwork from Zuly that she instantly tries on and marvels at the efficiency of it. The detailing is so cute, enough so that she wants to immediately write her sister a letter to gush about it, but holds off when she sees the box. Opening it reveals the gardening gear, and while its a little plain for her tastes, it gets her oddly choked up at being invited into the hobby that she has spent more and more time overseeing as she's acclimatised to the island.

The remaining gift is where he pieces fall into place and she giggles with delight at the range of adornments and supplies that instantly have a surge of creative energy flowing through her. She has so many ideas of things she wants to make and decorate. Her gardening gear is at the top of that list, but also she wants to make a new shirt for each of them, the colours and detailing suiting their tastes, and a new pouch for Zuly to store treats in for Riso'pia, adorned with the flames of her beau.

She looks back up at Vápni and then towards the kitchen where Mihawk emerges, and across to Zoro and finds her hands moving quickly, signing a message, one that repeats once, twice, thrice... "Thank you, my family."

Her hands drop and she begins to dig through the supplies, squealing excitedly as she begins to unearth things and talk about projects aloud, voice rising as her enthusiasm grins, head throwing backwards with a cackle as she threatens to bedazzle Zoro's swords and gets a rude answer back.

It's only when she hears that it is time to eat that she finds it in herself to tidy her space taking the moment to seek Vápni out again for another warm embrace and a soft whisper in their ear. "I don't think I could be happier than I am now." Words spoken softly, but known for their weight, especially as they knew most of the circumstances that she found herself in. She doesn't even yell at Zoro when he touches the box to lift it to the side, instead offering him thanks and letting her be distracted by the aroma of the dishes Mihawk has put together.

Perhaps it truly is third time lucky, for this is a wonderful home.