#todesgeduld

Kid is perched like a gargoyle atop one of the wooden crates lining the dock, the crimson feathers of his cape shifting in the salt breeze, metal arm reattached and adding additional heft to his frame. The shogun of Wano wasn't being frugal with the supplies, and there was still much to load. "Oi. Law." Upon seeing the other captain, he leaps to the dock with a heavy thud. This was really it, wasn't it. The day of departure, when he could leave this hell behind for the open sea. Where their paths would separate.

"Here." He scowls, thrusting two items into the surgeon's hands. One appears to be a small metal box. Inside the other captain would find a pair of metal earrings, formed from scrap that had been expertly bent and polished. The second is a belt, also clearly formed from myriad bits and pieces, but thin and supple. "Killer went and got your polar bear that copy of our poneglyph, since it sounds like the two of you had a nice little heart-to-heart without me and made some decisions." Not that he disagreed with them.

there was a time pudding believed she would never leave the grounds of totto land. not by choice but mostly due to some obscure and ridiculous laws her mother made up - but still in spite of being forced there was some comfort in having the decision made for her. nothing can hurt you when you're confined somewhere built just to make your existence safe until the time comes. but a cage is still a cage no matter what it looks like from the outside.

It had been several days since the Battle of Onigashima. Somehow, it felt like an instant and eternity all at once. His body still hurt like hell, even he couldn't simply shake off the combined damage of two Emperors after such a short time, no matter how much he wished it. Hell, if it wasn't for Trafalgar, he'd probably still be nearly immobile. As it stood, he's still covered in bandages, but that little detail hasn't stopped him from escaping the confines of the room he'd been granted at the castle to prowl through the town.

Trafalgar. That bastard.

His memories of the battle were hazy at best, given that he'd spent the majority of time getting pummeled near to death (by choice), at one point while taking additional damage thanks to that spineless straw bastard, but he'd had plenty of time to mull over his thoughts during his forced recovery. What had gone wrong, and what had gone right. The limits of his own power. The obstacles he'd need to overcome.

There is one thing he remembered with crystal clarity. Trafalgar had been there by his side ever since they'd made it up to the rooftop. The two of them had fought nearly as one, taking hits for each other and giving back as good as they got. He knows full well he'd be dead if the other man hadn't had his back. And it was the same for Trafalgar, no doubt. Big Mom's last desperate gambit, that Misery, had been something else entirely. He still had nightmares about that bitch.

Then there was the aftermath. Broken bones healed by the surgeon's skill and that strange ability. They'd shared some kind of moment there. What kind? He growls under his breath, stalking through the crowded streets of the Flower Capital with a purpose that causes the revelers to part before him. Where is he? He remembers Trafalgar patching him up, remembers trading barbs with him. Remembers waking up leaning against him, the other's dark hair brushing against his neck. Energy temporarily restored, they'd immediately started arguing again before staggering off to rejoin their own crews. But... he couldn't stop thinking about that moment.

Damned if he wasn't going to do something about it.

The Flower Capital is preparing for a festival in honor of Wano's saviors, but the venomous glare he shoots at anyone who dares approach him is more than enough to send them scurrying. He'd given his crew leave to explore the taverns, bathhouses, and other facilities as they pleased, but Kid has yet to allow himself the same leisure. No, he's set a course and there's no force to sway him from it. Turning yet another corner, he spies a familiar, lanky figure.

"Not doin' anything," he responds lazily, kissing further down along the damp skin of his boyfriend's arm as far as he can comfortably reach while the scented water swirls around them. The tub was one of the few luxuries he allowed himself and it was big enough to accommodate him and Killer, so it was more than comfortable for Law, seated between his thighs. He returns his attention to the distinctive-looking scar, twining his fingers with the surgeon's. "It's impressive," he purrs, mouthing along the curve of his shoulder. "Don't know anyone else lucky enough to get sewn back together once they've lost a bit, heh." Certainly, he wasn't so fortunate, not that he had let it stop him.

"how do you even manage to catch a cold," law mutters, looking at kid. "if you don't stay in bed, i'll force you so stop wiggling." his cool hand rests against the redhead's forehead. "no crazy actions for the next few days, you gotta lay down and rest. i'll make you some tea and don't get an idea, i'll shamble you back into it every time." there is a certain firmness mixed with worry. maybe it is just a cold, but that doesn't mean the surgeon isn't worried, that's is occupation after all.

Sick || Accepting

"'m not sick," he protests, a bout of coughing interrupting his flailing attempt to wave away his boyfriend's hand. "Just got somethin' stuck in my throat." He's going to ignore the fact that his head feels like it's going to explode from pressure and his body feels like a lead weight. What a pain in the ass. He's got better things to do then lay here.

"I don't get sick." It's not a complete lie, it doesn't happen very often but when it does it hits him with the force of an Emperor's fist, and he usually locks himself away to suffer and sulk alone. He lets out an exasperated growl, pinching the jagged bridge of his nose. He should be above this kind of shit by now, why does his body have to go and betray him?

A selection of choice booze sits atop the low table, illuminated by the flickering light of a wrought metal candelabra. Sake from Wano, along with wine and whisky, and a few small snacks. Now comfortably bathed, Kid curls lazily around his partner, vermilion locks that still aren't quite dry falling across his face as he rests his head against a cascade of sunny blond. Two pairs of eyes, gold and sapphire, fix on the surgeon expectantly, lit warmly from the candle's glow.

"Are we sure the good doctor actually has a medical license?"

When he awakens, there's still an empty spot on the bed. No doubt his partner has fallen asleep at his desk again. It hasn't happened as much these past few weeks, not now that there's an extra impetus to return to his quarters nightly. Said impetus is currently draped over his chest, tattooed back rising and falling gently as he sleeps. He's never really gotten to spend time alone with the surgeon. The man is a far cry from the wild energy of the Victoria's captain, yet there's an underlying similarity he can't deny.

They both have an aversion to a good night's rest for one, though Law takes it a step further, and he has to wonder if that legend about people from Winter Islands never sleeping has a grain of truth somewhere. He's sleeping now, however, and Killer is careful not to wake him. He'll move eventually, go to drag Kid from where he's likely slumped over, but for now he's content to serve as a pillow.