I imagined Regis or Cor or anyone from the Citadel asking Drautos if he knew about the Conqueror going to Galahd, and. Drautos would say no. Because he didn't know.
And for the Insomnians that's reasonable, this happened centuries ago, not everyone is interested in history, for all they know the fleet never made it to the islands.
Except Drautos is pretending to be one of Galahkari. One of the people who hold grudges like it's a national sport and discuss historical events like it's yesterday gossip. Whichever Glaive was nearby to hear this would realise that the Captain is being honest about not knowing - and that he's definitely lying about his past.
Axis did not want to be here. His youngest was sick again and had both him and Librita up for most of the night. Thank the spirits for his wife's ability to work from home. Otherwise one of them would have had to quit their job a long time ago.
He supressed a yawn and did his best to ignore Captain Drautos, who was doing some sword drills not too far away from him. Blearily blinking down at the clipboard in his hands, Axis distantly wondered which style of pildura the Captain would prefer. Gekkan maybe? Certainly not puhna. He shook his head. This was not the time to think about it. If he could get his work done in a timely manner, maybe he would be able to go home sooner and help his wife look after Isoro.
Crouching down to inspect the damage done to the stone wall of the training ground, Axis nearly missed the Lord fucking Marshal himself approaching. Suddenly he was wide awake, tracking the man's movements out od the corner of his eyes, while trying to look like he was still concentrating on his work.
"Titus, a word please," the Marshal said once the Captain had stopped his current moveset.
"Has there been an attack?" There was an undercurrent to that question Axis couldn't place.
"No," the Marshal said and something within Axis relaxed. "Regis, Clarus and I are just curious about something."
By the spirits, Axis had never heard the Marshal say so many words in a row.
Captain Drautos rolled his shoulders and sheathed his sword, stance relaxing. Axis couldn't see his expression, but for someone who often insinuated that the King and his men didn't really care for the Glaive beyond their capabilities to be a meat shield, his everything seemed awefully friendly.
"If this is about Shield Hearts again, the answer is still no."
Axis nearly did a double take. Like, what? What by Pitioss was Shield Hearts? The Marshal honest to the spirits snorted. Axis noted down the need for five new stones for this section of the wall and started to search for non-existant cracks in dirt floor.
"Clarus still hasn't given up on it, but no. Do you know about the diary they found not too long ago?"
"The one that mentions the Conqueror? Hard not to have heard about it."
"We were wondering if you know something about it. Do you Galahdians have any records about it? It would be interesting to know if the Conqueror really made it to Galahd or not."
Now Axis wasn't even pretending to work. What would the Captain say? Would he actually tell this outsider the story? Hopefully not. He chanced a look at the two men. Captain Drautos looked contemplative.
"I'm sorry," he said, and if not for his next words, Axis would have sighed in relief. "I don't know anything about that. This was also the first time I heard about it. And with Galahd's conquest I don't know if any records survived."
"I see. What a pity."
Fuck. The Captain was serious. He was actually serious about this. He did not know. How could he not know? Every Galahkar grew up hearing about the Black Ships, the attempted conquest and the murder of Perses Ulric.
What the fuck?
He scribbled something on his clipboard - he had no idea what - and marched out of the training ground as inconspicuously as possible. He needed to talk to Luche.
22 notes
·
View notes
Prompt 262
Pondering Ghosts are Dragons, and just rotating each design in my head I have for them. That is the ghosts we see in the show more than just once or twice lol. Just pondering each of them and potential types and descriptions and how the people of Amity see them, as they’re used to the dragons around, vs say someone from Outside, crossover or no, who are Not used to the maybe slightly eldritch undeath interdimensional dragons around everywhere.
That is not normal for other people.
To the Amity Parkers? Boxy is simply a chonky dragon with small boxy wings and covered in blue scales. To people just coming into the city, it’s like seeing a giant komodo dragon when you’re just walking home- not something you exactly want to see and something that is dangerous.
Kitty’s and Johnny’s weekly relationship tussle? Par for the course really. But to visitors? Two giant wyverns tearing into each other, shimmering greens that could be scales, could be tendrils, and shadows lengthening and thrashing like a living beast all its own.
And this is just the small dragonlings, not even beginning with larger ones like Pandora and Fright Knight, chill as they may be.
Outsiders don’t understand that they’re more than just animals. Amity is used to this, but people who have no clue what’s going on? They don’t.
They call the police, the heroes, the government, for help, for answers. And that? That the GIW can use.
312 notes
·
View notes
thinking about zoro noticing sanji being more restless at dinner one night. he’s imperceptibly frazzled, perfect suit a little less put together, tie looser around his neck and carrying a barely-noticeable tremble in his fingertips that isn’t usually there. zoro’s noticed him eyeing the bottle of sherry on the countertop whether he himself realises it or not, and the realisation dawns on zoro that the damn cook needs a break.
he of all people knows how sanji pushes himself too far— maybe not physically, but he will blatantly ignore burnout and mental fatigue until it eats away at him enough that he’s forced to stop, whether by the crew’s efforts or his own oft-disregarded limitations. it’s a form of undeserved self-flagellation that makes zoro want to punch a wall but sanji can’t know he cares, no, because 1. the cook won’t take well to being “mothered” (cue zoro’s eye roll) and 2. they’re supposed to be rivals. hello.
so after dinner he tidies the galley to sanji’s exact specifications (which he just,,, happens to have memorised, alright, stop making a big deal out of it. he knows all his nakama’s routines. shut up.) and finds the cook on the deck, liquor in hand, telling him that luffy had asked him to. he snags the sherry from sanji’s slender fingers so that the cook doesn’t drink too much too fast. he feels sanji struggle with words and leaves the space around them empty so that the cook can fill it as and when he sees fit.
it’s the least that zoro can do, he thinks. holding space for someone he cares about because he’s never been good enough with words to fill it himself, but sanji’s never seemed bothered.
zoro lets slip something that he doesn’t think about, the words natural as breathing, tries not to freak out about it, and takes his spot in the crow’s nest so that his cook can rest.
i wrote this properly in sanji’s pov and it’s here, by the way. if you even care.
354 notes
·
View notes