Because it's unseasonably warm outside...
Jan. 21st, 2006 03:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chibi_trillianWritten last night while I was half-asleep. Turned out surprisingly well. Maybe having my brain functional interferes with my writing?
Title: Winter Games
Series: One Piece
One Piece: Not mine.
Notes: Yeah, I know if I really wanted Zoro's attack name to be really accurate, I'd name it after some Japanese snow-demon. But sometimes, a cigar is just a cigar. Edited because I sometimes remember which romance language Robin uses for her attack name.
Sanji had been stuck on the defensive since this fight had started. He wasn’t overmuch fond of winter islands to start with, and this brutal attack—nay, betrayal, for his nakama were the ones against him—was not helping to improve his opinion of the icy hellholes.
Zoro might be laughing now, but that was a temporary state of affairs. Sanji just needed to figure out a way to make snowballs with his feet.
Usopp, who was far and away the master of snowball craft and firing, finally switched sides when it became obvious that Sanji wasn’t enjoying being pelted with snowballs that he refused to use his hands to return. His pants and shoes were crusted in snow, but his mittened hands stayed firmly jammed in his pockets. The cook flashed the sniper a grin, and snowballs, perfectly shaped for the best flight and most potent impact, started finding targets on the other side of the field.
Then Chopper, who knew snowscapes on an instinctual level, joined the Cook-Sharpshooter Coalition, and the fight started tipping in the other direction. Gomu Gomu no Yuki and No-Sword Technique: Big Fucking Snowball were no match for Ice Stars and Arm Point Blizzard, especially when the snowball flingers were protected by the solid wall of Sanji’s defensive kicks.
And then a quiet murmur of “Cien Fleurs: Rosas de Invierno” traced its way across the pockmarked snow, and a hundred snowballs flew from a hundred different directions to converge on two points of conflict.
Nami grinned as a faint moan of “Cooooooold…” from Luffy and a muffled cry of “Robin-chan is so skillful! All the snow in the world could not douse the fires of my passion! Let me make you some cocoa, my snow blossoms!” signaled unconditional surrender from the other two combative units. She turned to congratulate her ally…
…and a handful of snow went down the back of her jacket.
The ice-encrusted boys paused in their defrosting to savor the rare sight and sound of one Nico Robin laughing so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes with her gloved hands. Her laughter spread as quickly as a blossoming chain of her hands, and infected everyone it touched.
Somewhere in all that snow and silliness and Sanji making cocoa and Zoro sneaking rum into Chopper’s cup and Usopp firing marshmallows across the galley into Luffy’s mouth and Nami forgiving her with a hug and an ice cube down her bra in retribution, Robin learned something. Something sweet, something almost as desirable as a clear view through the scratched, marred window of History. She couldn’t put words to it, not yet, but it was there, as solid and real as a Poneglyph stone under her hand and just as dangerous in its own way.
Luffy would have called it nakama.
Title: Winter Games
Series: One Piece
One Piece: Not mine.
Notes: Yeah, I know if I really wanted Zoro's attack name to be really accurate, I'd name it after some Japanese snow-demon. But sometimes, a cigar is just a cigar. Edited because I sometimes remember which romance language Robin uses for her attack name.
Sanji had been stuck on the defensive since this fight had started. He wasn’t overmuch fond of winter islands to start with, and this brutal attack—nay, betrayal, for his nakama were the ones against him—was not helping to improve his opinion of the icy hellholes.
Zoro might be laughing now, but that was a temporary state of affairs. Sanji just needed to figure out a way to make snowballs with his feet.
Usopp, who was far and away the master of snowball craft and firing, finally switched sides when it became obvious that Sanji wasn’t enjoying being pelted with snowballs that he refused to use his hands to return. His pants and shoes were crusted in snow, but his mittened hands stayed firmly jammed in his pockets. The cook flashed the sniper a grin, and snowballs, perfectly shaped for the best flight and most potent impact, started finding targets on the other side of the field.
Then Chopper, who knew snowscapes on an instinctual level, joined the Cook-Sharpshooter Coalition, and the fight started tipping in the other direction. Gomu Gomu no Yuki and No-Sword Technique: Big Fucking Snowball were no match for Ice Stars and Arm Point Blizzard, especially when the snowball flingers were protected by the solid wall of Sanji’s defensive kicks.
And then a quiet murmur of “Cien Fleurs: Rosas de Invierno” traced its way across the pockmarked snow, and a hundred snowballs flew from a hundred different directions to converge on two points of conflict.
Nami grinned as a faint moan of “Cooooooold…” from Luffy and a muffled cry of “Robin-chan is so skillful! All the snow in the world could not douse the fires of my passion! Let me make you some cocoa, my snow blossoms!” signaled unconditional surrender from the other two combative units. She turned to congratulate her ally…
…and a handful of snow went down the back of her jacket.
The ice-encrusted boys paused in their defrosting to savor the rare sight and sound of one Nico Robin laughing so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes with her gloved hands. Her laughter spread as quickly as a blossoming chain of her hands, and infected everyone it touched.
Somewhere in all that snow and silliness and Sanji making cocoa and Zoro sneaking rum into Chopper’s cup and Usopp firing marshmallows across the galley into Luffy’s mouth and Nami forgiving her with a hug and an ice cube down her bra in retribution, Robin learned something. Something sweet, something almost as desirable as a clear view through the scratched, marred window of History. She couldn’t put words to it, not yet, but it was there, as solid and real as a Poneglyph stone under her hand and just as dangerous in its own way.
Luffy would have called it nakama.
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-01-22 01:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-01-22 09:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-01-22 06:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-01-22 09:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-01-26 12:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-01-27 03:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-09 01:25 am (UTC)so sweet - - there are tears in my eyes. I still don't know much about robin (being still stuck in skypeia) but it seems so wonderful that she's found happiness where there was only pain before.
(I think I wrote somewhere about getting urges to comment on months-old fic - sometimes I just can't suppress them :)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-26 08:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-29 08:08 am (UTC)