and this makes ten
Sep. 12th, 2011 10:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsTitle: Tidings
Rating: G
Pairing: Gen but Shanks/Ben with a side of Mihawk
Word Count: 743
A/N: 3/3 on the subject of desire
Patience had not been a trait that came naturally to Shanks. It had been earned, a necessity for a man who lived his life on the ocean, through long hours spent with little to do and even less to see. His captain had taught him that, him and Rayleigh and even Buggy, who had never learned to appreciate that particular quality and probably never would. It helped that Shanks knew he was generally easygoing by nature. He was able to let petty annoyances go with a grin or a decent pint, didn’t let too much get to him, erode his calm or eat into his forbearance. And he had an active imagination and the capacity to find pleasure in even the mundane. Sailors’ staples of cards and board games, scrimshaw and arm wrestling, and the ever-ballooning tall tale competition were all enjoyable pastimes and Shanks rarely found himself bored while on his ship. Still, as minutes and hours and days and months and even years slid past, the waiting game occasionally grated.
He and the crew were camped out on the small island thanks to rumor, a possible chance to gain some intel on the new weapons the Navy was alleged to be testing in the area. So far there had been no sign of the marines or of anyone else for that matter. Self-imposed inactivity and a departure deadline that was still too far off had begun to chafe and Shanks had hit the bottle a little harder than normal and paid the consequences. They were all suffering actually, nursing headaches and other effects of overindulgence that morning, when the faintest brush of a familiar aura against the edges of his awareness made his lips twitch. He had a fair amount of new recruits with him again, men who weren’t yet aware of his occasional visitor. Next to him Ben had managed to sit up a bit straighter and Yasopp was actually grinning as he got to his feet and went in search of a few more bottles.
Running feet heralded his guest’s official arrival, his crewman breathless and desperate to get the news out and completely unaware that the subject of his announcement had already arrived to stand behind him. Pure drama, every time, and if it weren’t for the throbbing in his temples Shanks would have laughed. Instead he let Mihawk interrupt his man - the scare would be good for him – and waited to see if there was a point to this visit or if the shichibukai had merely been lonely for some decent company.
The wanted poster that landed in his lap was completely unexpected. The hat, the grin, the scar; Shanks recognized all of them with only a brief glance before he let out a whoop, cracking open one of the bottles Yasopp had brought and taking a slug before offering it to Mihawk. He hadn’t had any news for almost two years, not since his unexpected meeting with Whitebeard’s latest prodigy, but there was Luffy beaming at him off of cheap marine-issue paper. Ten years. It had been ten years since his last duel with Mihawk, since his hair had snagged on rough straw weave, since he said goodbye to the boy he was betting his future on. He hadn’t realized just how much he had been wishing for this, Luffy branded a pirate and officially seen as a threat by the Navy. Not that he wished too much trouble on the lad, but it would follow him anyway by virtue of his very nature and if Luffy was to fulfill their promise, he had by necessity to become a wanted man.
Events were moving finally, time flowing, and a weight – a wait – he hadn’t known he’d been carrying fell away from his shoulders. Shanks passed the paper over to Ben so it could start making the rounds, patted the ground at his side in invitation to Mihawk. This called for another party and if they missed the Navy test in the meantime, well, he’d waited ten years for this particular day and the Navy would have something new in a few months with Vegapunk’s brainpower anyway.
“To old friends!” he toasted, bumping shoulders with Mihawk as he leaned past the shichibukai to clink bottles with Ben once the swordsman had obliged him.
“To old friends,” Mihawk agreed, and hung around long enough watch Shanks live through three more hangovers and nurse one of his own.
Rating: G
Pairing: Gen but Shanks/Ben with a side of Mihawk
Word Count: 743
A/N: 3/3 on the subject of desire
Patience had not been a trait that came naturally to Shanks. It had been earned, a necessity for a man who lived his life on the ocean, through long hours spent with little to do and even less to see. His captain had taught him that, him and Rayleigh and even Buggy, who had never learned to appreciate that particular quality and probably never would. It helped that Shanks knew he was generally easygoing by nature. He was able to let petty annoyances go with a grin or a decent pint, didn’t let too much get to him, erode his calm or eat into his forbearance. And he had an active imagination and the capacity to find pleasure in even the mundane. Sailors’ staples of cards and board games, scrimshaw and arm wrestling, and the ever-ballooning tall tale competition were all enjoyable pastimes and Shanks rarely found himself bored while on his ship. Still, as minutes and hours and days and months and even years slid past, the waiting game occasionally grated.
He and the crew were camped out on the small island thanks to rumor, a possible chance to gain some intel on the new weapons the Navy was alleged to be testing in the area. So far there had been no sign of the marines or of anyone else for that matter. Self-imposed inactivity and a departure deadline that was still too far off had begun to chafe and Shanks had hit the bottle a little harder than normal and paid the consequences. They were all suffering actually, nursing headaches and other effects of overindulgence that morning, when the faintest brush of a familiar aura against the edges of his awareness made his lips twitch. He had a fair amount of new recruits with him again, men who weren’t yet aware of his occasional visitor. Next to him Ben had managed to sit up a bit straighter and Yasopp was actually grinning as he got to his feet and went in search of a few more bottles.
Running feet heralded his guest’s official arrival, his crewman breathless and desperate to get the news out and completely unaware that the subject of his announcement had already arrived to stand behind him. Pure drama, every time, and if it weren’t for the throbbing in his temples Shanks would have laughed. Instead he let Mihawk interrupt his man - the scare would be good for him – and waited to see if there was a point to this visit or if the shichibukai had merely been lonely for some decent company.
The wanted poster that landed in his lap was completely unexpected. The hat, the grin, the scar; Shanks recognized all of them with only a brief glance before he let out a whoop, cracking open one of the bottles Yasopp had brought and taking a slug before offering it to Mihawk. He hadn’t had any news for almost two years, not since his unexpected meeting with Whitebeard’s latest prodigy, but there was Luffy beaming at him off of cheap marine-issue paper. Ten years. It had been ten years since his last duel with Mihawk, since his hair had snagged on rough straw weave, since he said goodbye to the boy he was betting his future on. He hadn’t realized just how much he had been wishing for this, Luffy branded a pirate and officially seen as a threat by the Navy. Not that he wished too much trouble on the lad, but it would follow him anyway by virtue of his very nature and if Luffy was to fulfill their promise, he had by necessity to become a wanted man.
Events were moving finally, time flowing, and a weight – a wait – he hadn’t known he’d been carrying fell away from his shoulders. Shanks passed the paper over to Ben so it could start making the rounds, patted the ground at his side in invitation to Mihawk. This called for another party and if they missed the Navy test in the meantime, well, he’d waited ten years for this particular day and the Navy would have something new in a few months with Vegapunk’s brainpower anyway.
“To old friends!” he toasted, bumping shoulders with Mihawk as he leaned past the shichibukai to clink bottles with Ben once the swordsman had obliged him.
“To old friends,” Mihawk agreed, and hung around long enough watch Shanks live through three more hangovers and nurse one of his own.
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no subject
Date: 2011-09-14 03:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-15 10:04 am (UTC)