[ of course takasugi is making a scene — his entrance is loud and bright and immediately headache-inducing... though law can't deny that a part of him is satisfied to see him show up. ]
Samurai-ya, [ comes his greeting as he lifts his gaze from the book he is reading, eyes sharpening with that interesting starter... and he gets up, crossing the floor to the door with some quick strides as he says, dryly, ]
Usually patients wait until the door is closed before starting to strip. [ let him close the door and turn to takasugi. ] What is "this"?
( his voice fills the small clinic with the confidence of someone much bigger than he is, just like always. but, takasugi gets it. he'll be good ( for once ) and make sure to close the door behind him with a foot before carrying on with his chaos.
once the sleeve is pulled down far enough, takasugi adjusts his clothing to reveal a scabbed over wound close to the lean curve of his bare hip. )
[ he mutters this mostly to himself as the floor clicks shut behind his patient. the energy, the loudness, the chaos — all of it reminds him almost acutely of not just his own crew but the straw hats as well. he sweeps the thought under the metaphorical rug.
and, after a beat, waiting to see if takasugi adds anything, anything at all than showing him a wound on its way to healing — ]
It looks like a wound. [ his professional analysis, this. ha, ha. ]
Exactly. Only I've got some valuable information to share that you might not get from anyone else. Think of it as a little repayment, and a chance for you to touch base with me before I take off again.
( he doesn't mind the flat delivery. if anything, it's interesting. no one else he interacts with on the daily is so unanimated, and takasugi isn't about to ask him to act any different. what it really means is getting a reaction out of him will only be more satisfying down the road.
there's a glint in his eyes, a pattern in those phoenix reds that tends to unravel whenever something unexpected is about to happen. so, takasugi doesn't wait for law to make any sudden movements. he makes those sudden movements himself. he walks over to law without warning, attempting to wrench one of those wrists of his and press it upon the very flesh they're speaking of. )
There was a bullet here. Can you guess how I might have accelerated the healing without surgery?
I'll decide that, [ law mutters, as if even agreeing that this might be valuable is giving too many inches. but there is a prickliness to him that is different — a kind of exasperation, now, instead of the cold detachment of their first meeting.
(if he allows himself to think about it, he's already decided he likes this man, the chaos lurking in his sharp eyes, the way he moves like a whirlwind, like he must be so, so loud to leave a mark behind, when his time eventually comes and takes him away.)
later, he will blame the lapse of attention for what happens next: one moment, he is sighing about the fact the valuable information is, apparently, a wound, and the next his hand is pressed against said wound.
he manages an affronted, ] Oi!
[ but then the question sinks in, and he forgets all about being affronted at all. ] I assume you're about to tell me, [ he fires back, and tries to hold onto his annoyed tone... but some interest sneaks through, regardless. ]
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countershocks) wrote2020-06-29 04:08 pm
no subject
Samurai-ya, [ comes his greeting as he lifts his gaze from the book he is reading, eyes sharpening with that interesting starter... and he gets up, crossing the floor to the door with some quick strides as he says, dryly, ]
Usually patients wait until the door is closed before starting to strip. [ let him close the door and turn to takasugi. ] What is "this"?
no subject
( his voice fills the small clinic with the confidence of someone much bigger than he is, just like always. but, takasugi gets it. he'll be good ( for once ) and make sure to close the door behind him with a foot before carrying on with his chaos.
once the sleeve is pulled down far enough, takasugi adjusts his clothing to reveal a scabbed over wound close to the lean curve of his bare hip. )
Well? What do you think?
( which explains absolutely nothing. )
no subject
[ he mutters this mostly to himself as the floor clicks shut behind his patient. the energy, the loudness, the chaos — all of it reminds him almost acutely of not just his own crew but the straw hats as well. he sweeps the thought under the metaphorical rug.
and, after a beat, waiting to see if takasugi adds anything, anything at all than showing him a wound on its way to healing — ]
It looks like a wound. [ his professional analysis, this. ha, ha. ]
no subject
( he doesn't mind the flat delivery. if anything, it's interesting. no one else he interacts with on the daily is so unanimated, and takasugi isn't about to ask him to act any different. what it really means is getting a reaction out of him will only be more satisfying down the road.
there's a glint in his eyes, a pattern in those phoenix reds that tends to unravel whenever something unexpected is about to happen. so, takasugi doesn't wait for law to make any sudden movements. he makes those sudden movements himself. he walks over to law without warning, attempting to wrench one of those wrists of his and press it upon the very flesh they're speaking of. )
There was a bullet here. Can you guess how I might have accelerated the healing without surgery?
no subject
(if he allows himself to think about it, he's already decided he likes this man, the chaos lurking in his sharp eyes, the way he moves like a whirlwind, like he must be so, so loud to leave a mark behind, when his time eventually comes and takes him away.)
later, he will blame the lapse of attention for what happens next: one moment, he is sighing about the fact the valuable information is, apparently, a wound, and the next his hand is pressed against said wound.
he manages an affronted, ] Oi!
[ but then the question sinks in, and he forgets all about being affronted at all. ] I assume you're about to tell me, [ he fires back, and tries to hold onto his annoyed tone... but some interest sneaks through, regardless. ]