blood & sand

[groundrules]

Hi folks! Welcome to Eastbound’s last test drive meme and the second event of the Ephes Arc, stretching until 25 October. Applications next open over 20-25 October, with invitations required for new players (but not returning ones). Individual cast and game caps are off.

Test driving characters can use this space for both network and log prompts, as well as play both the newcomer and shared prompts. Enjoy!

BLOOD & SAND

---

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NEWCOMERS-ONLY PROMPTS

You wake to the creaky swaying of a large wooden cage, in the back of a cart. Balmy sun pinches your cracked, dried skin. Haziness and nausea assail you, your legs weak. Your supernatural powers are muted, due to recover within 48 hours. Several other carts trot by. You share your cage with a dozen others — largely farmers — and sacks of freshly harvested wheat, their bottoms stained dark.

The farmers point you towards a heap of rusted pendants that allow you to speak and glean local tongues, and access a network. They say you were recovered following an earthquake at a Hive — one of the agricultural clusters feeding the extravagant Senate-led city of Ephes. The Ephes army, the elite Hand, was patrolling nearby and is taking you to the citadel for healing.

■ Gather your bearings and distribute the scant water that Hand soldiers dole out — the earthquake, you hear, has dried the Hive wells.

■ You quickly learn why the Hand encaged all of you, as one of the Hive farmers starts to jerk, growl and shake, weeping black water as he strikes at anyone around him. Fend for yourself, before the Hand soldiers come to remove him!

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You arrive at the main gate of Ephes, where crowds vie for passage. Your carts are inspected, and an irritable woman enters each cage, checking each passenger — before taking you and a handful of others for ‘further customs investigations.’

In the back of an alley, she introduces herself as the sorceress Karsa — and says you are otherworlders brought into the realm of Akhuras by undead lieges of the Brotherhood, who seek to weaponise you in their wars. Her patron, the Merchant, leads otherworlders to ancient transport beacons that can deliver you home.

One beacon sleeps in Ephes, where the rest of Karsa’s party is scattered. The citadel has mysteriously accrued an elite, nearly supernaturally strong army that the undead lady Messalina seeks to borrow from the Senate, in her quest to free her undead companions from the Brotherhood. The Senate is yet to vote on her request.

The black water that has touched you, Karsa says, has previously been found where the undead rally. For now, Karsa gives you a little coin, passport papers identifying you under various civilian roles (player’s choice, but keep it Ancient Rome-themed) and an iron pin of an eye with a sun for a pupil to identify other party members.

SHARED PROMPTS

Decadent Ephes is overrun by rumours, after several Senators who intended to support undead lady Messalina were mysteriously assassinated at the banquet of prominent Senator Maximus Faustus — who, Karsa informs, is one of Messalina’s shapeshifting creatures. Messalina offers her protegees demonic hound escorts.

Hand army recruits protect official buildings, while the rich hire gladiators to watch their homes. Both move freely.

The Senate fears further retaliation against those who champion the dead. Senate leader Caius Justus distantly mourns the Senatorial murders from seclusion at the temple of the Chained God.

Civilians face increased tensions and whispers of curfews in the market. Crowds frequently quarrel over undead allegiances

Following an exercise in divination, priests of the city’s patron, the Chained God, spread word that the deity holds strong despite his Chaining, and he still wishes to destroy and rebirth the world.

Karsa informs the existing party that more otherworlders joined Ephes and wear iron pins depicting an eye with a sun for a pupil. She gives the party similar pins for identification purposes. Newcomers and old timers can recognise each other by their pins or engage over the network!

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THE PROSCRIPTIONS
OBJECTIVE: procure proscription lists.

You hear from the city crowds that partial target lists are circulating with the names of politicians targeted for bounties. Karsa tasks the team to recover the lists, which can be used as political currency. Find them by either:

■ Infiltrating a tavern run by the ruthless city gang of Livius Decimus and packed with unscrupulous bounty hunters, thugs and professional assassins.
A local ‘delicacy’ drink of wine and pickle juice is often inflicted on strangers. Brawls erupt randomly. Coax shady patrons to share target lists.

■ Visit the empty marketplaces just before dawns and raid the chained wooden submission boxes of news shouters, who receive anonymous tip-offs about fresh bounty lists. The boxes are pinned to the ground and tightly locked, but rusty from the cold seasons — allowing you to break them or pick their locks, while someone keeps watch. Tampering with a news shouter’s box is a jailable offence.

■ Turn in a finished thread to receive a clue!

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AT SEA
OBJECTIVE: investigate abandoned ships and rescue sailors.

One early morning (OOCly: Oct. 13), as you entertain sailors for gossip on the docks or fish breakfast, you witness the port authorities screaming for help as several small merchant ships appear abandoned at nearby sea for reasons unknown.

Lookouts spot no activity on board, while sailors organise rescues.

■ Row a small boat some 15-20 minutes to one of the merchant vessels. All merchant ships have roughly three hours afloat, as they slowly sink from numerous small erosion holes in their sides.

■ You find no crew on deck, and doorways to the cabins below are locked from within. Below deck, you find numerous sacks of wheat from the Ephes agricultural clusters, the Hives. A black liquid, thick and tar-like, is seeping out of the sacks — corroding the ship’s wood and creating leaking holes.

■ You find a handful of dazed sailors who claim a dark, slithering creature knocked them out. They were selected by Narula, leader of the elite Ephes army of the Hand, to transfer grain onto the vessels of the ‘merchant’ Matthias, much farther at sea. If you mention Matthias to Karsa later, she reveals he is a man (?) who potentially created the undead Brotherhood.

■ Seven sailors who did not know each other were chosen to man the ship. Eight men are in the room, meaning one ‘man’ is the assailing creature. You must decide who to release upstairs for evacuation.

■ Tips: the creature, disguised as a human sailor, has no pain receptors and isn’t afraid of typical dangers (fire, drowning). It does not bleed if hurt. It sometimes forgets to blink and increasingly, unwillingly, slowly morphs its features into yours, the longer it speaks with you. Lastly, the creature has a tattoo on its forearm identifying it as a soldier of the Hand.

■ Once found, the creature turns violent, dissolving into wisps of shadow and materialising once more to strike from behind you. The shadow creature cannot be outright killed — but you can lock it inside the ship.

■ Leave by small boat before the vessel sinks & claim a question if you saved sailors. Merchant vessels can be patched up, if successfully returned to port.

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THE RATTLING
OBJECTIVE: survive & explore the arena.

To stoke her popularity in Ephes, undead mistress Messalina organises a sumptuous gladiator game at the Colosseum (OOCly around Oct. 20), inviting plebes, patricians, politicians, soldiers — and you.

Gladiators may be hired (or coerced) to perform, while servants supply copious amounts of wines, oysters and honey pastries. A tiny mechanical golden mouse, passing by each seat, drops folded pieces of parchment with fortunes and riddles, ranging from teasing to morbid to philosophical or sweet. Pick up yours and make sense of it with your neighbour!

Politicians often interrupt the games to announce donations or make elaborate speeches. Toss peanuts to signal your discontent — or join in with your own speech.

■ The games start with matches between humans, but are building up to face-offs with reptilian demons, mounted rhinoceros and flying gargolyes whose voices thrall you frozen put.

■ During the games, you feel slight vibrations, and — if supernaturally sensitive — an undefined magical tension. By 15:00, this ramps up into earth tremors that worsen over 12 minutes — as columns and seats topple over, and the ground breaks in deep rifts, releasing black, chilled, tar-like water.

■ Crazed mobs rush for the exit, stampeding carelessly, while columns and decorations tumble down.

■ Dozens of the monsters brought to gladiate free themselves and hunt down spectators. Soldiers of the army of the Hand — disturbingly fast, strong and disciplined — intervene but it’s best you look after yourselves. Some spectators shout these Hand recruits practise some of the techniques performed by a recently missing gladiator — the Beast of Brenne.

■ Passing by the earthquake rifts, you see wisps of the tar-like liquid that gushes from them is gradually assuming the shadowy shape of humans. Stalking after you, they do not speak or bring you harm, but slowly steal your likeness and drain you of vigour and stamina. You get the sense that all they want is a shape. Encountering shadow creatures leaves you with a sense of bitter loneliness that only living company can soothe.

■ If you study the arena, you see the same black liquid is gathering around freshly downed corpses, slowly reanimating them. These newly-crafted undead struggle to walk and speak naturally and remember their lives, often unaware they died. Anguished, they beg help to escape, before inevitably succumbing to the instinct to harm you. Remind or convince them they are dead, and they withdraw.

■ The largest earthquake rift in the arena is overrun by the black liquid and by nearby undead. Within it, you notice a bloodless hand that seems to never sink — Enter a RNG draw to collect it and its clue.

■ As you gather your wits outside, you see followers of the Chained God rallying in the streets, comforting the traumatised crowd that all will be well now — for the Chained God’s destruction will be mercifully swift.

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THE QUIET HOUSE
OBJECTIVE: Explore the abandoned gladiator barracks.

NOTE: a Halloween special, this area is entirely opt-in and features several frights. Mind the warnings!

As chaos consumes the Colosseum, you notice the earthquake has destroyed a previously locked arena gate, revealing a decayed tunnel. The corridor leads inside a closed-off barrack whose doors and windows have been barred from the outside with wood planks and chains. Touch these restraints, and your unhurt hand leaves behind a fading blood print.

The barracks building is withered and clearly abandoned, with scarce furniture and a few weapons in a training room.

Several discarded torches stay alight on wall fixtures. Pre-prepared braziers have been filled with spirit-fending incense of sandalwood and sage. Explore for clues.

■ THE HALLWAYS ( cw: guilt haunting ): corridors flow into each other, often leading back where you started. You run into shifting wall engravings, some listing the name and ranks of Hand soldiers, or precepts such as GODS OF THE ARENA and BECOME AS STRONG / AS FAST, AS NIMBLE / AS GLADIATORS. A large portrait of Hand leader Narula is increasingly more scratched, every time you encounter it, while the painted man looks healthier, younger and stronger. Inevitably, you hear heavy steps — a deep-shadowed spectre, the Drillmaster, who starts to stalk you with slow persistence. Visible to you and your companions, the Drillmaster fluctuates between assuming the appearance of Narula and the distorted, monstrous figure of someone from your past, who heavily criticised or intimidated you. The corridor lighting changes depending on your proximity to the Drillmaster: green for safe passage, white to tread lightly, red to stop. You can make the Drillmaster disappear out of your way by facing or acknowledging whatever weakness (true or self-perceived) you have that has caused extensive criticism or self-doubt.

■ THE BATHS ( cw: doppelgangers): a long marble hall featuring a large swimming pool, now drained and filled with mould and debris. Steam overwhelms the room, except for a wall-length black mirror at the end of the hall. The more you look into the mirror, the more the black substance that covers it slips down, flooding the floors and also dripping from walls and the ceiling. As the mirror clears, you see your black-eyed reflection that suddenly screams out verbal abuse or plunges at you. Once you subdue the doppelganger (claim a clue), it dissolves into more black water, while the mirror shows scratched inscriptions of A RIGHTEOUS HAND SHAPES EACH OF ITS FINGERS.

■ THE DORMITORIES ( cw: membranous cocoons): hollow, empty, quiet, the dormitories sport strange membranous cocoons in the walls, from which shadowy hands reach out. You hear young wo/men, whimpering and murmuring that they aren’t afraid and want to change to make Brother Narula proud, before erupting into screams or laughter. Break the cocoons without getting trapped into their webs — only to find nothing inside, except stone dog tags, engraved with the names of Hand soldiers. On the floor, you find primitive tattoo needles and ink.

Luck strikes at sunset, when a previously barred door opens to release you from the house — back into Ephes.

NOTES:

■ QUESTIONS

■ NPC inbox (for test drivers)

■ Event title shamelessly pilfered from a gory gladiator show!

Comments

Sanji | One Piece LA | test driving

[legsbenedict]

I; newcomers

[ Awareness comes with the heat of the sun beating down on his back and an unfamiliar, jarring sway. The creaking isn't unlike the way a ship creaks and groans as things settle, but everything feels off. The air doesn't have the crispness of the ocean that he's come to expect. Had they been ambushed? Where was everyone else? Opening his eyes, Sanji shoots into a sitting position, which ends up being a mistake as his stomach flips with nausea that's enough to make him gag. After a few breaths to center himself, he reaches into his suit pocket and is relieved to find that his lighter and cigarettes are still present.

Thank the seas for that. He could definitely use one.

Taking one of the pendants, he turns it over in his hand before tucking it into a pocket. Water is handed through the wooden bars and he instead holds it out to his neighbor. ]

Go ahead, I'm good.

II; the proscriptions [ be our guest ]

[ It hadn't been an easy acquisition by any means, but being good with words and laying on the charm certainly helped. (The identification papers he'd been handed took the guesswork out of a lot of it.) While waiting tables in a crowded, dirty tavern supposedly filled with the worst sort wasn't high on his list of things he wanted to do, it felt like the easiest way to blend into the background. Besides, who paid much attention to the worker bees when they weren't right in front of you?

Gossip and leads are better listened to in passing, but the best part about working in any sort of dining establishment? People love to talk when they think nobody is really listening, though it becomes a little more difficult with rowdy guests or when a fight breaks out. Spotting a table of newcomers, he weaves his way through, trying to edge around what's bound to become a skirmish. ]

Welcome, the food is warm and there's certainly something you can call a drink on tap. Thinking about the local delicacy? I'll save you the intestinal distress- don't. What will it be?

[ He smiles pleasantly enough, waiting. ]

III; the quiet house [ the baths ]

[ Failing to resist the urge to delve further into an area that had probably been sealed away for a reason, he's drawn toward the long marble hall that was clearly once a pool or large bathing area. Where he can envision crystalline water in its heyday, it's been long overrun by muck and mold, giving the air an unpleasant smell.

It's empty and silent, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, the steam filling the room almost oppressive. Still, the black mirror that takes up the expanse of wall holds his attention- and worse, his curiosity. It's odd, right? Out of place. He looks back over his shoulder, his laugh high and tight. Nervous? Who's nervous? ]

Is this place freaking you out or is it just me?

[ After all, the steam is loosening the muck on the mirror and it's just his own reflection, nothing at all to be nervous about. ]

IV; wildcard

[ If none of those suit your fancy, let's come up with something together! oopsallsadboys I've tried to keep it spoiler-free and I'll mark for spoils, but lmk if you want none of those or have questions. <3 ]

IV; wildcard | @ the tavern

[serio]

( with most of the straw hats accounted for by now, zoro is resting a little easy. still recovering from that chest wound -- fish skin and bandages intact, this green-haired ex-pirate hunter is sitting by the bar, quietly enjoying his drink for the evening. mm. well. maybe not so quietly. because the moment the blondie walks past him... it's like he just can't help himself. )

Waiter. I see you've made yourself at home. ( he then points to his empty glass, looking to get a refill. the whiskey tastes rough rather than smooth, more bitter than sweet, but it has enough of that smokiness and spiciness to it that he'll take it. anything to help dull the pain in his chest. seems like he might have outdone himself this morning with having dragged two people back to shore after their boat had capsized. )

[legsbenedict]

[ Even in the short span of knowing him, one fundamental truth was apparent about Zoro- he couldn't help himself. Couldn't help the urge to snark, and couldn't stop himself from challenging Dracule Mihawk to a swordfight. He doesn't know how someone has honed getting under his skin to an art form, and yet he lives and breathes, sipping on whatever it is he's drinking.

Sanji is glad to see him, both alive and also here. That doesn't mean he can stop himself from raising an eyebrow and stopping at his table, either. ]

We can't all just sit about and drink, can we? [ He glances at the empty glass and flashes that customer service smile with the graceful tilt of his head. ]

The local brew for your next round, or the cheap swill they have on tap?

[serio]

I've got a golden tooth. ( no, not in his mouth. he pulls it out from his pocket, showing it to the cook. he'd found it in a coin purse, belonging to a sailor on that merchant ship that had sunk this morning. ) What do you think this will get me? ( if sanji makes a reach for it though, he'll close his fist before he can take it because gold's supposed to be precious, right? hard to find? honestly, he's got no idea. all he's ever had is a handful of berry. )

You seen our navigator around anywhere? ( because he figured he'd hand the purse over to her -- gold digger that she is, nami will know what's what about it. thing is, he hasn't seen her all day. of course, he'd also spent the better part of this afternoon napping. he'd found a quiet corner with some good shade and he'd slept, right there on the damn street with his back against the wall. no bed, no fuss. )

[legsbenedict]

I'm so happy for you? Let me see.

[ He gets the intention behind it, but jeez, Zoro. Sanji does reach for the gold tooth, but pulls his hand away with an expression of annoyance when the hand is closed over it. Really, he wishes people would stop trying to give him teeth. It's morbid. ]

Maybe, but I don't just hand out information about my patrons. [ He's being difficult and he knows it, but he's working and he's no one's keeper- least of all Nami. She is a woman who follows her wims, he's sure he'll see her around before too long. The crew has to stick together. ]

How do you not know where she is- what have you been doing all day?

[serio]

Why would I know where she is? ( he drops the tooth back in his pocket before picking up his glass only to remember it's empty. zoro puts it back down, that expression on his face remaining as impassive as ever. ) I've been busy. ( not gonna elaborate on that. he doesn't particularly give a shit what the cook thinks he's been up to, or more like, what he's not been up to. despite the fact most of the straw hat pirates are accounted for, he's back to doing his own thing. at least, until someone comes up with a plan of action. )

I'll take the local brew. ( he's just gonna sit here for a couple of hours. maybe listen in on some conversations... ) I'm surprised you're not in the kitchen. ( and attempt a conversation with the waiter, apparently. )

[legsbenedict]

How are you not keeping tabs? What kind of first mate are you?

[ How is Zoro not aware of where everyone is- especially Nami? But considering how their first mate is on any given day, Sanji can't say he's entirely surprised. He rolls his eyes at the idea of Zoro being busy, since it looks like he's been making himself comfortable at this particular table. ]

Local it is. [ Oh, he is absolutely getting the newcomer 'delicacy'. He's about ready to wander off and see to his other tables, but stops, leaning his hip against the table with his arms crossed. Sanji raises his eyebrows in surprise. Okay, so they're stopping to have a conversation. He'll bite. ]

As much as it kills me, it's easier to hear what's going on in the city if I'm waiting tables. People talk.

newcomers | the cart

[catherding]

( Don't mind if he drinks and drinks and drinks, greedy gulps coalescing into a volcanic cough and the animal instinct to carry on absorbing resources, despite the discomfort. To have his fill and a little more.

Disgusting, the bottom line: they're bones and dregs of skin and a tenderly cultivated veneer of competence and the arrogance, sharp and neat, to assume discipline is the by-product of personal will and civilisation — and not privilege. A man abandoned his waterskin. Hector's clutches the damned thing, intent to throttle it down. )

...you'll regret that. ( Off-hand, like every bitter child who not only cares to hog his toys, but also to inform the nursery that it is entirely missing out. ) They only come every few hours.

( Hector, who has been anticipating the feeding and supply rounds with the canine despair of a veteran of imprisonment, has been waiting for this. )

[legsbenedict]

[ He watches the man drink with a desperation that speaks of something darker- of scarcity. His mouth pulls into a frown- at least until the man speaks again.

You'll regret that. Sanji can't help the smirk as he pulls the pack of cigarettes from his pocket, tapping one out and lighting it. As he takes a puff and exhales, he raises an eyebrow, thankful that his little vice managed to stay with him. Wherever they are. ]

I will, huh? Don't know that a few hours without a sip of water will be enough to do me in.

[ The others in the cart, particularly the farmers whose faces are grim and weary, need it more. ]

[catherding]

Mmmhmmmmmm. ( But there's a hint of amused approval in Hector's fleeting attention, how he pulls back to simultaneously wipe clean the slate of his debts — wisdom shared, lessons conveyed — and that of his mouth.

They're mighty heroes with the discipline and physical stamina to withstand deprivation, hurt and torture. Of course. Say no more. Only, allow Hector the chance to continue his erstwhile romance with the waterskin he clutches in hand, furiously. Never shall the twain part. )

I'll hold on to this, then. So it isn't lonely.

( ...especially when two of the farmers steps beyond appear to take a growing interest in the state of both Hector and his possessions. Tsk. Greedy mice. Good for nothings. )

I don't suppose you're as good with your fists as you are with your sturdiness. ( Worse coming to worst. Just in case, while Hector craws to sit with his back to the bars, glaring down any prospective dangers. )

[legsbenedict]

Yeah, you do that. [ He pauses for a beat to take another drag, motioning his hand toward the others in the cart. ] So long as you're sharing with others who need it, too.

[ There's no problem until his new acquaintance decides all the resources are for himself, then Sanji will have to intervene. He really doesn't want to have to resort to that.

He casts a sidelong glance as a few of the farmers start to shift and.. growl? Sanji straightens up, brow furrowed. ]

Hey, it's alright, there's plenty. [ His placating tone seems to fall on deaf ears and he can see with a growing sense of dread that this farmer has started to cry inky black tears.

Oh. Not good. Apparently deciding that Sanji is the prime target, the farmer lashes out with a swipe. He plants a foot in the farmer's chest, forcing him against the bars. ]

Who said I need my hands? Gonna just sit back and watch?

[catherding]

That...

( ...is precisely what he has done, at various time-honoured and distinctly true points in his life. It's not that he's futile, precisely, only that utilising Hector for purposes of brute force is roughly as effective as deploying a colander to pour soup. It can — it will, after some navigation — happen.

It shouldn't. And it's in the midst of this logistical tragedy that Hector, pulling back, decides to summarily repurpose himself, to reinvent himself as a man with street smarts to top his academia, when a farmer swings in, Hector swivels and lands in a pile of his own height of wheat sacks, his foot trips on a hard steely length —

...and suddenly, he's on his knees, breaking his fall on a shovel's handle. Well, well. Turns out the soldiers forgot the instrument they used to propel any of the spilled wheat back into the sacks. It's been here, beneath them, all along.

Having done more than watch, he has the dignity to shout out to his new ally: )

Can you use this?

( ...one can only expect Hector to go so far in this one-man road to self-discovery. )

[legsbenedict]

[ The farmer scrambles to try and get him to let go, but while the blunt nails trying to get purchase on the flesh of his calf, they're not strong enough to pierce his pant leg. Sanji growls in irritation, not wanting to hurt his attacker, but not wanting him to attack anyone else.

His gaze flicks to Hector, then to the shovel. ]

Yeah, if I wanted to brain him to death!

[ Which.. really, he doesn't. If they could subdue him, great. There really isn't much around the cage for them to use to their advantage. Maybe the sacks of wheat would be heavy enough? Or he could kick the guy. ]

iii: baths

[bigsmile]

This place? Freaking me out? No?

( It would be almost convincing if Luffy's voice didn't rise on the last syllable, cracking at the end of it. There's something about this room that's making his skin crawl for absolutely no reason that he can tell. Sure it looked dirty and run down but they'd been in lots of places like that.

Whatever happens, Sanji is here. Luffy knows that the other is an amazing fighter and he keeps that thought close to his heart, trying not to think too hard on what exactly they would be fighting. It's difficult enough not to be hanging on to Sanji's arm at this point. )

Just a lot of dirty and a grimy mirror. They really let this place go.

[legsbenedict]

[ He would say that it's a relief that it's not just him, but that really doesn't make things any better. There's something about this place he doesn't like. Sanji looks again at the mirror and notices there's something off about his reflection, but can't place why.

It's as he's staring that the black substance drips with more fervor. He can hear it dripping from the ceilings, echoing against the tile. He looks back to Luffy, giving what he hopes is a reassuring smile. ]

It makes you wonder why, doesn't it?

[ When he looks back at the mirror, his own reflection stares back, eyes pitch black. He's about to voice his concern when his reflection lunges out of the mirror, hands reaching toward his neck with an angry shout. USELESS, PATHETIC FAILURE!

He stumbles back, shocked and caught off guard. ]

Shit! Luffy, watch out!

[bigsmile]

( Luffy can't imagine why it's abandoned and in such disrepair, if he looks past the grime and dirt he supposes it could have been a decent enough place? Something obviously happened, possibly terrible enough to scare the owners away? It makes an awful kind of sense to Luffy and his lips thin as the thought sticks in his mind.

He opens his mouth to point out how they should maybe leave, make their way back outside and maybe find something to eat. But the words stick in his throat as something pushes through the mirror and straight at Sanji. He hears the other's yell and takes a step back, but it seems the enemy is more focused on the chef than anyone else and Luffy stares.

It looks just like Sanji. The eyes are different and such, but the rest is unmistakeable, yet despite the mystery and confusion of it all, one thing is obvious; it's out for blood and Luffy grits his teeth. No-one hurts his friends, ever. )

Don't you even think about picking a fight with Sanji.

( Even doppelgangers get a first warning it seems, Luffy's tone promising nothing but a battle should the being persist. )

[legsbenedict]

[ The screamed insults catch him more off-guard than the fact that his own reflection is attacking him. He recovers quickly, bracing himself on the floor with his hands and targeting a kick toward the reflection's head. It dodges, and he doesn't like the cruel smirk plastered on its (his??) face.

If it's a reflection of himself, does that mean it has all of his moves? ]

I don't know that it's capable of reason.

[ His kick is blocked, but Sanji had a gut feeling that it might be. Thankfully Luffy's attacks are unpredictable in any situation. With the two of them, this shouldn't take too long? ]

[bigsmile]

( Luffy doesn't think it's capable either and the look on the creature's face, the cruel smirk has his blood running cold. Sanji could never have an expression like that on his face, not even if he wanted to. In a way that makes things much easier as Luffy nods to himself.

Easier to punch the thing. )

That sounds like his problem to me. ( There's not a second of hesitation as Luffy pulls his arm back as far as the room will allow, swinging it forward at the being as hard as he can. He doesn't know what's happening but it ought to finish quickly enough before it gets totally out of hand. )

[legsbenedict]

[ Oh Captain, my Captain!

It's weird fighting a clone of himself since they're on even footing, but even weirder that something is wearing his face. Do they kill it? Destroy the mirror? Kick it back where it came from? ]

I'd be in a bad mood too if I was stuck in this shithole. [ Sanji has enough sense to move out of the way of that rubber arm as it goes flying. ]

I; newcomers - spoilers are totally fine

[stomacles]

Good, because I'm not.

[ More like Ben can't get enough of feeling the liquid go down his throat - he actively can feel it move! He's solid. And can drink water! He doesn't waste time in taking the offer. They'll be back around, and if he's good then, he'll share his, in return. ]

[ Ben leans back with a sigh, content for a second. ]

It doesn't really have taste, does it? Water? But it tastes so good right now.

[legsbenedict]

[ He waves a hand idly toward his present company, motioning to keep the waterskin if he's so inclined. He'd rather it go to someone who needs it more in the moment, he can wait a few hours. Besides, that nausea still hadn't really abated and he didn't want to waste it if it came back up. ]

I'd say it does, especially if it's something you've been craving.

[ When water is a precious resource, it's the most delicious thing in the world. ]

Feel better?

[stomacles]

[ So far, despite the nausea, Ben keeps the water down, thankfully. So he doesn't hesitate to take in more. ]

So it's not just me. It does have taste.

[ No argument there, that water is the most important, precious resource, and in that moment, nothing else tastes better. ]

Yes. What about you? How are you feeling?

[legsbenedict]

Water tastes different depending on where it comes from, too. That, and the canteen they've kept it in might have altered it.

[ Sanji takes a moment to consider, stretching his legs out. ]

Definitely still nauseous. Would it bother you if I smoked?

[ Even as he asks the question, he's reaching into his suit jacket for his cigs and lighter. ]

[stomacles]

It does? I hadn't noticed that. [ But now he wants to have water from different places just to try that out. ]

[ Ben cants his head for a moment. It's a bit of a gross habit, but at least it wasn't alcohol or drugs. And maybe smelling a new scent would be interesting. ]

Go ahead. Not sure that's going to help your stomach, though.

[legsbenedict]

Just don't drink the seawater.

[ Well, now that that's settled, he's going to light up and take a drag. Ugh, that's more like it. He does his best to blow his smoke up and away from Ben. ]

On the contrary, it's working beautifully.

[ Maybe it's working, maybe it's a nicotine craving, who's to say for sure. ]

So, got a name?