rainsometimes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rainsometimes) wrote2008-04-06 11:47 am
rainsometimes) wrote2008-04-06 11:47 am
can't think of skull joke
The second part of the "trying-to-figure-out-Brook"-fic.
Title: Bagatelles
Word Count: 1701 in this part
Rating: G, or maybe PG for mentions of death
Characters: Usopp, Brook
Setting/spoilers: Set right after the ending of Thriller Bark
Disclaimer: The characters of One Piece were created by Eiichiro Oda and are owned by him and Shueisha Inc. They are used here without permission. This fanfic is for entertainment only and may not be used for profit.
Summary: Brook considered from Usopp’s point of view.
Link to Part One
Part two: F Major
There was a skeleton loose in the workshop.
“What’s this?” (Potter, potter.)
Usopp craned his neck. “Oh, that’s smell dials over there.”
“And this?” (Poke, poke; hum, hum)
“Petroleum oil. Careful, it’s expensive!”
“And what about this?” (Potter, poke, whistle.)
“That’s just some scraps I’m going to make caltrops from…”
“Oho, this looks interesting!” Brook halted and looked down thoughtfully, extending a finger towards the contraption on the floor. “What is it?”
“That’s there to filter out the impurities of the liquor before it’s poured into an ampoule for flammable ammunition – DON’T TOUCH IT!! It’s not all empty – you could spill it and start a fire!”
“Yohoho!” laughed Brook, removing his hand away from the device with a flourishing gesture. “Don’t be so nervous, Mr. Usopp. You should learn from me – I am always cool and relaxed! Of course, then again I don’t have any nerves to worry about! Yohohoho – skull joke! Oh, and what’s this?” He hovered over a glass container in one corner, sniffing the air curiously.
“That’s tabasco sauce.”
“Really? Did you know, I have actually never tasted that? Back in my day that was very hard to get hold of, it could cost you a fortune!” He dipped a bony finger into the container.
“DON’T EAT IT!” shouted Usopp. But the musician had already dipped a finger into his mouth – how does he lick without a tongue? Usopp couldn’t help but wonder, though he knew it was futile – and gave a great start.
“AAAHHH!! It feels like my mouth is on fire! Aaaah! Help! Murder! Water!!”
Usopp tore his hair while the skeleton was running around in panic, upsetting things all over the place. “Will you listen when people tell you stuff, you idiot – and what was that about always being relaxed?!”
“Ah! Water! There!” Brook had spotted the small bucket of water intended to cool down the soldering-iron later on, and buried his entire head in it. Bubbles were rising up from the bottom.
Well, thought Usopp ruefully, this was what happened when you insisted on leaving the door to your workshop half open. Not that people wouldn’t barge in even when you didn’t, of course. But at least then you could claim you hadn’t encouraged them.
He glanced around the large workshop that Franky had built for him even before knowing for sure whether he’d come back to the crew or not. He hadn’t actually had many complaints about working out in the open on Going Merry’s small deck, but when you looked at how many things he’d gotten done lately, it was quite surprising how much difference more space and privacy seemed to make. (Or to be quite honest, more how many things he’d been able to start working on, rather than finish; but in any case he liked having several projects going at once.)
The problem was that these days, when he’d been working by himself for too long he’d usually get, well…not nervous exactly but kinda antsy and skittish. Of course he knew everyone was still out there, but – it was just hard to concentrate properly. He would leave the stuff behind to stroll out for a while – just to chat with someone for a couple of minutes, he’d tell himself, but usually it would take much longer. When he didn’t wind up in some game with Luffy and Chopper he’d end up talking shop with Franky; or Nami would spot him and dump some chore on him, or there’d be some interesting smell from the galley so he’d have to try to cadge some snacks from Sanji.
And except perhaps for the more boring type of chores there was nothing wrong with all that; it was just that there’d also be niggling thoughts of the half-finished work lurking in the back of his head or gnawing at his conscience. It was okay to leave things for the next day when he honestly felt he’d done enough, or had hit upon some snag he didn’t know how to resolve yet. But it annoyed him when he’d been in the midst of things and wanted to keep working had it not been for that extra unnecessary feeling of skittishness.
So he’d started to compromise by leaving the door to the workshop ajar, so that he could easily hear a lot of the noises from the crew outside (there were always some noises). That way, he was better able to relax and could work a lot longer. It seemed to work except for getting distracted by crewmates who took the opportunity to drop in now and then. But that was the risk you ran.
Brook seemed to have calmed down now. Water still dripping from his hair, he sat down on the floor as elegantly as an eight-foot-tall skeleton with very long limbs could manage – which actually was considerably elegantly, Usopp had to admit.
“Oh my, I had no idea it would taste so strong!” he carolled. “Yohoho-hoho, I was ready to think that my last day had come! Again! But you know, I think I could get used to the taste in time! Imagine! With that kind of seasoning, no food would ever taste dull. Can I have it?”
Usopp blinked. Brook was holding a small pocket-flask of leather, his hand hovering over the container of tabasco. The flask wasn’t any of Usopp’s but he’d rather not think about where the skeleton might have kept it hidden before.
He shook his head, coming back to the issue at hand. “No, of course you can’t!” he said hurriedly, his hand snaking out and jerking the tabasco away from under Brook’s nose and put it behind him, though with Brook’s reach it might not make much difference. “That’s not food, that’s ammunition!” he continued. “How do you think I would have defeated the man-eating demon tribes of the Island of Eternal Midnight without my trusty Tabasco Stars? Or the ferocious giant werewolves on Ice Monster Island? If you want something to eat, go bug Sanji.”
“Yohohoho!” laughed the skeleton amiably. “If you say so, Mr. Usopp, although there is something to be said for generosity. But I must say, hearing you talk like that rather takes me back to the old days. There were quite a few of us Rumba Pirates who were good at telling tall tales too, if I do say so myself. I remember this particular fellow very well. If he ever told the plain truth without embellishments, everyone in the crew was amazed, and then we knew there was something very unusual going on! He was still an excellent comrade, though, right up until the end. Died of a poisoned arrow in one eye and a harpoon through his stomach, I think it was.” Brook added the last bit matter-of-factly, almost as an afterthought.
It wasn’t easy to know what to say to that. Usopp worked in silence for a while, while Brook sat back and looked at the room around him, exuding a mixture of keen curiosity and serenity.
“Every morning when I wake up and find myself here, I feel so happy,” the skeleton said suddenly. Usopp looked up to find a pair of empty eye-sockets turned towards him, looking disconcertingly direct. “I just feel so happy,” continued Brook. “Because that’s when I realise it wasn’t all a dream after all, that I really am here. I used to be so lonely I thought I could die from it!!”
Usopp stared at him. Dammit, people weren’t supposed to just say things like that, so simply and honestly… Yet Brook didn’t seem to be troubled at all. He was resting his arms on his knees, looking entirely relaxed.
“Or at least go crazy! But now it’s almost enough to make me worry that I’ll go crazy from happiness instead!” He laughed loudly: “Yohohoho!! How silly of me, isn’t it?!”
Usopp looked down at the workbench. He was holding a bunch of super-small springs in one hand and had just realised that if he put them down again they’d just get mixed up with the normal-small springs and the super-small screws.
“Here, hold this,” he told Brook, dropping the super-small springs into Brook’s bony hand. Then Usopp moved his stuff around until there were tidy piles of each type of equipment on the workbench. He held out his hand and Brook returned the springs.
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
“Yohoho! My pleasure!” Brook scooted a few inches closer to the workbench, tilting his head to one side as he gave it another look full of curiosity. The posture was quite different, yet Usopp was reminded of nothing so much as Luffy on his stomach as he would edge closer for a better look, chin resting in the palm of his hand. “Any other thing I can lead my assistance too?”
“Well…uh…hold on…” Usopp looked around, then picked up a small white cup right by his feet (he’d just put it there before for fear of Brook accidentally knocking it over.) It had a certain potent mixture in it, one that was still too thick and sludgy to be useful. He put a spate in the cup and handed it over to the musician. “Yeah, you can stir this for a while. But don’t do it too quickly or it might spill.”
“Leave it to me!!” exclaimed Brook. “I know all about stirring beverages, do not worry! Yohohoho!”
“It’s not a beverage!” protested Usopp forcefully. “Don’t drink it or your stomach might go KABOOM!” He gestured widely, knocking one of the neat piles of small springs over.
Brook’s upper eye ridges shot up. “I shall be careful!” he promised. “One certainly wouldn’t want something like THAT to happen!…” He trailed off: Usopp glanced at him in confusion, frowning and tapping his fingers involuntarily.
“…Not that I have a stomach, of course! Yohohoho! Skull joke!” finished Brook, and Usopp relaxed.
In all likelihood, Usopp thought, there was a good risk Brook might get too excited at some point and end up spilling most of the cup’s contents. That happened often enough with Luffy, after all (though practically never with Chopper). But he figured that was the price you paid for keeping your door half open.
Title: Bagatelles
Word Count: 1701 in this part
Rating: G, or maybe PG for mentions of death
Characters: Usopp, Brook
Setting/spoilers: Set right after the ending of Thriller Bark
Disclaimer: The characters of One Piece were created by Eiichiro Oda and are owned by him and Shueisha Inc. They are used here without permission. This fanfic is for entertainment only and may not be used for profit.
Summary: Brook considered from Usopp’s point of view.
Link to Part One
Part two: F Major
There was a skeleton loose in the workshop.
“What’s this?” (Potter, potter.)
Usopp craned his neck. “Oh, that’s smell dials over there.”
“And this?” (Poke, poke; hum, hum)
“Petroleum oil. Careful, it’s expensive!”
“And what about this?” (Potter, poke, whistle.)
“That’s just some scraps I’m going to make caltrops from…”
“Oho, this looks interesting!” Brook halted and looked down thoughtfully, extending a finger towards the contraption on the floor. “What is it?”
“That’s there to filter out the impurities of the liquor before it’s poured into an ampoule for flammable ammunition – DON’T TOUCH IT!! It’s not all empty – you could spill it and start a fire!”
“Yohoho!” laughed Brook, removing his hand away from the device with a flourishing gesture. “Don’t be so nervous, Mr. Usopp. You should learn from me – I am always cool and relaxed! Of course, then again I don’t have any nerves to worry about! Yohohoho – skull joke! Oh, and what’s this?” He hovered over a glass container in one corner, sniffing the air curiously.
“That’s tabasco sauce.”
“Really? Did you know, I have actually never tasted that? Back in my day that was very hard to get hold of, it could cost you a fortune!” He dipped a bony finger into the container.
“DON’T EAT IT!” shouted Usopp. But the musician had already dipped a finger into his mouth – how does he lick without a tongue? Usopp couldn’t help but wonder, though he knew it was futile – and gave a great start.
“AAAHHH!! It feels like my mouth is on fire! Aaaah! Help! Murder! Water!!”
Usopp tore his hair while the skeleton was running around in panic, upsetting things all over the place. “Will you listen when people tell you stuff, you idiot – and what was that about always being relaxed?!”
“Ah! Water! There!” Brook had spotted the small bucket of water intended to cool down the soldering-iron later on, and buried his entire head in it. Bubbles were rising up from the bottom.
Well, thought Usopp ruefully, this was what happened when you insisted on leaving the door to your workshop half open. Not that people wouldn’t barge in even when you didn’t, of course. But at least then you could claim you hadn’t encouraged them.
He glanced around the large workshop that Franky had built for him even before knowing for sure whether he’d come back to the crew or not. He hadn’t actually had many complaints about working out in the open on Going Merry’s small deck, but when you looked at how many things he’d gotten done lately, it was quite surprising how much difference more space and privacy seemed to make. (Or to be quite honest, more how many things he’d been able to start working on, rather than finish; but in any case he liked having several projects going at once.)
The problem was that these days, when he’d been working by himself for too long he’d usually get, well…not nervous exactly but kinda antsy and skittish. Of course he knew everyone was still out there, but – it was just hard to concentrate properly. He would leave the stuff behind to stroll out for a while – just to chat with someone for a couple of minutes, he’d tell himself, but usually it would take much longer. When he didn’t wind up in some game with Luffy and Chopper he’d end up talking shop with Franky; or Nami would spot him and dump some chore on him, or there’d be some interesting smell from the galley so he’d have to try to cadge some snacks from Sanji.
And except perhaps for the more boring type of chores there was nothing wrong with all that; it was just that there’d also be niggling thoughts of the half-finished work lurking in the back of his head or gnawing at his conscience. It was okay to leave things for the next day when he honestly felt he’d done enough, or had hit upon some snag he didn’t know how to resolve yet. But it annoyed him when he’d been in the midst of things and wanted to keep working had it not been for that extra unnecessary feeling of skittishness.
So he’d started to compromise by leaving the door to the workshop ajar, so that he could easily hear a lot of the noises from the crew outside (there were always some noises). That way, he was better able to relax and could work a lot longer. It seemed to work except for getting distracted by crewmates who took the opportunity to drop in now and then. But that was the risk you ran.
Brook seemed to have calmed down now. Water still dripping from his hair, he sat down on the floor as elegantly as an eight-foot-tall skeleton with very long limbs could manage – which actually was considerably elegantly, Usopp had to admit.
“Oh my, I had no idea it would taste so strong!” he carolled. “Yohoho-hoho, I was ready to think that my last day had come! Again! But you know, I think I could get used to the taste in time! Imagine! With that kind of seasoning, no food would ever taste dull. Can I have it?”
Usopp blinked. Brook was holding a small pocket-flask of leather, his hand hovering over the container of tabasco. The flask wasn’t any of Usopp’s but he’d rather not think about where the skeleton might have kept it hidden before.
He shook his head, coming back to the issue at hand. “No, of course you can’t!” he said hurriedly, his hand snaking out and jerking the tabasco away from under Brook’s nose and put it behind him, though with Brook’s reach it might not make much difference. “That’s not food, that’s ammunition!” he continued. “How do you think I would have defeated the man-eating demon tribes of the Island of Eternal Midnight without my trusty Tabasco Stars? Or the ferocious giant werewolves on Ice Monster Island? If you want something to eat, go bug Sanji.”
“Yohohoho!” laughed the skeleton amiably. “If you say so, Mr. Usopp, although there is something to be said for generosity. But I must say, hearing you talk like that rather takes me back to the old days. There were quite a few of us Rumba Pirates who were good at telling tall tales too, if I do say so myself. I remember this particular fellow very well. If he ever told the plain truth without embellishments, everyone in the crew was amazed, and then we knew there was something very unusual going on! He was still an excellent comrade, though, right up until the end. Died of a poisoned arrow in one eye and a harpoon through his stomach, I think it was.” Brook added the last bit matter-of-factly, almost as an afterthought.
It wasn’t easy to know what to say to that. Usopp worked in silence for a while, while Brook sat back and looked at the room around him, exuding a mixture of keen curiosity and serenity.
“Every morning when I wake up and find myself here, I feel so happy,” the skeleton said suddenly. Usopp looked up to find a pair of empty eye-sockets turned towards him, looking disconcertingly direct. “I just feel so happy,” continued Brook. “Because that’s when I realise it wasn’t all a dream after all, that I really am here. I used to be so lonely I thought I could die from it!!”
Usopp stared at him. Dammit, people weren’t supposed to just say things like that, so simply and honestly… Yet Brook didn’t seem to be troubled at all. He was resting his arms on his knees, looking entirely relaxed.
“Or at least go crazy! But now it’s almost enough to make me worry that I’ll go crazy from happiness instead!” He laughed loudly: “Yohohoho!! How silly of me, isn’t it?!”
Usopp looked down at the workbench. He was holding a bunch of super-small springs in one hand and had just realised that if he put them down again they’d just get mixed up with the normal-small springs and the super-small screws.
“Here, hold this,” he told Brook, dropping the super-small springs into Brook’s bony hand. Then Usopp moved his stuff around until there were tidy piles of each type of equipment on the workbench. He held out his hand and Brook returned the springs.
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
“Yohoho! My pleasure!” Brook scooted a few inches closer to the workbench, tilting his head to one side as he gave it another look full of curiosity. The posture was quite different, yet Usopp was reminded of nothing so much as Luffy on his stomach as he would edge closer for a better look, chin resting in the palm of his hand. “Any other thing I can lead my assistance too?”
“Well…uh…hold on…” Usopp looked around, then picked up a small white cup right by his feet (he’d just put it there before for fear of Brook accidentally knocking it over.) It had a certain potent mixture in it, one that was still too thick and sludgy to be useful. He put a spate in the cup and handed it over to the musician. “Yeah, you can stir this for a while. But don’t do it too quickly or it might spill.”
“Leave it to me!!” exclaimed Brook. “I know all about stirring beverages, do not worry! Yohohoho!”
“It’s not a beverage!” protested Usopp forcefully. “Don’t drink it or your stomach might go KABOOM!” He gestured widely, knocking one of the neat piles of small springs over.
Brook’s upper eye ridges shot up. “I shall be careful!” he promised. “One certainly wouldn’t want something like THAT to happen!…” He trailed off: Usopp glanced at him in confusion, frowning and tapping his fingers involuntarily.
“…Not that I have a stomach, of course! Yohohoho! Skull joke!” finished Brook, and Usopp relaxed.
In all likelihood, Usopp thought, there was a good risk Brook might get too excited at some point and end up spilling most of the cup’s contents. That happened often enough with Luffy, after all (though practically never with Chopper). But he figured that was the price you paid for keeping your door half open.
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And I love the descriptions of Usopp's bits and bobs and projects, and how he misses being outside. Despite tabasco mishaps and potential spills.
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(And I love your icon! Wish I had more than Basic Account at LJ so I could get a Brook icon...among others.)
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I can understand where Usopp is coming from. Probably afraid that his rejoining the crew was as much a dream as Brook's. Pretty scary.
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I wasn't thinking that consciously about Usopp, but I can see him thinking so, yeah. Or else why would he be so edgy when he's working alone?
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