@tessofbaterilla The woman is tall for a human--not the towering fortress of a woman Charlotte Linlin was, but close to seven-and-a-half feet. Her eyes are direct and unapologetic on Jinbe's bearded face. "You're the Son of the sea." Yes, yes, he is, and that's a rather blunt greeting. "You were at Marineford." A flicker of pain, there and gone in a flash, passes over her own face, twisting one corner of her mouth. Without hesitation, she takes a step toward him, head tipped back so she can hold that eye contact. "I want to ask you something."
🫧 — Jinbe carefully lowers the crate he was carrying on the wet, sandy ground. It contains mainly provisions he brought along. Lending a helping hand is never easy when distrust, unrest and hostility are this palpable in the air.
He studies the woman with a neutrality that isn't disinterest but cautious goodwill, before giving her an acknowledging nod. "You are correct," Jinbe replies evenly after a moment, straightening to his full height. "I was."
Jinbe's gaze remains on her, calm and steady.
"You wished to ask me something."








