“You see this? I’m not only dead, but dead with style.” WB pirates
“Oh look at that,” Thatch states, shaking out the newspaper as he leans back in his seat, looking far too smug for this early in the morning. “Someone is dead.”
“Who this time?” Kingdew asks, sneaking the plate of bacon closer to Ace. A bribe to keep his own plate safe from wandering hands. “Because if it’s Whitey, I call bullshit. She’ll die when the deity in command of this world forces her to. And I still wouldn’t believe it.”
Ace seems to accept the bribe, shoving a piece into his mouth and chewing slowly, “you say that like Whitey’s going to lose a fight.”
“You’re right, foolish of me to consider that,” Kingdew nods solemnly, smacking Haruta’s hands away from his bribe. “We don’t steal from our siblings.”
“Ace’s hands are literally on Marco’s coffee cup!” Haruta shoots back, glaring when Ace smiles brightly. “I see you for what you are thief.”
“Stop picking fights,” Marco sighs, taking his cup back from Ace and taking a sip. “Someone died?”
“Do you see this?” Izou demands, interrupting Thatch before he can answer, slamming another copy of the paper. There were always plenty of papers around, since none of them could share. “I’m not only dead, but dead with style.”
Jozu blinks slowly, squinting at the paper in a way that showed he regretted leaving his glasses somewhere, “How tragic. We’ll hold a funeral for you in just a few hours. I think we should use blue flowers.”
“I’ll make a feast, Izou liked marzipan, didn’t he?” Thatch smirks, carefully avoiding Izou’s fan coming down for his head. “So much marzipan.”
Haruta grins impishly, “We should dress a couple of the ship cats up in Izou’s things. I’m sure that he would love that.”
“Haruta!”
“Kotatsu likes his robes,” Ace offers slowly, glancing over to where Izou’s slowly turning red in outrage. “I bet if we asked him nicely, he’d wear one. And there’s all those hair things. We could all wear one as tribute!”
“You’re all disgusting, horrible siblings!” Izou hisses through his teeth. “I would trade you all for one little sister.”
Marco smirks, glancing up at Izou over the tops of his glasses, “You can’t trade us for something that you already have. I wonder if O-Kiku has heard about her poor big brother, needlessly slaughtered. I should call her and check up.”
“Marco, do not flirt with my little sister!” Izou hisses, looking dangerously close to snapping at one of them. “It’s bad enough that you flirt with everyone else we meet.”
“It’s okay, Marco. I’ll help,” Ace laughs, ducking under the table when Izou lanches over the table at him. “If Izou’s sister is anything like him, I’m sure she won’t notice she’s being flirted with unless someone explains it to her.”
“I hate you,” Izou mutters darkly into the table as he finally sits down and drops his head against it. “I should never have left home.”
“We love you,” Namur promises, patting his back.
