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These days not many could have the pleasure of beholding the owner of the Heart Seat; or more accurately, no one but Doflamingo could. Corazon had always been very silent and secretive, as expected from the elite officer of the Informant House, an excellent spy himself. But, being one of Doflamingo’s elite executives meant having a great public reputation, being the representative of the family, and, as the King’s right hand and last remaining blood, Corazon should have had a more frequent presence. (Besides, Rocinante had nothing to hide now, he had already betrayed the original reason for his supposal betrayal long ago).
To be fair, upholding a public image had never crossed Roci’s mind, ever, and certainly not now. Trebol was the only one who had a problem with his lack of presence, so he would continue doing so just to spite the other.
Roci would keep telling himself that to make an excuse for Corazon’s silence. He still had things to hide from the family.
Copies of all the information he had on the family’s plans now, but with no plan of sending or where to send them.
A muted den den mushi with contact to the fleet admiral
His 14 years with the marine.
Still, the same old things he had to hide when he went undercover, only this time, everything was meaningless.
Just like him.
So when there was no mission came directly from the king himself, no task to do, Corazon would quietly wander to the outskirt of Dressrosa, chain-smoking and let his existence melt away.
Rather than making a public reputation like how the owner of the Heart seat should, fuck that.
Today was one of those idle days, but the past seemed to be just a bit too persistent. Or more precisely, Tsuru was.
While it took Sengoku exactly 52 missed calls and one kingdom to get the message that his adopted son betrayed him; apparently, it would take more to convince Tsuru to give up on said miserable child. She figured out calling was pointless so she forced him to receive her messages by sending them with the News Coo. Roci never understood how they succeed in finding him time after time, how they were so hell-bent on making him reading the damn letters. This time it drove him off the cliff, watched he landed on the sand after rolling a good while on hard rocks. Upon confirming that he (unluckily) was still alive, it proceeded to peck him again and again until he took the letter; then left Rocinante laid on the sand, physically and mentally numb, just stared at Tsuru’s neat handwriting without really reading anything. He already knew how heart-broken Sengoku was, how welcome the marine would be if he continues giving more intel, how there was still a chance of bringing Doflamingo to justice and there was still hope… That wasn’t what she wrote in this one, however. The government was considering offering Doflamingo the position of Shichibukai in fear of his growing influence – Roci saw that coming the day they took over Dressrosa, still he hoped for the impossible, and again, look at the result.
Roci didn’t remember how long he had been on the beach, but he ran out of cigarettes at one point, maybe burnt them as well as his cloak but he could not care less. The journey back was uneventful, he hid from everyone instinctively, retreated to his private wing of the castle like a shadow. He was so tired, but sleep didn’t come to him very often these days. Corazon took a pack, then two, then five, and headed to the watch-tower. There was something about being alone with an open space that calmed him, even just a little. It gave off an illusion of freedom, of hope…or something, anything… Roci needed to smoke quite badly now.
“Corazon.” Came the only voice he had heard in these past few months. Doflamingo stood at the doorway of the observation room, eyes unreadable as ever, but the lack of smiling was more than enough of an indication. His brother was seriously pissed. Rocinante did a panic once-over for possibilities and came up with nothing while Corazon kept an indifferent look and put the cigarette in his mouth, finally. Then it hit him, the same time as Doflamingo’s voice did.
“Who did this to you?” “This” must be referred to his bleeding mouth and/or several bruises hidden under his clothes; less likely to be the latter, as not much of his body was left uncovered. Roci felt the ache, at last. It was a fairly tall cliff, he should be amazed that he didn’t have a concussion or broke any more bones. But there was no time for miracles, Roci could felt the weight of the other’s gaze on him. The situation itself was laughably mundane, but one wrong move could be extremely fatal; Doffy did burn down an entire village for one bump on the road that one time; it’s hard to predict what punishment he would bring in this state. Even though it was just a desolate beach, it was Roci’s favorite place on the island. And he News Coos could only found him safely there.
Corazon gave a sheepish smile, gaze lowered as if he was shy. “Fell down while taking a walk”, he signed, movements were a bit jerkier than usual. “I’m good, just need a smoke”, he put his hand in his pocket and stood still for a bit. Instead of the lighter, Corazon pulled out the pack of cigarettes and extended it toward Doffy.
“Beautiful sunset up here. Join me?”
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@conquiistador
