Robin's Imagination #175

Emerging from the embrace of slumber, Cedric stretched his form lazily within the confines of the captain's quarters aboard The Silver Gale. As his consciousness gradually sharpened, he noted the dim illumination that filtered through the windowpane, signaling the cover of night that had fallen outside. With a languid yawn and a stretch of his sinewy limbs, he coaxed his body into a state of wakefulness.

The captain's quarters offered a modest comfort-- enough to provide a brief respite from the ceaseless adventures that punctuated his days. Rising from his resting place, Cedric ambled over to a nearby water plate.

The cool liquid offered a revitalizing touch as he splashed it onto his face and cleansed his mouth, clearing away the remnants of sleep that clung to his senses.

Dressed in his newly-gained black coat, he stepped toward the ship's main deck.

His path to the outdoors was momentarily interrupted by a tempting sight—a bottle of rum perched tantalizingly on a nearby surface. Cedric didn't hesitate, seizing the bottle and allowing the liquid's warmth to spread through him as he savored a leisurely sip.

The ship's main deck unfolded before him, a tableau of camaraderie and relaxation that exemplified the bonds that tied his eclectic crew together.

Amid the dim glow of lantern light, the scene was one of tranquil festivity. Flying fish riders had descended to the ground, forming a circle as they sang and swayed to their own harmonious tunes, their laughter intermingling with the crackling of a bonfire's flames.

Kieran, a figure marked by his quiet intensity, was perched on the deck. His lithe frame leaned casually against the main mast, his focus consumed by the meticulous task of honing and cleaning his gleaming collection of knives.

Cedric's gaze shifted to the ship's railing, where Nico Robin stood in an aura of quiet contemplation. A history book, a vessel of knowledge and intrigue, was held delicately within her grasp. Her profile bore the serenity of one immersed in the pages of time.

Duval, ever enamored by his own reflection, appeared lost in a world of self-admiration, his gaze captivated by the visage that stared back at him from the mirror's polished surface.

The scene's tranquility was punctuated by a sudden burst of energy, as Baby Five's figure catapulted toward Cedric. With an exuberance that matched her impulsive nature, she engulfed him in a tight embrace that radiated warmth and familiarity. Her voice, a mixture of relief and uncontainable excitement, greeted him with heartfelt joy. "You're finally back, captain!"

Tears streamed down her cheeks, resembling cascading waterfalls as they traced a shimmering path across her expressive face. Her grip remained steadfast. "It's so boring here!" she lamented, her words tinged with a playful pout. Her voice grew plaintive as she added, "No one lets me help with anything!"

A warm smile graced Evan's features as his hand affectionately met Baby Five's head. His voice, a soothing balm to her concerns, flowed with reassurance. "Is that so? How could they?" he mused, his tone a mix of understanding and exasperation.

Seeking to offer solace and a glimpse of the future, he continued, "We'll leave this place soon. I'm sure we can find something for you to help with where we're going..."

Baby Five's countenance underwent a swift transformation, her once-worried eyes now shimmering with eager anticipation. Her voice bubbled with excitement as she leaned in, unable to contain her curiosity. "Where are we going next?"

Cedric's grin was infectious, and his eyes twinkled with a playful gleam as he responded, the very embodiment of an enigmatic tease. "Ah, that's a secret," he declared, his tone conspiratorial. "It'll be a nice surprise..."

Duval, an observer of the exchange, couldn't help but voice his exasperation at the apparent difference in treatment. His accusation, pointed and undiluted, was directed squarely at Cedric. "What the hell is with this difference in treatment?" he exclaimed, his frustration palpable.

His accusatory finger oscillated between Cedric and Baby Five, his expression reflecting a mix of bewilderment and mild indignation. "How come she gets a hug while I get a mouthful of dirt?"

In response to Duval's vociferous complaint, Cedric issued a scoff of his own, his demeanor unyielding. With a gesture that was both dismissive and sardonic, he retorted, "Have you looked in the mirror lately?" The implication, though unsaid, hung in the air—an allusion to Duval's fervent obsession with his own appearance.

Cedric's eyes, sharp and unwavering, met Duval's gaze with an unspoken challenge. He maintained his jesting tone, even as his words held a note of brusque candor. "Even a mouthful of dirt is too much for you, you filthy man," he stated matter-of-factly, leaving no room for equivocation.

Duval's irritation was palpable, a mixture of vexation and bemusement at the dynamic he had unwittingly stepped into. The contrast in Cedric's interactions wasn't lost on him, and he found himself caught between incredulity and amusement.

But the final straw came in the form of Baby Five's playful defiance, a silent mockery that stung more than words ever could. As she concealed herself behind Cedric's back and stuck her tongue at him, her taunting gesture triggered a comical mixture of exasperation and reluctant laughter from Duval.

Before Duval could give vent to his simmering frustration, Kieran's voice interjected, his tone steady and pragmatic, as was often the case. His attention shifted toward Cedric, the weight of his words poised on the precipice of his lips. "Regardless of our next destination..." he began, his gaze direct and unyielding, "You might have brought the necessary funds to complete the ship, but now we are officially broke."

A pause, a beat that hung heavy in the air, before he continued. "I managed to gather some money from the pirate crews we had to deal with here," he explained, a faint edge of pragmatism underscoring his words, "but it's not enough to sustain us on a long journey."

Cedric's response was typically nonchalant, an easy shrug that hinted at his confidence in their collective abilities. "Our destination isn't far off," he declared, a spark of mischief igniting his eyes, "and there will be plenty of pirates we could rob along the way."

His grin was a testament to his adventurous spirit, the thrill of potential exploits lighting up his expression. "And by the time we're done there," he continued, his voice carrying a tone of playful assurance, "we'll be set for life when it comes to money."

Kieran's eyebrow arched in response to Cedric's proclamation, a subtle curiosity etching itself onto his otherwise composed features. "Now you've got me curious," he admitted, his voice a measured blend of intrigue and mild skepticism.

Cedric's chuckle resonated through the air, an echo of his enigmatic nature. "You'll just have to wait and see," he teased, the corners of his lips lifting in a half-smile that held a touch of mystery. His words held the promise of secrets yet to be unveiled. "Like everyone else," he added, allowing a touch of dramatic flourish to punctuate his statement.

Cedric's gaze swept across the deck, a casual gesture that masked his underlying curiosity. He chose to shift the conversation, his attention drawn to the absence of two individuals who were conspicuous by their lack of presence.

His voice carried a casual curiosity as he voiced the question that had surfaced in his mind. "Where are Den and Chuchun, by the way?" The query hung in the air, an inquiry that floated amidst the camaraderie of the group.

Kieran's response was measured, his shoulders lifting in a nonchalant shrug that mirrored his pragmatic demeanor. "Den said he'll stay at the dry docks until the ship is finished," he explained, a thread of understanding woven into his words.

The hint of a wry smile played at Kieran's lips as he continued, his tone laced with a mixture of amusement and resignation. "As for your pet bird..." The words carried a weight of familiarity, a shared understanding of the bird's behaviors and habits that had come to define their experiences.

Nico Robin, attuned to Kieran's mention of Chuchun, couldn't help but react, her own curiosity piqued. Her ears perked up, a subtle testament to her hidden fascination with all things adorable and endearing. In her mind's eye, she painted an image of a diminutive, charming bird that would perch atop Cedric's shoulder, its melodious chirping a delightful accompaniment to their future travels.

Kieran's narrative continued, his words shifting Robin's imagination from gentle coos to something vastly different. "He's made a habit of hunting down sea beasts and sea kings around Water Seven," Kieran concluded, his tone matter-of-fact, as if recounting the habits of a dear friend.

In an instant, Robin's expression transformed, her imagination giving way to a new reality. The image of a cute and gentle creature dissolved, replaced by the visage of a formidable and predatory vulture, its appearance fierce and its call as grating as the shriek of a storm.

The contrast between her hopeful expectation and Kieran's blunt description was enough to invoke a mixture of disappointment and bewilderment, a testament to the unpredictability that often accompanied life on the seas.

...

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