[That gets Zoro a sharp look as Sanji's brow furrows in confusion.]
Light-headed...?
[But he's about to have his own question answered, as suddenly a wave of nausea washes over him, strong enough that he sort of grabs at the breakfast bar in alarm because he abruptly feels like he's going to pitch sideways off his stool. He sucks in a breath, cringing against the sudden unpleasant onslaught, completely unaware of what Zoro's about to see.
Which is...pink. Lots and lots of pink. Waking up on some kinda shitty island, sick with panic and worry over missing crewmates with nothing but nightmares of pink and frills to keep him company. The scenes slip by like a slideshow, shot after shot slotting into place and taking Zoro through the first days of Sanji's stay at that place.
His own personal hell.
He's being chased for the majority of it, by big, burly men in dresses and high heels, all calling out to Sanji, trying to say he's one of them, one of them—
For the rest of it, he's fighting. Fighting and getting his ass handed to him. There might be glimpses of a certain pink dress in particular, too, and of blonde hair extensions and terrible makeup. But the memory fades away before that picture can form in any real clarity, though Zoro might be able to put it together.
Meanwhile, Sanji's over here just trying to take slow, deep breaths until the dizziness goes away, one hand now pressed against his temple.]
no subject
Light-headed...?
[But he's about to have his own question answered, as suddenly a wave of nausea washes over him, strong enough that he sort of grabs at the breakfast bar in alarm because he abruptly feels like he's going to pitch sideways off his stool. He sucks in a breath, cringing against the sudden unpleasant onslaught, completely unaware of what Zoro's about to see.
Which is...pink. Lots and lots of pink. Waking up on some kinda shitty island, sick with panic and worry over missing crewmates with nothing but nightmares of pink and frills to keep him company. The scenes slip by like a slideshow, shot after shot slotting into place and taking Zoro through the first days of Sanji's stay at that place.
His own personal hell.
He's being chased for the majority of it, by big, burly men in dresses and high heels, all calling out to Sanji, trying to say he's one of them, one of them—
For the rest of it, he's fighting. Fighting and getting his ass handed to him. There might be glimpses of a certain pink dress in particular, too, and of blonde hair extensions and terrible makeup. But the memory fades away before that picture can form in any real clarity, though Zoro might be able to put it together.
Meanwhile, Sanji's over here just trying to take slow, deep breaths until the dizziness goes away, one hand now pressed against his temple.]
What the fucking shit...