it's much too cold here
Jan. 8th, 2011 09:02 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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onepiece_300Title: it's much too cold here
Rating: PG-13 (for a single curse word!)
Media: Fic
Pairing/Characters: Trafalgar Law
Word Count(if applicable): 300
Prompt: Temperature
Notes: Finally got to writing my favourite character! :) This is all a bunch of headcanon, mind you. This man needs a gosh darn tag. Please.
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It’s much too cold here.
He bundles up and heads to work- a blaring white building with white walls and beds and sheets and floors. Trafalgar sniffs in the sterile air and decides it’s too clean for his liking. At the harbor 500 miles away the air is chilly and salty and the sea is partially frozen. He likes it in the operating room- the fresh, metallic smell of blood and it’s red red red.
In his office, a sign outside says Head Surgeon, he dreams of endless seas and warm climates. This North Blue city is too cold (both the people and the weather), too stale, too boring and too white. He’s a genius; one of the youngest doctors known to the medical community. Trafalgar doesn’t understand why he doesn’t feel full.
This ass-kissing city is fake in its smiles and formalities. They demand conformity and neatness and everything must be white. Trafalgar wants to paint it red and black and yellow. He keeps doodling a jolly roger on the margins of very important papers.
There’s a thing called One Piece out there. If he gets that he’ll be a king with his own rules. He likes the sound of that, presses his ballpoint pen deeper into those very important papers to draw the jolly roger. His jolly roger.
He decides this is not the life for him. This structure, this sterile air, this cold weather and this utter feeling of oppression to bend backwards for a neat white place with stale cold air.
He wants to break rules, smell salty sea air, and to do whatever the fuck he wants without someone saying no. Trafalgar has been planning; he has a submarine being made and loyal followers. He’s going to go.
It’s just much too cold here.
fin.
Rating: PG-13 (for a single curse word!)
Media: Fic
Pairing/Characters: Trafalgar Law
Word Count(if applicable): 300
Prompt: Temperature
Notes: Finally got to writing my favourite character! :) This is all a bunch of headcanon, mind you. This man needs a gosh darn tag. Please.
--------------------------------------------------
It’s much too cold here.
He bundles up and heads to work- a blaring white building with white walls and beds and sheets and floors. Trafalgar sniffs in the sterile air and decides it’s too clean for his liking. At the harbor 500 miles away the air is chilly and salty and the sea is partially frozen. He likes it in the operating room- the fresh, metallic smell of blood and it’s red red red.
In his office, a sign outside says Head Surgeon, he dreams of endless seas and warm climates. This North Blue city is too cold (both the people and the weather), too stale, too boring and too white. He’s a genius; one of the youngest doctors known to the medical community. Trafalgar doesn’t understand why he doesn’t feel full.
This ass-kissing city is fake in its smiles and formalities. They demand conformity and neatness and everything must be white. Trafalgar wants to paint it red and black and yellow. He keeps doodling a jolly roger on the margins of very important papers.
There’s a thing called One Piece out there. If he gets that he’ll be a king with his own rules. He likes the sound of that, presses his ballpoint pen deeper into those very important papers to draw the jolly roger. His jolly roger.
He decides this is not the life for him. This structure, this sterile air, this cold weather and this utter feeling of oppression to bend backwards for a neat white place with stale cold air.
He wants to break rules, smell salty sea air, and to do whatever the fuck he wants without someone saying no. Trafalgar has been planning; he has a submarine being made and loyal followers. He’s going to go.
It’s just much too cold here.
fin.
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Date: 2011-01-09 10:33 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-01-09 11:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-10 04:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-12 03:17 pm (UTC)I can see this being a bit canonical. Law doesn't look like he can bother with rules other than his own twisted honor. I'm sure his idea of medical research would terrify a staid, established institution.
And yes, the cold.}X