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[ Despite being a pretty decent hype man, Buggy is about to be disappointed by Mihawk's nigh unfailing pragmatism. ]

That depends. Our forces just returned; most people need time to recover from that sort of thing.

[ Not him, is the implication there. He takes a thoughtful sip as he eases off of the oven and walks over to the desk. ]

And we'd need some sort of a plan for Crocodile to approve. [ A beat. ] We should convince him to come with us.

[he knows that mihawk is right about the rest period, but buggy still grumbles with impatience for the reality of it. the glass of rum is becoming a fidget toy for him, the way he takes little compulsive mouthfuls as he paces around the carpet.

as mihawk drifts out of the kitchen, buggy's hands dart to the bottle to refill his glass, but they pause with both in midair when mihawk suggests bringing crocodile along. so far, handling the two of them individually has been more or less manageable for him; having both of them within torture distance during a battle would be... stressful.

how would it feel for the world government, though?]

That would send a really strong message...

[one the other emperors would be sure to read loud and clear.]

[ Both one of those feathered brows and the edge of that sharp mustache tick up a little, almost devilishly. ]

Precisely. [ He drawls. ] A unified front for a serious slight. And besides, it wouldn't do for that hook to go getting rusty.

[ Now, that is some shade. Mihawk is still irritated about the accusations from earlier, even if the main suspicion had undoubtedly been cast onto Buggy.

The bright eyes drop to his glass, considering a moment before he holds it out for the hand to top off. ]

[mihawk talking shit is extremely funny, but the idea of crocodile hearing it does give him chills a little bit. buggy's grin is crooked, a little queasy.]

Hahah.... yeah... United front. That's what I was thinking.

[he finishes pouring rum into his own glass before the hand with the bottle in it floats toward mihawk and does the same.]

That does mean me too, right?

[ The question earns a couple of blinks; it seems Buggy's bemused him. ]

Obviously.

[ Not just because he's the emperor and their figurehead, but the clown has been on every other mission out in the field before. Overall he's been an asset. ]

Did you not want to go?

No! No, of course I want to go.

[surprising himself to realize that's true, in spite of the danger presented by the world government's naval forces; even when mihawk is at his most intimidating, buggy can't deny that the raids and skirmishes have been a lot of fun. it's a fucking rush to be supported by powerful allies... he'd forgotten what that was like.]

Croc seemed pretty mad tonight, that's all. [another drink; he wanders idly over to touch one of the wooden bedposts, to see if it's as smooth as it looks.] I just wanna make sure he doesn't forget that I'm useful.

[ Mihawk gives a dismissive little wave of his hand, turning towards his desk. ]

He has a temper, as do you. It will pass. You must know he didn't run his last plan for Utopia on rash decisions.

[ He is fairly confident when Crocodile will try to betray him at least, and it's too early yet. He suspects that is true for Buggy, mostly because pushing him out as a scapegoat at this point would just mean one of them having to take his place. And for what? A civilian cruise ship? Crocodile tried to make an entire country eat itself alive. ]

[that is, at least, exactly the sort of level-headed thinking that buggy needs to smack right up against in order to calm down - the unintentional comfort he was hoping for. neither crocodile nor mihawk would be as tripped up by this play as buggy would. is, clearly.

then again, that does remind him.]

What about you? You're not mad anymore?

[ Mihawk has picked a couple of newspapers off of the stack, but now he glances over to Buggy. Evidently he hadn't seemed to think anything of the impact his words might have had even if they proved, nonetheless, helpful. ]

About what, exactly?

About the frame job!

[maybe mihawk's anger at the time was due entirely to being blindsided, exacerbated by crocodile's suspicions. but it had seemed worse. maybe buggy just can't conceptualize how people can let go of their anger that easily.]

You were pissed off too, I saw you. Heard you carved off a chunk of my island about it. Where'd that go?

Into the sea, obviously.

[ Oh, but Buggy probably meant the anger, not the island, right? ]

Of course I'm still angry.

[ Mihawk reaches to turn the chair at the desk to face to the side, towards the bed. Despite his claim, the motions are graceful, measured. He picks up a few of the papers while he sips his drink, then moves to go and sit on his own bed, passing Buggy on the way. ]

Anger can be honed like molten iron. It belongs to me and I will wield it, not the other way around.

[ With that, he tosses the papers onto the bed and sits on the edge, folding one leg over the other. He only adjusts a little once he has. ]

[buggy moves a little bit out of mihawk's way, but stays more or less attached to the bedpost, one hand on the wood while the other carries the glass of rum. he's starting to sway a little, like there's music in his head - good sign that the alcohol by volume is kicking in. but he's paying attention, watching the swordsman with interest, as he casually drifts close again.

wielding your own anger like a weapon. what a concept for a clown.]

You're just always in control, huh?

[ The bedpost itself is sanded, stained, and lacquered to smoothness. By average standards, it's impressive insomuch as the frame has obviously been customized. Buggy's hand rests on a little cross, the shape of the post not wholly unlike a king on a chess board.

Mihawk tilts his head at the question, raising his glass to take another cool sip while he watches the other drift closer - or is that just drift in place thanks to the rum, tethered to the post like some partly deflated party balloon? ]

We'll need a story to publish when we take over the press.

[the bespoke bedposts are absolutely fascinating to him at the moment. he's still paying attention to mihawk, but he can't seem to stop toying with the shape of the cross, as if he could take it off and play with it. gradually, the nervous energy is filtering out from under his skin, gliding on a rising tide of warm liquor, but he's reluctant to leave.

if he's honest with himself, it's because he doesn't want crocodile to catch him while the gangster is still in a bad mood. at the moment, mihawk's chambers seem like the safest place on the island until he wears out his welcome.]

You mean besides the fact that the World Government tried to pin their atrocity on us?

Well, even that much needs formatting. We can't simply just publish "we didn't do that" and leave it there. You do realize that, don't you?

[ He opens one of the newspapers and makes to hand it to Buggy to study, as if perhaps the clown has never beheld one before. ]

That's how much is typically in an issue. I think it'd be amusing to parallel it, if it's possible.

[glaring at him, buggy attempts to snatch the paper out of mihawk's hand.]

Yes, I realize that. But don't tell me you're gonna be submitting pieces for publication.

[ His brows raise a little at that. ]

You don't think I could write an article?

[ Mihawk isn't saying he will, but the fact Buggy seems to be implying he shouldn't is a feather ruffle, albeit one he's trying not to make obvious. ]

I dunno about couldn't. But I'd be real surprised if you did.

[he drinks again, shaking his glass a little at mihawk before he tilts it back. big difference between could and would. leagues, in fact. oceans.]

And I happen to think something like this oughta fall under my supervision. I'm all about the media.

Hence why I bring it to your attention.

[ No one should say he can't be diplomatic... ]

These things are better drafted in stability rather than chaos, don't you think? Once we have our new printing and distribution, we'll want to send things right away, won't we? And we've some time to spare while our forces recover. There's no reason not to say exactly what we want to and look just as good as the World Government.

[ A beat, wherein he realizes his concern would also be Buggy's concern. ]

And remember, we do need to pitch this idea to Crocodile.

[buggy brightens immediately at that; he'd been a little wary, expecting to be shot down for trying to take more than he's given but prepared to make his case. turns out he doesn't have to. god, he loves it when people agree with him.]

Maybe I should go tell him right now. He's making plans already, he'll want to know what we're thinking.

[plus buggy would really love to be able to bring crocodile a good idea.]

Or do we need to draft something first...

We need a plan for taking the facility and to allay possible concerns. Saying we'll draft up a paper in the next few days should be enough.

[ He takes a swig of his glass, the yellow eyes tracking side to side as he reads something distantly - in his mind, rather than apparently. ]

We should have an answer for everything Crocodile might ask. Do you understand that as a concept? Even if he disagrees or has his own ideas, and likely he will, at least we have something to offer. As you said, he'll want to know what we're thinking. We shouldn't sound shallow, now should we?

Yeah, I get it. You don't have to talk to me like I'm stupid...

[he's grumbling to his drink. feel free to ignore him.]

How much of this have you considered already? Because it doesn't seem like you're coming up with this off the top of your head.

If you feel stupid based upon what someone says to you, that's your issue.

[ He's had a few shots of rum by now, so not everything is going to get caught by the filter. There's also the fact he's not scared of Buggy in the least... ]

I've been thinking of some of it since we discussed creating our own paper.

[ Another discussion he's had with Buggy, some time ago. ]

I'm fairly certain of where we should target. Now as to what security awaits us there, I've no idea, nor what it takes to run such a facility. More like as not, we'll want to keep whoever works there on the paper and distribution center alive.

[buggy bristles, and comes very close to derailing the entire conversation just to defend his perception of mihawk's general attitude thanks to the glass and a half of rum that he's gone through already. fortunately, the rum also makes it easier to lose his train of thought before it can carry him someplace annoying.

he recalls the conversation. more specifically, he recalls having his suggestion of cartoons rejected with unnecessary prejudice (because of course he does).]

We could send spies. I have a few people I'd pick for a job like that. Try to get the layout and the day-to-day operations. But shit like that takes time. Do we really have to wait that long to answer an insult like this?

[ One day they're going to get into it for real. Possibly tonight, depending how the rum and the conversation goes. But Mihawk barely cares about how he shoots his mouth off around Buggy on a sober day - it's probably more a question of how much liquor it's going to take to shoot off his. ]

Crocodile may already have them, or someone who can contact someone who knows.

[ That's the asset their underworld crime boss brings to the table besides just sitting behind a desk in judgment.

Mihawk reclines back enough to prop himself up on one hand, the other one musingly swirling his glass over his bare chest. Nevermind this isn't port. ]

What else should we be concerned about?

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