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Shouts and cheers fill the air as lights dance upon canvases of red and white, trapeze artists leaping from hanging bars into each other arms as other members of the circus show off their skills with both flames and blades while the denizens share in the reverie.
Buggy leans back into his seat as he watches both his east blue crew and the former prisoners of impel down mingle about with one another, some showing the cutthroats the tricks of the trade, others sharing stories about their lives and how they ended up where they are today. All of it from the outside made it seem like things were civil, content, Relaxing. But that’s never the case now is it. A restlessness brewing underneath all the fanfare and lip service as more and more requests for mercenary aid and “Protection” start to fill up the office space tucked in on the less chaotic side of the midway, having to filter out what to put on the route cards, the locations, the difficulty on top of who’s going with who. All while trying to keep up the facade of being the best of the best. The genius behind everything that was built on the backs of lies and coincidence.
Despite the influences of both Crocodile and Mihawk the Cross guard was originally the Buggy delivery service and there are just somethings that don’t just go away just cause the company has a different name. The old habits from his east blue days for one, the use of circus terms for another. ‘To keep up appearances of course’ his so-called business partners would say but Buggy knew better. It’s because not even the two former warlords could erase his influence from the crew that he built. From the men that chose to follow Him. Not some overstuffed sandbag with his personal cheese grater. Not some pompous prick that clearly is overcompensating with that big block of steel he calls a sword, although the ghost girl he somehow snipped from Moria can be amusing to say the least.
No Buggy even with his many fucked up and overzealous nature, it was him that guided and coordinated the break out of Impel Down Well part of it was Strawhat but HE got the most out of that madness it was Him managed to not only keep his crew alive in paradise after so many years in the east blue and now….the pieces are now falling into place. The Dream the clown had denied himself now not only in sight, but in reach. Finally after so many years he is back on the same level as so many that didn’t expect anything from him.
But even with so many things going well, even if painful there is only so much a performer can handle before the curtain falls. Leaning forward from his seat the jester steals a bottle right off the table as he starts to depart from the show.
“Going somewhere?” Alvida called out a careful eye tracing over his form. Most of the other “higher ranked” officers had scattered about the big top doing whatever since there was a show going on.
“This suit is getting a little too Stuffy for my taste so I’m gonna find a place with better air flow. Why, you worried about little ol’ me?” the jester raised a smug brow
The woman rolled her eyes at that remark going back to her own drink before flipping him off with a salute. “Try not to trip over it and tie yourself into a not again you oversized ragged doll” a soft chuckle followed her taunt causing it to lack any real real heat behind it. It was nice being able to banter like this again with someone. Almost made the night a smidge better. But there are just some nights where even the most playful banter can help wash the bitterness away.
This was one of those nights…
The moon was bright even with all the lanterns and neon signs lighting the streets of Buggy town. Stars flickering between the light pollution as people mingled about trying their hands at the various stalls or finding another place to drink their woes away after another productive day of labor. The smell of booze, sugar, and animals linger about as our chairman made his way down the midway waving to the crowd as people tried to get his attention offering him a seat with their groups and a tanker or a bottle, anything to get a moment with ‘The Star Clown Buggy’.
Well normally Buggy would’ve been overjoyed to regale his subordinates with his presence. The amount of people in the streets only made his romper feel tighter on his throat and joints. Sure he could’ve used the backdoor to make it easier to get away from all the Gillys but then he would’ve been caught by those lingering behind the tents and booths. Still even while passing the phone tent and hearing the ever present puru-puru and gacha there was someone he had to pick up.
Weaving through the crowd with ease Buggy found himself in front of the barn that holds all of the various wildlife, including a special man made beach so Crocodile can tend to his many fruitwanis. The beasts are absolutely spoiled by the man even though a good chunk of their monthly feeding budget goes to sating the reptiles only. Whatever they weren’t why he was here, no he was looking for his own so called ‘beast’. Richie, the Original Big Cat of the Buggy pirates now oversized house pet.
Yes this was the chairman’s goal, finding his unofficial successor only to find him pigging out on an array of meats without a care in the world. A soft smile pulls itself on Buggy painted face before truing into a scowl as the man berates the lion “YOU GLUTTONOUS PIG WHAT ARE YOU DOING SNACKING AGAIN, I KNOW DAMN WELL THAT MOHJI FED YOU NOT 2 HOURS AGO. IF THIS KEEPS UP THOSE DAMN OVERGROWN LIZARDS MIGHT THINK YOUR A TREAT FOR THEM.” Spooking the feline Richie tried to wave his captain off as if it wasn’t a big deal.
Rolling his eyes Buggy facepalmed at the lion’s carefree attitude. “If that’s the way you want to play this then don’t you come crying to me when you get too big to run away on your own. Now get your furry ass in gear, you're helping me get out of this jumpsuit and keeping any annoying flies away.” Turning with a flourish the clown started matching back towards the fanfare only this time with a lion sullenly following behind. Slipping down the back alleys to save time Buggy led the two to his personal tent.
The festivities sang in the distance as the two entered the tent weaving around piles of parchment, some nicknacks from their travels, and a few bounty posters scattered on the canvas walls. Material stacked in a disorganized pile of various performing acts. A first aid kit slightly neater but still overflowing with different ointments and bandages. A vanity tucked away from the chaos with silly little messages stuck within the mirror’s frame, a reminder to check the docks, a few affirmations, Alvida asking for a new lipstick in the shade she cheekily kissed the note with, a few bottles of product some more worn than others and a small beaten compact that most would think would fall apart if the breeze hit it but well loved all the same adored the table with a small stroll placed in front of it.
A small curtain leading into an offshoot of the tent showing the Captain’s chemical lab, cannon shells opened lingered about the space as the room was covered in scorch marks from different experiments over the years. Thankfully a small fan sat at the makeship doorway keeping any flumes away from the main living space and after the last explosion went awry the top had a nice size skylight.
Buggy did have to commission a shelf to be installed high enough above the work bench to keep water out of his projects but at least Monji and Cabaji don’t have to nag him about properly ventilating the place.
Doffing his hat Buggy tossed it off to the side scratching his scalp as Richie waddled to dust the headdress and setting on top of the vanity batting at the feather boas in glee before remembering his tamer’s boss temper and smoothed it out away from the mirror. Looking at Buggy the lion wondered if red suit he wore was like of some birds would puff up to look bigger then they were…and if it was made out of taffy with how the blue haired man was wiggling trying to grab the latch with all the folds getting in his way. “DON’T JUST STAND THERE YOU OAF. I KNOW YOU CLAWS AREN’T JUST FOR SHOW, GET YOUR STINKING PAWS OVER HERE AND GIVE YOUR BOSS A HAND.” the man yelled as he twisted and turned trying to escape his chosen garment.
Richie, finding this truly amusing, just starts laughing as much as a lion can as he rolls on the floor snagging a piece of the garment pulling it taut, dragging the clown down with him causing the human to squawk. The lion only laughed harder as he pictured a peacock with Buggy’s face on it. But thankfully this does cause the collar to open just enough for the man to grab the latch and rip it apart freeing himself from his fabric cocoon “SEAS BE DAMN RICHIE THIS IS THE THIRD TIME THIS MONTH” the Clown yelled in a fury as he wiggles away from the romper and the lion.
“Honestly…How Monji and Cabaji decided you were supposed to be my heir I will never know.” Running a hand through his hair Buggy saunters over towards the vanity removing his gloves before setting them down on the cherry wood countertop kicking off his shoes under the stool.
Looking about the many jars and bobbles the star clown’s fingers danced only stopping to collect after finding the right set of ointments and cleansers to use tonight, the light catching the redden and callus covered digits as Buggy pops the lid to the first jar an off-white paste slide slowly towards the opening. Shaking the jar a few times, Buggy was able to get a small coin size dollop on top of his palm only for something to catch his ears as he rubs the cream into his hands.
A low baritone purr coming from behind him as Richie has taken the oversized jumper and has decided it would make the perfect nesting material, should it survive a full grown lion making biscuits on it that is. “If you make any holes in it you're gonna be the one to patch them, no begging Monji to clean up all your little mistakes you big lug.” Buggy couldn’t help but chuckle thinking of how much this scene before him reminded him so much of their time in the east blue, when they had finally gathered enough people to run a full size ship and set up the tents at a moment notice, only for Richie to have somehow made it into the storage hold with everyone circus garb and make a fort all while his purrs echoed throughout the hold scaring the rookies shitless for days.
Cleanest the bathroom would be since purchase.
After they had finally found the lion Richie had made every article of clothing into a large bed perfect for naps and had thoroughly gotten his shredding EVERYWHERE. The poor artists had to pick out so many tiny sharp feline fibers from their already uncomfortably tight suits. It might've been tedious to get them all out and keep them away from the lion but having everyone around working together while having to stay firm against Richie’s pleading eye had the crew start up a “Spare Costume fund” just so they could have an extra in case Richie got his paws on them again.
For something so silly and impractical it was a great opportunity for everyone to get to know each other. Sharing stories and singing songs, the inside jokes and new codes they made while the ship sailed to any island under the sun. a type of mundane that one can’t find in the grandline.
This was the type of energy Buggy had been missing, a calm that can’t really be found with anyone other than those who know it, the pure understandable chaos where there are ways to fix it without blood being split, even if the one bringing this peace back is an oversized spoiled lap cat. That still thinks he could take a fruitwani…. He probably could if he’s hungry enough but still, it Richie~ for all Buggy knows Richie is the strongest crew mate form the original Buggy pirates that is the most honest with his desires and intent. Maybe that’s why the Clown sought him out, wanting a break from all the smoke and mirrors, from all the cloaked daggers hidden in words and glances all while tied up with velvet and chiffon bows.
Feeling his mood sour once again he turned back to the vanity mirror as he grabbed the second vial looking for a cloth as he shakes the content activating it before he lets out a small triumphant Ha he uses his thumb to push the vial stopper out wrapping the cloth over vial as he gingerly tilts it on it side letting the liquid spill out into the cloth. Easing the vial back upright, Buggy slides the stopper back into it, setting it back onto the table after making sure it was in tight. Flipping the cloth around in his hand he gently squishes it to spread the contents around before pinching two corners and leaning back placing the rag on his face. The smell of lavender and tea tree fill his nose as he just rests his eyes letting the scent fill his senses.
Taking a deep sigh Buggy gently rubs the cloth, stripping the face paint and makeup from his face leaving only the sun kissed skin from years under the broiling sun and his ever present red nose. Bags hanging under his eyes as the years of stress and fear plastered itself on the man’s features. Hard to believe the man was just entering his forties given how old he looks without his make-up. The stress will do that to you, he thought. Thinking back to all those times the Roger’s had met up with different crews and their enemies, how their faces would be riddled with lines and wrinkles from yelling so much or from furrowing their brows for too long.
Some pirates didn’t have as many marks on their faces, some only had a few laugh lines while others had crows feet dusting the edges of their face. Shanks even had an era of having a near permanent white line along his forehead from where the hat would cover it, that part having finally caught up with the rest of him though. Now that another heir had been chosen, the former duo have found the time to come into their own aesthetics and person hood without the looming weight of Gol.D.Roger on their backs. A mantle that was heavy back then but now, tolerable, Manageable really. Since the clown is kinda using the Roger name to help his cause and legitimize his status as an emperor of the sea now.
‘What do you think of me now Captain?. Your little chemist is all grown up and is keeping up with the big kids all by himself. Even if it took a little mischief to pull it off.’ Buggy sighed looking himself over in the mirror seeing a familiar tired look paired with a bitter sweet grin. A bellowing laugh comes to mind as movement in the mirror catches Buggy’s eye.
Richie has finished trying to make his romper a pile of ribbons and has decided to use it as a plushy instead. Picking it up with both front paws the lion climbs into Buggy’s own bed over top of the covers mind you. And was getting himself ready for bed. All while Buggy just watches him do this from the mirror with a befuddled expression. The Man can’t even send the suit to the cleaners now cause it’s being used as a nap blanket for a full grown “king of beast” all while this house cat in a lion body is making himself comfortable without a care in the world and a loud yawn.
Shaking his head, Buggy couldn’t help but crack a smile at the display before him, even if the pirate mind was off in a different place thinking of another time. Hunching forward Buggy flicks the rag to the pile of laundry while using his left hand to pull out a headband slipping it on as he replaces the jars with different ones as the clown continues the rest of his night time routines, a moisturizer here, a detox there. Our Chairman applied and rubbed various cream and elixirs onto his face and limbs before topping it all off with a gentle brush of his blue locks, getting all the knots and tangles from the day’s festivities out before twisting the hair into a loose bun. Dawning a night cap to keep the hair under control Buggy tiptoed towards his own bed.
You would think this would be an easy fix, just wake up Richie and claim the bed back but our star clown has done that before and rarely does it go as well as it seems. The lion could wake up grumpy, he could be half asleep and take a swing, he might think Buggy was a piece of meat.
(This happened too many times in their early days that Buggy did actually think Richie was going to eat him if he was careful, only for the lion to do that to Alvida shortly after she started sailing with them and he figured out it’s a presence thing. Richie will eat anyone, but if he likes you, you're fine.)
That being said there were simply a few too many variables to consider and Buggy was already mentally drained from a long day filling out paperwork and keeping up with Crocodile commands, as well as physically drained after having to play target practice for Mihawk since it ‘saved on material.’ Does he think being able to pull himself back together after being treated like sashimi is easy? Not even the good kind, the cheap practice fish you get your trainee so they don’t fuck up the good meat.
But alas the Jester would have to figure out how best to squeeze into whatever open space that remained on his bedding all while not being caught by the sleeping predator and turned into a chew toy for Richie to gnaw on. At least with fruit slipping into a spot isn’t that hard, allowing his torso to lift Buggy hovers quietly looking for the scene before him. A mess of pale cream and lavender with patches of red, black and blues framing sleeping beast’s form, so calm and serene. Just the right amount of normalcy to calm the brewing storm hidden behind the clown eyes. A sigh left his floating half as Richie performed a sleepy stretch. Minus it normal adoring crowd of fans to gasp in awe as the lion moved in his sleep.
Only, Richie’s paws had managed to reach the pirate's lower half and pulled it into the bed with him, lifting his feet off the ground and wrapping part of his body within Richie’s feline limbs. The weight holding his legs down as Buggy tried to wiggle himself out of the lion hold. ‘What a way to go huh, how am I supposed to go to the bathroom if this flea bag is going to use me like a teddy’ the clown thought, shaking his fist at the oblivious feline holding him hostage.
‘Well…. At least no one would dare try and wake me up before it’s time for me to get up tomorrow. So long as I don't wake up in his jaw again it should be fine’ Resigning himself to his fate. Buggy lowered his torso back to the rest of his lower half carefully sliding himself into place along Richie mane trying not to pull or put too much pressure on the lion’s hair as he stroked it out of the way. Richie could only start to purr as a dream of grandeur and glory filled his head all while a small plush version of Buggy cheered and praised him, giving him lots of meat and pets.
Yes. It had been one of those nights. Nights where nothing seemed to slow down or stop, when the thoughts of the mind were prone to play tricks on itself to try and keep alert to any possible dangers. Nights when all you need is a little quiet. A routine to perform to help wind down and clear your head. And something or someone warm to weigh all those thoughts down and keep you safe.
When you're undone and uncomfortably numb. You never know who or what will bring you back to reality. So enjoy those little moments even if it’s fleeting. Those are the nights you’ll remember the most.