[ that's about as much information as he was looking for — just a confirmation, because now he at least knows roughly what it feels like, a spirit watching you.
when they enter the room, law takes in the decorations (if they can be called such), and when he sees the posters, he. well.
pulls the brim of his hat downward, the only sign that he's somewhat embarrassed. (but then — is he really one to talk? at least cora's not gotten a good look at his tattoos yet, hopefully. or the mark of his pirate crew... or its name... hopefully. goddamn, when he made the decision to dedicate his entire life to cora's legacy, he didn't exactly think he'd ever meet him again and have to own up to all of that.)
to distract himself, he looks around the room, observing the drawings. he guesses the little girl in the drawings is the one who has made them — for a brief, brief moment, he thinks of a little, smiling girl (though with brown hair instead of blonde), and then he quickly, with practiced ease, pushes the memory away.
some of his memories he'd weaponised himself, using them as a tool to push him forward. others... are still too dangerous, weapons he's never really learned to defend himself from. so he locks them away instead.
he grabs kikoku, and setting it to lean against the wall, he simply sits down on the floor, right next to the door.
then, with a nod towards the posters, ] Are those... how you knew? About Dressrosa?
[ if he'd somehow got his hands on his bounty posters, maybe he got some information about what happened, too. ]
no subject
when they enter the room, law takes in the decorations (if they can be called such), and when he sees the posters, he. well.
pulls the brim of his hat downward, the only sign that he's somewhat embarrassed. (but then — is he really one to talk? at least cora's not gotten a good look at his tattoos yet, hopefully. or the mark of his pirate crew... or its name... hopefully. goddamn, when he made the decision to dedicate his entire life to cora's legacy, he didn't exactly think he'd ever meet him again and have to own up to all of that.)
to distract himself, he looks around the room, observing the drawings. he guesses the little girl in the drawings is the one who has made them — for a brief, brief moment, he thinks of a little, smiling girl (though with brown hair instead of blonde), and then he quickly, with practiced ease, pushes the memory away.
some of his memories he'd weaponised himself, using them as a tool to push him forward. others... are still too dangerous, weapons he's never really learned to defend himself from. so he locks them away instead.
he grabs kikoku, and setting it to lean against the wall, he simply sits down on the floor, right next to the door.
then, with a nod towards the posters, ] Are those... how you knew? About Dressrosa?
[ if he'd somehow got his hands on his bounty posters, maybe he got some information about what happened, too. ]