Letting everybody know that I'll be sleeping in the Moon's galley for a while. Colder air makes the stump too sore to move around easily, and it's warmer in the kitchen.

Since it seems like everybody else is getting nightmares all of a sudden, if you need help getting to sleep, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve that might help. I don't give a damn if you have to wake me up. I'd rather not wake up to some half-asleep fool burning the ship down while trying to make something warm to drink.

[Natsuno's voice filters through, his words slightly slurred because he's been into the rum. It might only be early evening, but he started awhile ago.]

It's been a year.

[He lapses into silence for a moment. He comes back sounding mournful.]

He died a whole year ago. What am I doing? Everything gone, just, gone. Who's expecting someone to die at eighteen? We still had things to do together. He had a new stupid game even that he was going kick my ass at. He told me before he...he wanted to ask Ritsuko-san out.

[He whines a little.]

He was such an idiot. Why did I have to meet him?

[There's a clunk of something hitting the table, possibly his head, possibly the bottle of rum in hand.]

I miss him.

[Written]

Don't forget lots of citrus in the next port. Last place didn't have much. Scurvy is not an option.

Birds need more variety. Running low on fruit in general, and only so many ways to prepare vegetables and bread.

Use last of calf guts for chum. Starting to show sig


[Voice/Action]

[Zeff abandons the journal mid-word once his little crew has gathered, forgetting to close it so people can overhear the old chef railing at them.]

[He's mighty displeased at the moment as he stands in front of the galley crew of the Moon. It's obvious that he's trying to hold off on the kicking heads in due to there being so many ladies in the galley this month. (He suspects this was on purpose to prevent concussions.) He holds up a cast iron skillet which is now partially rusted.]

I found this soaking in the dish water. For the last damn time, the cast iron doesn't get soaked or soaped! The damn surface is ruined, and we'll have to sand off the rest and re-season it before we can cook with the shitty thing. Even better, we're going to have to re-work what's being served since we can't use it until that's been done!

[He smacks the skillet down on the counter, glaring at his galley crew. If he ever finds out who's responsible, it's going to either be a scathing lecture or a swift kick to the skull.]

Today's kitchen assignments are going to be shuffled around to compensate. If you don't like where you're at, deal with it.

[The old cook sounds a little less gruff than normal.]

Not a bad view from up here though I expected sky sailing to be a bit more complicated. Never would've figured it'd be like sailing on water. Anybody who's been to Skypeia or some other place like it, was it about the same?

[It's nice weather out, so Zeff's moved some of his kitchen prep work--peeling potatoes--outside so he can enjoy it. That and so he can see more of the Sky Islands.]

[The peels come off in long, even ribbons which he puts into one pot. The peeled potatoes he puts into another. He'll wash both before he cooks them for tonight's meal.]

[Still just because he's in a good mood doesn't mean he won't send anyone who tries playing with the food he's got out overboard. Annoy him and hope you can fly.]

So I know this is going to sound a little out of the blue, but I was wondering just how many people out there would call themselves engineers? I've been thinking about piecing something together and I wouldn't mind a little extra help.

[And because she feels like she has to ask for reasons]

Hey Ace. Is your head feeling any better there, champ?

[That last word just slipped out]

Who the fucking hell comes up with the amounts for bounties around here anyway? Because they're total bullshit.

[Huff huff.

Then mutters:]

Guess at least I don't have a shitty messed up poster.

[SO MUCH GRUMBLING, THOUGH.]

Since we're going to be stopping for supplies, put in any special requests now while I can get the ingredients for it.

Also, Captain, we need to replace one of the water barrels. It's starting to show signs of rotting, and I'm not going to put anything the crew's gonna drink in it.

[Hello Spades and Bloody Roses! This here be one very proud and happy Heron Princess! Despite the sounds of Zeff grumping and yelling in the background, Leanne is happily chirping and singing. This goes on for a few more moments before Leanne turns to the journal.]

Supper is ready! I made it myself with Chef Zeff's guidance so I hope that everyone likes it. [So proud of herself you have no idea, Spades. So freakin proud as she goes now to close her journal and sets the tables.]


[ooc; Leanne went to Zeff for some cooking lessons and this is the result of the first lesson. Fear for your stomachs, Spades and Bloody Roses. Just about all of the food is overcooked with some other touches that Leanne added to almost each dish as Zeff midway through the lesson had to deal with his Phantom Pain issue. Pray for the mercy for your stomachs as Zeff will make sure that all of it will be eaten.]

[Audio]
After that last disaster in my galley, I suppose the only way to make sure you all get the rules is to write them down. If I have to, I'll nail the damn page to the wall.

[Written]
( Cut for image size. )
[Audio]
[And switching back to audio.]

The only exception to the second rule is if I'm not able to do my job which will likely be when I'm dead or dying, and the latter's questionable.

And if you think I'm not allowed to send you for impromptu swimming practice, it was part of my deal with the captain when I signed on.

Also, Captain, I'll be needing to replace what was ruined in that fire next time we hit port.

[The script that starts appearing on the page is neat and precise if a bit dark, the pressure being applied getting across extreme irritation which would undoubtedly be in the writer's voice if he were talking.]

Other worlds. Magic journals and gems. The Grand Line made more sense even on its craziest days. Even the Devil Fruits follow more logic than this whole mess.

Seeing as how finding one of these gems is the only way back and those idiots are more likely to sink my restaurant the longer they run it without me, I'm looking to sign on as a ship's cook. Sooner rather than later.

[And the writing stops as Zeff snaps the book closed and tucks it under one arm, hobbling along on his peg leg towards the market. He may as well scope out what's available so that way he doesn't have to waste quite so much time before his ship has to sail.]

[He's getting too old for this mess.]