Chapter Text
“I AM THE *hic* great and powerful Buggy. . .and I could've totally beaten them up if I wasn't. . .*sniff sniff* WHY! WHY DO THESE THINGS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO MEEEE!! I should've NEVER joined this, this, THIS GODFORSAKEN GUILD! UHE3EhSIgH *unintelligible sobbing* I hate my life. Grrrr, it's all your FAULT SHANKS!! THE ROOT OF ALL MY PROBLEMS AND ISSUES STARTED WITH YOUUUU! *more unintelligible sobbing*”
Alvida rolls her eyes, exasperated. He really is too dramatic for his own good. She continues to tend to her ally and friend’s wounds, inflected by none other than the two resident bigshots.
They must’ve been really pissed. . .this is worse than usual. She winces at a particularly nasty cut on his arm. Nothing I can’t patch up, but still. I’ll tell Galdino and the rest to stay out of their way for the rest of the week.
“They jus’. . .they jus’ don’t respect me *hic*”
Alvida scoffs. “Who’d respect someone that looks like this?” She gestures at the mess of a person in front of her. “At this point, I can’t tell what’s make-up and what's a bruise.” Buggy tries to wack her on the shoulder, but his hand just slips off and collides with a glass of whiskey, which spills on the counter and off of it.
Alvida looks over the counter and scowls. Great, another mess I’m gonna have to clean up.
But when she looks back at the clown, her annoyance fades away, pity taking its place. Hunching over yet another glass, eyes bloodshot and complexion an ugly mix of colors, Buggy just sits there stewing in his misery. It almost makes her want to drown her sorrows.
Alas, at least one of them has to be sober, and in this case it has to be her.
“Look, Buggy, I'm not gonna lie and say it's going to get better. It'll probably only get worse.” He hiccups again, and wow, if a hiccup could sound depressed it would definitely sound like this. She pats his back a couple times and continues. “But, the one thing I can guarantee is that you won't have to face it alone. Me and Galdino and the rest of your hilariously large crew will be there to support you. Not when you're actually getting beat up, but definitely afterwards.”
Buggy smiles, a little wobbly but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah. . .yeah, you're right. I may be a, a punching bag, but I'm a FLASHY one with tons of loyal followers. . .they're jus’ jealous of me, that's all.”
Alvida doesn’t think that’s entirely true, but she’s glad that her impromptu motivational speech made Buggy feel even the tiniest bit better.
“Ok then, now how about you wash up and get some sleep. Think you can get back to your tent or should I walk you there?”
Buggy shakes his head and hops off the stool, only to fall face-first on the floor. Ouch. But before she can help him up, he manages to get on his feet. “This Genius Jester doesn't need any help! I've got this.”
“Yeah, and I’m a yonko,” Alvida deadpans. She ignores Buggy’s mutters about his own yonko status, and picks him up and slings him over her shoulder. Ignoring his slurred complaints, she makes her way to his room.
Ok, current To-Do List:
- Put this loser to bed
- Order an underling to go and clean up the whiskey
- Plan a week-long vacation to a nearby island
and
- Get some beauty sleep, after all of this, I deserve that at least