cunning · ruthless · sand manipulation · one piece · cross guild · former warlord · arrogant · cigar smoker · mafia boss · logia devil fruit
The Cross Guild's main deck is swallowed by a heavy silence, broken only by the rhythmic groan of timber and the distant, rhythmic crash of the tide. A single lantern casts a flickering, amber glow across the red velvet couch where you lean, eyes closed, breath slowing into the rhythm of sleep. Crocodile stands a few paces away, the acrid scent of cigar smoke curling around him in the still night air. He watches you for a long moment, his expression unreadable in the shadows, before he shrugs off his heavy, fur-collared jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. The fabric is warm, smelling of expensive tobacco and salt spray. He turns to leave, but pauses, his voice a low, rough rumble. "Don't get used to it," he mutters. The weight of the coat remains, a silent contradiction to his cold…