Barranca is built into the steep sides of a river canyon striped with layers of orange and red rock. Shops and homes are carved directly into the cliffs with railed walkways and stairs running in all directions to connect the different levels. Murals, some several stories high, are carved into the steep walls, their details brought out with pigments smeared thickly onto the rock. The sides of the canyon are connected by rope bridges, each lined with dyed streamers made from the wool of some kind of local long necked sheep.
To top it off, the city's people are dressed in colorful patterned clothes woven from the same material. All in all, it makes for a vibrant view.
Franky and Sanji, seeking to restock the ship, have made their way from the large harbor at the mouth of the river to a market on one of the wider ledges. A long overhang of rock serves as a roof for a string of stalls divided up by cloth partitions. The people here seem to base their diet mostly on a mix of black beans, corn and squash with pork, lamb, and seafood serving as their main sources of protein.
Something about the scents coming from one particular stall draws Sanji in. It's a small stand selling local fare, but he can see that it's getting steady business as they move away toward the walkway's outer railing after making their purchases. Sanji hums thoughtfully as he takes the first few bites of the pork corn dumpling thing. There's something here he can't quite put his finger on.
When he's done he strolls back over and gives the vendor his best winning smile, after all, she's not only a gifted cook, she's beautiful too, graced with big doe eyes and inviting curves, "Pardon me radiant goddess of the culinary arts, but you're cooking is so amazing I couldn't leave without offering my praises."
The young woman running the food stand is a bit taken aback by the way Sanji flares his nostrils at her, but she smiles at him politely, "Well, my Ma actually makes them. I just sell them."
Sanji is undeterred, "Do you think your talented mother would be willing to speak with me? I would love to know what spices she uses."
The vendor studies him uncertainly for a moment, "I'm not sure, she can be very, um, picky about who she talks to. She might be willing to tell you if you're polite and compliment her cooking."
"Of course, a lady deserves to be praised," Sanji coos at her.
Franky snorts, "Yeah, that shouldn't be a problem."
The vendor sighs, "Maybe it will put her in a better mood. Ma is always complaining that my sister and I don't have any talent for this stuff. She doesn't get that we want to do something more with our lives then cook. Did you know there's a place called Water Seven in paradise where they build ships that travel all over the world? I want to travel there someday."
Franky perks up at this and, before Sanji knows it, they are discussing the many fine qualities of the shipwright's home island.
Sanji lights a cigarette and leans on the outer railing enjoying the view for a few minutes. When he snuffs the stub the conversation is still going strong, they have somehow moved on to the topic of rigging and the qualities of the rope they use to make bridges in Barranca.
The chef clears his throat, "Excuse me, my adorably frank flower, but could you tell me where I can find your esteemed mother?"
The young lady blinks, as if surprised Sanji is still around. She points, "Take those stairs up till you get to Rose Street and then follow the walkway up river till you see a green door with a mermaid painted on it. Tell Ma that Maritza sent you."
He nods and smiles and she gives him a polite smile in return before turning back to her conversation with Franky.
Sanji heads off up the stairs. After a fifteen minute walk he finds the green door with a white painting of a split tailed mermaid stenciled on it.
A woman in her late thirties, short and curvy, as the people here tend to be, but with lighter coloration then Maritza, answers the door. Her bun and apron give her a motherly air.
He smiles and gives a bow, "Hello mam."
The lady smiles in return, "How can I help you young man?"
Encouraged he continues, "My name is Sanji. I'm a chef and, while touring this picturesque city, your radiant daughter Maritza introduced me to this lovely specialty of yours. If you'd be willing to teach me the recipe, I'd be happy to help with the prep work. I even have a couple recipes you might be interested in…"
As he speaks her smile transforms into a frown of disapproval and a look comes into her eye that reminds Sanji of Zeff when he's daring his apprentice to say one more thing and see what it gets him. "Arrogant boy. You think I'm going to tell you something like that just because you smile at me." She continues, building up steam "Men shouldn't even be cooks, they treat everything like it's a chance to show off. That's no proper attitude for a kitchen. My daughter should have known better then to waste my time and yours by sending you up here." Sanji takes a breath to respond, but before he can utter a word, she slams the door in his face.
He stares at the door for a few moments, then turns away, pulls his cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one up, taking measured draws as he works his way back down to the main market.
When he gets back to the main thoroughfare and the food stand Franky and Maritza are still chatting. They are discussing methods of pumping water to high places now.
Maritza smiles when she sees him coming back, "Did you find it? Did my Ma answer your questions?"
Sanji smiles around his second cigarette and shakes his head, "No, but I have some ideas about winning her over."
Maritza nods her head uncertainly, and then hesitates, "I wanted to say sorry for my comment earlier. Cooking just isn't for me, you know?"
Sanji rolls his cigarette back and forth in his mouth thinking about his recent encounter, "Not at all. As I'm sure Franky has told you, Water Seven is a beautiful city, full of opportunity. If I were you I would want to get there as soon as possible."
The young woman stares at him for a second, then blushes and shades her eyes with her hand, "I should have warned you better about my Ma's temper. I knew she had some opinions about men cooking, but I didn't think she'd just turn you down flat."
He blows some smoke out of the side of his mouth, "At least I didn't get kicked in the head."
Franky snorts at that, "That's setting the bar pretty low, bro."
Franky and Sanji say their goodbyes and start to work their way back along the walkways and stairs to the docks.
When Sanji finishes his second cigarette and doesn't light up another, Franky decides to ask, "So what happened?"
The cook gives a wry smile, "Mrs. Regina doesn't think men should cook, I'll change her mind though."
Franky scowls, "Sounds to me like she's a b-" Sanji thumps the cyborg in the shin with the side of his foot without breaking stride.
"Zeff is the same way only with women. He apparently can't wrap his senile brain around the idea of teaching without blunt trauma being involved and he doesn't think women should be put through that. She's no worse than him."
Franky, raises his eyebrows and looks down at Sanji in confusion, "I thought you, ya know, agreed with him about that."
Sanji hunches his shoulders in irritation at having to explain, "A real man would never lay a finger on a woman. Doesn't mean I agreed with the crap geezer trying to give me a concussion half a dozen times a day. Thanks to him, practically the only women I ever got to see were on a date or with their families."
Franky looks thoughtful, and then says with an air of realization, "So you basically never had an actual conversation with a woman until you joined the crew. That explains so much. Do Robin and Nami know about this?"
Sanji growls and jumps up into a spinning kick, driving his heel toward Franky's forehead, "Oh Shut The Fuck Up!" Franky crosses his arms in front of his face and skids back about twenty feet before regaining his footing. Sanji is stalking off ahead of him.
Franky chuckles and strolls after, continuing in the general direction of the harbor. He catches up to Sanji leaning on the railing of a landing overlooking the fish market. Women's clothing in Barranca favors tight colorful scoop necked shirts that emphasize all the ins and outs of the city's naturally curvy natives.
Franky leans on the railing next to the cook. It is a rather nice view from up here.
After a few minutes Sanji straightens up, "Ok let's get back, I have some cooking to do. I want to try some things out with the new recipes I've collected. This place has tons of interesting ingredients. Did you know they have seventy-two different varieties of potatoes here?"
Franky considers this information for a moment, "It's all French fries in the end, right bro?" he slaps Sanji on the back and laughs.
Sanji snorts, "Potatoes have to be at least as interesting as rope. Did you really spend the whole time I was gone talking about that with that lovely vendor?"
Frank shrugs, "We talked about water pumps a bit too."
They walk along in silence for a few minutes, both contemplating the strangeness of the things their crewmates find interesting.
Franky thinks about what Sanji told him about disagreeing with his mentor, "You would teach a woman though wouldn't you? If she wanted to learn to cook?"
Sanji glares up Franky as if he's a moron, "Of course, it's a man's duty to help a lady's dreams come true."
The chef gets a dopey look, "How could I deny a lovely lady my personal instruction if that's what she wanted." After a couples seconds Sanji punctuates his statement with a warbling noise, indicating he has gone off on a personal tangent to the conversation.
Franky adds, "Even if she was really bad and broke your stuff?"
Franky can practically hear the other man's daydream shattering. Sanji stutters, "Well…of course…"
"And wasted food?" The shipwright presses.
Sanji doesn't respond and when Franky looks down he realizes he's gone too far. The chef is starting to hyperventilate. Franky thumps the younger man on the back, "Oh look," he casts around for something to point out, "Uh, a sale on halibut."
It works surprisingly well, Sanji snaps out of his daze and trots over to the stand, "Oh, I know the perfect dish for that!"
Franky thinks to himself that they need to form some kind of contingency plan in case this ever does become an issue. He doesn't want anyone traumatizing his crewmate and ruining the kitchen he built after all.
When they get back Franky starts sorting through the supplies he ordered, which are now piled up on the deck. Sanji goes into the kitchen and checks on the large sacks and barrels of dry goods that have been stacked in the pantry and the perishables that have been stored in the freezer and fridge. He spends some time shifting things around to his satisfaction.
He grins to himself as he finishes and starts unpacking the smaller packages that have been left on the counter. They contain local ingredients and specialty items he wants to try out.
As he sorts through his finds, he considers what might win the older chef over. She has found part of a secret that he's only seen in one other place. To an extent he can sympathize with her disappointment that her daughters have no interest in it.
On the other hand, he's pretty sure the recipes wouldn't even work for someone who has no fire in their soul when it comes to cooking. She would be wiser to find an apprentice and stop trying to douse the passion her daughters harbor for other things.
But that is not the problem of the moment.
Barranca is a busy port and as a result there are local variations on a wide variety of dishes; however the food Regina's stand offers is considered the native fare. She's obviously a very traditional sort of person, both in her cooking and her views.
So, he should probably stick with local fare.
He had gone through hell to acquire all those recipes, but he wouldn't be able to call himself a proper chef if he'd been content just to memorize the creations of others.
When he'd gotten strong enough to create some breathing room for himself, he'd spent most of free time experimenting with what he'd learned. He'd even had some interesting conversations with some of his adversaries regarding the recipes he won from them.
One of the strangest things about the Attack Cuisine recipes is that they are made of common ingredients. They would hardly be useful otherwise.
He considers which combinations would meld well with the local fare.
The sun is couple hand spans above the horizon when Sanji walks back up the stairs, stacked wooden boxes strapped together and carried over his shoulder. He knocks on the green door again.
When Regina opens the door and sees him her polite smile quickly falls into a scowl. Sanji speaks quickly, "Mam, I assure you cooking is my life. I take it very seriously. Give me a chance, I won't disappoint you."
He smiles at her, and opens the lid on the top box, "Perhaps we can trade?"
She looks down at the cookies covered in powdered sugar and narrows her eyes, "You're also about one hundred years too early to presume to teach me anything."
Sanji's eyes widen in surprise at having his cooking so summarily rejected before it is even tasted. "Mam,-" but abruptly finds himself face to face with the grinning painted mermaid again.
Sanji lifts his left foot and taps the toe of his shoe on the ground in an unconscious gesture before closing the lid on the box. He momentarily sets the stack on the ground so he can pull out his cigarettes and light up.
He pulls in a deep breath and lets in curl out slowly, then he slings the strap back over his shoulder and strolls back along the road the follows the cliff face down river. The lowering sun brings out the colors of the cliffs, making them glow in pinks and oranges.
He follows the road all the way to the end of the canyon where it rounds out in to a balcony overlooking the harbor. He stands upright, shoulders canted back in a deliberate show of nonchalance as he finishes off his second cigarette.
There's a nice view of the ships in the harbor from here. The sunny is easy enough to spot. He is not the most heavily decorated ship, but he is the friendliest looking.
Sanji smiles, flips his cigarette butt into a trash chute and leaps the railing.
Just as his head drops below the level of the railing he hears a frightened, "No!"
He breaks mid-air and starts to hop back upward, just as a small figure slams into the railing, eyes wide in panic.
Then they look down and find him hopping back upward foot to foot.
The kid's eyes widen in surprise and then narrow in irritation, "There are rules against throwing things over the railings you know." They punctuate this statement by throwing a small paper bag they had crumpled in their hand at Sanji's head.
It bounces off his forehead and he catches it. When he looks back up he is close enough to get a clear look at the kid's face and he forgets to jump for half a second. As gravity starts to take over, he flushes in embarrassment, both at falling and at the reason for his distraction. He silently apologizes to Jinbe.
The kid has a band of black across their eyes, accented with lines of fluorescent blue across their forehead. Their mouth has a stripe of yellow across it, extending from their ears and framing a wide mouth with distinctive serrated teeth. Despite their unusual appearance, their clothing is just a more subdued version of the style of the city, dark pants, a loose, colorful shirt and a bandana tied over their head.
He lands on the wide stone railing and jumps down. The bag they tossed has a few almonds still rattling in the bottom. He takes one and tastes it, honey and chili, before tossing it back with the admonishment, "Don't waste food."
"You don't get to lecture me after doing something like that," the corners of their mouth are turned down sharply and their eyes are slightly wet.
They wipe their eyes and nose with the heel of their hand then wipe their hand on their pants.
After a moment, they self-consciously adjust their bandana and straighten out their shirt in an attempt to look more presentable before offering, "I'm Ripa."
"Sanji," he smiles, but doesn't offer his hand in light of what the kid just did with their palm. Instead, Sanji picks up the top box with the cookies in it and holds it out, "You want these? I made them myself."
The kid looks into the box, lined with cookies filled with caramelized condensed milk and decorated with powdered sugar stenciled into flowers. They eye him excitedly, "You sure?"
Sanji grins back and nods and Ripa takes a couple with a closed mouth smile, "Thanks."
The kid takes a bite and then their eyes widen and they shove the rest into their mouth. After chewing for a bit, they mumble with enthusiasm, "Vese har reeree gud!"
Crumbs fly everywhere and Sanji admonishes, "Don't talk with your mouth full." But he only raises his voice a little bit due to uncertainty regarding certain details about the person he's addressing.
They finish chewing, swallow, and lick their lips with a pleased smile. A moment later, they recall themselves and offer a sheepish, "Sorry, I got distracted by you jumping over the railing…and then the cookies."
They hesitate a moment before admitting, "I actually was following you," when Sanji narrows his eyes, they hastily add, "I wanted to apologize for my Ma being so rude to you. It's kind of my fault."
Sanji blinks a couple times, "You're Regina's kid?"… So that explains the painting on the door. When he finishes processing this, the next realization pops up, "Maritza's sister?"
"Humuhumuku, Yep," she gestures to the cookies, "So I probably shouldn't take those."
He holds out the box, "Here, take it. Trust me, I'm last person who would blame someone for the behavior of their relatives. It's kind of you to be so concerned about a stranger."
Ripa hides a grin behind a lifted hand, "You're nice. Who wouldn't be upset at seeing someone jumping to their death?"
A chorus of strange and malevolent laughter echoes in Sanji's head, "I can think of a few people…" after a moment he shakes his head and demands, "Just take the damn things."
Ripa complies and is soon thoughtfully chewing on another cookie, "You were heading down to the river mouth? Are you a sailor?"
She eyes the box, obviously having difficulty juxtaposing high quality cooking and sea faring.
Sanji nods, "I'm a pirate."
The kid looks intrigued, "Really! Which ship is yours?"
Sanji turns back to the view of the harbor and points, "The Thousand Sunny, the one with the lion figurehead and the cross bones wearing a hat."
When Ripa spots the ship she gasps, "You're a Strawhat?!"
Then her eyes widen and they smack their forehead, "Blackleg Sanji, you helped save Fishman Island!"
Ripa lunges at him and, to his surprise, picks him up and spins him around in a hug despite only coming up to his shoulder. Then she blushes under her stripes, putting him back down, "Sorry. It's just, I have a lot of family there. I've never met them, but my mom cried when she found out what happened."
Sanji gives a distant smile and warbles, "What kind of man would I be if I let all those lovely mermaids come to harm." He misses the disconcerted look Ripa gives him.
After a moment the kid clears their throat, "That's a pretty amazing ability you have. I bet its super fun to fly around whenever you feel like it."
Sanji shrugs, "I'm usually more focused on just getting where I need to go." Ripa wrinkles her nose at this stick in the mud attitude.
He gestures at Ripa, "I'd trade it for being able to breathe under water;" Sanji looks wistful, "There's so many amazing things down there, especially on Fishman Island."
Ripa tugs on their bandana self-consciously, but nods in agreement after a moment, "I'd like to see the Sea Forest someday."
After a few moments, she adds self-consciously, "It's probably not as impressive, but there's a reef a few miles up the coast. I go down there to collect shell fish. The reef forms these tubes, kind of like wells. I like to stand at the bottom and look up." Her eyes go distant and they grin as they picture the place, "It's beautiful, with the sun reflecting off all the schools of fish. There are hundreds of different kinds and every color you can imagine."
Sanji grins, "Sounds pretty shitty amazing."
At his reply, the kid's eyes snap back to Sanji and they pull their lips in over their teeth, flushing at their slip up.
Sanji narrows his eyes, "Ripa," the fish girl flinches, "Beautiful things are worth fighting for; don't ever let someone else take your joy away from you." After a moment she swallows and nods.
Ripa stands staring at the ocean for a minute. She glances assessingly over at him a couple times and then says thoughtfully, "You went through a lot of trouble to impress my Ma. You really want her recipes that badly?"
"I've only seen the like in one other place," Sanji shudders at the memories; "A little cooking is nothing compared to what I went through for those."
He thinks for moment, then asks uncertainly, "Do you think if she knew I'm a Strawhat it would convince her to teach me?"
Ripa looks momentarily excited at this idea, until she recalls something else and grimaces, "Actually," she hesitates, then adds quickly, "It would probably be best if she doesn't find out you're the Strawhat's Sanji."
Sanji bristles, "You're saying she has some kind of shitty problem with me personally? She's never even met me before!"
Ripa wilts, "We found out about Fishman Island being saved because of a letter from my aunt. She went on and on about how, uh, smitten you were with the mermaids. My aunt seemed to think it was funny, but uh, I think it reminded my Ma a bit too much of my Da."
Sanji looks like he might throw himself to his death for real this time. "Your Da?" he asks weakly.
"A sailor," Ripa explains briefly, "He helped my ma leave home and find an apprenticeship here." She adjusts the handkerchief covering her head and adds quietly while looking at her feet, "They got in a big fight not long after I was born."
"Fish tails are exotic," she briefly bares her jagged teeth, "fish teeth, on the other hand, are just weird. He hasn't been back since."
Sanji looks at the young woman slouching in front of him. He pulls out a cigarette and talks around it while he lights it, "It's dangerous out there, he might be dead." He blows out the first breath of smoke, "Or if not, tell me his name, I'll punt him into the ocean for you if I ever run into the bastard."
Ripa laughs, "Humuhumuku, and they say chivalry is dead." She doesn't divulge a name, but the idea seems to cheer her up.
She hesitates then offers uncertainly, "I have an idea to win my Ma over, if you're interested."
He nods, "I'm open to suggestions."
"My Ma really likes rainbow clams. I know where there's a bed that hasn't been harvested yet. If you help me collect them, you can have half the haul, maybe you can convince her to trade."
"That's generous of you," he sounds sincere, she can't tell if he's suspicious or not.
"It'll be a big help to me too. The shells are valuable, but they're really heavy; you can help me carry them back." She clears her throat, "My ma is pretty stubborn, I really think this is your best bet at winning her over."
Sanji studies her for moment and then smiles, "And if nothing else, I'll get to try a new food."
Ripa looks relieved, "Are you still going to be here tomorrow? It's about ten miles across the island to the cove, it would be best if we get an early start. Sound good?"
A/N: This is what's established in the manga regarding mermaids and fishmen:
Female mermaids' tails split when they turn 30. A split tailed mermaid can pass as human, as long as she keeps the lower half of her body covered.
Mermaids, fishmen, and humans can all interbreed with each other and their offspring may be any of the three races. Fishmen and mermaids often do Not bear any particular resemblance their parents.
I hope it was clear:
Regina is a mermaid
Ripa and Maritza's father is human
Maritza is human
Ripa is, of course, a fishman (fishperson, fishwoman?)