Nonchalant
Sofia peeked her head out of the hallway and when she was sure the coast was clear, she draped the large, pink feather coat over her head and slithered out of the room. After she was able to get Doflamingo's bedroom door closed she dropped to the flour with her legs sprawled as to lay as flat as possible, and let the large article disguise her body. Again she checked for any activity before scuttling down the hall toward the staircase. When there was just a few more doors to go, the next one on her left opened and she halted suddenly. She lay as flat as possible underneath the heap of feathers.
As she moved about, loose drug powders and smoke blew into the air around her. The walls began to move and her body became numb. Through her lightheadedness she saw that the man who had left the room stared at her for a moment then went about his business. When the coast was again clear, she began to scuttle as fast as possible to the stair case but bumped her head into the bottom step. Sofia's mind scattered but she shuffled up the stairs until the door above her opened. She froze and sprawled herself on the steps. Two men walked down the stairs. They spoke as they passed her, "Look, it's the Captain's coat."
"That damned drunken tweaker, leaving his shit everywhere."
"Is that normal?"
Then they were out of earshot and Sofia climbed up the stairs and hastily squeezed through the door. Blinded by the bright sun that burst through the feathery layer, she was quick to become disoriented in the warm light.
The deck was abuzz with activity as colorful men and women and animals went about their business on the deck of the flagship Carnevale. After waiting around a moment for her next rout, a young boy with purple dreadlocks approached her with a pole. "Leave it to the captain to have a huge, pink feathery mop head." Without warning he stabbed the pole into the feathery heap and began to slide Sofia and the coat across the deck while saying to himself, "Such an odd man that just spills a gram of bump down the staircase and says, 'just someone go mop that up.' What a queer fellow." The entire trip her eyes were tightly shut and her mouth clamped to prevent herself from screaming in hysteria. He shuffled Sofia around in a circle while she choked on a cloud of blow that attacked her with the ferocity of an ice storm. She held her breath to keep herself from coughing horrendously or else screaming form sudden claustrophobia.
Soon enough the boy left her there with the stick balanced between her and the railing. Peeking out of her cloak, she saw she was at the foot of the stairs. She was almost to her destination. All that was left was to get up these stairs. Quickly, she looked around her and then scrambled up the stairs as fast as she could carry herself without tripping –which didn't average out to be fast at all. Only once did she have to stop while a harpy flittered up and then back down the stairs.
Then she got to her destination. Her target was in sight. Doflamingo was curled up in his throne of pillows on his enormous, canopied bed while gently guiding the wheel several feet away. He was instantly looking at her with an inescapable grin. Not a word, not a sound or movement.
Sofia remained underneath the coat and traversed the last couple feet until she was at Doflamingo's side. The coat was gently lifted off her head and she was now eye to eye with The Joker.
"Good job. You really did it." He fully pulled the coat off of her and pulled it over his shoulders. With an engulfing arm he pulled her to his side.
"You're damn straight, asshole; none of those dumb motherfuckers knew I wasn't your coat, or a mop!"
Doflamingo began to laugh unstoppably until he noticed that Sofia had removed the tank top that she was wearing beneath the coat. A perverted grin began to leech across his face until she thrust her tank top into his arms and pulled his coat over her shoulders. She settled herself into the pillows and he stared at her in confusion.
"Now you have to go sneak to the kitchen in just that, pretending you're all incognito and just a random ass tank top, to steal me a fucking plate of cookies, milk and a blunt and back. I dare you, asshole."
A/N: I don't own Doflamingo. Or Monet, I guess. Yup. I hope you liked it.