"I've never tasted this before... was it on the ship?"

"Not until recently, it wasn't. It is actually Nami's creation. Do you like it?"

Zoro smirked at the Mason jar of deep orange liqueur and swilled it around before taking another swig. "Kind of sour but…not bad," he blubbered through the drink. He downed half of it and gave the jar an appreciative whistle. "It's really got a kick to it!"

"I remember Nami saying that as a child, she observed her mother make liqueur out of tangerines to sell in town and, having seen it done so many times, she more or less memorized the process," Robin's head recounted. "It was my idea to give you some as an apology. Do you accept it?"

"Now that I know what's going on, it's really not a big deal anymore. Speaking of, you should've come out with that plan of yours to begin with. For all I knew, you and Nami were taking a page out of Blackbeard's book!"

Robin frowned. "I doubt that man even reads, Zoro. How dare you compare me to him?" He shrugged and took another hearty gulp, when a hand sprouted from his shoulder and pinched his cheek. Alcohol gushed from his mouth and wet his front. "OI!"

"In any case, I'm glad that you are not in any worse condition. I've read about some dreadful prisons that string their captives up by the ankles to drown their brains in their own blood until they die. Compared to them, I would say you are quite lucky.

"So morbid…"

"I didn't really expect that guard to have the key to your cell, but at least I was able to make you a bit more comfortable until the others break you out. I have to go now though—it seems as if Brook has stirred up some trouble…"

"Oh.. wait! What about my katanas?!"

"Sanji kun and the others will bring them when they break you out, now-"

"You gave Dartboard my katanas?!"

"The marines would have confiscated them if we had not-"

"Better them than that idiot cook!"

"Highly irrational…"

"What if he gets a chink in one of the blades?! They ain't kitchen knives, you know!"

"Indeed, they are not," and her head vanished in a flurry of petals leaving Zoro disgruntled on the floor of his prison cell.

"OI! ROBIN!" He bellowed at the shadowy spot where she had just been. "TELL HIM IF I FIND ONE SCRATCH ON THEM, I'LL MINCE HIM!" His threat was met with nothing but his own echoes and the groans of his fellow prisoners. He sucked his teeth and brought the jar back to his mouth briefly before retracting it. "Why is it so sour?! Great buzz, but it's like I'm eating a lemon!" he smacked his lips and took another short sip. "Really nice buzz…though" he relaxed against the wall when he felt the prisoner opposite him staring again. "Can I help you?"

"Man… where'd that hot, head-floor-chick go?"

"Dunno."

"She coming back?"

"Probably not."

"When she comes back… can she like… can she bring me whatever it is you're having?"

"I said she's not coming back."

"You look… so… mellow, man. If head-babe ain't coming back… can I… like… get a nip of that?"

"No."

"Bummer…hey… can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"Oh man! You got me! HA!" the prisoner burst out in dimwitted laughter and Zoro rolled his eyes as he took another quick sip. "Hey… but like… for real," the prisoner started again, regaining his senses. "Do I know you from somewhere?" Zoro took a break from the Mason jar and set it down next to him. He stood, and sauntered to the bars to try to pick his chatty neighbor's face out of the shade. A flame from a torch nearest the cell flickered and illuminated his face, so that Zoro got a fleeting glimpse of bushy hair framing a long, gaunt face. The prisoner had one long scar on his face reaching from his hairline to his chin, dividing his features into neat halves. Despite the extreme humidity and temperature, no one had thought to replace his thick hoodie and sweats with something that breathed. The only consolation he probably had was his flip flops. The prisoner raised an eyebrow at him and grinned lazily. "Well?" he urged.

"Never seen you in my life," he returned to his drink.