[Marco is just hunched over his tea almost like it were a rum. He's nursing the cup like it was a bottle, and looks about as deadpan as you might expect. Unflappable. The phoenix. First division commander turned captain of the once largest, most powerful crew in the world.]
[But to anyone who knows him well enough, it's pretty obvious he's having a really rough day. No tears, but tired. His shoulders are hunched like a man who's carrying the weight of that large and heavy crew, the weight of the islands, the weight of the sorrow of losing the wind beneath his wings. For Marco, he looks like shit. And even scruffier than usual.]
[Action]
[But to anyone who knows him well enough, it's pretty obvious he's having a really rough day. No tears, but tired. His shoulders are hunched like a man who's carrying the weight of that large and heavy crew, the weight of the islands, the weight of the sorrow of losing the wind beneath his wings. For Marco, he looks like shit. And even scruffier than usual.]