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I took months to draw this. Redid many things multiple times. Took my time to add textures, details, make a nice lineart. And it was worth it ! I’m really proud of this illustration !
Zara is my main One Piece OC. In my fanfic she’s bestfriend with Perona and Bonney. I hadn’t drawn them together for years, so I wanted to make a really nice thing. I did it.
Make sure to click on the pics to see more details ! Reblog if you like it ♥
Bonney and Perona are from One Piece, Zara is my One Piece main OC. They are best friends in my fanfiction. I never drew them all together, so I HAD to do it now I’m back to digital (easier to correct proportions, u know).
Bonney is definitly a punk, Perona is definitly a goth, I think everyone can agree with this.
Took several references on Pinterest, for the pose, and for clothes & accessories. Hands are fully not referenced, so they’re ugly haha
Update on this thing, I’ve finished the lineart and the base colours, now I’m onto the rendering/shading/lighting but I’m loosing motivation and interest so I’m actually not sure if I will finish this.
In the mean time, I have done some cool sketches -of Perona mostly- I’ve shared on my Mastodon account.
Another update on this thing. I’m getting closer to the “finish” line haha. Have some details too. I spent so much time on this, redoing so many things 3 times, but I thing I’ll be proud in the end ? And I learnt a lot doing this so, good thing!
Perona sighed for what felt like the fiftieth time in the last hour. She had been sulking in the library since morning, even going as far as skipping breakfast and lunch.
She had sent a couple of ghost roaming the island in search of Zoro and Mihawk. The two had been training, like they always do.
She had sent one back to her room, just to make sure. It had checked the calendar by her bed, the one on which she crossed each passing day to keep track of time. The other was sent to the living room to check the date on the newspaper Mihawk received everyday. There was no mistake.
She usually didn’t mind solitude, but today she felt lonely. Even more than when she had first landed on the island and found herself alone for the first time in years. For the first time since Moria-sama had taken her in.
Damn… She missed Kumashi…
She wasn’t sure what time it was when she finally left the library to go to the kitchen. She wasn’t feeling hungry but she knew that if she didn’t bake she’d regret it later.
She was not a great cook, she knew that, but she could handle herself in a kitchen. Mihawk was the one who cooked for both Zoro and her on a daily basis. Zoro only knew how to make onigiris and she usually cooked vegetables, but that was it. Baking was new.
She walked slowly, missing the usual spring in her steps as if just moving from her place on the armchair was a chore.
Once in the kitchen, she sighed again.
She had to search through too many drawers to find whatever she’d need to bake. She was actually surprised that Mihawk owned everything needed for such a task. She could definitely not picture him baking anything in the gloomy castle. He didn’t seem to be the type who likes cakes anyway. So why did he have each and every ingredient and utensil for it ?
She gathered everything she’d need on the table and tied her hair into her usual ponytail. She was trying this new hairstyle and really liked it at the moment. She slipped the dark apron on too, she’d hate to have her beautiful dress covered in flour or something.
At first, her movements were sluggish and hesitant. She had seen Absalom do it many times and tried to remembered each step, imitating what she remembered he did.
She groaned when she wiped a small drop of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand when she realized it had been covered in flour. However, she didn’t find the energy to clean herself just yet.
Thirty minutes later, she put it in the oven. She looked back at the table, eyeing the mess she had made and pouted. She really didn’t want to clean but knew Mihawk would be a real pain if she left everything like that.
It took her the entire forty minutes the cake needed to spend in the oven to clean the kitchen and get rid of the stains she had left on the table and do the dishes.
She checked on the cake from time to time, watching as it turned a little bit golden and fluffy and the warm smell filled the room. She smiled. For the first time of the day, she smiled.
It smelled just like Absalom’s. It smelled like… home. She missed home. Thriller Bark. Her Family.
She gulped loudly as she took the cake out of the oven, trying not to cry. Her hands were shaking, the cake almost slipping from her grasp and her vision blurry.
She didn’t want to cry. She wanted to be strong. She wasstrong.
She wiped the tears from her face and forced herself to take deep, calming breaths.
With trembling hands, she took the pink and black icing she had prepared and started covering the cake. She wanted it to look cute. She deserved cute. But she knew it’d never be as beautiful as Absalom’s and it broke her heart a little bit more.
Slowly, she tried to write something on the cake, trying to copy his writing and the loops in his letters. She did her best but her vision was still blurry and she couldn’t see half of what she was doing.
She was so focused that she didn’t hear the two men coming back from their training. The two of them had stopped at the door, unsure of what to do when they saw her sobbing quietly above a cake.
Slowly, Mihawk stepped forward, his tall body looming over her and he frowned.
He was strangely hesitant when he put his large hand on her shoulder. He startled her and she spill icing on the kitchen table but he didn’t comment.
“You’re back.” Even if she clearly tried, her voice was lacking its usual enthusiasm.
He did not answer her, instead he frowned at the cake.
“You didn’t tell us.” She cringed, feeling as if he was scolding her like a kid.
“It doesn’t really matter.” She shrugged, rubbing the back of her hand against her eyes to make sure they were dry.
“Doesn’t seem like it.” Mihawk’s deep voice shook her. “Zoro.” He called but didn’t turn to look at his green-haired apprentice. “Set the table. Use the silverware in the bottom drawer. Tonight’s dinner is special.”
The man raised an eyebrow but did not comment and left quickly.
“Get changed, wear something nice.” The warlord told her, his eyes boring into hers. “Tonight we’re celebrating.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, pushing her out of the room with haste.
He rolled his sleeves up to his elbow and took a look around him, trying to decide what to cook for this special occasion.
He settled on one of her favourite meals : curry. The dessert was ready. He looked at it with a frown.
There, the sloppy black icing read Happy Birthday Perona.
