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"Miracle person?" Straw-boy echoes, squatting on the broad stone rim of the massive steam vent with no apparent fear whatsoever, hands dangling between his knees.
"Indeed!" Bentham confirms brightly, peering over the edge. Goodness, how are they going to get down there without boiling? They know steam baths can be a very helpful element of a complete skincare regimen, but really, this is a bit much.
Straw-boy tilts his head, eyes curious. "Why do they call him that?"
Bentham blinks, straightening up. How to explain? "They say Queen Iva has a Devil Fruit that lets him do miraculous things to people's bodies," they settle on eventually. "He can turn men into women, and women into men."
"Huh," Straw-boy says, and squints at him for a moment. "But Bon-chan can already do that, right? I remember, cause you were Nami, and she got all shouty about it."
Ahhh, memories. "Well, I wouldn't be seeking out Queen Iva for my own benefit, of course," Bentham explains. "My own powers serve me just fine for my purposes- and anyways, what would be the fun in always looking like what I am? No, no. No ambiguity in that at all. No fun! But she's a hero of mine, and I think it's important for her to be out there in the world."
"Important?" Straw-boy repeats.
"Certainly! Before Queen Iva was imprisoned here, people journeyed to Kamabakka Kingdom from far and wide, seeking a treatment only he could provide!" Bentham says, gesturing broadly.
"Oh, so he's a doctor?" Straw-boy says. "He should meet Chopper! Chopper's gonna be the best doctor in the world, so he needs to know alllll the secret special doctor stuff."
"...In a way!" Bentham says. "But not like how you're thinking. The people who go searching for Queen Iva aren't sneezing and coughing all over the place. They've got a sort of, ah, a mismatch in them? A contradiction."
Straw-boy blinks slowly. It's transparently clear he doesn't have a single clue what Bentham is saying.
"Think of it like this, Straw-boy," explains Bentham, after a moment spent breathing in the hot, stifling fumes of Level Four and wondering if Straw-boy has ever heard of such advanced topics as ‘homosexuality’ or ‘gender studies.’ "Some folks are born with bodies that don't match who they are inside. And that's no good at all." They shake their head, a few more times than is strictly necessary. "That's no good at all!"
Straw-boy shakes his head too, whipping from side to side farther than a head should go, uncanny, but there's no understanding in his eyes when he stops and frowns and puts his chin in his hands. That's a shame, of course, but then Straw-boy isn't, in Bentham's experience, much of a talker. And even if he was, he's got plenty else on his mind right now.
Oh well! Bentham jumps up. "Queen Iva, though!" they exclaim. "Queen Iva will help anyone experiencing such dysphoria, free of charge!" Bentham throws their hands out. "He brings people closer to their truest selves! He opens wide the gates of impossibility! He's a hero and inspiration to queers the world over!"
"Yeah!" shouts Straw-boy, enthralled if still uncomprehending. "He sounds awesome!" And there's that big smile on his face again, captivating as ever.
Starving and imprisoned, Bentham has sometimes questioned the whim that led to their capture and Straw-boy's daring escape, but it all clarifies itself once more in the vivacious brightness and gallant friendship Straw-boy’s brought down with him down to these inhospitable depths.
"Heroes are pretty neat," adds Straw-boy, absently.
Bentham drops back down to sit with their feet dangling over the Burning Hell. If they don't boil alive, this will be good for their skin. Probably. "Queen Iva's the greatest there is," they tell Straw-boy.
"Uh-huh?"
"Certainly!" says Bentham. They lean on one hand. "Have you ever felt like your body doesn't fit you quite right?” they try. “Like there's something missing? Or something that shouldn't be there, but is?"
"Oh! Like when I ate my Devil Fruit," Straw-boy says, smacking his hands together.
Bentham's eyebrows go up. "Oh-hoh? How so?"
Straw-boy nods enthusiastically. "When I ate my Devil Fruit, it was by mistake. Shanks was mad! And it felt really weird at first, 'cause I couldn't control my body like I could before."
Interesting. Now that Bentham thinks about it, Straw-boy uses his powers with more casual fluidity than almost anyone else he's ever met, with the possible exception of the former Miss All-Sunday. Even in the littlest movements, shaking his head or stretching out his fingers. "How old were you?"
"Seven," Straw-boy says absently, canting his head to one side, then momentarily distracting himself with a scramble to make sure his namesake hat doesn't tumble into the Burning Hell below. "Ah! But it wasn't really a bad thing. 'Cause it made me free, too."
Bentham blinks, taps their fingertips against their cheek. "Free?"
"Yeah! It was what I needed," Straw-boy says, utterly certain. "I used to be a really weak little crybaby! And I hated it, 'cause other people always needed to rescue me. If I'd never ate my fruit I don't think I'd be very happy."
It's difficult to picture; Straw-boy, despite his youth, has a certain sort of gravity to him that makes it nigh-impossible to imagine him as anyone but who he is. Bentham, as a person constantly in flux, is somewhat fascinated by it.
"And you're happy how you are?" they ask, even though they don't really need to. The answer's evident enough.
Straw-boy smiles, bright in the gloom. "Yep!"
Bentham nods, clicks their tongue. "Well, then, I suppose you can think about what Queen Iva does for the lost of the world that same way! Sometimes people can't be just who they want to be, because of a problem with their bodies, and they need help getting free."
"And Queen Iva can do that?" says Straw-boy, entranced.
"And Queen Iva can do that!" confirms Bentham. And oh, what an honor it would be to meet such a luminary, transgressive presence! Bentham glances, considering, at the pirate crouching beside them over certain death, golden straw shading his eyes. "She can, and she has," they say. "And it's a truly incomparable injustice that she's trapped in here, when she could be out in the world creating miracles!"
Straw-boy nods, sharply. He's certain and singular and himself entirely. Transgressive in his own fearless, sunlit way. What an odd creature Bentham's friend is. "I wanna meet her too then, for sure!"
Then two more screaming fools come barreling into them, and they all tumble down to the fires below.