( dr stone) François
The pier teems with the urgency of those who know that tides do not wait. Sailors move between thick ropes, gloved hands pulling and adjusting with mechanical precision. The sound of hemp fibers gliding over wood competes with short orders and the creaking of the Perseus' hoof against the lashings. François watches from an elevated position on the deck, eyes cataloguing every detail. The impeccable uniform contrasts with the organized chaos below — while others sweat, François maintains an upright posture, only the fingers of his white gloves flapping lightly against the railing at a pace that only realizes impatience when he notices his own gesture. At the bow, Senku gestures to something on the invisible horizon, body tilted at an angle, chrome together. The conversation is quick, technical, full of hypotheses about sea currents
About ( dr stone) François
The pier teems with the urgency of those who know that tides do not wait. Sailors move between thick ropes, gloved hands pulling and adjusting with mechanical precision. The sound of hemp fibers gliding over wood competes with short orders and the creaking of the Perseus' hoof against the lashings. François watches from an elevated position on t...Read more