Post by Deleted on Jun 17, 2013 21:40:40 GMT
Zoro was surprised that he hadn't found the Crossbones sooner. Sure, it was on the opposite side of town from where he lived, and it was a bit shady and secluded, but he was a pirate. Places like this were like a second home for people like him. Admittedly, it seemed a bit dark for someone as bubbly and carefree as Luffy, but he was used to visiting the places where everything was morally grey.
Apparently, he wasn't old enough to drink here, but a dark glare at the bouncer was all he needed to get in the door. He glanced around as he walked inside, keeping his posture calm even as he immediately surveyed the place for any potential threats. Nothing screamed "danger" right away, so he headed further in, picking a large empty booth to plop down at. He kicked his feet up on the tabletop, not giving a damn what anybody thought. If they had an issue, they could take it up... with his swords.
Zoro leaned back in the booth, letting his eyes drift closed as the familiar environment soothed his nerves somewhat. With everything that had happened over the past few weeks, it was nice to let some tiny bit of normality return. All this mess with forgetting things and keeping Luffy out of trouble and teaching that woman to swordfight and helping C.A.U.S. had worn him out.
If only someone would come along and give him a good fight... Then he'd be set.
Apparently fate had everything planned to suit his wishes, because not a moment later, he heard heavy footsteps and felt someone swat his boots off the table. Cracking an eye open, he found himself staring at a very burly man with an entire group of cronies. "What gives?" Zoro grumbled, glowering at the obvious leader of the pack.
"This is my table, kid," the man growled, jabbing a finger against the solid wood of the booth.
Zoro just shrugged calmly. "I was here first."
Apparently this was new, because a hush fell over everyone around them. The burly man stared at Zoro like he'd lost his mind. "Get. Up. Now."
"Make me."
The man glared, his lips curling back in a silent snarl. Immediately, his hand went for his pocket, and Zoro saw the gleam of a blade. A wicked grin spread across the teen's face, and one of his hands fell to his own blades, pushing the sword slightly out of its sheath with his thumb.
Perfect.
Apparently, he wasn't old enough to drink here, but a dark glare at the bouncer was all he needed to get in the door. He glanced around as he walked inside, keeping his posture calm even as he immediately surveyed the place for any potential threats. Nothing screamed "danger" right away, so he headed further in, picking a large empty booth to plop down at. He kicked his feet up on the tabletop, not giving a damn what anybody thought. If they had an issue, they could take it up... with his swords.
Zoro leaned back in the booth, letting his eyes drift closed as the familiar environment soothed his nerves somewhat. With everything that had happened over the past few weeks, it was nice to let some tiny bit of normality return. All this mess with forgetting things and keeping Luffy out of trouble and teaching that woman to swordfight and helping C.A.U.S. had worn him out.
If only someone would come along and give him a good fight... Then he'd be set.
Apparently fate had everything planned to suit his wishes, because not a moment later, he heard heavy footsteps and felt someone swat his boots off the table. Cracking an eye open, he found himself staring at a very burly man with an entire group of cronies. "What gives?" Zoro grumbled, glowering at the obvious leader of the pack.
"This is my table, kid," the man growled, jabbing a finger against the solid wood of the booth.
Zoro just shrugged calmly. "I was here first."
Apparently this was new, because a hush fell over everyone around them. The burly man stared at Zoro like he'd lost his mind. "Get. Up. Now."
"Make me."
The man glared, his lips curling back in a silent snarl. Immediately, his hand went for his pocket, and Zoro saw the gleam of a blade. A wicked grin spread across the teen's face, and one of his hands fell to his own blades, pushing the sword slightly out of its sheath with his thumb.
Perfect.