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Entry tags:
#38
Title/Prompt: Falter
Rating: G
Pairing: This is Zoro-centric but Usopp acts as a catalyst
Word Count: 1140
Roronoa Zoro was used to being a man feared. His reputation, when he could be bothered to give it half a thought, hinged on that very fear. The title cowering lackwits and what passed for the press in the backwaters of East Blue had bestowed up on him said as much quite plainly. He was the demon, Pirate Hunter Zoro. If nothing else it made his job easier, for the announcement of his name would send those who were guilty, those who had reason to fear the law and his presence, running away and all he had to do was chase them. And Zoro was fast, very fast, and few could outrun him although it was certainly possible to make him lost. Still, for all that his name was repeated in hushed and nervous whispers throughout the coves and bars and islands of East Blue, for some reason innocents never seemed to find him all that intimidating.
Much to his chagrin, children and small animals would often follow along in his wake. His three swords and his silence and his brooding – always strong if he had somehow misplaced his path or if his stomach had gone for too long without food or sweet, sweet alcohol – never seemed to deter his unwanted shadows. Over time, after too many instances of shouting himself hoarse and waving his arms like a windmill and getting laughter instead of retreats, he’d grown resigned and even accustomed to such treatment from those either too naïve, too stupid, or just plain too young to have any care for his fearsome reputation.
Luffy was one such innocent and Zoro had initially placed the straw-hatted boy in the too stupid category. Time had changed that to naïve and maybe willfully stubborn. The young man he had come to call captain had never once given any indication that he was afraid of Zoro. This was in spite of his proven vulnerability to Zoro’s own particular brand of violence, something against which that strong rubber body would have no recourse. It was somewhat refreshing traveling with a person for whom the name Roronoa Zoro held no past awe, only future expectations. As for the girl who soon joined their party, she was a tough creature and, though he could sense her occasional bouts of discomfort and even rare outright fear, tolerated absolutely no guff. She had no sense of gratitude, that witch, but her spunk and determination reminded him of another frightened, mule-headed girl and so he grudgingly put up with her because Luffy did.
Still, his name came once more into play at the next island their tiny crafts put in, brought up and used to challenge him more than once. The curly-headed youth had clearly known who he was and had bought into every single aspect of his reputation, the truth along with all the lies and exaggerations that often flew about as sailors had little else to do on calm seas but bullshit with one another. That cringing fear was tedious but bearable, Zoro being no stranger to that or the show of bravado the boy, Usopp by name, put on when he managed to grit his teeth and talk himself up enough. A quiet, sleepy sort of place, Syrup Village had a rot in its heart and that too was not a surprise to Roronoa for he had traveled far and wide in his wandering search for the golden-eyed swordsman and he had seen much evil as well as much good.
It was when that cancer revealed itself, offered itself up for exorcism, that his name once more came into play. The band of ridiculously costumed pirates had drawn back a step or two at his name and then laughed at their own unease. After all, they were many and serving behind a hidden master whose strength held them all in check. And Zoro was alone with only a seeming grinning idiot in a straw hat, a girl, and the village joke standing in the way of their conquest. Of course Luffy was something no man could predict; almost a force of nature when he was fighting for a cause he believed in and practically impossible to defeat except for when unexpected vagaries of fortune, such as hypnotism, were brought to bear. And it turned out the lying boy had a few secrets of his own and more courage than perhaps even he himself had known.
They fought, all of them, even the bossy, greedy girl in a move Zoro had not expected but would later learn enough that it was not so surprising. Two morons in cat costumes had challenged him, his name, and he fought them off. Not as easily as he would have liked, but he was distracted by the new concerns he had for his comrades, a feeling he hadn’t had since he’d left two bosom companions by accident one morning when he turned the wrong way out of the bathroom. Still, he had won and had bought enough time for the butler turned wanted pirate captain to change his plans. He left Luffy to the task of bringing down the one called Kuro, a name he remembered from old wanted posters, and chased after the boy, the two of them together working in tandem to save a life and a village. Later, all smiles and good food and embellishments later, he’d felt a comfortable sort of camaraderie with the three of them and it was enough to make him forget, for a little while, just exactly who he was.
The next day, aboard a small but decidedly plucky caravel, the four of them set out to seek their fortunes. Four dreamers, though that wasn’t something they had broadly spoken of yet beyond Luffy’s bold declarations, and Zoro had let his guard drop for the first time in what felt like years. It had taken only a small thing to pull those barriers strongly back into place, an almost reflexive action that shouldn’t have bothered him as deeply as it did. But Usopp, their newest nakama as Luffy was so proud to call them all, had flinched away when Zoro moved to stand next to him at the white painted rail. Only half a foot, maybe not even that, but he’d pulled into himself and away, and it was enough to remind Zoro that he wasn’t just Zoro. He was the Pirate Hunter, Roronoa Zoro and often called The Demon of East Blue. And that, as he had been so uncomfortably reminded, didn’t necessarily make him sound like a person with whom just anyone would want to be acquainted. But was that a bad thing? He hadn’t thought so before but for the first time Zoro found himself wondering if he was going about chasing his destiny in the right way after all.
Rating: G
Pairing: This is Zoro-centric but Usopp acts as a catalyst
Word Count: 1140
Roronoa Zoro was used to being a man feared. His reputation, when he could be bothered to give it half a thought, hinged on that very fear. The title cowering lackwits and what passed for the press in the backwaters of East Blue had bestowed up on him said as much quite plainly. He was the demon, Pirate Hunter Zoro. If nothing else it made his job easier, for the announcement of his name would send those who were guilty, those who had reason to fear the law and his presence, running away and all he had to do was chase them. And Zoro was fast, very fast, and few could outrun him although it was certainly possible to make him lost. Still, for all that his name was repeated in hushed and nervous whispers throughout the coves and bars and islands of East Blue, for some reason innocents never seemed to find him all that intimidating.
Much to his chagrin, children and small animals would often follow along in his wake. His three swords and his silence and his brooding – always strong if he had somehow misplaced his path or if his stomach had gone for too long without food or sweet, sweet alcohol – never seemed to deter his unwanted shadows. Over time, after too many instances of shouting himself hoarse and waving his arms like a windmill and getting laughter instead of retreats, he’d grown resigned and even accustomed to such treatment from those either too naïve, too stupid, or just plain too young to have any care for his fearsome reputation.
Luffy was one such innocent and Zoro had initially placed the straw-hatted boy in the too stupid category. Time had changed that to naïve and maybe willfully stubborn. The young man he had come to call captain had never once given any indication that he was afraid of Zoro. This was in spite of his proven vulnerability to Zoro’s own particular brand of violence, something against which that strong rubber body would have no recourse. It was somewhat refreshing traveling with a person for whom the name Roronoa Zoro held no past awe, only future expectations. As for the girl who soon joined their party, she was a tough creature and, though he could sense her occasional bouts of discomfort and even rare outright fear, tolerated absolutely no guff. She had no sense of gratitude, that witch, but her spunk and determination reminded him of another frightened, mule-headed girl and so he grudgingly put up with her because Luffy did.
Still, his name came once more into play at the next island their tiny crafts put in, brought up and used to challenge him more than once. The curly-headed youth had clearly known who he was and had bought into every single aspect of his reputation, the truth along with all the lies and exaggerations that often flew about as sailors had little else to do on calm seas but bullshit with one another. That cringing fear was tedious but bearable, Zoro being no stranger to that or the show of bravado the boy, Usopp by name, put on when he managed to grit his teeth and talk himself up enough. A quiet, sleepy sort of place, Syrup Village had a rot in its heart and that too was not a surprise to Roronoa for he had traveled far and wide in his wandering search for the golden-eyed swordsman and he had seen much evil as well as much good.
It was when that cancer revealed itself, offered itself up for exorcism, that his name once more came into play. The band of ridiculously costumed pirates had drawn back a step or two at his name and then laughed at their own unease. After all, they were many and serving behind a hidden master whose strength held them all in check. And Zoro was alone with only a seeming grinning idiot in a straw hat, a girl, and the village joke standing in the way of their conquest. Of course Luffy was something no man could predict; almost a force of nature when he was fighting for a cause he believed in and practically impossible to defeat except for when unexpected vagaries of fortune, such as hypnotism, were brought to bear. And it turned out the lying boy had a few secrets of his own and more courage than perhaps even he himself had known.
They fought, all of them, even the bossy, greedy girl in a move Zoro had not expected but would later learn enough that it was not so surprising. Two morons in cat costumes had challenged him, his name, and he fought them off. Not as easily as he would have liked, but he was distracted by the new concerns he had for his comrades, a feeling he hadn’t had since he’d left two bosom companions by accident one morning when he turned the wrong way out of the bathroom. Still, he had won and had bought enough time for the butler turned wanted pirate captain to change his plans. He left Luffy to the task of bringing down the one called Kuro, a name he remembered from old wanted posters, and chased after the boy, the two of them together working in tandem to save a life and a village. Later, all smiles and good food and embellishments later, he’d felt a comfortable sort of camaraderie with the three of them and it was enough to make him forget, for a little while, just exactly who he was.
The next day, aboard a small but decidedly plucky caravel, the four of them set out to seek their fortunes. Four dreamers, though that wasn’t something they had broadly spoken of yet beyond Luffy’s bold declarations, and Zoro had let his guard drop for the first time in what felt like years. It had taken only a small thing to pull those barriers strongly back into place, an almost reflexive action that shouldn’t have bothered him as deeply as it did. But Usopp, their newest nakama as Luffy was so proud to call them all, had flinched away when Zoro moved to stand next to him at the white painted rail. Only half a foot, maybe not even that, but he’d pulled into himself and away, and it was enough to remind Zoro that he wasn’t just Zoro. He was the Pirate Hunter, Roronoa Zoro and often called The Demon of East Blue. And that, as he had been so uncomfortably reminded, didn’t necessarily make him sound like a person with whom just anyone would want to be acquainted. But was that a bad thing? He hadn’t thought so before but for the first time Zoro found himself wondering if he was going about chasing his destiny in the right way after all.
no subject
And agh... the pain of having one of his own flinch away. Usopp, you big halfwit!! *shakes fist* Sometimes I think that's most of the reason that Zoro likes being a Strawhat - because he's surrounded by a bunch of people who don't care about his reputation and don't automatically see him as the demon of East Blue. Especially since, as has been pointed out a couple of times by Zoro, it's not like HE ever claimed the name for himself.
Over time, after too many instances of shouting himself hoarse and waving his arms like a windmill and getting laughter instead of retreats, he’d grown resigned and even accustomed to such treatment from those either too naïve, too stupid, or just plain too old to have any care for his fearsome reputation.
The mental image of Zoro trying to frighten off his fanclub fills me with great amusement. But I have to wonder... was it supposed to be too young rather than too old - cos you've made it sound like it was mostly kiddies following him about?
no subject
Yeah, Zoro is so very much the ANIKI of the series. No wonder Chopper hangs onto him all the time and the kids and animals aren't the least intimidated. He just has that big brother attitude whether he likes it or not, the kind you know is all bark and keeps hidden candy for you in his pockets.