Zoro - 001
Who: Zoro (strayswordsman ) and Goemon (ishikawa_juusan )
Where: Lake Meridian
Style: Third
Status: Closed
Note: An open Dreamberry post has been put up to follow this log-in-game it should be immediately after the events in the log (coinciding with the last tags, actually). The Dreamberry post is here.
It'd been half an hour since the green-haired swordsman jolted painfully awake at the shore of a body of water too still to be any ocean. It'd taken him fully fifteen of those minutes to convince his body to lever itself upright, even using one of his katana as a crutch. Said body screamed at him in protest every inch of the way, blood dripping in rivulets from a multitude of wounds and greyness pressing in on the edges of his vision, trying to smother him back into unconsciousness-but Roronoa Zoro is a contrary son-of-a-bitch with a will as unshakeable as a mountain-and more importantly, he had nakama to find. He didn't know what the warlord Kuma'd done with them-or with himself, for that matter-but he'd already failed them one too many times.
So he simply refused to put up with any of this can't-move bullshit. He didn't have time for it.
As such, he was hobbling along the curve of the lake, grimly determined not to pass out, no matter what percentage of his total blood volume he'd left trailed out behind him-fainting was for sissies like the shit-cook-when he spotted the dark-haired body half-floating facedown in the lake's shallows, red slowly staining the clear water around it.
“...Oh for fuck's sake,” were the hoarse first words out of his mouth since waking, but he was already splashing into the water without thought, fast as his wrecked body would allow-which must've been fairly fast, because the next thing he knew he'd hauled a not-breathing man in a hakama to sprawl limply on the lake shore, sword still fixed at his hip. Adrenaline worked wonders. The man's life was still leaking out from somewhere on the right side of his chest, so he wasn't dead-yet-but.
“Hey!” Zoro snapped, shaking the other man by the shoulders. “...Oi, do you wanna die? Breathe, idiot!” The dark head lolled without breath or response. Zoro hissed a thoroughly annoyed noise. Perfect.
“Damn samurai, I am not giving you mouth-to-mouth if you don't wake up,” he said through clenched teeth, “so you'd better wake-the fuck-up.” Each punctuated word was accompanied by a ringing slap to the pale, slack face.
Where: Lake Meridian
Style: Third
Status: Closed
Note: An open Dreamberry post has been put up to follow this log-in-game it should be immediately after the events in the log (coinciding with the last tags, actually). The Dreamberry post is here.
It'd been half an hour since the green-haired swordsman jolted painfully awake at the shore of a body of water too still to be any ocean. It'd taken him fully fifteen of those minutes to convince his body to lever itself upright, even using one of his katana as a crutch. Said body screamed at him in protest every inch of the way, blood dripping in rivulets from a multitude of wounds and greyness pressing in on the edges of his vision, trying to smother him back into unconsciousness-but Roronoa Zoro is a contrary son-of-a-bitch with a will as unshakeable as a mountain-and more importantly, he had nakama to find. He didn't know what the warlord Kuma'd done with them-or with himself, for that matter-but he'd already failed them one too many times.
So he simply refused to put up with any of this can't-move bullshit. He didn't have time for it.
As such, he was hobbling along the curve of the lake, grimly determined not to pass out, no matter what percentage of his total blood volume he'd left trailed out behind him-fainting was for sissies like the shit-cook-when he spotted the dark-haired body half-floating facedown in the lake's shallows, red slowly staining the clear water around it.
“...Oh for fuck's sake,” were the hoarse first words out of his mouth since waking, but he was already splashing into the water without thought, fast as his wrecked body would allow-which must've been fairly fast, because the next thing he knew he'd hauled a not-breathing man in a hakama to sprawl limply on the lake shore, sword still fixed at his hip. Adrenaline worked wonders. The man's life was still leaking out from somewhere on the right side of his chest, so he wasn't dead-yet-but.
“Hey!” Zoro snapped, shaking the other man by the shoulders. “...Oi, do you wanna die? Breathe, idiot!” The dark head lolled without breath or response. Zoro hissed a thoroughly annoyed noise. Perfect.
“Damn samurai, I am not giving you mouth-to-mouth if you don't wake up,” he said through clenched teeth, “so you'd better wake-the fuck-up.” Each punctuated word was accompanied by a ringing slap to the pale, slack face.