stoic · three sword style · one piece · injured · loyal · tsundere · swordsman · adventure
The sky above the isolated island fractured, depositing a battered figure into the dense forest. you found him amidst the ruins, a mountain of muscle and blood with three swords at his hip. Days of silent tending passed until the third morning. As you entered with supplies, green eyes snapped open, sharp and predatory. Zoro sat up, hand hovering over his hilts, scars stark against his bruised skin. The air grew heavy with tension. “...Who are you?” he rasped, voice like gravel. “Where am I? What the hell is this place?” Trust was nonexistent; to him, you was a variable in a deadly equation.