[OPEN] i feel guilty

[stopbleeding]

WHO: zoro and YOU!!!
WHERE: beach, some abandoned warehouse dump whatever, possibly other places
WHEN: 9/17 - On
WHAT: zoro is like the only person who actually wants more memories back and will do pretty much anything for them + catchall
WARNINGS: i mean it's zoro so he'll probably get injured at some point



I. OCEAN MAN, TAKE ME BY THE HAND, OR MAYBE NOT SINCE YOU'RE BEACHED ON LAND

[It's late. Dark enough that the ocean becomes a menace, swallowing all light that peeks towards it. The beach is quiet, dark, the streetlights providing only droplets of light over a broad stretch of sand. Still, it's enough to line the edges of the waves and countour the silhouette of–a monster? No.

Zoro. Coughing, spluttering, choking as he pushes his way out of the waves. His movement is slow and the further he moves from the water, the reason for that becomes clear. There's not one, not two, but eight cinderblocks tied around either ankle. They leave tracks in the sand as he escapes the tide. He lies there on his side, body lurches as he continues to choke on the water that just won't come out of his lungs. Closer inspection reveals that his hands are tied behind his back.

Maybe he needs some help.]

II-A. I CAN'T THINK OF A CLEVER TITLE ABOUT WAREHOUSES

[Maybe you're just on a stroll, cruising that sidewalk like a motherfucker, dancing under spotlights like a modern day Fred Astaire. Doesn't really matter so long as you're close to a very specific abandoned warehouse in whatever city district that'd be in. Soon, that peaceful stroll is disturbed by a noise so immense, it sends a slight shockwave through the street.

There's movement from inside the warehouse. Glimpses can be caught between the pane-less windows. A junked car or two goes flying. Some collapsed debris from a nearby demolition rising and falling into and out of view. Closer inspection will reveal a short crawl hole cut into the fence next to a bright "NO TRESPASSING" sign. A well-trodden path winds up to a collapsed wall, providing just enough of a window to see just what the hell is going on.

It's Zoro, probably shirtless and working out. With... cars. And huge chunks of rubble. Hell, it looks like he's clearing half the place out himself and from how soaked in sweat he is, it looks like he's been doing this all night. He looks over his shoulder after a few minutes.]

Didn't you see the "No Trespassing" sign?

II-B. SAME AS ABOVE X2

[Same bat-place but different bat-time. While equally late at night, there's no sweaty, half-naked brutal workouts. Just Zoro, a can of spray paint, and a large metal partition of sorts. There's graffiti already on it–lazy taggers scrawling their self-important aliases. Zoro does something different.

The teenager tagger's names have been covered in words, phrases. From the simple:
"Crazy dreamer"
"Useless"
"Prideless"
"Idiot"

To the more complex:
"No matter how hard you try, you can't win."
"Losing all hope and dying are two strangely similar things."
"Humans are fragile beings."

All from disparate contexts with a single thing in common. They're discouragment. Relentless discouragement scrawled over each over in multicolored, chaotic layers. And he's still adding to it, a black bandana pulled up over his face as he writes another disheartening phrase in red paint.

The can runs out halfway through the sentence. He reaches for another.]

Comments

[stopbleeding]

Aren't you in school? Shouldn't you have classmates or something? [Maybe even a friendly landlord?

Anyway he's wiping himself down with a towel or whatever I said last tag.]

You really don't have anyone to call?

[imaginex]

I won't be attending college until the winter, sir.

[The last question she makes no attempt to answer; instead she looks about, hoping to find some relatively undirtied tire to sit on or something. Whatever won't immediately give her tetanus.]

I'll find a main road eventually. And I don't work until the afternoon, so it's not like I'd miss my shift.

[The true concern here]

[stopbleeding]

[lord.]

You've got a home at least, right?

[he didn't expect this night to end in an act of charity, but here we are.]

[imaginex]

[Jesus and Sakura alike will be weeping if this goes where she's afraid it might go. Her eyebrows pinch and she tries to... think... of some way to make this sound not terrible.]

Mm, yes. I have my own apartment.

[Which surely makes her an adult]

[stopbleeding]

[thank god he doesn't need to let her into his apartment. let him be a hermit in peace.

he gathers up his things, kicking a car aside for his shirt. tugs that on. the car kind of keeps tipping back and forth in the background.]

You got your house keys? I'll drive you home.

[he doesn't really wait to see if she's following him down that path and through the hole he cut in the fence. after that it's leading her to an incredibly fancy car. nods for her to get in.]

[imaginex]

[At this point Sakura is certain Zoro is an oni. Straight-up Japanese mountain troll.]

Thank you.

[And she'll just slide into that car like this is completely normal]

... Though, um... could I have a name? [So she at least knows who she's supposed to thank for saving her dumb ass this random night]

[stopbleeding]

[thanks for not assuming he's a creep, sakura. he starts up the car, checking the street before pulling out.]

Just call me Zoro. [he glances at her, either slightly annoyed or slightly uncomfortable.] You don't have to be that formal.

[imaginex]

Zoro-san then. And ah... sorry.

[Which does exactly jack shit in making her less formal. The only consolation to find is she doesn't appear afraid of him; Sakura figures if he was gonna be a creep, he'd have already done it, so it's safe enough to assume he'll drive her home]

But-- um, thank you for the ride. Again.

[... And then suddenly blurting out:] Can you really lift cars?

[She was sitting on that thought for a while]

[stopbleeding]

Yup.

[It's an endearing enough question that he's able to look over the formality. He hasn't heard Japanese honorifics in years.]

Figured that's why you came up. Thought you saw me do it.

[imaginex]

Mm... I did hear a noise.

[Turns out the sound of lifting cars carries very well in the dead of night.]

And it doesn't hurt you at all?

[A pause, and then she chances very slowly:]

Is this... something you regained?

[stopbleeding]

So you've got that thing too, huh?

[well. that's convenient. it'd be harder to try to explain his... powers? to someone unfamiliar.]

Yeah. Superstrength and... limited invulnerability, I guess. Was a hard guy to kill before but... [he shrugs] Don't really know what limits I've got now.

[imaginex]

[So her Oni Theory is dashed. That's mildly disappointing. She won't hold it against him, though]

Aah, you're trying to find them. [And some of her more morbid thoughts wonder if that includes life-threatening situations because... that's certainly one way to challenge fate]

... Do you remember a lot? About your... new memories? [Her nose wrinkles. Having no memories to recollect, talking about them puts a weird taste in her mouth. It's like she's discussing quantum physics without having ever taken a class]

[stopbleeding]

Yeah.

[that's it. memories have been a touchy subject for him recently.]

Wouldn't say they're new.

[imaginex]

Mm... did it take long to get your first one?

[It's a question that might need elaboration, and well - she's got nothing else to do while Zoro drives. With a sigh, she leans back into her seat, glancing briefly through the window] I've been here for a couple of months but still haven't felt anything.

[stopbleeding]

You're pretty keen on asking personal questions, huh?

[But... yeah. He was there once. It's not as if he's unsympathetic. Maybe more for her future than her past.]

You'll want it to stay that way. Not remember anything. For a lot of people here it's because it's painful. Bad stuff. Trauma. For others it's... I don't know. Loss.

[It's easier to talk about if he distances it from himself.] Took me two or three months to remember something hard. After that... been a lot.

[imaginex]

... I'm sorry.

[She doesn't specify if the apology is for accidentally picking his brain for details, or that he's been through hard times. Her gaze falls more heavily on the passenger window.]

It's probably nervousness on my part.

[A smile, however forced. She tries to switch gears and get out of her own head] Well, I came here on a mission anyway. So long as I focus on that, memories probably won't seem like a big deal.

[stopbleeding]

[A mission, huh? He knows better than to ask about it. Goals are private things. They have history. That past isn't meant for him.]

Get people first. You'll have a tough time either way if you go about it alone.

[imaginex]

... Ah.

[She resists making a defeated face and just nods]

I plan to be in the city for a while so... I'll try.

[stopbleeding]

[what a weird girl... he studies her from the corner of his eye, then sighs.]

Wish I could give you some advice, kid. [a place to go, a person to meet as a foundation–anything, really.] Not very good at it myself.

[imaginex]

[Heh, well. That earns a slight twitch of the lips]

It's okay; I came here because I don't like being coddled. So, um... even if you don't have advice, that just means I need to work harder.

[Leaning back in her seat some, she glances at him and smiles] I'd probably make more friends if I stopped telling them ghost stories all the time.

[stopbleeding]

[he smiles, if only because she reminds him of someone he knows.]

Yeah, maybe. Some people like that kind of weirdo. [it takes a certain kind of person to enjoy those stories. they've got to have some sense of adventure.]

Alright. Lay one on me. Try to scare me.

[imaginex]

[God knows it probably ruins the atmosphere leaning forward in excitement but waS THAT A CHALLENGE.]

Mm... [A beat of silence as her eyes crawl around the car, thinking to herself, until finally she settles in place with:] Okay, I have one. If you've heard it, tell me to stop and I'll think of another.

There was a man traveling on business when he arrived at a hotel, and walked up to the front desk. A young woman gave him the key to his room - but before he could leave, she leaned forward in a whisper and told the man that on his way to the room, there would be a door with no number. It was locked, and no one was allowed inside. In fact, under no circumstances should he look inside. Skeptical but willing to follow her word, the man marched past the door without looking at it, into his room, and fell into an uneasy sleep.

[A pause, both for tension and to ensure Zoro's not asleep at the wheel.]

[stopbleeding]

How did he know he didn't look at it?

[he is somewhat disappointed with this story so far.]

[imaginex]

... Zoro-san, the story isn't finished yet.

[Lord, he's gonna be that kind of audience.]

In any case, the next day, the man found his curiosity wouldn't let him walk past the door without at least one peek. So he did, through the keyhole. Cold air pressed against his eye as he spied a woman with extremely pale, white skin in the far corner. She was leaning against the wall with hair obscuring her face, turned away from the door.

... At this point the man was concerned. Was the woman well? Why was she so pale? He thought to knock and check in on her, but he remembered what the person at the counter had told him, and lost his nerve. The man pulled back and retreated to his room.

[peeking at Zoro again -- well, more like a squint of assessment.]

[stopbleeding]

How was the hair obscuring her face if she was turned away?

[he's still listening and... apparently just paying attention to the most minor details.]