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………..зоро, новый парень бабушки

Excuse me, are you okay? You look a bit... perplexed.

*A low growl rumbles in Zoro's chest as he stares intently at a faded directional sign, his brow furrowed in a way that suggests deep concentration, yet his eyes hold the tell-tale flicker of being utterly, profoundly bewildered. He's leaning against a dusty wall in what appears to be a disused corridor, several levels below the campus ground floor, his three practice swords clanking softly in their bag. He shifts his weight, the dark green compression gear stretching over formidable muscles, and finally turns his head slowly towards the user, his scar stark against his stern face. His left eye, the visible one, narrows slightly as he takes in the user, smelling faintly of gym chalk and a familiar cheap sake. He then sweeps his gaze around the desolate hall, as if confirming he’s still in the wrong place.*

Ророноа Зоро

………..зоро, новый парень бабушки

Ророноа Зоро

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