100 Moods Self-Challenge: Set Three Part One (Creative-Depressed)
The next set of these little critters. They're coming surprisingly easy at the moment, but...there's still 70 to go...
Once again in two parts because LJ is being stupid.
Title: 100 Moods, Set Three (Creative to Drained)
Rating: From light PG to PG-15
Warnings: Spoilers for recent chapters, yaoi
Word Count: All ten
Mood: Creative
Rating: PG
Pairings: None
Word Count: 453
He knew how to draw all of them: Luffy and Chopper were always moving, so inevitably they were sketches, quick strokes to capture the mood or position that he meant to fill in later but never really got around to. It seemed a shame to lose that carefree spirit that always filled their activities; like finalizing a drawing would somehow diminish the meaning.
Zoro was the easiest, naturally. The amount of time he spent sleeping was a bonus, and even the sketches of him were filled with broad strokes; heavy ones, implying a strength that read through even on paper.
The girls and Sanji were almost the same, he reflected, and while that didn’t mean Sanji was a girl (the cook would kill him for insinuating that), the technique was the same: sweeping, graceful lines that easily showed elegance, sometimes sketched and sometimes drawn properly; he and Robin were quite alike in that aspect. Nami was a tad blunter: still feminine, still elegant (albeit in a rougher way), but there was something…some quality about her that made her pictures almost closer to Zoro’s in a way.
It was troubling that he couldn’t explain it, but maybe the difference lay in that Robin was already a woman, whereas Nami, tomboyish and independent, still had to find that part of her.
Regardless, he’d never shown any of them his pictures, and now…now he was attempting to do something he’d never done before.
He knew it was a bad idea.
A group shot, he figured, would be the perfect thing. They could hang it in the galley and…
“Luffy! Chopper! Get back here!” Nami shrieked, stomping (yes, stomping) to drag them back by ears and antlers, and she stood sullenly, arms crossed. It only took a scant number of seconds for them to take off once more.
Zoro yawned, got sniped at by Sanji, and then the two of them were off (luckily it was just words this time, or else Merry would be needing repairs again), which led to Nami turning to add her voice to the cacophony, and he sighed and put his brushes down. It was a lost cause all around.
“Long-nose-kun?”
“Yes, Robin?”
“Perhaps if this isn’t working, we can have seven pictures in the galley instead of one?” she asked with a graceful smile and graceful hands tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“I think it’s going to have to be that way, Robin,” he finally admitted, packing up his utensils.
“Ooh, Usopp’s done already? That’s so fast! I wanna see, Usopp!”
And now he had to fend off Luffy (and, inevitably, Chopper) as he attempted to make his way to the men’s cabin without dropping anything.
He was never going to attempt a group drawing again.
Ever.
Mood: Crushed
Rating: PG-15 (for implications)
Pairing: Merryshipping
Word Count: 487
Zoro watched them with an unreadable look on his face. His crewmates. His nakama. His…well, he supposed ‘lovers’ wasn’t really the proper term for what they did. Sure, there was plenty of love involved, but Luffy really didn’t know the significance of what they were doing and Usopp had his true love and Nami and the cook? Something to do; teenage hormones acting up; whatever the reason…
Zoro just didn’t fit. It hurt him somewhat, although he’d never admit to something as petty as that. But some part of him always felt a little betrayed, that when they were finished, the four of them curled up in a pile and left him to go on watch.
Tonight, he didn’t. He wanted, just for a second, to feel what they all felt for each other. It didn’t have to be love; he didn’t believe in love as it was so often portrayed, but…
Family. Belonging. He just wanted to feel like…like he wasn’t extraneous. Like he meant something to them, all of them useful, needed: to cook, to navigate, to repair, to lead. And he was just the other one that could fight. He slept all the time. Heck, his only real duty was to lift and lower the anchor.
And there they were, clothes flung all over the galley and the four of them in a tangle of limbs and hair in the middle of the floor. And here he was, shirtless but with his pants back on, and he could join them, but it would still feel wrong…
Closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall, he sighed and attempted to go to sleep.
Barely seconds later, however, he heard the shuffle of bare feet on the wood floor and felt something drape across his lap, lips lazily connecting with his as he opened his eyes with a start.
“You looked lonely,” Sanji informed him rather bluntly. Rather calmly, as well, seeing as how the man was completely naked. “Come and join us?”
“Nah,” Zoro looked away from the dishevelled blonde. “I don’t belong in there.”
“Hmm,” Sanji paused before curling up close to him and mouthing a quick kiss to his neck. “Do you mind if I stay with you, then?”
Zoro didn’t answer, but Sanji took it as an affirmative and got up long enough to pull a blanket over them and coax Zoro to lay down. And Zoro, laying there with Sanji snuggled up to him, felt something stir inside of him.
“Nakama, remember?” Sanji asked sleepily, and even though Zoro knew that perhaps he’d never fit in the same way the others did, he was still cared about. He was still wanted.
And the next time when the others fell asleep in a pile and, after a few seconds, Sanji extricated himself and went to Zoro’s side, he thought that maybe he could get used to this after all.
Mood: Curious
Rating: PG
Pairings: None, really
Word Count: 467
Chopper had promised the effects would wear off soon. Of course, that didn’t stop him from cursing the strange fruit they had all eaten, but the strangest part wasn’t the ears or the tail: it was the urges.
And right now, the cat’s infamous curiosity was making a rather lovely and inopportune appearance. Because while he wasn’t a cat, exactly, (unlike Nami, who somehow managed to make ears and a tail suit her), he was still from the same family. And while he was pretty sure there weren’t any tigers out there with green fur, the stripes didn’t leave much to the imagination.
However, what was more distracting at the moment was the darn cook’s tail. What right did it have to be so shiny and bushy? So soft-looking? And why did he think that the infuriating man smelled good all of a sudden?
“Oi, idiot, what’s the big idea?” Sanji turned, wondering why Zoro now had a mouthful of his tail. His tail. “Dinner’s only an hour.”
“It’s distracting me,” Zoro replied, although it was slightly muffled. “It’s just swishing around.”
“Go bug Luffy or something. He’s got a tail, too,” Sanji rolled his eyes and continued chopping vegetables. It was a little annoying considering that his claws got in the way, but at least most of his body had stayed the same.
Like his legs.
Which he was going to use to kick the infuriating Marimo in the head if he didn’t let go of his tail in the next ten seconds.
“You smell good.”
“I what?”
“You smell good, cook,” Zoro looked rather bemused, and still had a mouthful of hair. “Dunno why I never noticed it before…”
“Well, keep in mind that I am the only man on this ship that takes regular showers. And no, I’m not counting the times you’ve jumped in the ocean to save Luffy ‘showers,’ idiot. Salt is horrible for your skin, and brine doesn’t make you smell any better,” Sanji muttered, mostly under his breath, but Zoro’s new-found hearing picked it up.
“Kinda fruity, though…”
“Well, after all, I don’t have money to buy shower gel, and as long as it’s just a little bit…wait, why am I telling you this? Get off of my tail!” Sanji blinked rapidly and changed the subject, ears flattening down onto his head as he turned.
“But I…”
Robin glanced up as a man-tiger hybrid flew out through the galley door, and she chuckled before raising a feathered hand to her mouth as Zoro glared at her. “Well, you must remember, Swordsman-san, what they say about curiosity and cats…” she raised a wing in a wave and went back to reading as Zoro growled, tail swishing rather forlornly behind him as he went to take a nap in the mikan grove.
Mood: Cynical
Rating: PG
Pairing: None mentioned; imply what you will…
Word Count: 480
“I have come to a conclusion.”
Commodore Smoker sighed and glanced at the man currently occupying his room…not that the man was an invited guest, per say, but since he seemed to show up nearly everywhere that Smoker did, he took it for granted that the brat would try to sneak in with him.
“And what, pray-tell, is this ‘conclusion?’” he humoured the young man…at least for the moment.
“You…” the other started, with the air of somebody about to divulge one of the secrets of the universe, “…are a cynic.”
“I’m a what now?”
“A cynic!”
“A cynic.”
“Yes. As in, you believe that, for the most part, people are scum.”
“Portgas, let me assure you that I do not think ‘people’ are scum. Pirates are a different story…and not really ‘people,’ as far as I’m concerned,” Smoker crossed his arms and leant against the lone desk in the room.
“I’m wounded. You have dealt me a fatal blow, and I’m tempted to crawl off into a corner and huddle there until I die…”
“Then shut up and do it already,” Smoker rolled his eyes, completely cutting off the rather dramatic monologue of the man on the bed.
Ace huffed, blowing a few strands of dark hair out of his face, and rolled onto his stomach so he could prop his chin up with his hands. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m a cynic, remember?”
“Yes; yes. However, I’m sure there’s a cure. If I can just convince you that not all humans are as worthless as you seem to claim…”
“Not remotely interested. Sorry.”
“Because I can assure you that there are plenty of worthy people in this world and…”
“That man you’re chasing,” Smoker said suddenly, and Ace went quiet. Too quiet, and as the Marine turned to look at him, he was almost shocked. There was a dark, flickering halo around the pirate and his eyes were hooded…he wasn’t a boy in that moment. He was a man who deserved to be the Second Division Commander of the largest pirate crew on the Grand Line.
“The man I’m chasing is a despicable human being who only cares for his own ambition. He took the life of his friend to get farther ahead. I only told you that not all humans are scum, Commodore. There are some, however, that are,” Ace’s voice was low, and Smoker gazed at the man with a type of new-found respect. “The world is changing,” Ace finally said, dropping the seriousness and giving Smoker a smile. “So? Can I buy you a drink?”
“If you promise not to do that again. Being deathly terrifying is my specialty.”
“I can play with the best,” Ace shrugged. “You coming or not?”
He strode out, and Smoker vowed to never underestimate the young man again.
Apparently there was more to this pirate than first met the eye.
Mood: Depressed
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Word Count: 500
Sanji looked out the window and heaved a sigh. The swordsman had been out near the figurehead all day, silent and brooding and nobody had dared to approach him.
Not even for lunch.
Or dinner.
But it was nearing nightfall now, and there was only so long one could just sit there (and he hadn’t even been napping).
So, after drying the last dish, Sanji put it back into the cupboard and hung up his dishrag before lighting a cigarette and pushing his way onto the deck.
“Oi, baka.”
“What d’you want, ero-cook?”
“Want to know why you’ve been out here in a funk all day,” Sanji leant on the railing beside the green-haired man. He noticed that Zoro had the white sword in his lap and he was running his fingers over the bindings almost reverently. “Who was she?”
“Hmm?”
“The girl who first owned that sword,” Sanji clarified.
“How…”
“It looks like a girl’s sword. Those other two,” he pointed at the remaining ones strapped to Zoro’s haramaki, “those look like men’s swords. But this one…” he held his hand out and Zoro wordlessly passed the white sword over with a warning glare.
Sanji ignored it and inspected the shining blade. “She died, didn’t she? That’s why you carry this.”
“Yeah,” Zoro looked amazed that the cook would know such a thing, but maybe it was obvious. After all, why else would he hold the katana in such high regard?
“Why did you take it?”
“A promise,” Zoro said simply, and Sanji didn’t press. He could understand that. “Today…today is the anniversary of the day she died.”
“Wait here,” Sanji handed Wadou back and went into the kitchen, emerging a few moments later with a bottle of expensive rum. “Here.”
“Aw cook, the best rum for me?”
“No, moss-head, for her. A lady only deserves the best.”
“Oh,” Zoro shook his head and stood, holding Wadou in one hand while he uncorked the bottle and took a swig, holding it out as Sanji rolled his eyes took his own swallow. Zoro accepted the bottle back before upending it and pouring the rum into the ocean, the dark liquid swallowed immediately by the blue of the sea. “I promised you, Kuina. And I’m going to keep that promise. I will be the world’s greatest swordsman,” he said, short and blunt like his speeches always were, but it got the point across.
“Kuina?”
“That was her name,” Zoro’s voice was scratchy.
“I’m sure she’d be proud of you.”
“You think?”
“Well, as proud as anyone could be of you.”
Zoro shot him a glare but Sanji merely smiled and eventually he shook his head. “I’m going to bed.”
“Good night then, Marimo.”
“Yeah. You too, love-cook.”
Sanji turned and watched him go, wondering if Zoro had loved her.
But no, this was Zoro.
Regardless, the cook was moderately happy that the swordsman was out of his funk, and he lit a new cigarette and stayed to watch the sun set.
Link to Part TWO
Once again in two parts because LJ is being stupid.
Title: 100 Moods, Set Three (Creative to Drained)
Rating: From light PG to PG-15
Warnings: Spoilers for recent chapters, yaoi
Word Count: All ten
Mood: Creative
Rating: PG
Pairings: None
Word Count: 453
He knew how to draw all of them: Luffy and Chopper were always moving, so inevitably they were sketches, quick strokes to capture the mood or position that he meant to fill in later but never really got around to. It seemed a shame to lose that carefree spirit that always filled their activities; like finalizing a drawing would somehow diminish the meaning.
Zoro was the easiest, naturally. The amount of time he spent sleeping was a bonus, and even the sketches of him were filled with broad strokes; heavy ones, implying a strength that read through even on paper.
The girls and Sanji were almost the same, he reflected, and while that didn’t mean Sanji was a girl (the cook would kill him for insinuating that), the technique was the same: sweeping, graceful lines that easily showed elegance, sometimes sketched and sometimes drawn properly; he and Robin were quite alike in that aspect. Nami was a tad blunter: still feminine, still elegant (albeit in a rougher way), but there was something…some quality about her that made her pictures almost closer to Zoro’s in a way.
It was troubling that he couldn’t explain it, but maybe the difference lay in that Robin was already a woman, whereas Nami, tomboyish and independent, still had to find that part of her.
Regardless, he’d never shown any of them his pictures, and now…now he was attempting to do something he’d never done before.
He knew it was a bad idea.
A group shot, he figured, would be the perfect thing. They could hang it in the galley and…
“Luffy! Chopper! Get back here!” Nami shrieked, stomping (yes, stomping) to drag them back by ears and antlers, and she stood sullenly, arms crossed. It only took a scant number of seconds for them to take off once more.
Zoro yawned, got sniped at by Sanji, and then the two of them were off (luckily it was just words this time, or else Merry would be needing repairs again), which led to Nami turning to add her voice to the cacophony, and he sighed and put his brushes down. It was a lost cause all around.
“Long-nose-kun?”
“Yes, Robin?”
“Perhaps if this isn’t working, we can have seven pictures in the galley instead of one?” she asked with a graceful smile and graceful hands tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“I think it’s going to have to be that way, Robin,” he finally admitted, packing up his utensils.
“Ooh, Usopp’s done already? That’s so fast! I wanna see, Usopp!”
And now he had to fend off Luffy (and, inevitably, Chopper) as he attempted to make his way to the men’s cabin without dropping anything.
He was never going to attempt a group drawing again.
Ever.
Mood: Crushed
Rating: PG-15 (for implications)
Pairing: Merryshipping
Word Count: 487
Zoro watched them with an unreadable look on his face. His crewmates. His nakama. His…well, he supposed ‘lovers’ wasn’t really the proper term for what they did. Sure, there was plenty of love involved, but Luffy really didn’t know the significance of what they were doing and Usopp had his true love and Nami and the cook? Something to do; teenage hormones acting up; whatever the reason…
Zoro just didn’t fit. It hurt him somewhat, although he’d never admit to something as petty as that. But some part of him always felt a little betrayed, that when they were finished, the four of them curled up in a pile and left him to go on watch.
Tonight, he didn’t. He wanted, just for a second, to feel what they all felt for each other. It didn’t have to be love; he didn’t believe in love as it was so often portrayed, but…
Family. Belonging. He just wanted to feel like…like he wasn’t extraneous. Like he meant something to them, all of them useful, needed: to cook, to navigate, to repair, to lead. And he was just the other one that could fight. He slept all the time. Heck, his only real duty was to lift and lower the anchor.
And there they were, clothes flung all over the galley and the four of them in a tangle of limbs and hair in the middle of the floor. And here he was, shirtless but with his pants back on, and he could join them, but it would still feel wrong…
Closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall, he sighed and attempted to go to sleep.
Barely seconds later, however, he heard the shuffle of bare feet on the wood floor and felt something drape across his lap, lips lazily connecting with his as he opened his eyes with a start.
“You looked lonely,” Sanji informed him rather bluntly. Rather calmly, as well, seeing as how the man was completely naked. “Come and join us?”
“Nah,” Zoro looked away from the dishevelled blonde. “I don’t belong in there.”
“Hmm,” Sanji paused before curling up close to him and mouthing a quick kiss to his neck. “Do you mind if I stay with you, then?”
Zoro didn’t answer, but Sanji took it as an affirmative and got up long enough to pull a blanket over them and coax Zoro to lay down. And Zoro, laying there with Sanji snuggled up to him, felt something stir inside of him.
“Nakama, remember?” Sanji asked sleepily, and even though Zoro knew that perhaps he’d never fit in the same way the others did, he was still cared about. He was still wanted.
And the next time when the others fell asleep in a pile and, after a few seconds, Sanji extricated himself and went to Zoro’s side, he thought that maybe he could get used to this after all.
Mood: Curious
Rating: PG
Pairings: None, really
Word Count: 467
Chopper had promised the effects would wear off soon. Of course, that didn’t stop him from cursing the strange fruit they had all eaten, but the strangest part wasn’t the ears or the tail: it was the urges.
And right now, the cat’s infamous curiosity was making a rather lovely and inopportune appearance. Because while he wasn’t a cat, exactly, (unlike Nami, who somehow managed to make ears and a tail suit her), he was still from the same family. And while he was pretty sure there weren’t any tigers out there with green fur, the stripes didn’t leave much to the imagination.
However, what was more distracting at the moment was the darn cook’s tail. What right did it have to be so shiny and bushy? So soft-looking? And why did he think that the infuriating man smelled good all of a sudden?
“Oi, idiot, what’s the big idea?” Sanji turned, wondering why Zoro now had a mouthful of his tail. His tail. “Dinner’s only an hour.”
“It’s distracting me,” Zoro replied, although it was slightly muffled. “It’s just swishing around.”
“Go bug Luffy or something. He’s got a tail, too,” Sanji rolled his eyes and continued chopping vegetables. It was a little annoying considering that his claws got in the way, but at least most of his body had stayed the same.
Like his legs.
Which he was going to use to kick the infuriating Marimo in the head if he didn’t let go of his tail in the next ten seconds.
“You smell good.”
“I what?”
“You smell good, cook,” Zoro looked rather bemused, and still had a mouthful of hair. “Dunno why I never noticed it before…”
“Well, keep in mind that I am the only man on this ship that takes regular showers. And no, I’m not counting the times you’ve jumped in the ocean to save Luffy ‘showers,’ idiot. Salt is horrible for your skin, and brine doesn’t make you smell any better,” Sanji muttered, mostly under his breath, but Zoro’s new-found hearing picked it up.
“Kinda fruity, though…”
“Well, after all, I don’t have money to buy shower gel, and as long as it’s just a little bit…wait, why am I telling you this? Get off of my tail!” Sanji blinked rapidly and changed the subject, ears flattening down onto his head as he turned.
“But I…”
Robin glanced up as a man-tiger hybrid flew out through the galley door, and she chuckled before raising a feathered hand to her mouth as Zoro glared at her. “Well, you must remember, Swordsman-san, what they say about curiosity and cats…” she raised a wing in a wave and went back to reading as Zoro growled, tail swishing rather forlornly behind him as he went to take a nap in the mikan grove.
Mood: Cynical
Rating: PG
Pairing: None mentioned; imply what you will…
Word Count: 480
“I have come to a conclusion.”
Commodore Smoker sighed and glanced at the man currently occupying his room…not that the man was an invited guest, per say, but since he seemed to show up nearly everywhere that Smoker did, he took it for granted that the brat would try to sneak in with him.
“And what, pray-tell, is this ‘conclusion?’” he humoured the young man…at least for the moment.
“You…” the other started, with the air of somebody about to divulge one of the secrets of the universe, “…are a cynic.”
“I’m a what now?”
“A cynic!”
“A cynic.”
“Yes. As in, you believe that, for the most part, people are scum.”
“Portgas, let me assure you that I do not think ‘people’ are scum. Pirates are a different story…and not really ‘people,’ as far as I’m concerned,” Smoker crossed his arms and leant against the lone desk in the room.
“I’m wounded. You have dealt me a fatal blow, and I’m tempted to crawl off into a corner and huddle there until I die…”
“Then shut up and do it already,” Smoker rolled his eyes, completely cutting off the rather dramatic monologue of the man on the bed.
Ace huffed, blowing a few strands of dark hair out of his face, and rolled onto his stomach so he could prop his chin up with his hands. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m a cynic, remember?”
“Yes; yes. However, I’m sure there’s a cure. If I can just convince you that not all humans are as worthless as you seem to claim…”
“Not remotely interested. Sorry.”
“Because I can assure you that there are plenty of worthy people in this world and…”
“That man you’re chasing,” Smoker said suddenly, and Ace went quiet. Too quiet, and as the Marine turned to look at him, he was almost shocked. There was a dark, flickering halo around the pirate and his eyes were hooded…he wasn’t a boy in that moment. He was a man who deserved to be the Second Division Commander of the largest pirate crew on the Grand Line.
“The man I’m chasing is a despicable human being who only cares for his own ambition. He took the life of his friend to get farther ahead. I only told you that not all humans are scum, Commodore. There are some, however, that are,” Ace’s voice was low, and Smoker gazed at the man with a type of new-found respect. “The world is changing,” Ace finally said, dropping the seriousness and giving Smoker a smile. “So? Can I buy you a drink?”
“If you promise not to do that again. Being deathly terrifying is my specialty.”
“I can play with the best,” Ace shrugged. “You coming or not?”
He strode out, and Smoker vowed to never underestimate the young man again.
Apparently there was more to this pirate than first met the eye.
Mood: Depressed
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Word Count: 500
Sanji looked out the window and heaved a sigh. The swordsman had been out near the figurehead all day, silent and brooding and nobody had dared to approach him.
Not even for lunch.
Or dinner.
But it was nearing nightfall now, and there was only so long one could just sit there (and he hadn’t even been napping).
So, after drying the last dish, Sanji put it back into the cupboard and hung up his dishrag before lighting a cigarette and pushing his way onto the deck.
“Oi, baka.”
“What d’you want, ero-cook?”
“Want to know why you’ve been out here in a funk all day,” Sanji leant on the railing beside the green-haired man. He noticed that Zoro had the white sword in his lap and he was running his fingers over the bindings almost reverently. “Who was she?”
“Hmm?”
“The girl who first owned that sword,” Sanji clarified.
“How…”
“It looks like a girl’s sword. Those other two,” he pointed at the remaining ones strapped to Zoro’s haramaki, “those look like men’s swords. But this one…” he held his hand out and Zoro wordlessly passed the white sword over with a warning glare.
Sanji ignored it and inspected the shining blade. “She died, didn’t she? That’s why you carry this.”
“Yeah,” Zoro looked amazed that the cook would know such a thing, but maybe it was obvious. After all, why else would he hold the katana in such high regard?
“Why did you take it?”
“A promise,” Zoro said simply, and Sanji didn’t press. He could understand that. “Today…today is the anniversary of the day she died.”
“Wait here,” Sanji handed Wadou back and went into the kitchen, emerging a few moments later with a bottle of expensive rum. “Here.”
“Aw cook, the best rum for me?”
“No, moss-head, for her. A lady only deserves the best.”
“Oh,” Zoro shook his head and stood, holding Wadou in one hand while he uncorked the bottle and took a swig, holding it out as Sanji rolled his eyes took his own swallow. Zoro accepted the bottle back before upending it and pouring the rum into the ocean, the dark liquid swallowed immediately by the blue of the sea. “I promised you, Kuina. And I’m going to keep that promise. I will be the world’s greatest swordsman,” he said, short and blunt like his speeches always were, but it got the point across.
“Kuina?”
“That was her name,” Zoro’s voice was scratchy.
“I’m sure she’d be proud of you.”
“You think?”
“Well, as proud as anyone could be of you.”
Zoro shot him a glare but Sanji merely smiled and eventually he shook his head. “I’m going to bed.”
“Good night then, Marimo.”
“Yeah. You too, love-cook.”
Sanji turned and watched him go, wondering if Zoro had loved her.
But no, this was Zoro.
Regardless, the cook was moderately happy that the swordsman was out of his funk, and he lit a new cigarette and stayed to watch the sun set.
Link to Part TWO