Elaine-Fading-Call says:
Hello all and welcome to my new story to initiate a fresh and new return to this site in hopes of improving my writing more. I'm still trying to get a proper grasp on first person writing, as it is quite difficult trying to make it easy to read and understand from how my OC sees and feels things. This story will just be a starter for me, but I do hope that others will read it and can provide me with any constructive criticism they can give, but please, no flaming. I'm only here to improve my story writing and because I really enjoy fanfiction and anime a little too much.
This will contain romance, though that will show a little later on as far as I can see because this is Zoro we're talking about. Although, after this chapter you may instantly realise what type of relationship the two will have, though it doesn't mean it's going to be just that easy. I do plan to add some twists here and there. Like briefly mentioned beforehand, the writing style may be a little bit dodgy and maybe over-wordy at times, but I'm trying to find a groove in where I find it easy to write.
Umm, oh yeah! The first few chapters are before the storyline even begins, so when Zoro is 18, a year before he meets Luffy. I'm not sure at what age he left the dojo to travel and train to become the worlds best swordsman, so I just set this story a year before the actual One Piece storyline kicks in. Before I spoil how this story will run though, I'll just leave it you.
So if possible, read and review thank you. C:
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, nor will I ever, it respectfully belongs to Eiichiro Oda. I am merely a fan of the anime/manga, so the only thing I own here is my OC characters, the plot and the story I'm writing in total.
.Barkeep.
...a One Piece fanfiction
By Elaine-Fading-Call...
Chapter O N E
"This Barkeep Bites"
"FOUL MOUTH BRAT!"
The over-sized pear-shaped drunk diverted his enlarged hand towards me with an extremely terrifying speed that I considered myself profoundly fortunate to have even avoided the rash attempt of assault with a quickly muttered 'uh-oh' and hurried ducking of my body at the last second. The gush of wind that sent my short hair in to a chaos of mass destruction proved that it was indeed a wise decision to have relied on my reflexes when I did.
Regardless of being thankful for avoiding his pursuit of brutal onslaught, my stubbornness and pride as a girl working in such a place wasn't going to let that one go. After all, the moment you cave in to a drunk customer, barbarous pirate or not, a road of being taken advantage of and harsh menial times overcome as pirates' egos rapidly inflate and soon, you're practically their beer maid squeaking out fearful comments under their gaze. And I was not about to let a bunch of rugged outlaws push me around.
I steadied myself with crouching despite the little jolt of pain throbbing in my knees. I was much too focused on the rampaging little guys wielding their pitchforks that sliced and jabbed at just the right negative nerves for me to regard my assailant with a chafed glare.
"Impulsive fruit-loop," I seethed bitterly.
Mr. Pear took a swig of his alcoholic beverage before throwing back his head and barking out an overly exaggerated and extremely obnoxious laugh, "YAHAHA, SO YOU DO HAVE SOME LEVEL OF SKILL!"
I rolled my eyes as I composed myself at my full height of 5'7", appropriately patting down my hurricane-styled hair thanks to the impetuous brute and turning my back to the drunk pirate to regard his loud comment with a more restrained retort on my behalf of really wanting to turn back around and sock him in the face for what he tried to pull previously.
"It's just common sense to avoid being hit, moron."
"WHAT?"
I took the indignant slam on the table that cried under the abrupt impact from where he sat as my cue to high-tail it away from him and slip over the bar where my "boss" was nonchalantly cleaning out a few recently washed glasses. Realizing his lack of participation in something that could have had me in a coma, I stared him down for a few moments, mentally willing him to break down and begin excessively worrying for my well-being. But unfortunately, the stubborn nature I upheld was inherited from the old coot, as was my annoying tendency to calmly ignore one's presence when the time calls for it—just like he was currently presenting to me as he finished up on drying the last glass of his pile.
"Oi, jiji." I called to get his attention. "A little consideration and giving me a hand would have been much appreciated. I could have been severely hurt!" Expressing my vexed thoughts to him was just my way of teasingly reprimanding him, even though he does tend to comprehend it without any light taunting whatsoever.
He merely sighed, his expression going deadpanned at the glass mirroring his expression in distortion. "If I did that every time you badmouthed the customers I'd lose my customers. Your impudence to the more intoxicated customers who respond brashly suggests that maybe you should watch your tongue and quit acting cool before you lose a body part."
I scoffed despite the truthfulness in his over-wordy words, "It's not entirely my fault that they come here expecting to become some mindless and reckless brute. The moment they asked me to cater their drinks and then have the guts to splutter out complete nonsense and make idiotic attempts at pissing me off, at least in the back of their minds they should have realized what a huge mistake they just made." I sighed, shrugging my shoulders as I leaned against the bar and closed my eyes. "Besides, my "impudence to the more intoxicated customers who respond brashly" is something I've already prepared myself for if karma decides to bite at me for bullying the drunkards. All I'm asking for however, is that it would be a little nice for you to at least have some say in like, "Hey! Knock it off, you young whippersnappers! Don't make me drag you both to the floor by your ears!" I mean, come on!"
I grinned despite the dirty wash towel that made acquaintances with my face.
"Just bite your tongue and go wipe the empty tables, young whippersnapper." He ordered blandly.
I removed the smelly cloth and held it in front of me, pointing at it satirically. "You know, jiji... A clean cloth should be used for cleaning. I'm not sure if you should serve drinks in the cups you just dried, so how about I rewash them while you wipe the tables with a clean cloth."
A smile played at my lips when a little sprout of amusement took over the grump's face.
"Think you're the boss now, brat? Fine, rewash them all, I don't mind switching jobs for now. See if you can handle being the barkeep." He grinned wryly as he went to go fetch himself and me two clean cloths using the back door that connected his house to the bar, thus making this extravagant place both our home and work.
Amused myself, I grinned at nothing in particular as I pushed myself from the bar counter to turn and face the lively place with an entertained smile. It was roughly a quarter to six in the evening, and although the bar wasn't particularly rowdy at the moment, in another hour or so all the party drinkers will come spilling in and it will then be my time to shine as the newly appointed barkeep for today.
I enjoyed working with my old man; he was an entertaining fella that took me in when my parents ditched me to reunite with their dreams of becoming figures of justice when I was eight. Although I'm more masculine in behaviour due to being raised by a barkeep who usually serves the pirates that get rejected by other bars in town, I'm content with how I grew up.
A smirk slithered its way onto my lips at the remembrance of the day I finally chopped off my long brown hair that retained any physical signs of femininity when I was fourteen, a good three years ago. I had decided it was time I roughed it up because the pirates were really starting to get on my nerves with the constant deriding calls of "little girl", "cutie waitress" and "liquor princess" by those who dared to taunt me with their boisterous laughs and obnoxious comments. The old coot had shrugged nonchalantly at my change of heart, but he managed to crack a smile when he bluntly pointed out my crooked scissor technique and aided my hair by cutting it somewhat neater. I've managed to maintain the scruffy concave bob style cut and wear more baggy clothing because I felt it suited the look of someone who works at a bar despite the balding hair and casual style my old man sustains.
A towel-like fabric smelling of linen fresh flopped down on my already messed hair. I plucked it from its' perched spot and observed in mild delight as the old timer went around the bar and began making his slow progress at carefully spraying and wiping down the sticky tables before "rush-hour" strikes.
Humming a pleased tune to myself rewarded me in rewashing the glasses at the sink a lot quicker than I had expected, so I distractedly wiped them clean and placed them on the shelf under the bar until an unfamiliar pair of eyes met mine the moment my head peaked up above the wooden surface of the bar.
Quickly realizing that the apathetic male was a customer I straightened myself before leaning against the counter and smiling, "What can I get ya?" I always enjoyed asking that on the rare occasions where I was free of being the ever-so accused "beer maid" and actually had the privilege of serving others at the counter instead while the old coot was busy doing something else.
My customer simply nodded his head, "Just some sake."
I smiled at the order and grabbed for a glass, "Sure thing!"
Turning away from the green haired fella I scanned my eyes over the shelves on the wall behind the bar, looking for the large section of sake before finding it with a content smile and whisking it off the shelf to fill the glass sitting in front of the customer.
"Drink up," I mused.
A smile, albeit a bit slanted and resembling a smirk, broke out on the laid-back male's face as he gratefully hooked his fingers around the handle and leisurely brought the filled glass to his lips where he took an impulsive chug. The male was young, probably the same age as me, maybe older, but he certainly could finish a glass of alcohol in record time. Now if he was capable of handling his liquor he'd be great at a drinking contest.
He removed the glass from his lips, settling it down on the counter with a pleased sigh.
"That's the stuff!" He grinned before fixating his gaze on me briefly, "Another one, barkeep!"
I blinked, a bit taken off guard, before chuckling to myself, "You gotcha."
Barkeep, the word echoed repeatedly in my mind. I mentally grinned to myself as I poured the now loosened up male another drink.
Instead of guzzling down the drink this time, he paused with the glass at his lips, one eye closed while the other was now focused on me.
"Now that I think about it... Aren't you a little young to be a barkeep?" he asked.
"Aren't you young yourself?" I retorted simply, leaning against the bar on my forearms while inspecting his odd green hair, the three gold piercings dangling from his left ear and then down to the three katana resting on his hip. I raised my brows curiously, "So you're a swordsman? That's cool, I guess."
He nodded his head and placed down another empty cup in front of me. Wow, that was quick.
I lightly scoffed at him, "Another already? Are you trying to get drunk fast? Where's the moderation these days, sheesh."
His eyes narrowed. "Just pour me another glass," he grumbled.
Complying with his demand I slowly refilled his glass this time, finding pleasure as he took notice of the rate at which I served him this time, eyes hardening once again when he took the drink wordlessly and brought it to his lips.
A smile played at my lips, "Grumpy potato. You and the old fart would get along just swell." I remarked casually.
"Shut up." he muttered.
Noting the tone screaming "you're really annoying" in his simple demand made me slightly chafed. I wouldn't have minded if it was just a blunt "shut up", but by adding that slight emphasis caused a greater impact on those two words. And it irked me for many reasons, possibly because of Mr. Pear having tried to assault me previously left me a little incensed and I'm still cooling down from it; whatever really had me agitated though, caused my brows to knit together as I leaned closer to him, narrowing my own eyes on his somewhat irritated visage.
"You're the one with the drink, so bite your tongue and get yourself wasted, over-confident swordsman." The warm bubbles boiling inside my being hazed out any logical and rational reply I could have come up with instead.
Noticing the twitch of his brow however, caused a satisfied smile to play at my lips as I leaned a little back away from him.
"'Over-confident swordsman'? Should a barkeep really be picking fights with their customers?" he bit back almost calmly, but the vexed tinge and tightening of his jaw was a dead give away that I was positively annoying him.
At the inquiry though, I laughed to myself, subconsciously out loud for others around the bar to hear as well.
"This bar serves mainly pirates for crying out loud! You need to have some attitude if you're gonna survive working in this place." I explained while flashing him an amused smirk.
His eyebrows rose while looking around and grumbling something along the lines of "Pirates, huh?" under his breath before resuming back to the unfinished beverage in his hands.
Although it was a rhetorical question to himself I still nodded my head before being invaded with sudden questions hitting me that I was just itching to ask. Some were more than likely stupid, and I really hated stupid questions myself, so in a moment of being a hypocrite I returned my attention to the swordsman awaiting another refill.
Bringing the bottle to his glass I asked, "So are you a pirate?"
He seemed to smirk at the question before grabbing hold of the glass, "Tch. No way in hell."
Okay, so technically I wasn't a hypocrite anymore now that I wasn't expecting that type of answer.
"Just a swordsman then?" I asked curiously.
He nodded his head.
"Why three swords? Can you even use three swords? Because you're starting to sound like that pirate hunter that roams in these waters." I said more to myself than to him.
That seemed to amuse him, what with that slanted cross between a smile and smirk playing on his lips.
"Oh?" He raised the glass to his lips, "Pirate hunter, huh?"
I frowned at the lack of response. With his minimal usage of words, the fuse inside me was starting to light once again, finally beginning to become fed up with his lack of commitment to a decent conversation.
Rashly, I jutted an accusing finger in his face while glaring. "For crying out loud, a little more than just a few words in your reply would be nice! I'm trying to be friendly, but it appears I ultimately fail in that category when it comes to conceited others who I know nothing about, you egotistical swordsman!" I deprecated the sword-wielding veggie head.
If my glaring eyes were correct then the male was currently growing in impatience as his jaw tightened further and he screwed his eyes shut. Unfortunately for both of us, my short fuse was already relighted and I was ready to criticize this stranger some more.
"Wannabe swordsman that knows nothing of socializing or friendly and light conversations... You're going to end up lonely and sad at this rate, crying to yourself on a couch while chugging down glass after glass of alcohol until you're completely wasted and in a fabricated dreamland that your subconscious made to keep you from suicide..!" I was now grumbling this to myself as I unconsciously poured myself a glass of sake and took a swift swig at it.
"W-What?"
I ignored his low growl, opting to rudely point at him as I quickly finished the rest of my drink. I felt giddy inside; indulging in the buzzing feeling running through my body as my mind quickly became a little cloudy. At realization though, I mentally cursed myself, pushing the glass away but retaining a vice grip on the bottle. Somewhere inside me, the already intoxicated part was fighting my consciousness for more of this addictive libation.
I glared at the male for my current mental frustration, only half aware of how truly mad he was himself.
"Y-You heard me, you irritable vegetable!" I snapped.
"That's it!" he shouted, standing and slamming his hands down on the counter while leaning closer to shout in my face. "I don't even know you but you haven't gotten off my back since the moment I sat down here! Shut the hell up and do your job right!"
Offended, I took a step back to slowly reassess what he just yelled at me. Do my job right? That pompous bastard!
Mimicking his action of slamming my hands down on the bar counter I reeled myself closer to him to bark, "I am doing my job right—YOU'RE JUST BEING AN UNRESPONSIVE AND UNFRIENDLY BASTARD TO MY ATTEMPTS AT LIGHT AND FRIENDLY CONVERSATION!"
"THAT'S BECAUSE YOU WOULDN'T SHUT UP AND KEPT ASKING QUESTIONS EITHER WAY!"
"YEAH? WELL, THAT'S CALLED "GETTING TO KNOW EACH OTHER", MORON! ALSO, I'M SUPPOSED TO BE CIVIL AND ASK ABOUT MY CUSTOMERS! IT'S ALSO VERY WELL KNOWN AS "CUSTOMER SERVICE", IDIOT."
He clenched his jaw for a moment, eyebrow twitching as he banged a fist down on the counter. "WHO THE HELL ASKED YOU TO EXPLAIN IT TO ME? I'M NOT AN IDIOT!"
"YOU SURE ABOUT THAT?" I fired back, unaware of the presence encountering us for I was too engrossed with harassing this stranger.
"Hey! Knock it off, you young whippersnappers! Don't make me drag you both to the floor by your ears!"
Before I was even fully capable of registering the gruff voice, a strong vice-like grip latched onto my right ear and the male's left ear, forcefully pulling our heads down to the bar's surface with a mind-numbing impact that racked my brain and thundered one extremely painful headache for many moments after. I didn't bother to lift my head after the intruder released his bruising hold on my abused ear, my head was too busy running an inner marathon that felt like it could go on forever. Much to my displeasure though, the swordsman seemed to recover quicker than me, barking at my old man that that indeed did hurt like hell and a few other things before crossing his arms and grumbling under his breath.
When the people in my head stopped spinning I groaned, grasping onto my head and slowly lifting it up just to catch sight of the smug smirk tainting the old fart's face.
I scowled at that complacent look, "Oh, so now you show some consideration! THANK YOU. I very much enjoyed that, you old coot."
He seemed to enjoy it at first, but that was only short lived. He folded his arms over his chest, his expression dropping as a prolonged sigh broke past his lips and his shoulders sagged. "You were disturbing the few customers we have." he stated wearily.
The bitterness I wanted to bite at someone was strong, but that exasperated tone made me understand that I've dealt my old man enough trouble for today. So instead, I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose and dropping against the counter in debilitated defeat.
Some shuffling was audible, and before I could lift my head I realized with a sheepish grin, that I was mentally being reprimanded for still having a strong grasp on the bottle of sake despite the previous assault taken to my head. Gramp's fingers easily pried the bottle away, grumbling something incoherent under his breath and then fixated another glare on me.
"Not only are you seventeen and underage, you're also a lightweight. I recommend that you don't ever drink, you get drunk too easily. It's shameful." he oppressed with an indignant frown.
The swordsman across from me scoffed, a taunting smirk playing at his lips. Already anticipating the ridiculing words about to leave his condescending lips, I glared hatefully, hoping to make him back down with my mental will power alone. Unfortunately, that was but a mere hopeful wish.
"What kind of barkeep is a lightweight?" And then he had the decency to laugh.
I repressed the urge to seize his other ear and smash his head onto the counter repeatedly. Not only was I enraged that he made a mockery out of me, I was also grueling over the fact that even myself believed that it was only fair that he jeered and jab at me like I had spontaneously done so to him. A groan rumbled in my throat, but my conscience was lecturing me to keep it hidden and just sit their and take it like a man—even if I am biologically a female.
Gramp's had managed a short lived chuckle, squinting eyes opening to regard the amused swordsman with an apology. "Sorry for earlier, my granddaughter has a bit of an attitude." His eyes briefly flickered over to me before scoping out the veggie head with a wry grin, "Whatever you have had already is on the house, as is whatever else you're planning on having today."
Veggie head was pleased and surprised, his eyes widening slightly before a grin settled on his lips. "Really? Thanks."
I didn't even bother judging that, he was the one in charge after all. Besides, it's our sought of customer service. It's a fortunate thing that most of our customers are pirates with gold and whatnot; otherwise I'm sure I would have run the old coot out of business long ago with my unbalanced behaviour.
Just as the male was beginning to order me around for his fifth refill a couple of customers who had just entered had stumbled back, the middle one of the group pointing accusingly at veggie head and bellowing one sentence that didn't surprise me at all. Oh no, in actual fact, it caused me to deadpan and roll my eyes sardonically.
"I-Isn't that Pirate Hunter, Roronoa Zoro?"
Of course.
A/N: Well, I hope I at least kept some people right until the end of the chapter. As you may have noticed, I haven't given out the name of my main OC yet, the same goes for Gramps, who will continue to be called "old coot", "old timer", "old man" or whatever else I can come up with. For my main OC though, I had felt that I shouldn't give her name away as of yet, mainly because I wanted to explore her character more. And as you can see, she's got a short temper, sharp tongue, is irrational and is stubborn. Just perfect for Zoro, ne? I enjoy writing her. xD
Oh, and I thought I should mention this before I forget! I will be using some Japanese terms in the story, like suffixes and names of things because I feel I should have some Japanese terms at the very least. I will also be putting a translation at the end of each chapter that has non-English words in case others don't know what they mean.
Jiji: It's just another form of calling someone 'Gramps'. Ace calls Garp by that and it really sticks once you trying saying it out loud to yourself. :P
I hope I haven't bored anyone to tears with this chapter, the next one should be more interesting. It all depends on how I write it.
Reviews are loved, the same goes for constructive criticism. (:
- Elaine-Fading-Call going to get something to eat. Bye-bi~