Post by BlacKitten on Jul 30, 2017 13:19:33 GMT -5
Never would he ever imagine himself becoming a marine soldier. Nineteen years old, he was technically of legal age to become one despite being so young. No ambitions, no drive, no patriotism, no one even forced him to do this. In the end, choices had to be made. Complex circumstances demanded an intricate course of action. A roundabout way to achieve his true goals, this was his answer - serving the World Government by becoming a small cell of the entire face that represents them. Neither hating nor liking the thought of it all, he felt indifferent about his first official, recognizable job.
Many might think that being a marine soldier was a dangerous job but not to him. What could be more dangerous than the obstacles thrown at him for the past few years? Compared to all of that, this was nothing. The biggest challenge would be the process of blending in – which means wearing the same identical uniform that all lowly ranked soldiers wore. Everyone looked the same to him at first glance, the same white, sleeveless, button-up, collared shirt with a wilting navy blue tie looped around the collar and dangling at their chests. Not to mention they all were the same pants of solid dark blue, brown boots, and a white cap with the word ‘MARINE’ etched at the very front. The all bared the same symbolic logo on the backs of their shirts right above the same word: ‘MARINE’. The dark blue symbol appeared like the number ‘3’ that has been rotated counterclockwise by ninety degrees and placed on top of a double-sided horizontal ranch. He had no knowledge as to how this symbol came to be, but it was branded on flags and the sails of marine ships, a very commonly seen image.
Personally, he wasn't to fond of having to wear their uniform.
The only way to distinguish one from another was by the physical build of their bodies and the shade of their skin. But, there were only so many possible combinations that his brain couldn’t help but register all of them as identical beings. They appeared like a mass-produced product from a factory line, clones of some generic-looking man. The gender ratio was definitely in favor of men over women. He would estimate that perhaps over ninety-nine percent of the soldiers are males. How hard could blending in possibly be? That was the advantage of being a lowly ranked soldier; there were very few ways to visually distinguish one from another, not to mention the sheer number of them. High ranked officers had a more lax dress code or so it seemed; they could adjust their daily attires into whatever they deem appropriate to their individual style and taste. Since they were higher ranked, being able to easily distinguish them out of a mob would be relevant to followers like him.
The process in becoming a soldier placed a mild amount of stress onto him; he was glad to get that over with. A background check had to be done. Obvious checks would be to ensure that he hadn’t committed any felony, obviously making sure he didn’t possess a bounty on his head. In terms of record, both areas remained clean. He had lived a life of keeping a low profile. While he had interacted with marine soldiers before, they had paid very little attention to him, mostly distracted by a perceived threat. Even though he had achieved feats of his own as well as being a Devil Fruit user, they were ignored. No marine soldier even bothered to follow him. None even thought to ask what his name was or even asked anything that resembled a question to him. They had their opportunities to know who he is, and they showed no interest whatsoever. The amount of things that they could keep track in their heads appeared to have bene quite limited. The worst thing that could happen to him was if someone recognizes him, it wasn’t like he had done anything bad or questionable. In general, he had very few connections to other people. There were no evidences whatsoever to indicate his past actions. If there were any witnesses, he must have unintentionally made a very poor first impression on them such that he wouldn’t be remembered all to well. He was an enigma with very few recorded background. Without any knowledge of who he is, without credibility, and without any known skill, he was shoved into the rank of Seaman Recruit. He passed the physical examination; all he had to do was mimic the level of performance as those around him.
As of now, he was officially a marine soldier, marked with zero experience in navigating a ship, using cannon, wielding a sword and rifle, basic formalities, and other minor details. All of which were mostly true; he had no experience in most of the tasks that most soldiers would know.
Athens Island was the closest neighboring spot where a marine base was stationed. The size of this island was beyond any that he had ever stepped foot on. The sheer magnitude of the area would take weeks to just casually explore it all on foot. He had arrived here with the aid of a marine ship and was escorted into the facility of their base. Presumably, someone of authority would decide what to do with him as a soldier who went by the unique name of Pluto.