Learning the Ropes, it's my first day!

[York]

“TENSHUN!”

Every pair of black boots in the room clicked together at the heels, with everyone bringing a hand to their foreheads in salute to their superior officer. All but one, however, but hopefully, he would go unnoticed for a moment longer.

“Today is the start of a brand new life for you lot. You brave young men and women represent the future of justice, order, and our way of life as we currently know it.” The commanding officer marched down passed the line of new recruits, surreptitiously scrutinizing them as she walked past them. “We're all depending on you to do better than your very best, and loosen the grip that this new generation of piracy has gripped onto the throats of humanity.” She finally stopped at the last new recruit on the line, looking not at her, but at something in his hands that he was fiddling with. The superior did not say anything, waiting for the new recruit to notice her presence, and sheepishly turn around. It was his neckerchief that he had been fiddling with, desperately tying and untying it over and over again in an attempt to find the neat looking knot everyone else in line had mastered long ago.

“You have all been given your duties, you are dismissed. Except for you, you stay” she said to the recruit with the disheveled uniform, who had only now remembered to throw up a salute. Unlike the standard salute which required an inward facing palm, this marine’s palm faced outward, further frustrating the higher ranked official staring a hole into him. Feeling the room getting colder, and all too pleased to get out of Ensign Leena’s line of sight in her current mood, the other recruits marched out of the room, leaving her alone with the newest Marine Chore Boy, Adrian Idol.

The pause was uncomfortably long, and Idol could only feel like he was shrinking with every second he spent staring into Ensign Leena’s irritated eyes. Finally, she broke her stare and uttered a sigh. “Really, Adrian. This is the best you can do? And on your first day?”

Idol, feeling the back of his neck getting hot, brought down his saluting hand and looked down at his standard issued marine uniform. Granted, the shoes were stained with a bit of mud, the shirt wasn’t ironed quite right, the neckerchief was ruffled with all of the manipulating; Idol was proud of the fact that the shirt was tucked in, and that there weren’t any obvious stains. That had to be worth something, right? He wasn’t about to ask, as he had a funny feeling that he wouldn’t like the answer.

“I’m sorry, Henson. I promise, I’ll do better next time” he sheepishly said.

“You don’t break from your salute until I tell you ‘at ease’, number 1” she said, as Idol quickly threw up his poor salute in response. “Number two, you’ll do yourself a service to reread the handbook you were given to better remember the proper salutes, uniform guidelines, and ranks!”

Idol didn’t want to admit that he had lost the handbook given to him the other day, and merely nodded in agreement. Once he got his apartment sorted out, he was sure he’d be able to find it in no time. “Remember, we’re all counting on you. For Sifs sake. And if you can’t get your act together, and end up drawing the ire of someone of a higher rank who suddenly decide that you aren’t worth a next time, then you’ll be letting all of us down.”

Ensign Leena turned on her heel and approached a door on the opposite side of the room, stopping as she reached the threshold. “And we marines, especially that Gunhildr, hate being let down, Chore Boy,” she said, glancing back at Idol with a stern expression before disappearing behind the door. “At ease.”

As the ensign left the room, Idol suddenly realized that he had stopped breathing and took a deep breath. While used to getting yelled at from his days on the WBCW Battle Ship, this was a whole different experience. When Ensign Leena spoke to him, it had felt like a weighted blanket was being pressed over his entire body. It was nothing like their prior interactions, before Idol had signed up for the Marines. Slowly bringing his saluting hand down, Idol undid the poor knot in his neckerchief again, and tried once more to make it match the knot the other recruits had.

[mildofthewild]

"AND MARCH, MARINES!" 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the compound, another regiment was already beginning its morning routine. Another officer, a rather stern-faced individual, watches as his recruits begin their marathon, all of them marching in line and gathering at attention before the starting line. Knees up, shoulders straight, faces set...well, almost. 

"Zzzzzz...."

"...Recruits, I want you to pay attention." The officer says, marching forward as the others stare after him, a few snickering but the majority worried for the snoring marine's well being. 

This marine was a little different than the average; she towered over the majority, and easily outweighed a good portion. While the rest had their hair hidden behind their signature white caps, this recruit's mane could not be contained, bushing up beneath the bill and brim as a jungle of vibrant red locks and spiky tufts. This recruit was a resident from one of the toughest islands among the North Blue formations, a place of wild beasts and even wilder people. This recruit was Sif Gunhildr, a resident from the Pikt. Archipelago, and currently the slumbering giant that was marching while she was snoring away, greatly annoying her officer in charge. 

"I've had it up to here with this lollygagging and this tomfoolery, now recruit Gunhildr, if you don't come in first from our morning run, I'm gonna make it my mission that YOU DON'T EAT A SINGLE MORSEL OF BREAKFAST, LUNCH, OR DINNER TODAY, DO YOU HEAR WHAT I'M TELLING YOU?! RUN, GUNHILDR, RU-" 

The officer couldn't even finish his statement. The threat of no food had set the marine's gears in motion, Sif's eyes flying open just as quick as her legs tore into the sanded track around the compound. 

"Don't take my food, Cap'n, please! I'll beat 'em!" 

"What the....Dammit, recruits! Beat that bonehead! Don't let her cross the line!" The officer pulls at the sides of his own cap, eyes bloodshot at having his threat beaten so easily. The other recruits rush forward, all aiming to please, though several of them were at a loss for how they could beat a goliath like Sif...

[York]

Idol’s first task seemed simple enough; clean one of the main hallways from top to bottom. His many years of experience mopping floors, sweeping floors, polishing floors, and being pressed against floors was bound to make this job go smoothly, and no doubt grant him some praise at the hands of Ensign Leena and Sif. Heck, he’d make the floor so clean he could probably eat off of it.

The broom closet Idol had been told about wasn’t too difficult to find, and the pair of taller marines standing by the closet door beckoning him to approach only steeled his certainty. Idol didn’t recognize either of them from that morning’s briefings, so they must have been superiors. Idol approached them with a jaunty stride, and a real go-getter of a smile, stopping just in front of them with a salute and excited smile.

“You’re the new blood with the swabbing job, huh?” The one with the beard said, holding a floor brush in his hand.

“That’d be me. It’s my first day!” Idol said, excitedly.

“Well well,” said the blonde man wearing sunglasses who in his hand held a bucket, no doubt full of soapy water. “You must be very excited. You do know the rules of standing at attention, right?”

“Yes sir, I sure do,” Idol said through grit teeth, remembering what the Ensign had told him, and somehow recreating the immense pressure from the conversation.

“Good, let’s put your knowledge to the test then, shall we?” the bearded marine said, removing Idol’s marine issued baseball cap.

“Now don’t you break from your salute until you’re told. Don’t want us writing you up on your first day, do you?” Said the man in the sunglasses, lifting the bucket of soapy water over Idol’s head and carefully observing the new Chore Boy’s face.

Idol was at a loss for how to respond. To break his salute and punch these guys in the mouth for trying to embarrass him would have been really sweet, but he had already gotten Ensign Leena upset with him once already. What if this really was just a test to see his resolve in staying at attention until being told otherwise? The debate raging on in his head did not have an effect on his demeanor, however, as Idol maintained his salute and his smile.

The verity of the test became very clear when the bucket of soapy water was upturned over Idol’s head, and both marines let out a belly laugh as Idol remained stock still and sopping. “Alright, ya passed!” The bearded marine said, putting Idol’s dry hat on his wet head and the brush into his free hand. “Now you can get to work. We took care of the water for you. Couldn't fine a mop for you, though.” Dropping the bucket to Idol’s feet, both marines turned away from Idol and began to walk away. With their backs to him, Idol only imagined grabbing them by the waist and dropping them on their heads with a Gotch Suplex for his troubles. And if Ensign Leena had any complains, maybe a suplex to her too. With the fire ignited by this water prank, it may have taken an army to stop him from bringing the hurt to just about everyone here wearing a white shirt.

But Idol didn’t suplex anyone. Instead, he remained at attention with his wet clothes and his eyes half-shut to stop the stinging, waiting for the two words to free him from his current state and allow him to get to going on his current task.

“Alright, alright. At ease, Chore Boy,” one of them said as they turned a nearby corner.

Idol squeezed the brush in his hand and let out a frustrated sigh. Furiously, he brushed at the wet floor, positioning himself under a window to hopefully let some sunlight dry off his shirt and pants before too long. To think, that at his age, after all he had gone through, he would be subject to the same sophomoric levels of hazing and pranks that he had bravely powered through when he had first started training to be a wrestler almost 10 years ago. Had he made no forward progress after all this time?

[mildofthewild]

"Guh, she's s-so fast!" 

"Sif, c'mon, wait up! If we don't beat ya, none of us get food, you know!"

"Yeah, don't be selfish! It's your fault for sleeping during morning march!"

The rest of Sif's comrades chase behind her, pumping their arms as hard as they could to even keep Sif in their field of vision. All the while, the young wildfire of a Marine was outpacing them all, though the puffing of her cheeks made it quite clear that she was running on fumes. 

"Gasp, gasp, huff puff huff puff, N-NEVER! I need food, too! You guys are being selfish!" She shouts back, daring to look behind her for a brief second, her eyes popping out of her head once she sees just how close they all are...

"WAAAAH! P-push it, push it!" Sif immediately puts the pedal to the metal, pushing her body further as she slams her feet down against the sand, clouds of dust and sand pluming behind her and leaving her fellow marines faltering. Sif continues pushing herself, only taking a brief moment to look through a window near one of the marine structures...

"Wh-h-hey! Idol! Master! Good Morning! You swabbin' the halls! I remember doing the same! I'll be back to check on you! I've gotta win a race for food!" Sif calls out, probably only half of her words wafting through the open window as she races, a few marines following behind and coughing up their lungs. 

Before another figure zooms past...

"GUNHILDR!!!!!! IF YOU CAN'T BEAT ME, THEN NONE OF YOU EAT!!!!" 

The C.O. A dastardly Ensign, and one with a sore spot for Sif. 

Luftwig. 

"Eh? EH?!?!?! N-NOOOOOO, NO ENSIGN, PLEASE!" 

The Officer quickly catches up with Sif, overtaking her dust cloud with his own as he matches her pace for pace, not even breaking the sweat that was pouring down her own face. 

"I WON'T HAVE MARINES SLEEPING ON DUTY AND GETTING AWAY WITH IT! THIS IS THE END, GUNHILDR!!!!"

[York]

Idol’s ears perked up at the sound of him being called by name rather than by rank. His eyes were drawn to the window just in time to catch a head of spikey red hair zooming past, leading a cloud of dust and a number of other, far neater dressed marines. Even with that little glimpse, he was able to tell it was Sif calling to him.

Ever since Idol had agreed to take her on as his wrestling apprentice, she had just kept surprising him. First with her incredible enthusiasm and impressive strength, and now with her great speed and eye for detail. To be able to detect him while he was wearing his marine cap, from the other side of a window and while running at full speed. Was that her full speed? He certainly hoped so, as it would prove to be a heck of a task to keep up with her if it weren’t.

Seeing his disciple in such high spirits renewed Idol’s vigor. No doubt Sif had already gone through struggles such as these, and he had yet to be within earshot of her complain even a single time. Gripping his brush with his newfound strength, Idol scraped against the linoleum floors, ripping stains apart and erasing dirt patches stroke by stroke. “Had enough, boot scuffs? This is gonna hurt, dirt!” Idol muttered to himself as the task came closer and closer to completion. With how little he had spoken today, the worry of his mind losing its usual cutting edge and falling into a catchphrase laden pitfall was all too real and not the example Idol was looking to set for Sif. “It’s your time, grime. Time to meet your end, send. Se-sa-sand. Sand. Meet your and, sand.” Alright, they couldn’t all be winners.

It wasn’t long before the hallway was spick and span, courtesy of some Idol Elbow grease. As he pulled off his marine cap and wiped at his now dried forehead, a hand fell to his shoulder and gave him a light jostle. “Not bad, Chore Boy!” a voice behind him said. Idol looked over his shoulder at the bearded marine from before, sporting a very smug expression. Suppressing his desire to grab the man by the arm and do something unspeakable to it, Idol merely smiled as he turned to face him, drawing his eyes to his uniform in search of an insignia to give away his rank. “Keep up the good work and you might just start rising in the ranks. What’s your next task?”

“I’ll be in the kitchen helping serve breakfast” Shot in the dark time, how mad could he be after all? It was his first day. Idol said it in a quiet, quick way to somehow slip it passed him. “E-ensign...”

“Wow, Kitchen work, huh? Well, you’d better hurry then, it’s almost time for chow.”

"I'll take care of that right away, Ensignnnnn" Idol trailed off, desperately waiting for his superior to fill in the blank and hand him a name. He figured that it was wise to start learning some names around here to start building an internal rolodex.

The ensign's brows furrowed and his smile dissapeared as he impatiently pointed a hand down the hall. "What are you waiting for, a hand written invitation?" he said,. "Move it! Today, Chore Boy!"

Idol scrunched up his face, but lowered his head to keep his cap's brim covering his sour expression. Was it a crime to learn people's names around here? Geez. With a salute to the Ensign before him, Idol marched down the hall and down towards the dining hall. Hopefully,he’d see Sif there, it would have been nice to see a friendly face after the hour he’d had.

[mildofthewild]

Sif's breath catches in her chest as she keeps pushing her limits. Her face reddens and swims in perspiration as her body's fatigue and limits catch up to her, while Luftwig's robotic movements portray no effort on his part. His eyes remain steadfast on the encroaching finish line, his arms slicing through the air as he practically swims through the empty space. 

"C-Come on, Sif, don't lose now! They're serving bacon today!" 

"Those cheers will be your downfall, Gunhildr," Luftwig states simply, casting a quick glance at the frenzied mess that was his subordinate. Her arms flail limply as she quaffs breath after breath, her chest heaving with each intake and giving the impression of a failing steam engine as opposed to hardened soldier of the World Government. 

"Your sorry state only adds fuel to my fire...your behavior may be tolerated by my companions, but I can't stand the thought of the Marines being represented by someone as slovenly as you! If you want a place among us, you must work for it! Strength doesn't earn your place, a Devil Fruit doesn't negate the hard rules we have! If you want to be a Marine, you can't have everything handed to you! You have to work, just as hard as I have! MOVE IT, MARINE!" 

Sif's eyes bulge as she listens, half in reverence and half from mind-numbing exhaustion as she bares her fangs against the oncoming fatigue. Push. Push. Push. PUSH! 

Sif's feet pound even harder as small plumes billow from every footfall. Sif tries to mimic her superior's movements, but all the same, her flailing only pulls her to right behind Luftwig. The finish line was almost there...

A groan escapes her throat as she leans forward, arms at the ready as she lets instinct take over. Luftwig casually takes another glance, sparring a rare cock-eyed moment to regard the stature that his fellow Marine was taking. 

"Don't you dare transform. If you do, I will leave you a mile in the dust!" 

"I'm not!" Sif spits back, though it would be more accurate to call it unintelligible gasping as her hands pound down, the girl pulling herself forward by her strength to give her just a small edge. Not enough to win in the long term. But just enough to pull ahead by a few precious centimeters...

"GOAL!" She cries as she tumbles forward, pulling ahead and achieving a slight victory, collapsing into a pile of sweat, dry heaves and tears as she tries to regain her composure, all the while Luftwig behind her slows to a trot, looking in disgust at Sif's bulbous behind and frizzed, crimson locks being splayed out in a heap. 

"...That was a desperate move, Gunhildr. Sometimes you may not have the luxury of relying on such tactics. Fortunately for you, I wasn't expecting it. So I suppose I'll have to congratulate you on that...

"That will be all! Head for the mess hall! And be sure to thank your comrade for putting forth the effort to feed you all!" 

Luftwig sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, consternated as he turns back to Sif's quivering pile. What a lump...

"And, if you can, carry this sack with you." 

---

The mess hall explodes as a line of Marines break the doors down, forming a hurried line to be the first for bacon and eggs, a traditional if not welcome change of pace for the recruits as they make a hurried reach for the silverware, eagerly forming a posse in front of the smorgasbord on display. 

"Buckle up, rookie, Luftwig's crew is exhausted, which means we will be soon." Idol's fellow kitchen worker grumbles, already lining up several more fat strips of bacon to slap on the pans lined up behind them. "Yesiree..."

[York]

Idol opened the door to the kitchen area and was immediately met by an apron being flung to his face. Before he even had a chance to yank it off, he could feel himself getting pushed around from behind and guided somewhere. Finally getting it off his face, he was met with a grilling area with a mountain of eggs in a bowl, separated from a very large dining area by a waist high piece of glass. The doors were opening, and leagues of sweaty, hungry looking marines were storming in for meals

“Double time, Chore Boy!” Idol heard from behind him as he adjusted his apron around his waist and took off his cap to match the others around him. “We’ve got mouths to feed and not a lot of time. Crack those eggs, get the lead out, come on!”

Idol didn’t have to be told twice. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, and the proteins that came from the eggs were the foundation of muscle growth and energy development! Idol grabbed the highest egg on the peak and threw it into his other hand for a one hand crack. The egg’s contents hit the grill with a sizzle as he grabbed a new egg from the pile and dropped the now empty shells into the garbage bin next to him and repeated his egg cracking process. Another marine next to him would scoop one of the cooked eggs onto a plate before handing it someone else down the line who would add bacon, and another who would add a piece of toast. At the end of the line was a server, handing the plate off to the awaiting marine in front of them.

Like a machine, Idol would grab and crack eggs, and it wasn’t long until his pile was almost half-way gone and another recruit would come by with more eggs for the cracking. Those in line would stare at Idol’s efficiency to pass the time until it was their turn, with some clapping a hand in front of his head and whistling at him to try and break his focus and make him slip up. But to no avail, he would continue to crack these eggs like his very life depended on it, completely unaware of the trash bin next to him getting fuller and fuller by the minute.

[mildofthewild]

The marines in line look in shock as they watch the line move at a brisk pace; it wasn't uncommon for this company to be slow on kitchen duty, due to the sheer volume of Marines that would pack their way into the cafeteria. And yet, not one Marine was set to go hungry (at least not too hungry) as they filed in, mouth watering at getting breakfast so quickly and taking their seat. 

At the start, many were confused, but as the line thins, the few in the back notice a new face in the kitchen. One that can crack eggs one handed and looked like they could do the same with the stove if he tried. 

"Who the heck's that? Dude's built like a captain!" 

"I think that's some fresh meat, he must've came in recently!" 

"Say, I think that's the guy that was on clean up duty with Sif the other day!" 

As if speaking her name was a summoning ritual, the young woman finally made it to the cafeteria...mostly. She was still dazed, judging by her lumbering and the dark rings under her sunken eyes, the young woman practically being pulled and carried by at least four of her fellow marines, and it showed on their faces. 

"Jeeze, how much does she weigh?!" 

"Don't you know not to talk about a girl's weight?!"

"I don't even count Sif as a girl at this point, more like a sack." 

Too tired to object, Sif merely gurgles as she and the others bring up the end of the line, the others waving at the kitchen staff. "Hey, you still have some food, don'cha? Sif's the whole reason our company even gets to eat, hook her up with something at least!" 

"Yeah, she can even have some of my bacon!" The others follow suit, grateful for their hero as she slumps against the countertop, tongue lolling as she tries to hold herself up. It seems she doesn't recognize Idol at the counter yet...

[York]

"Who the heck's that? Dude's built like a captain!”

Idol’s concentration broke for a moment as he looked to his left and right. Was there someone with an impressive physique around? This he needed to see.

His gaze landed on his shirt and he looked down. The moisture from the rudimentary shower he was given earlier made it cling to his upper body very tightly, and the heat from the grill making him sweat was doing no favors in trying to free it. His pecs and shoulders were on full display through his white shirt and he couldn’t help but smile. Despite his shorter size and lack of real exercise equipment, he had done a fine job staying fit through the months since he left home.

His arms were running on muscle memory alone, but they immediately stopped where they were when Sif was carried in. He almost dropped his eggs at the sight of the mighty Sif unable to even stand on her own strength. Who could have brought her to her knees in such a way? Was there a present threat in the base?

But things cleared up quickly, as Idol figured out what the other marines meant by ‘The whole reason they’re eating.’ Whatever ordeal her superiors had put her through, for her companion’s sake, must have been exhausting. She needs her proteins and vitamins refueled, and that was the job of the crack team working the kitchen!

“It’s coming, Sif!” Now working double time, Idol grabbed a hold of two eggs at once and cracked them both at the same time over the grill. With the last of the eggs dropped over the grill, Idol reached out to the marine directly next to him to help with the plating. As his part of the job was done, Idol made it his responsibility to get Sif’s plate to her. Eggs and toast were pilled high, and as per the instructions of one of her peers, a few extra slices of bacon draped on along side them.

As he was about to hand his plate down the line to Sif, Idol had the plate suddenly yanked from his hand. “If you’re done with those eggs, throw that out, would you?” The marine at the end of the service line said, gesturing to the trashcan full of eggshells that Idol was responsible. “We’ve got a lot of cleanup to take care of now, you can clean up your mess first!”

As much as he wanted to see Sif get the meal she rightfully deserved, the other marine was right. This was working time, not ‘see your friends’ time. As he pulled the bag out of the trash can and carried outside the back door, he could only shrug. This task would only take a minute, and he would definitely be back before Sif was done eating. They can talk about their experiences so far then.

[mildofthewild]

"We'll have to catch up with that guy later. What's he even doing here?"

"I heard he's joining up, I bet to stay close to Sif."

"...don't tell me-"

"No, idiot, who would be interested in that?! To kind of look after her, cause...well, you know."

Sif's fellow recruits make idle conversation as they drag the lug to a table, grabbing the pile of food Idol had prepared and placing it before the slumped woman...who wasn't reacting.

"Yeah, I know. Still, part of me doesn't get it, she's not that much weirder than some of the lieutenants."

"She is a lot more wild, though."

The table suddenly shakes, as if on cue, as the wild mane of hair shifts. Sif's eyes open wide, her nostrils flare, and drool flows from the corners of her mouth like a waterfall...

"FOOOOOOOOOOD!"

"Case in point."

Sif immediately shovels strip after strip of bacon down her throat, living up to her Devil Fruit and embodying the boar.

"Sif, slow down, your friend didn't make all that for you to choke on it."

"Not to mention it'll make you fat...ter."

Sif pauses, blushing slightly as she looks down at her...generous proportions. "H-hey! You can't just say that to a lady! Haven't you heard of chivalry?"

"No."

"Hmph!" Sif concedes, glaring at her comrade before shoving another piece of toast in her mouth. Of course, speaking of...

"You said my friend, you mean Master Idol? Where'd he go?"

"Cleaning duty. They're really putting him to work as a chore boy, hehe, remember those days?"

"Yea," Sif remarks, blankly while absently chewing on her breakfast. She stares after the exit, wondering just when she would see her Master again...

---

The day continues as normal. Sif managed to finish most of her morning routine without incident before packing herself up for patrol. After the business she and Idol went through in the main town, she wasn't expecting anything to truly bite her while taking a stroll.

The sun shines brightly overhead, beaming down the back of Sif's feral mane as she makes her way down the sand-dusted streets of Conomi, idly waving at citizens while absently munching on an apple. She was lost in thought, imagining the training regiments that she and Idol could be doing. She smiles dreamily as she imagines more suplexes, ring side dives, pile drivers, clenches. There was a world of fighting that Idol regaled her with, and she wanted to see it all...

"One day...we'll be like hammers of justice! And we'll pound nails of crime...and then pull them out and pound em again...and again! Cause...well, I can't think of what else hammers do..."

[York]

As the bag was mostly full of eggshells, it was very easy for Idol to lift and carry it all the way out to the waste disposal area of the marine base. It was quite far from the kitchen, but it made sense for that to be the case, the last thing the kitchen staff needed was for the foul odor of yesterday’s trash stinking up the joint, and inviting vermin into the building.

As he heaved the bag into the dumpster found outside, he sighed and immediately raised his hands to his mouth and nose. The odor from the rest of the refuse had just hit him, and was reminding him that he still had work to do inside, far away from this place. He shuffled back inside and started to jog down the hallway, with hopes of catching Sif in time to talk to her about how his chores had been going. Maybe she would have stories of her own chore days to help keep his spirits up.

“There you are!” Someone said, grabbing Idol’s shoulder and stopping him in his tracks. Whoever it was had a really strong grip, and Idol almost fell backwards from the sudden stop. Looking over his shoulders, he was met by the blonde marine in sunglasses from before, still dawning that annoying smirk even after all this time. “Been looking for you. I’ve got your next job ready for you. Come on.”

“But I need to help finish cleaning up, don’t I?” Idol asked, pointing to the door leading to the kitchen and dining area. “I had to step out for a second.”

“Nonsense, they’ve got enough hands on deck, now come on.”

With his surprising strength, the marine practically lifted Idol off the ground and dragged him by his heels back down the hallway and out a side door. Idol, as someone unfamiliar with the compound’s layout, could have sworn he was being dragged through a maze. The dining area now being nothing more than a faint memory of what could have been.

“Alright, here we are!” The marine in the sunglasses said, coming to a sudden halt. An object in motion tends to stay in motion, however, and Idol proved that theory by not coming to a sudden halt with the marine and instead stumbling backwards and falling into a pile of clothing. Poking his head out, Idol found that he was back outside, but on another end of the compound, surrounded by piles and piles of dirty uniforms, a number of soap-filled tubs and washboards, and what seemed like miles of waiting clothes lines.

“Right, I’ll leave you to it then.” The sunglasses marine turned face and clapped his hands. “Good cleaning!”

Idol freed himself from his mess as he watched his superior disappear behind the door. Thankfully, he was outside, and wouldn’t get too engrossed in the stains and odors of the many uniforms left to him. Kneeling in front of one of the water tubs, Idol rolled up his short sleeves and grabbed the first shirt he could reach. “Lousy rotten ensign, pulling me away when I was gonna talk to Sif,” Idol muttered under his breath, his words shrouded by the sound of fabric scraping against the wooden washboard. “No good jerks. Pulling pranks on me. I’ll show them. I’ll show all of them.”

The day continued for Idol in that very area, scrubbing and hanging shirts and pants alike, continuously muttering insults and complaints as the space on the clotheslines filled up more and more, and going back to scrubbing right after. “Buncha pricks is what they are. Load of jackasses if I ever seen ‘em.”

As his piles got shorter and shorter, and each subsequent tub got dirty Idol wiped his brow and stood tall with pride. He wasn’t done yet, but the work that had seemed so daunting mere hours ago was whittling away to nothing before his very eyes. It was still far too early in the day to think about getting back to his apartment and getting some rest, but with every hour of work under his belt, there was one left separating him from some time to himself.

As he approached the clothesline with yet more wet clothes to hang up, Idol spotted some movement between the pants that made him freeze in place. Shadows behind the trousers got Idol to believe that he wasn’t alone. Was it another chore boy to give him a hand with the laundry task? He sure took his sweet time.

“Hey, who’s there?” Idol called. "Come on, show yourself." The shadow behind the clothes stopped moving, and appeared to turn their head towards him. Idol pushed through the first few rows of clothes to get a closer look, and dropped the wet clothes he was holding when the single shadow in front of him split into three.

They all charged forwards, tackling him through the uniforms and knocking them off of the clothesline and onto Idol, using the loose clotheslines to tangle him up. Idol wrestled himself free but by the time he stood himself up again, the mysterious trio were fleeing over the compound walls with their hands full of clean uniforms. Instinctively, Idol broke into a sprint to chase after them. If he let those uniforms get away there’d be big trouble, especially since they were his responsibility to clean and hang. With his wrestling skills, he was confident that he could easily take out a few goons and get back before anybody noticed he was gone.

“How did thieves even get in here? Isn’t this supposed to be a marine base?”

[mildofthewild]

Some say that excitement is only present for those willing to look for it. So, it's fortunate that this story follows two individuals that crave excitement thoroughly. Even if only one is actively chasing it...

"Yaaaaawn...hmrhrhrm, this is always how it ends up. I've been on this island for weeks and the only thing worth gettin' up in arms about was some low life thugs. What's a marine gotta do to get some justice to dole out." 

Sif's eyes list lazily across the rather small town, having already walked the perimeter of the populated streets about 10 times with nothing to show for it but some meat pies. It was hard work being this bored, and she needed the proper fuel to keep her going, after all!

"Can't believe I didn't even get a discount, I didn't mean to break that much stuff mnch mnch,"

Sif, fully ready to call it and just begin her trek into the outskirts of the island, noticed something that managed to stand out significantly from the dull browns and maroons of the local shops and merchant stalls...

A blazing white, fluttering in the breeze, billowing not unlike the seas roaring behind her. She watches inquisitively as the white seems to soar across the street, pairs of legs carrying what looks like a lot of fresh laundry away. "What's the hurry?" Sif mutters to herself, munching on another meat pie and sullying her own rather dull, faded uniform. "I guess they just really like clean clothes...hm?"

Another pair of feet give chase...another pair of rather strong, sculpted, chore boy feet...

"Oh, Master Idol. Wonder why a chore boy is...out....here...."

The pieces start falling into place, the picture forming but the final image was just a bit hazy. While she would take issue with being called dumb...maybe slow was a better word. The proverbial hamster wheel, however, begins to spin, and soon...

"EH?! M-MASTER IDOL, WAIT UP! YOU, THIEVES, THAT'S OUR UNIFORMS! YOU BETTER NOT HAVE MY UNDERWEAR!"

[York]

"Stop you creeps! In the name of the law!"

These thieves proved to be too familiar with this area, they were able to dip, duck, dive, and dodge through the town’s many alleys with their heads completely obscured in clothing. Trying to keep up will all three was proving to be more burdensome than he would have thought, even with his conditioning. It proved even more difficult when the trio split off into different directions, forcing Idol to commit to chasing only one down and letting the others escape for now.

But the one before him would not escape, not on his watch. In spite of his lack of a proper breakfast and stretching, Idol did a good job chasing the thief down, even beginning to gain on him. Out of the alley they came with a hard turn, with Idol’s pursuit of the big white and navy ball of clothing gathering the attention of a few onlookers who would in turn, alert other onlookers of the sight. It was under the gaze of these observing eyes that Idol could feel his adrenaline pumping, and his motivation to catch the creep being kicked in high gear.

With the distance closing, Idol reached both arms out. He was able to grab one of the shirts surrounding the thief’s head and pull it off. It exposed a flash of blonde hair, but nothing noticeable enough to distinguish them from anybody else. If he could at least get a look at one of them, he could get a physical description to other marines that would be able to keep an eye out on the chance they got away.

As he reached for a pair of pants, Idol’s ears perked up as he heard his name being shouted alongside the word ‘Master’. There was only one person on this island who would put those words together, and Idol could not have been happier to hear their voice again. “Sif?” He asked, turning his head away from his target to look for his good friend.

Had he been paying attention; he would have noticed the small pile of sand piled up directly in his path, and probably wouldn’t have slipped on it and fell head over heels. But he didn't notice in time, and he did in fact slip.

Thankfully, his wrestling training had taught him to recover quickly after a fall, and he was able to roll over from his face to his back into an impressive nip up back to his feet. It was like he never fell over in the first place. But now wasn’t the time to show off or fraternize, there was work to be done.

“Sif, come on! They can’t take the both of us!” he called with a trickle of blood rolling down his forehead. The pile of uniforms disappeared around an alley corner and Idol was quick to pursue them. “Let’s show ‘em what the marines can do!”

[mildofthewild]

She may be slow when it comes to routine, but with wrestling? Sif is quick on the uptake, the young woman giving a sharp salute to her "master" as she rears down low, ready to put on a burst of speed that brings her side by side with Idol. She studies the escapee, eyes narrowing as she looks for a particular weak spot; in all honesty, this is likely just Sif looking for a chance to impress Idol as she lowers herself down to the ground. Her body changes slightly, her uniform straining against the new form that stretches its confines as Sif enacts the power of her Devil Fruit, the Boar Boar Fruit. Tusks jutt from her mouth, her brow furrows into fiery trails that bounce in the wind as she garners the burst she was looking for, her arms now covered in a thick, reddish brown fur as they pound against the ground. She turns to Idol, waving her head slightly, inviting her master aboard her tusks. 

"Get on, Idol, I can get us close!" She shouts, having caught the stumble her master took, but taking special care not to mention it. If there was anything that should be wounded today, it should be the thief running off with their underwear, not her master's pride. Her eyes glow, ready for action, the young woman wishing more than anything to do this alongside her master. 

[York]

Idol rubbed his forehead with his free hand as he followed the perpetrator into the alley. If there were more obstacles in the way, he’d have to be more careful lest one wrong move be the difference between a rescue and a catastrophic failure. But despite his focus and drive to keep the crook in his sights, the sound of fast approaching footsteps from behind him made him slow down to see what was approaching. Was it one of the other criminals looking to get a sneak attack?

He almost jumped out of his boots at the sight of the boar in marine clothes pursuing him, momentarily forgetting about Sif and her extraordinary powers that he already had the privilege of seeing first hand. It would take a while to get used to it.

“Yeah Sif!” Idol cheered, stamping both feet on the ground and jumping onto Sif’s tusks like a surfer catching a wave and patting her head. “We’ll catch them in no time like this!” It was impossible for Idol to keep a smile off of his face as the two charged through the alley in pursuit of the crook. Had he known that leaving his home would lead him to befriending someone like this, he might have done it sooner.

Working together now, the distance between the two marines and the ball of white uniforms on legs was closing. Obstacles clearly set up beforehand were knocked aside easily under Sif's power. Empty barrels and trashcans were sent flying against tthe walls as Idol shielded his face and licked his lips at the thought of the commendations the two might receive from Ensign Leena for the great job they was about to do.

As the clothing crook ran with all of his might, he glanced over his shoulders to see the two marines in pursuit and sighed a defeated sigh. He was already running out of breath outrunning Idol and was not prepared to outrun whatever beast it was that was helping him, especially if his comrades had already escaped. As far as he was concerned, the job was already done. Suddenly, the thief stopped running. Throwing the pile of clothes to the floor, he raised raising both hands in the air.

As Sif got him closer and closer, Idol jumped forward, bringing both knees to his chest and aiming his feet right for the burglar’s torso.

“I surrender!” The thief quickly said. “I’ll go peacefully!”

“Like hell you will!” Idol said, kicking both feet out into the thief’s chest and sending him flying backwards with a Sif assisted torpedo dropkick. The thief rolled over to his back and threw up his hands.

“Hey! I surrendered!” Idol climbed on top of the laundry bandit and began raining punches onto his face. “You can’t do this! I know my rights! Help! Marine brutality!”

“Oh you haven't seen brutality yet!” Idol said transitioning into throwing hard elbows to the dome to shut this criminal up. “I’m gonna learn you what happens when you mess with the marines and their underwear, you creep!”