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1Community Service Empty Community Service on Sun Aug 12, 2018 4:11 pm

Misha

Marine
Marine

Misha
~~ Community Service ~~
Voyage
Voyage Location: Sandy Island


Emanuel D. Angelov
"All losses in this world are due to a lack of ability."
Even with it being on such short notice, his punishment was swiftly carried out within the hour of his release. In rather formal fashion, he was escorted from the Marine base by a pair of ensigns and not a word followed their departure. It was a rather lengthy walk. They could've been on patrol, but it definitely carried the aura of teaching a naughty child a lesson.

Emanuel lowered his eyebrows and felt like he had no dignity in this. Well, truth be told, he was inwardly content with this outcome. He had done enough to deserve a lot worse than this punishment. His break-in to the Marine Armory and other offenses would most certainly have warranted expulsion and Impel Down at worst if they had been detected. At least, that is what he thought, but luckily he'd escaped such a fate.

It would've made him feel a bit more at ease though if they had told him where they were going or what he was meant to do, but that seemingly wasn't a part of the memo and left him feeling on the edge. It was an assumption on his part that he would be taken out to do community service of some sort. Nanohana's port had plenty of things worth it that he knew of. However, he had the feeling that the Inspector had something else in mind for him.

And so they walked through the edge of Nanohana's streets on a bright and sunny day. They passed the docks shining on the waterfront and the sandy market stalls with men selling produce via heavy accent and women in their culture's garb. His fingers were clutched into a fist, but he was decidedly relaxed and at ease as they passed them by toward their destination.  


tag → @David /// @[Name Here]

Equipment: The Rotten Skull

Word Count: 000

STRENGTH 1ENDURANCE 0SPEED 2PERCEPTION 2WILLPOWER 2


"Speech Here"

2Community Service Empty Re: Community Service on Wed Aug 15, 2018 12:53 am

David

Marine
Marine

David
With a loud grunt of effort, David slammed the last large piece of wood into place in the depths of the sands that was apart of the harbor. David wore nothing to cover his bare yet muscular chest as he immediately got to work under the waist high water to start hammering into the large pieces of wood to secure the wood to finally finish the harbor. After a few hard months of work, finally Nanohana would be able to receive import and exports. The War of the Twisting Sands had set the town back as the marines had to rush of and face the threat, but finally the marine presence on Alabasta is firm. Even now as David hammered away, the marines were bringing in aid as well as supplies to bring Alabasta up to its normal prowess. Though why David was here instead of Water 7 with the rest of his squadron confused him, but he wouldn't questions his orders here.

Earlier that morning David had gotten word that he would be having another marine to come and help him with the work around the town. A waste of time and men if you asked David. He had more then enough workers from the townsfolk alone, and sending him a marine to help him did very little to add to the workforce. But alas it was to watch over his punishment for something that David didn't exactly completely hear out. He had been to distracted by the newest shipment of lumber that was needed to finish the harbor. Speaking of...

With one final swing of his hammer, the Harbor was fully up and running, the dock going out into the sea bigger and larger then it had been before Oceanus's attack. Now Trade could continue once more in full force. With a nod of his helmeted head, David made his way back onto the beach. He had to meet that marine soon.

3Community Service Empty Re: Community Service on Thu Aug 16, 2018 9:55 pm

Misha

Marine
Marine

Misha
Emanuel D. Angelov
"All losses in this world are due to a lack of ability."
He was more or less in good shape, save for the few injuries he had sustained over the last couple of days. He had gotten roughed up a little bit and the bandits had done a bit of a number on him, but he was okay nevertheless and in fine health. There had certainly been plenty of close-calls and he couldn't help his wandering mind when it drifted backwards, but overall he convinced himself it was great to be alive.

It was a marvelous day in Nanohana. The sun was radiant and particularly quaint to him. Not so many people walked the streets as to crowd passage. There were clotheslines with linens and sheets of all colors unfurled above their heads. The sea breeze was light and hearty, filling the heart with delight.

He abruptly sneezed after taking a deep breath in as they carried along on the sandy way down towards the beach until arriving at the main port where a huge giant seemed to be hard at work carrying large pieces of timber onto the sand and skillfully getting to work crafting with them. He carried himself with poise and stiffened so he stood upright, anticipating something perhaps that was yet to come. The marine in front turned around and spoke. "Allow me to introduce the two of you: This is David. For the first portion of your punishment, you will be helping him out all day for as long as he needs you. You will not leave unless he tells you to."

The man went over and began to speak with the tall giant as if nothing was amiss. Truth be told, Emanuel had to admit to some trepidation about this punishment. What could he possibly do to help out? He couldn't haul huge pieces of lumber like that? Did they expect he had some other role to play in this?

He was bare-chested with a face covered by a mask that gleamed with the overhead sun. It was quite intimidating, even for him. He stood there, eyes floating around and looking towards the port. The man had plenty of helpers it seemed. There were several others who were already there and helping out with whatever project the man was working on. With any luck, he could coordinate the effort or perhaps do the common fetching chores.

That seemed like it was going to be it. Either that or the inspector had thought of something more humiliating than that. Either way, he planned to make the best of whatever he was given. Maybe even would get the chance to have a good time after all. Once prompted, Emanuel walked forth and saluted. "It is a pleasure to meet you sir."


tag → @David /// @[Name Here]

Equipment: The Rotten Skull

Word Count: 000

STRENGTH 1ENDURANCE 0SPEED 2PERCEPTION 2WILLPOWER 2


"Speech Here"

4Community Service Empty Re: Community Service on Sun Aug 26, 2018 7:44 pm

Misha

Marine
Marine

Misha
Emanuel D. Angelov
"All losses in this world are due to a lack of ability."
"Well THAT meeting didn't exactly go well... wasn't exactly a pleasant goodbye either." That thought coursed through Emanuel's head repeatedly, his forehead bulging from stress as he unloaded boxes of cargo onto the docks from a newly-arrived freight ship. After the giant had moved away, Emanuel was escorted down to the docks and put in charge of the labors of the day. The inside of the ship though made even him blanch. The first half on the way down was soiled and unclean with splinters of shattered wood and bits of glass bottles littered all across the floor. Obviously, the cabin boys had gotten drunk on the job, but that wasn't the worst of the issues.

The journey had certainly not been very well-organized or even cleanly... or no one cared enough to make a trip down to make sure everything was in working order.  On top of that, plenty of the cargo had been left out in the open without any implements. Thanks to that, he found himself being especially wary of slipping on the floor that was awash with carcasses from the catch.

He lost track of the time he spent going back and forth, straining both his legs and arms to the breaking point. The stairs going down to the cargo hold creaked worryingly and put a good test on his balance. It was getting all the cargo back to the surface that turned out really exhausting. He would grab one or two boxes, but then as another person came down, they would grab a box or two and place it atop what he was already carrying without a word to him. By the time he was back, he had more than twice what he had picked up.

His lower back and forearms screamed in protest, but he persisted as far as he could go without complaint. His endurance was far from being anything special and now he was being made to regret that. The other carriers snickered as he went back down for another haul. When he came back, he dropped it right back down with the others and had to take a standing breather.

He was tired and sweaty and felt almost depleted when they had only just gotten halfway done. Before he could turn around to head back, someone walked up behind him and promptly placed a large boot on his keister and drove him down to the ground with the force of their body weight. He didn't even get the chance to get back up; he was already pushed down and prone on the ground with his face dug into the sand. Emanuel gritted his teeth and tried to turn around, but the effort increased the force he was under.

"What's wrong runt? You have anything to say now?" He lifted the boot from Emanuel's backside and then placed it on the part of his lower back that was already sore from the effort of lifting heavy cargo. "Don't just lay there! I wanna see some push ups! Get to it!" His voice was gruff and heavy-accented. Emanuel had to guess he was one of the crewmen or another one of the carriers.

He had no choice and did as he was told. His elbows popped. His muscles ached from exertion as beads of sweat fell from his brow and his outfit was drenched and wet from fish slime. He was sticky and the sand stuck to his outfit, making the heat even more unbearable.

When he hit a count of 20, his arms collapsed and yet still the man seemed to enjoy keeping him underfoot. "Very nicely done. I think you've earned a reward." He didn't bother to hide the sarcasm in his voice as he took something in his hand and thrust it in front of Emanuel's face. "It's your initiation. Drink up! You should be thankful that I got you the good stuff."

Feeling agitated, he looked deeply at the dusty mug he had been given. Inside was a clear, colorless liquid that gave off a rather pungent odor. In frustration, he considered tipping it over. He had no idea what this was nor what their intentions were. He also would've relished the idea of spiting his captors, if even just a little bit. But than again, he was also thirsty and his mouth was dry and having something to drink would've been nice.

He took a moment to bring the mug to his lips and down the contents within. Near-instantly, his vision started to swim in front of his eyes and he felt like he was deep underwater. He could detect the sound of laughing, but it was as if his ears weren't working properly and he couldn't distinguish anything going on. The weight suddenly lifted from his back and he got up, staggering. Everything felt fuzzy.

Emanuel tried to head back to the ship to continue his work, but fell down every few steps. It was like no other feeling he had ever had in his life. Whatever they had put into that drink... he just had to hope to god that it wasn't poisonous. When he made it to the ship, he was barely even able to consider himself conscious. More perhaps closer to floating between the stars and the moon. His vision was swimming and his legs were sore. On the deck of the ship, he moved like he was in a dream. Even when he fell down the stairs, he hardly felt the pain, only voicing the pain with a widened smile and weird giggle sound that was uncharacteristic of him before bottoming out and closing his eyes. From there, all sensation ceased and he began to feel like floating. The stinky-sweet smell of fish guts was left behind as nothing but a distant memory far away.

It felt like he was on a small, deserted island in the middle of the ocean, peaking beneath the waves at the dolphins and the large sea turtles from his childhood swimming by without a care in the world. He wished he could go back down there, but when he reached for it, the image of it wouldn't allow him any closer. He dove down into the surf of brain fluid and began to kick his legs eagerly in hopes of seeing the creatures his mother used to take him to.

Suddenly, his images were snapped away from him and he was forced back by the feeling of ice-cold sea water being dumped right onto his face. "Rise and shine! You don't have time to sleep. Your punishment ain't over yet, WE. STILL. HAVE. CARGO!" A bearded man got up close and yelled the statement in Emanuel's face, much to the marine's annoyance as he gritted his teeth. The ice water had a sobering effect on him, though his legs still struggled to get him going in a straight line.

He picked up another box and chugged on as the men behind him continued to snicker and laugh.


tag → @[Name Here] /// @[Name Here]

Equipment: The Rotten Skull

Word Count: 000

STRENGTH 1ENDURANCE 0SPEED 2PERCEPTION 2WILLPOWER 2


"Speech Here"

5Community Service Empty Re: Community Service on Mon Sep 03, 2018 10:25 pm

Misha

Marine
Marine

Misha
Emanuel D. Angelov
"All losses in this world are due to a lack of ability."
When the cargo was all unloaded and they had broken for lunch, it was a little past noon. Compared to how he felt going in though, his spirits were definitely sagging and he wanted to vomit. After recovering from whatever it was they had him drink, they moved on to the next job and his afternoon of misery continued.

He went back to change out of his fish-slimed outfit, but before he had left, the other carriers thought it would be fun to tackle him and make him do more push-ups on the sandy ground. They were assigned to scrub and clean below deck that was littered with all manner of things from fish guts to puke. The fish guts barely bothered him, being half-fish himself, but the smell of rotten stomach upchuck after too much rum wore on his sense of smell pretty heavily. When he was scrubbing up a particularly putrid puddle of puke, the large man from before sauntered over to him while he wasn't looking. He felt someone's hand forcefully grab the back of his skull and then slam his whole face down into the puddle beneath.

Emanuel felt the intense need to vomit himself as the stench and slimy, gut-wrenching feeling were overpowering. He heard laughter in the background as the hand kept his face there and he was gripped by a fit of outright revulsion. He kicked and pushed up with his back and neck, trying just to release himself from the inferior position and he was thankful his mouth hadn't been open. The man didn't budge and whichever one it was had the height advantage and could easily put most of his body weight on a knee pressed up against his back. Blacking out his thoughts, he was slammed back down and began to black out as they denied him the chance to breath.

When he could finally lift his head up, he was being hoisted up by his arms after they had been stomped and kicked. It was a feeling kin to being held like a sack of potatoes. Once again, he had no idea whom was holding him up or where they were taking him. All he felt was the sickly prickling in his chest from having to wipe brown glaze off his forehead and stumble through what was left of the day.

His eyes were lopsided and hazed over as he fell into his bunk for the night. After the incident with the cleaning, the rest of them generally stuck to jeering and laughs instead of continuing to further haze him. Tonight, he was sleeping in a run-down place with the rest of the day-to-day workers instead of the Marine barracks. Upon walking in, he knew right away that it was going to be a terrible night. The place smelled of burnt incense in the guise of passion fruit. It was very scarce on the decor; most of the space on the ground floor of the two-story bunker was occupied by ratty and dusty old beds. Everyone was crowded and packed in there, including him.

A small bag of his things laid at the foot of the old matted and unclean bed, but he was too tired to even worry about the state of it as he fell in and soon his eyes had closed and he was off to sleep.


tag → @[Name Here] /// @[Name Here]

Equipment: The Rotten Skull

Word Count: 000

STRENGTH 1ENDURANCE 0SPEED 2PERCEPTION 2WILLPOWER 2


"Speech Here"


6Community Service Empty Re: Community Service on Fri Sep 07, 2018 8:47 pm

Misha

Marine
Marine

Misha
Emanuel D. Angelov
"All losses in this world are due to a lack of ability."
It seemed so short. His eyes closed and he went limp on the bed, falling asleep despite the smell of dust and sand littering the uncomfortable mattress. Than, he was snapped back into reality when a heavy object suddenly jumped up and bounced on his back like a trampoline. The sensation made him chuck up saliva and he almost wanted to throw up. It was as heavy as a rock, but seemed intent on wrapping its legs around his arms and then placing his feet behind his neck. The result was a boa-constrictor hold and the individual didn't let up on the force as they bent him backwards amid giggles and cheers.

"G-Give... I give..." he uttered out weakly while the offending limbs kept on pulling until his spine was bent upwards and almost ready to break in half. More giggling ensued and the pressure didn't abate. His vision remained hazy and it felt as if his muscles were refusing to listen to his sleep-deprived mind. After a moment of continuing torture, he started to get agitated and through his weight to the left, making the tormentor work for it. He pulled his arms forward and then tried just to get into a sitting position.

The figure wasn't letting him go without a fight and so he was forced to exert himself to get some leverage before leaning back and body slamming them into the mattress. He heard a loud crash and a cry of pain from what he guessed was their skull hitting the footboard of the bed. The pressure was instantly taken off and released as Emanuel crashed and fell forward with bloodshot eyes with shrieks of pain from his assailant.

He was dizzy and disoriented, but gradually managed to regain himself before the attacker had righted themselves and turned back. In the dark, he barely had any view of the individual, but his anger had already taken over. In a fit of anger and sleep-deprivation, he grabbed them by the neck and slammed them against the bed once. The resulting clang evoked more cries of pain and Emanuel kicked them off his bed before laying back down on the bed and blotting out the world around him. With covers back around his neck, he fell asleep and hoped that his actions had been sufficient deterrence to anyone who would try to wake him.

Once they had recovered their friend, the young ones hauled them back toward the shadows, massaging their injuries while eyeing the offending Marine with an affixed, low-browed glare.


tag → @[Name Here] /// @[Name Here]

Equipment: The Rotten Skull

Word Count: 000

STRENGTH 1ENDURANCE 0SPEED 2PERCEPTION 2WILLPOWER 2


"Speech Here"

7Community Service Empty Re: Community Service on Tue Sep 11, 2018 9:43 pm

Misha

Marine
Marine

Misha
Emanuel D. Angelov
"All losses in this world are due to a lack of ability."
He was left un-bothered for the rest of the night, sleeping soundly in his sandy, dusty cot. The rest of the residents hadn't even stirred or even bothered to check out the ruckus. When the sun rose, he was awoken by the loud clapping of pots and pans. "Rise and shine you kumquats. Rise and shine! Gram' wants you up and about for breakfast! It's cleaning and laundry day!"

Emanuel arose with bags around his eyes and he had to snap his back after sleeping on the rough mattress. His neck cracked along, yet it still bothered him. After yesterday's disaster, he felt weary of whatever the day had in store for him and it didn't help that breakfast was literally tasteless gruel that didn't satisfy him at all. Washing his face after breakfast did a bit to raise his morale somewhat. It was comforting to know that at least he wouldn't be unloading cargo ships at the very least so perhaps he could avoid coming in contact with any of the ruffians by the docks. That was some consolation and before he knew it, he was dressed and grabbing a mop and bucket filled with clean water and a rag. Donning a white apron and tying a piece of fabric over his head, Emanuel went to work.

He started scrubbing the floor on the second level of the bunker in the storage closet where most of the residents kept their personal items of significance. Though not very large, the room was large enough that he decided to take his time with it. With the mop in hand, he began to meticulously clean the floor. There were not windows inside, but he could hear the others far below handling the laundry. It smelled musty and dank as could be. The dust was so heavy and prevalent he pushed up a cloud and started a sneezing and coughing fit. Once he managed to sort himself out, he gazed across rows of small bags and other miscellaneous items scattered into one corner.

He didn't bother taking a further look at them, the thought barely crossing his mind. They looked so dusty and plain that he decided off-hand that nothing inside could be worth him getting into more trouble than he was already in. Lately, he'd been pushing his luck alot so it was probably better not to risk getting into more trouble for some peasant valuables. Plus, there were some pretty irascible figures bunkered down here. If one of them even suspected that something from their bag was gone, it could very well be traced back to him.

Brushing off the chills from his shoulders, Emanuel got back to work, focusing entirely on his task. After a few minutes in silence, he had almost finished the job halfway when something suddenly jumped up and latched onto his back with their knees pressed against his lower back. Their body dragged him backwards and drove his spine into their knees. His back flared up and he made a loud gasping noise "GUUUHHHHH!!!"

Rolling off onto the floor, he felt like his spine was on fire. Meanwhile, the young boy jumped back to his feet and ran down the hallway while cackling like a little bastard hyena. "Hah! That's what you get for hurting Ame! Serves you right!!" For a minute, Emanuel just laid on the ground, trying to get up before deciding not to pursue him down to the next level.

All he could think of was pounding his head on the floor from grief. Once the pain was manageable after a minute or so, he stood and cracked his back with a deepened sigh before picking up the mop from where he had dropped it and getting back to work. He would just have to suck it up for the time-being. This punishment couldn't possibly last forever.


tag → @[Name Here] /// @[Name Here]

Equipment: The Rotten Skull

Word Count: 000

STRENGTH 1ENDURANCE 0SPEED 2PERCEPTION 2WILLPOWER 2


"Speech Here"

8Community Service Empty Re: Community Service on Sun Sep 23, 2018 10:48 pm

Misha

Marine
Marine

Misha
Emanuel D. Angelov
"All losses in this world are due to a lack of ability."
Once all the cleaning of the storage room was finished and most of the dust and debris were gone, Emanuel felt quite proud of himself. It had taken him roughly an hour-and-a-half to have the entire room cleaned and his memory of that entire time was little more than a blur as he committed himself completely to the task. Disregarding the brutal interruption halfway through, he was pleased and cracked a few muscle areas that were still sore from being hunched over so much.

It was perfectly timed as well since lunch was also about to be served soon. Nothing he was likely to enjoy, but having anything in his stomach was better than serving out the rest of the day without any food. Even if he had to continue to deal with whatever those brats had in store for him. Waking him up in the dead of night and then sneaking up on him unawares... they were just begging him for trouble. Emanuel clicked his teeth as he thought to himself in silence before heading down the stairs.

When he arrived, the table had already been set and his seat was readied again with his lunch. It was little more than a few scraps of bread and some over-cooked vegetable soup, but he tuckered in upon sitting down at the table. Emanuel put the food in his mouth and began to chew on the carrots when he saw the adolescents on the opposite side of the table start to giggle and face away from him.

All of a sudden as he was thinking, his tongue was assaulted by an incredibly bitter sensation. He coughed up the food, but the liquid sent him sputtering and hacking. Herbs. They had dumped a whole bunch of powerful herbs in his soup. Some of the spill got on his lap as he tried to calm the spasms in his throat. The world blanked out around him, but he could hear laughter while coughing and gagging.

It was a while before he was able to speak again. His tongue was inflamed and red and his nostrils, cheeks, and forehead were a bright crimson red. After the last fit passed, Emanuel snarled from the floor at the perpetrators, still giggling and mocking him with glee. In that moment, he was absolutely enraged and acted out in haste. His fingers grabbed the bowl and then chucked it across the room at the boy whom had grabbed him earlier.

The soupy mess flew right on track, smacking on the boy's face hard with a loud clanging 'thud'.


tag → @[Name Here] /// @[Name Here]

Equipment: The Rotten Skull

Word Count: 000

STRENGTH 1ENDURANCE 0SPEED 2PERCEPTION 2WILLPOWER 2


"Speech Here"

9Community Service Empty Re: Community Service on Thu Oct 04, 2018 11:07 pm

Misha

Marine
Marine

Misha
Emanuel D. Angelov
"All losses in this world are due to a lack of ability."
All the residents in the dining hall went into a tense silence as Emanuel gripped the chair to pull himself up. His color returned somewhat, though still a little ragged around the edges. "Serves you right! Make sure you clean that plate up real good afterwards! Don't want anyone else tasting that shit."

The boy grit his teeth and pulled the stickied-up plate with a mean-faced growl and scowl. "Hahah! Easy there little imp. You know what they always say about payback; consider that your recompense." Emanuel smirked as he gloated, making the boy's features widen up even more from building fury that exploded all of a sudden when he picked up his own plate and tossed it like a saucer straight at Emanuel's head.

Likewise, Emanuel saw the hand motion and quickly ducked down just in time to watch it fly over and slam into the wall, making a loud shattering 'crack' and then flying off in pieces. The young boy didn't stop there and began to fly off in a rage. Emanuel reacted instantly, jumping away from the table and hurrying off into the next room with his pursuer hot on his trail.

Bursting out the door, he didn't wait to hear the sound of falling footsteps coming from the manager. He wasn't very eager for today's job either way, but it wasn't likely that he'd get very much to sway her to his side. Better to hurry off to the rest of their jobs for the day, he thought. After cleaning the storage room and lunch, his formal duty for the day was community service. He might not hear the end of it tonight, but right now he would be happy actually to get out of there.

Hurrying through the streets, Emanuel didn't need long to lose the rascal in the crowd. Knowing the rest of them though, he would need to be careful in case they threw tacks in his bed or took all the stuff he had in his knapsack and hid it or threw it in the ocean. Luckily, he hadn't brought anything of value with him that he could think of.

With a sigh, Emanuel found himself walking on a crowded road through the streets of Nanohana, thinking this was going to be a very long day indeed.


tag → @[Name Here] /// @[Name Here]

Equipment: The Rotten Skull

Word Count: 000

STRENGTH 1ENDURANCE 0SPEED 2PERCEPTION 2WILLPOWER 2


"Speech Here"

10Community Service Empty Re: Community Service on Thu Oct 04, 2018 11:37 pm

Misha

Marine
Marine

Misha
Emanuel D. Angelov
"All losses in this world are due to a lack of ability."
Once he'd cooled down and had gotten into a brisk pace, Emanuel walked with a steady gait. He was somewhere near the center of town in Nanohana, close to the bakery he would be helping out at. Nanohana had a rich culture of sweet treats and most places sold some very interesting things that he hadn't had the chance to see at all during his time here. Of course, he was told quite well that today would be a scorcher; the sun was beating down hard and that would make working in a bakery particularly excruciating.

However, he had agreed to it, seeing as he was hoping that it would be a better alternative than hauling in fishy cargo and risk getting hazed by the foremen and loaders on the docks. Even after having had time to recover, he hadn't actually had time to clean himself up completely after that experience. It dribbled in his mind as he walked up the sandy streets, not giving too much thought to the surroundings except for his directions.

It was a small bakery, set amidst a row of houses and other buildings. It didn't stand out on it's own; the decorations were nothing more than a worn wooden sign and a tent above to shade from the worst of the heat. What drew him in though was a welcoming and radiant smell wafting off the inside from where the domed ovens churned out warm, sweet, and even savory varieties of a delicious flatbread that drew a crowd, even at this time in the day.

Before even entering, he put on an apron that was handed out to him, though it made him sweat even more than he already was from the walk over. Once he was all set, he stood behind the ovens, preparing his hands as he looked down into the charcoal oven where the bread was made to stick against a cylindrical wall and bake before being pulled out with hot tongs. The dough, after being cooked, was loaded with all kinds of things, from being caked with powdered sugar to even being filled with a whole variety of cheeses.

He had been quickly shown the ropes, but even then he was forced to sigh and steel himself. It was after noon and the heat from above was already exhausting, let alone forcing himself to stand in front of an oven where he was sweating enough to cake his apron. On the bright side though....

"Well done Emanuel! You're learning quickly." The praise came from one of the staff up front, in a cheery and upbeat voice, making him smile and perk up, despite the heat. Everyone here was far more welcoming than the docks. They encouraged him onward, despite the demands of the heat and the continued pace as the day wore on.


tag → @[Name Here] /// @[Name Here]

Note: I'm taking inspiration by having them use a tandoori oven and making something like Naan Bread XDD

Equipment: The Rotten Skull

Word Count: 000

STRENGTH 1ENDURANCE 0SPEED 2PERCEPTION 2WILLPOWER 2


"Speech Here"

11Community Service Empty Re: Community Service on Sun Oct 07, 2018 12:05 pm

Misha

Marine
Marine

Misha
Emanuel D. Angelov
"All losses in this world are due to a lack of ability."
By dusk, he was completely worn out and his clothes and apron were caked to the core with sweat. After shutting down all the ovens and closing up shop, he found himself close to limping every other step as his legs were sore from both standing still by the oven and then having to run out to get more powdered sugar and cheese from several blocks over.

He was a disheveled hot mess with his face flustered and red as a ripened cherry. Slowly making his way back to the bunker, Emanuel couldn't help but start to wonder in his thoughts. He started to take note of some buildings and admire the architecture. "They really do have some really nice places here..."

When he arrived back at the in-house, the sun had fallen down and he was absolutely ready for bed. Everything was quiet and he suspected that everyone had turned in so he felt safe just going straight for his sack and passing right out. After placing his sweat-drenched shirt in his own growing pile of dirty laundry, he lankly moved through the dark, turned about and fell backwards with the expected 'thunk' sound of the rickety wooden bed.

"OWWWWWW!" As soon as his back hit the board, he let out a loud cry of pain as something close to about a dozen tiny pins and needles pierced in his back. He jumped up, but that only spread the tiny nails to the floor, making him step on them. The ones he had laid on stayed lodged in his back as he tried in the dark to brush them off. The pain became worse the more he tried to move. He heard laughter behind him, but he was too much of a frenzy to even care or deal with them now. "You little fucking bastards can go STRAIGHT TO HELLL!"

Emanuel rushed for the door and headed outside. Not stopping for a moment, the young marine went as far as he could go until it was quiet again. He didn't know where he was, only that it was a few blocks away. It was a small building that had a creaking, open door and the inside looked like it was hospitable enough, albeit he couldn't see much of it.

Slowly, one by one, he picked off all the tacks that were lodged in his back. There was some blood and he was certain he out to look for a cloth or something before they became infected, but he honestly didn't care enough to do that. After finding a small comfortable corner, Emanuel curled up and tried to sleep.


tag → @[Name Here] /// @[Name Here]

Equipment: The Rotten Skull

Word Count: 000

STRENGTH 1ENDURANCE 0SPEED 2PERCEPTION 2WILLPOWER 2


"Speech Here"

12Community Service Empty Re: Community Service on Mon Oct 08, 2018 12:38 am

Misha

Marine
Marine

Misha
Emanuel D. Angelov
"All losses in this world are due to a lack of ability."
The night air hardly let him get to sleep. Even curled up in fetal position, he was shivering without a shirt on as the cold winds from the sea blew in. After a little while, he was forced to get up and look for a blanket or anything that could give even a little comfort. After stumbling around in the dark for a while, he came across an old musty tarp that would serve okay after he managed to clear it of the few spiders on it.

With bleary eyes, he took the cover and then laid back up against the wall and was finally able to close his eyes. Time passed and though it wasn't a very great sleep, the pain from the tacks started to dull slightly along with the soreness in his back and legs. Even then, he was tossing and turning throughout the night.

At the first break of dawn, his eyes opened wearily and hazy. A moment passed before he managed to become fully aware again and let out a rather wide yawn. He started to kick at the covers, but once his eyes focused, he realized and saw a large blotched spider sitting on his leg. Now, Emanuel had never been afraid of spiders, but seeing one all of a sudden on his blanket startled him and he immediately sprung awake.

Emanuel reflexively kicked the large spider and at the last second, he felt the limb suddenly grow sludge. The spider was sent packing into the air and slobbered in a brown mud-like sludge until it hit the wall with a satisfying 'splat' sound. "That... wasn't supposed to happen." Emanuel grew wide-eyed as he waved the sludge-covered limb back and forth like it was some amazing curiosity. "Guess I know now what that Devil Fruit I ate does now. Mud powers... hmmm. I'll have to try this out sometime. This could come in handy... wish I'd known how it worked when those little bastards filled my bed with tacks."

Musing to himself, Emanuel had to focus in order to turn off the power and stop his foot from oozing. The puncture wounds on his back were impossible for him to reach and sadly, he thought he would have to risk infection. He could reach some of them with his arms, but he had no mirror and he wouldn't be surprised if he got pepper-sprayed if he decided to return to the bunkhouse.

The thought and seeing the sludge on the wall suddenly gave him an idea though. Emanuel had to focus intently, but soon he started to feel sludge cover the holes in his back. It washed over the wounds and hopefully had done something to repair them. With a deep breath, he shook the faded brown tarp of dust before wrapping it around his torso. It was light and served well enough for a shawl.

After he was ready, he set off to find breakfast for the morning.


tag → @[Name Here] /// @[Name Here]

Equipment: The Rotten Skull

Word Count: 000

STRENGTH 1ENDURANCE 0SPEED 2PERCEPTION 2WILLPOWER 2


"Speech Here"

13Community Service Empty Re: Community Service on Mon Oct 08, 2018 5:39 pm

Misha

Marine
Marine

Misha
Emanuel D. Angelov
"All losses in this world are due to a lack of ability."
"(sigh) At least I'll have a full meal for the day...." He sat in the bakery he had worked in the previous day, eating a large helping of bread that had been baked and covered in sugar and filled with cheese. He had no money on him, having remembered halfway down the street from where he'd slept that the meager amount of money he had taken was in his shirt back at the bunkhouse.

So, without any way of paying for it, he was forced to ask for a handout and no other place he could think of was better-suited, plus he had managed to move some goodwill. Saved him a bit of trouble of explaining the entire situation with the brats back at the bunkhouse and why he was now wearing a weird matted tarp over his bare skin. It was itchy as hell and he was frequently having to scratch underneath when he felt pin-prickled.

With the bread, it was filling and made a modest breakfast, which was more than pleasing because he was feeling downright miserable. Even after discovering the effects of the fruit, it felt like he was really taking a lot of punishment for his deeds. Karma must've had it in for him because after he'd had it up to the top with the brats inhabiting the bunkhouse. If he wasn't a marine and sworn to uphold a code, he would've very well contemplated some 'unfortunate' events happening to the little maggots.

In his mind, he contemplated heading back and grabbing his things, but he wasn't really all that set on confronting them and risking his reputation beating them up. He was in enough trouble as is and it still took it out of him to restrain himself from causing more.

After finishing off the rest of his bread, he hopped off and started walking down the block. This time, instead of roasting by an oven in a bakery, he was now relegated to the one thing he had dreaded for the past several days: trash collector. The day wasn't about to get any better.

And so he went, walking through the streets of Nanohana picking up trash. Luckily, he hadn't thrown off his shoes after reaching the bunkhouse so he was able to get around with little trouble. The job was laboring and tiresome; the sun started to beat down hard in the afternoon and the itching from the tarp didn't make it any better.


tag → @[Name Here] /// @[Name Here]

Equipment: The Rotten Skull

Word Count: 000

STRENGTH 1ENDURANCE 0SPEED 2PERCEPTION 2WILLPOWER 2


"Speech Here"

14Community Service Empty Re: Community Service on Mon Oct 08, 2018 6:03 pm

Misha

Marine
Marine

Misha
Emanuel D. Angelov
"All losses in this world are due to a lack of ability."
There was no use in thinking about it.. he just had to work hard and get through it so he could be back in the good graces of the marines. Several hours passed by with Emanuel just walking and stabbing pieces of trash as he went before dropping them in a bag. It was boring, monotonous, and he hated how some of the locals liked to just drop things at his feet so he would pick them up. From the back alleys to the docks, by near-sunset he felt like he had walked the entirety of Nanohana.

Still, he kept the pace and only after a while had to get some water. He was almost finished and it was almost dusk when he glimpsed several young men running down the street with several silhouettes chasing after them and shouting profanities. The silhouettes were obviously far older and not as physically fit as the younger and more lithe ones, but something looked odd. One of them was limping and seemed to have a tough time keeping up.

They fled into the back alley between some old houses and the pursuers continued to give chase. Emanuel's brows furrowed and his head dropped lower. It looked like just another case of street rats stealing from shop owners, but for some reason he was curious. Placing his stuff in the corner by a building, Emanuel followed into the back alley, breaking out into a jog.


tag → @[Name Here] /// @[Name Here]

Equipment: The Rotten Skull

Word Count: 000

STRENGTH 1ENDURANCE 0SPEED 2PERCEPTION 2WILLPOWER 2


"Speech Here"

15Community Service Empty Re: Community Service on Tue Oct 09, 2018 9:08 pm

Misha

Marine
Marine

Misha
Emanuel D. Angelov
"All losses in this world are due to a lack of ability."
The young men continued to flee far into back alley, away from their pursuers as fast as their feet could carry them. The one behind them was limping with a bent kneecap and it wasn't long before he faltered and fell. Yet, they still kept moving out of high-pitched rush of fear and adrenaline. Soon, they came to a dead end and there was nowhere left to hide. Their assailants closing in steadily, angrily, and with a taunting stride.

The younger men began to cower before the attackers started their beating. One of them was grabbed by the throat and then chokeslamed onto the ground. The rest were pinned and the men quickly got to work punishing the thieves for their theft.

Emanuel, standing behind them saw both the thieves and the men in their truest form and couldn't help a small smirk that popped up on his lips. It was quite fitting to find them here getting beaten up by the same people who had given him such heck. The dock workers punched the young men from the bunkhouse without mercy and the boy that Emanuel had thrown his breakfast at had gotten chokeslamed and looked to be unresponsive. He'd be lying to himself if he didn't think once about leaving them to suffer their just desserts, but his smile receded soon after appearing and his eyes seemed to glaze over in decision mode.

The young Marine moved in quickly once he caught his breath and then ushered into the fray, delivering a jumping kick to the head of one of the dockworkers. He was especially carefully to ensure it was the one man who had shoved his face in the vomit and didn't hold back to ensure that the full force of his boot slammed into the man's temples for maximum chance of rather significant injury. Emanuel would only be too pleased with himself if he gave the man a minor concussion.

They rounded on him in surprise, but now it was his turn to pay them back for the hazing. He began ruthlessly kicking all of them, losing track of everything except the rabid fury of his drumming feet against their sturdy hides. He was nowhere near as big or as strong as they were, but he also didn't mind taking low-blows. He went for their weak points and groins. The beating was maybe even more merciless than the one the men had been inflicting upon the thieves. He even forgot about the young boys entirely; the kicking became entirely personal.

"This one is for teasing me!" He said with a firm stomp. "And this one is for shoving my face in the vomit!" Emanuel spewed with a vicious overhead axe-kick to the man's downed face. "And this one is for being complete assholes!" He delivered one more swift deliverance of vicious justice before he stood atop their unconscious forms, down and completely out cold.


tag → @[Name Here] /// @[Name Here]

Equipment: The Rotten Skull

Word Count: 000

STRENGTH 1ENDURANCE 0SPEED 2PERCEPTION 2WILLPOWER 2


"Speech Here"

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