One Piece: Dress Up
Title: Dress-up
Rating: G/PG
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Nami wanted to believe that it had begun innocently. Sadly, she wasn't Chopper: any naivety she might have had was long ago blasted by three life-times worth of cynicism named Arlong. So as far as she was concerned, no, this wasn't innocent, not at all.
Perhaps that wasn't entirely fair. Things had been moving merrily along until Ussop entered the picture. They'd passed happily through sunshine, storms, and a rain of doorknobs to the next island which, in a sort of inevitable way, had a large and well-prepared marine base. The crew had gone through its usual pre-battle preparations: Zoro took another nap, Sanji made a list of supplies he wanted in the town, Robyn did whatever she did, and the rest of the boys made pests of themselves. They'd dock, pick up some supplies, and flatten the marine base, not necessarily in that order, and then continue on their merry way.
That had been the plan. It was a good plan: it was simple enough that even Luffy could follow through with it; it had a strong history of success; and it accomplished everything it needed to. If anyone ever wrote a book of piratical strategies, they would probably even name it after the Strawhat Pirates; call it the 'Any Bloody Idiot Can Do It Plan' or something. Nami, even if she wasn't a bloody idiot, liked the Plan.
Usopp did not. He felt it lacked adventure, at least after the sixtieth time or so. It lacked pizzazz. Plus, it was getting difficult to write original lyrics about it. What was required, he declared from his dramatic pose in the rigging, was a Plan, capital, italics and all. At the very least, Nami thought in resignation, he hadn't gone to caps-lock. That never boded well, although the shit rarely hit the fan unless bolding was involved.
And since it was Usopp, the very next word after Plan would have been 'coward' if it hadn't looked so bad in verse. 'Disguise' was the first runner-up, and as soon as he started explaining, Nami knew he had been planning this for a long, long time. The boy even had a Zoro-sized suit conveniently stashed in a locker somewhere. For all his claims that "the essence of disguise is to appear to be what you are not" (it sounded like he was reciting directly from a book), when he listed their various transformations, she was completely convinced he was just using this as an opportunity to indulge some weird fantasy.
"It's not enough, Zoro," Usopp snapped. Having donned regal velvet robes and a glittering crown, his nervousness had completely disappeared and he was now completely in charge. "You have to act the part as well." He struck a majestic pose, displaying to all and sundry what true acting looked like.
The first mate tugged at his tie irritable. "Mellorine," he muttered angrily to the chef, who scowled right back at him. Between the pale eye shadow and ruffled skirt - it wasn't Nami's style, but she thought Sanji looked quite fetching in it - the effect was somewhat lost. He'd even been bullied into wearing one of Nami's bras, stuffed with only slightly smelly socks. No one had been able to convince him to shave his legs, but since he was naturally blond, at least he didn't look like he was running off to join Bon Clay's bunch. Petulant scowls and a multitude of swords aside, the cook and the swordsman looked like a lovely couple ready for a day on the town.
"And Sanji, you have to twitter."
"What girl twitters?" Zoro growled, saving them from the sight of Sanji trying to kick the gunner in the head and revealing more of himself than he'd planned. Because Sanji, Nami knew, answered that classic, all-important question with 'neither'.
"Ye do, don't ya, Robin?" Franky laughed, elbowing the woman at his side. Usopp had wanted her to look young, innocent and delicate, the antithesis of her customary tightly-coiled elegance. But even in a peasant girl's dress and kerchief, she looked regal. The clothes at least made her look a bit younger than she normally did, although not much.
Even though they all knew it was an empty threat, Robin's "If you hadn't already managed to sterilize yourself with your stupid experiments, I'd do it for you," was still chilling. Well, she probably didn't mean it. Nami found herself wondering if, after all his modifications, Franky had actually damaged his equipment. Not that she wanted to know. But would a guy consider any improvement (and in Franky's case, 'improvement' meant 'really crazy armament') worth the risk? She wasn't curious, though. Not at all.
"Franky, you... that is... if you want..." Dyeing Chopper's fur white had the interesting side effect of turning him into a pink ball of fur whenever he blushed. "It can probably be fixed..." The white bunny ears he wore ("You're pretending to be one of those evil monster snow rabbits from the Drum Kingdom... I defeated three hundred of them, you know...") quivered in a worried sort of way.
The cyborg let out an undignified yelp. "It ain't broke! I'm fine!" Covering himself protectively was a lot more effective when he was wearing chinos and a closed shirt, as he was now, than in his normal wardrobe. With his hair slicked back, he only needed a hamster to be Iceburg's twin. "Devil woman," he said to Robin. Well, they all knew who wore the pants in that relationship - normally, anyway. Franky just refused to admit it. That man would never lie down - er, back down? - without a fight and a lot of noise.
"Namiiiiiii!!!!" A bolt of black and gold fell out of the rigging and knocked her to the deck. Finally extricating herself from her excited captain, Nami stepped back to check his final transformation. Straw hat safely stowed in the cabin: check. Shorts and vest replaced with a dress: check. Purse so he didn't try to store meat in his borrowed clothes: check. But while Sanji looked like a lady - an extremely pissed off, foul-mouthed lady - Luffy just looked like Luffy-in-a-dress. And the spandex... Nami wouldn't be able to look at that fabric for a long, long time. It stretched and molded around Luffy's own stretchy, moldy figure. A figure that he had, apparently, tried to model off of Nami's own.
What could she say to this? 'My ass isn't that big' might be a good start, and 'How are those staying up?' might be a good follow up. It might be worth pointing out that no woman had a waist that small, but it was kind of embarrassing to point out, especially since he was obviously trying to look like her. And failing, thank god. Even Sanji, who normally went starry-eyed over anything in a skirt, looked slightly put-out.
"At least it stretches," Usopp said weakly. Nami hoped the look on his face was one of horror.
"Today I'm Nami," Luffy announced, oblivious to the expressions on the faces of his crew. "And Nami's me!"
Well, sort of. Luffy wore jean shorts and a straw hat, not knee britches and a cap, but the general shape of the outfit was similar. He never wore a shirt, but Nami wasn't going out without one. And while Luffy could expand to fill her dress, there was nothing in the world that would shrink her to make the vest fit her the way it did Luffy. There was simply no hiding that she was a girl and, as an extra insult, the red of the vest clashed with the strands of hair that had escaped being tucked under her cap. She really didn't want to know what lurid fantasy Usopp had attached to this outfit: at least the others were pretty obvious.
"Chopper, ya wanna come with us to the market?" Franky asked, offering Robin his arm. She accepted it with only a single, enigmatic look, and the three strolled off the ship, talking about shopping. Well, those three seemed comfortable in their ridiculous costumes. So much for help from that quarter. Did no one else recognize that this was just some weird fetish of Usopp's, and not a plan at all? Let along a Plan?
"Nami-san," Sanji twittered, spinning around her, hearts in his eyes. "Let's go into town together! We'll have lunch, and go shopping, and see the sights, and maybe..."
"That's right, Sanji!" Usopp cheered. "That's how you should act." Twisted, that's what this was. She couldn't understand why they were all going along with this. "Come on, Luffy! There's chicken races in the market that I want to see." The pair bounded off, Luffy narrowly missing falling into the bay and ruining her dress - and sinking like a hammer, of course.
Cries of 'Meat!' drifted back to the ship, punctuated by Usopp's exonerations that the chickens were to watch, not eat.
Letting Sanji take her arm - although who was leading whom was anyone's guess - Nami glanced up and met Zoro's gaze. The heat in his eyes had her blushing a pink that clashed with her hair and vest both. Whatever Usopp's weird fantasy was, Zoro apparently shared it. He looped his arm through Sanji's free one and jerked his head towards the town pointedly, a grin the was distinctly un-gentlemanly playing about his lips. Ah. That's right; this was why they'd all gone along with Usopp's weird kink.
Overall, Nami thought as they flattened the marine base some time later, it wasn't a bad modification to the classic Any Bloody Idiot Can Do It Plan.
Rating: G/PG
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Nami wanted to believe that it had begun innocently. Sadly, she wasn't Chopper: any naivety she might have had was long ago blasted by three life-times worth of cynicism named Arlong. So as far as she was concerned, no, this wasn't innocent, not at all.
Perhaps that wasn't entirely fair. Things had been moving merrily along until Ussop entered the picture. They'd passed happily through sunshine, storms, and a rain of doorknobs to the next island which, in a sort of inevitable way, had a large and well-prepared marine base. The crew had gone through its usual pre-battle preparations: Zoro took another nap, Sanji made a list of supplies he wanted in the town, Robyn did whatever she did, and the rest of the boys made pests of themselves. They'd dock, pick up some supplies, and flatten the marine base, not necessarily in that order, and then continue on their merry way.
That had been the plan. It was a good plan: it was simple enough that even Luffy could follow through with it; it had a strong history of success; and it accomplished everything it needed to. If anyone ever wrote a book of piratical strategies, they would probably even name it after the Strawhat Pirates; call it the 'Any Bloody Idiot Can Do It Plan' or something. Nami, even if she wasn't a bloody idiot, liked the Plan.
Usopp did not. He felt it lacked adventure, at least after the sixtieth time or so. It lacked pizzazz. Plus, it was getting difficult to write original lyrics about it. What was required, he declared from his dramatic pose in the rigging, was a Plan, capital, italics and all. At the very least, Nami thought in resignation, he hadn't gone to caps-lock. That never boded well, although the shit rarely hit the fan unless bolding was involved.
And since it was Usopp, the very next word after Plan would have been 'coward' if it hadn't looked so bad in verse. 'Disguise' was the first runner-up, and as soon as he started explaining, Nami knew he had been planning this for a long, long time. The boy even had a Zoro-sized suit conveniently stashed in a locker somewhere. For all his claims that "the essence of disguise is to appear to be what you are not" (it sounded like he was reciting directly from a book), when he listed their various transformations, she was completely convinced he was just using this as an opportunity to indulge some weird fantasy.
"It's not enough, Zoro," Usopp snapped. Having donned regal velvet robes and a glittering crown, his nervousness had completely disappeared and he was now completely in charge. "You have to act the part as well." He struck a majestic pose, displaying to all and sundry what true acting looked like.
The first mate tugged at his tie irritable. "Mellorine," he muttered angrily to the chef, who scowled right back at him. Between the pale eye shadow and ruffled skirt - it wasn't Nami's style, but she thought Sanji looked quite fetching in it - the effect was somewhat lost. He'd even been bullied into wearing one of Nami's bras, stuffed with only slightly smelly socks. No one had been able to convince him to shave his legs, but since he was naturally blond, at least he didn't look like he was running off to join Bon Clay's bunch. Petulant scowls and a multitude of swords aside, the cook and the swordsman looked like a lovely couple ready for a day on the town.
"And Sanji, you have to twitter."
"What girl twitters?" Zoro growled, saving them from the sight of Sanji trying to kick the gunner in the head and revealing more of himself than he'd planned. Because Sanji, Nami knew, answered that classic, all-important question with 'neither'.
"Ye do, don't ya, Robin?" Franky laughed, elbowing the woman at his side. Usopp had wanted her to look young, innocent and delicate, the antithesis of her customary tightly-coiled elegance. But even in a peasant girl's dress and kerchief, she looked regal. The clothes at least made her look a bit younger than she normally did, although not much.
Even though they all knew it was an empty threat, Robin's "If you hadn't already managed to sterilize yourself with your stupid experiments, I'd do it for you," was still chilling. Well, she probably didn't mean it. Nami found herself wondering if, after all his modifications, Franky had actually damaged his equipment. Not that she wanted to know. But would a guy consider any improvement (and in Franky's case, 'improvement' meant 'really crazy armament') worth the risk? She wasn't curious, though. Not at all.
"Franky, you... that is... if you want..." Dyeing Chopper's fur white had the interesting side effect of turning him into a pink ball of fur whenever he blushed. "It can probably be fixed..." The white bunny ears he wore ("You're pretending to be one of those evil monster snow rabbits from the Drum Kingdom... I defeated three hundred of them, you know...") quivered in a worried sort of way.
The cyborg let out an undignified yelp. "It ain't broke! I'm fine!" Covering himself protectively was a lot more effective when he was wearing chinos and a closed shirt, as he was now, than in his normal wardrobe. With his hair slicked back, he only needed a hamster to be Iceburg's twin. "Devil woman," he said to Robin. Well, they all knew who wore the pants in that relationship - normally, anyway. Franky just refused to admit it. That man would never lie down - er, back down? - without a fight and a lot of noise.
"Namiiiiiii!!!!" A bolt of black and gold fell out of the rigging and knocked her to the deck. Finally extricating herself from her excited captain, Nami stepped back to check his final transformation. Straw hat safely stowed in the cabin: check. Shorts and vest replaced with a dress: check. Purse so he didn't try to store meat in his borrowed clothes: check. But while Sanji looked like a lady - an extremely pissed off, foul-mouthed lady - Luffy just looked like Luffy-in-a-dress. And the spandex... Nami wouldn't be able to look at that fabric for a long, long time. It stretched and molded around Luffy's own stretchy, moldy figure. A figure that he had, apparently, tried to model off of Nami's own.
What could she say to this? 'My ass isn't that big' might be a good start, and 'How are those staying up?' might be a good follow up. It might be worth pointing out that no woman had a waist that small, but it was kind of embarrassing to point out, especially since he was obviously trying to look like her. And failing, thank god. Even Sanji, who normally went starry-eyed over anything in a skirt, looked slightly put-out.
"At least it stretches," Usopp said weakly. Nami hoped the look on his face was one of horror.
"Today I'm Nami," Luffy announced, oblivious to the expressions on the faces of his crew. "And Nami's me!"
Well, sort of. Luffy wore jean shorts and a straw hat, not knee britches and a cap, but the general shape of the outfit was similar. He never wore a shirt, but Nami wasn't going out without one. And while Luffy could expand to fill her dress, there was nothing in the world that would shrink her to make the vest fit her the way it did Luffy. There was simply no hiding that she was a girl and, as an extra insult, the red of the vest clashed with the strands of hair that had escaped being tucked under her cap. She really didn't want to know what lurid fantasy Usopp had attached to this outfit: at least the others were pretty obvious.
"Chopper, ya wanna come with us to the market?" Franky asked, offering Robin his arm. She accepted it with only a single, enigmatic look, and the three strolled off the ship, talking about shopping. Well, those three seemed comfortable in their ridiculous costumes. So much for help from that quarter. Did no one else recognize that this was just some weird fetish of Usopp's, and not a plan at all? Let along a Plan?
"Nami-san," Sanji twittered, spinning around her, hearts in his eyes. "Let's go into town together! We'll have lunch, and go shopping, and see the sights, and maybe..."
"That's right, Sanji!" Usopp cheered. "That's how you should act." Twisted, that's what this was. She couldn't understand why they were all going along with this. "Come on, Luffy! There's chicken races in the market that I want to see." The pair bounded off, Luffy narrowly missing falling into the bay and ruining her dress - and sinking like a hammer, of course.
Cries of 'Meat!' drifted back to the ship, punctuated by Usopp's exonerations that the chickens were to watch, not eat.
Letting Sanji take her arm - although who was leading whom was anyone's guess - Nami glanced up and met Zoro's gaze. The heat in his eyes had her blushing a pink that clashed with her hair and vest both. Whatever Usopp's weird fantasy was, Zoro apparently shared it. He looped his arm through Sanji's free one and jerked his head towards the town pointedly, a grin the was distinctly un-gentlemanly playing about his lips. Ah. That's right; this was why they'd all gone along with Usopp's weird kink.
Overall, Nami thought as they flattened the marine base some time later, it wasn't a bad modification to the classic Any Bloody Idiot Can Do It Plan.