Toiling to get us gone / I'm the one you're counting on~ [COMPLETE]
Characters: Ikkaku Madarame, Silvana Crew
Content: At the behest of their first mate, Ikkaku loads the supplies...WITH MUSCLE! Others join in?
Setting: The Silvana, Abantiare Port
Time: Midday
Warnings: Probably none...maybe a little swearing. Maybe.
"Oi, if you're going to take this long to get there, just get out of my way!"
It was hard to tell just what Ikkaku resembled more closely as the young man trudged faithfully up the gangplank of the proud Silvana; a man, or a pack-mule. His footsteps were hard and heavy, so strong that they sent tiny tremors running up the length of the docking platform. His lithely muscled body, bent and arched at the focus of his back, was tensed like iron, his arms straining and his legs flexed to take quick and careful steps forward. Strapped across his bare shoulders, his shirt removed to reveal the light scars and marks dotting his fair skin, were a set of thick ropes, each of them wrapped tightly around three absolutely massive barrels. Each one was easily taller than him, not to mention having enough width and size to hold thirty whole gallons of water. Unyieldingly, Ikkaku held tightly to the ropes in his hands, as if he were toting along a heavy backpack, and strode steadily up into the ship's hold. He was shaking, but kept himself moving forward with a rather grim-looking smile on his face.
Normally, such work would be reserved for the grunts; more appropriately, grunts in an entire team, or with the help of machinery. One barrel easily exceeded two hundred pounds, and Ikkaku was hoisting three at a time. Yet he had his orders: load the ship as quickly as possible, and he deemed that the few dock workers still on the job were taking far too long. The other crew members were doing their best, but it still wasn't quick enough. Time for some progressive motivational techniques.
"C'mon, you lazy jerks! Ivanova says we gotta go, so we gotta GO!" he yelled, trying to get the others going. His voice carried like a gunshot. Instantly, several men sitting around shot up to their feet, their faces as white as a ghost. Everyone already working stopped for a split second; seeing him with such a massive load on his back, many of them stared blankly for a moment, then promptly picked up their pace, shuffling their feet a little faster. They knew that Ikkaku was generally laid-back when it came to ordering people around, but when he became determined to do something, it was best not to argue or, even worse, get in his way.
Ikkaku laughed sharply, seeing the others suddenly become more 'motivated'. "Yeah, you better get moving. We've got a lot left to load!
Beads of sweat clung to his temples, then dripped down and fell away. As he reached the entrance to the hold, he stomped inside, found an empty space along the wall, then turned and set his load down as gently as something so heavy could be. As the ropes were released, Ikkaku stepped away and wiped his forehead, looking a bit tired from the trip. He didn't stop, though. Merely pausing to ladle out a small drink from one of the barrels he had carried, he tossed back his head, slurped down the water, then collected the rope as he started for the dock again.
There were more barrels to be loaded, more crates of food, more kegs of powder, more...of everything. It didn't matter if he was a seated officer or not; Ikkaku was going to get the job done even if his arms fell off in the process.
Content: At the behest of their first mate, Ikkaku loads the supplies...WITH MUSCLE! Others join in?
Setting: The Silvana, Abantiare Port
Time: Midday
Warnings: Probably none...maybe a little swearing. Maybe.
"Oi, if you're going to take this long to get there, just get out of my way!"
It was hard to tell just what Ikkaku resembled more closely as the young man trudged faithfully up the gangplank of the proud Silvana; a man, or a pack-mule. His footsteps were hard and heavy, so strong that they sent tiny tremors running up the length of the docking platform. His lithely muscled body, bent and arched at the focus of his back, was tensed like iron, his arms straining and his legs flexed to take quick and careful steps forward. Strapped across his bare shoulders, his shirt removed to reveal the light scars and marks dotting his fair skin, were a set of thick ropes, each of them wrapped tightly around three absolutely massive barrels. Each one was easily taller than him, not to mention having enough width and size to hold thirty whole gallons of water. Unyieldingly, Ikkaku held tightly to the ropes in his hands, as if he were toting along a heavy backpack, and strode steadily up into the ship's hold. He was shaking, but kept himself moving forward with a rather grim-looking smile on his face.
Normally, such work would be reserved for the grunts; more appropriately, grunts in an entire team, or with the help of machinery. One barrel easily exceeded two hundred pounds, and Ikkaku was hoisting three at a time. Yet he had his orders: load the ship as quickly as possible, and he deemed that the few dock workers still on the job were taking far too long. The other crew members were doing their best, but it still wasn't quick enough. Time for some progressive motivational techniques.
"C'mon, you lazy jerks! Ivanova says we gotta go, so we gotta GO!" he yelled, trying to get the others going. His voice carried like a gunshot. Instantly, several men sitting around shot up to their feet, their faces as white as a ghost. Everyone already working stopped for a split second; seeing him with such a massive load on his back, many of them stared blankly for a moment, then promptly picked up their pace, shuffling their feet a little faster. They knew that Ikkaku was generally laid-back when it came to ordering people around, but when he became determined to do something, it was best not to argue or, even worse, get in his way.
Ikkaku laughed sharply, seeing the others suddenly become more 'motivated'. "Yeah, you better get moving. We've got a lot left to load!
Beads of sweat clung to his temples, then dripped down and fell away. As he reached the entrance to the hold, he stomped inside, found an empty space along the wall, then turned and set his load down as gently as something so heavy could be. As the ropes were released, Ikkaku stepped away and wiped his forehead, looking a bit tired from the trip. He didn't stop, though. Merely pausing to ladle out a small drink from one of the barrels he had carried, he tossed back his head, slurped down the water, then collected the rope as he started for the dock again.
There were more barrels to be loaded, more crates of food, more kegs of powder, more...of everything. It didn't matter if he was a seated officer or not; Ikkaku was going to get the job done even if his arms fell off in the process.