New Party Member

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the polished deck of the pink heart bedecked skiff as it cut gently through the waves.

At the starboard-side table, a bottle of rum between us, Alvida sat fully nude in a casual slouch, legs crossed, one arm hanging off the chair and the other sweeping through the air with her words. Her smooth skin shimmered in the sun, and her generous, heavy breasts rested naturally against her chest, only moving when she breathed or more recently, when I said a pair of words.

Across from her, I leaned back in my seat, with a lazy grin. I picked up the bottle and took a swig while pretending to listen as Alvida launched into yet another exaggerated retelling of a raid I’d heard about three times already (though this was the first time from the captain herself).

“So there we are, see,” she said, smirking like a devil with lipstick. “The wind’s howlin’, our ship’s all torn up, and there’s this fat bastard from the Barrel Hat crew screamin’ at us from the main mast like he’s already won. I look at my second mate, who’s pissin’ himself, and I say, ‘Get my mace.’”

“Shaky-shaky,” I said with a grin, taking a sip of my drink.

Automatically, Alvida rolled her shoulders and twisted at the waist, sending her massive tits swaying side to side like pendulums. She didn’t even seem to notice she’d done it.

I definitely did.

“So I climb up the anchor chain, naked, of course,” she said with a wicked grin, flashing me a sultry look like that detail alone should’ve made my cock stand up.

I kept a straight face… barely.

Because back then, Alvida hadn’t been the gleaming goddess before me now, she’d been the grotesque, morbidly obese tyrant of legend. Thick with sweat, barked orders, and smug self-delusion. The image of her clambering up an anchor chain nude had me fighting back a shiver.

Thankfully, I knew for a fact she would have been wearing clothes. A lot of them. Layers. Thank every god.

And yet… those poor bastards…

I took another slow sip of the bottle, my eyes drifting out over the waves, thinking of the unlucky men who’d crewed under Alvida before I came along. Because thanks to the Normality I’d laid down weeks ago;Alvida never wears clothes while at sea, those poor bastards didn’t just remember her being there during that raid…

They remembered her being naked.

Naked, and charging headlong up that anchor chain.

Naked, and screaming like a demon while every roll of flesh bounced with rage.

Naked, and somehow proud of it, swinging a mace in one hand and her bloated stomach in the other, like some obscene banner of war.

I could only imagine the trauma.

And now, thanks to Normality’s warping influence, those memories had been rewritten. Every one of her former crew who’d survived the fight would swear on their rum-stained souls that Alvida, as she was back then, had led that charge completely nude.

I almost laughed out loud at the thought. Instead, I tipped my ridiculous red top hat and murmured under my breath:

“To the real victims.”

“Hmm?” Alvida looked up, mid-swig of rum, her hair tumbling down her bare back. She caught my eye and gave another smug little smirk. “You’re picturing it, aren’t you?”

I tilted my head. “You have no idea.”

She grinned wider, clearly mistaking the glint in my eye for arousal, not barely-contained pity. “Yeah, I thought so.”

I grabbed the bottle to take another sip and muttered just loud enough for myself.

“Shaky-shaky.”

And once again, like clockwork, her chest rippled in response, two golden, gravity-defying reminders of how far things had come… and how much behavior could be reshaped with just a few well-placed words.

I smiled to myself.

“Shaky-shaky.”

She did it again with her shoulders back a and twist at the waist, boobs bouncing once more before settling.

I stared, utterly content.

Alvida continued her story. She still hadn’t quite caught on that she was shaking her tits at command now. Not consciously. Just part of the shipboard rhythm now.

I took another swig. This moment was good. Comfortable.

Then, the shriek came.

“GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU OVERGROWN SEAFOOD PLATTER!”

Both of us blinked and turned our heads toward the sound. Off the side of the skiff, bobbing in the ocean, was a tiny makeshift raft. Standing on it was a floating figure in a captain’s coat, frantically kicking at an enormous crab climbing up the side.

“Is that a kid?” I squinted uncertainly.

“I don’t think kids typically wear clown shoes,” Alvida drawled, leaning forward to watch the spectacle unfold.

“I’ll handle it,” I declared confidently, raising the pistol. I aimed at the giant crab, steadied myself like Alvida had taught, and pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The shot went wide, splintering empty wood and prompting a disgusted sigh from Alvida.

“Oh, for the love of-” she snapped, snatching the pistol out of my grip with an irritated flick of her wrist. Without hesitation, she leveled the weapon, fired, and watched with smug satisfaction as the bullet punched neatly through the crab’s shell. The creature spasmed dramatically before slipping back into the sea.

“HEY! WATCH THE RAFT!” The clown-shoed figure shrieked angrily, pointing accusingly at the splintered boards rapidly coming apart beneath him. “YOU IDIOTS ARE GONNA DROWN ME!”

A wave rose and flipped the whole thing, sending the occupant toppling into the sea with a hoot of alarm. “CAN’T SWIM, DAMN IT! CAN’T-GURGLE- CAN’T…!”

Alvida briskly moved toward the wheel, steering them sharply toward the rapidly sinking raft.

She rolled her eyes. “Useless. Get him, would you?”

I grunted and kicked off my boots. “Yeah, yeah…”

I dove cleanly into the water, disappearing in a flash of spray. Moments later, I resurfaced, dragging something round and brightly colored toward the boat. A mess of blue hair and a red nose emerged first, followed by the rest.

A few moments later, sputtering and cursing, I hauled myself up the side of the boat, tossing my squirming catch onto the deck first. I flopped down next to it, dripping wet and scowling, seawater running down my face and chest.

“Alright… you okay, kid?”

“KID!?” the clown roared indignantly, straightening up or rather, hovering upright. It was only then that I noticed there was something distinctly wrong: the clown was nothing more than a head mounted atop oversized clown shoes, with two floating white gloves gesturing angrily beside it. A bright red nose dominated the painted face, below a captain’s hat and wild blue hair. “WHO YOU CALLING A KID, YOU FLASHY NOBODY? I AM BUGGY THE CLOWN!”

“Buggy?” Alvida mused, stepping over slowly, completely indifferent to her nakedness. She regarded the floating, disembodied head with mild amusement. “Of the Buggy Pirates?”

“THE ONE AND ONLY!” Buggy yelled, chest puffed out or rather, the empty space beneath his floating head seemed to puff.

Buggy’s head craned up, and the second he got a full view of Alvida, glorious, nude, proud, his nose erupted in a geyser of blood, and his head shot five feet into the air.

“FLASHY SWEET MARINES- PUT SOMETHING ON!”

Alvida didn’t even flinch. “No.”

I caught him by the hair before he bounced off the side.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” I said, dropping him back down.

Buggy wobbled in place, dizzy from the shock. “Fine, fine! Thanks for saving my life or whatever!”

He shook his head clear, then gave Alvida another wide-eyed once-over, this time with less panic and more intrigue. “You’re Goan, huh?”

Alvida raised a brow with a pleased tilt to her lip, “Oh?”

“Only Goan nobles strut around in the buff like it's a birthright. You lot act like clothing's an insult.”

Alvida rolled her shoulders, completely at ease, her full breasts swaying gently with the motion. “But I ain’t Goan, not some garden party baroness. I’m a pirate queen, and if I don’t want to wear clothes, then why the hell should I?”

Buggy blinked, then gave a clownish grin.

“Now that’s the kind of nobility I can get behind.”

I interjected before these two got lost in praising themselves. “You’re miles from anywhere. What happened? How’d you end up on a floating door with a crab trying to wear your face? And I’m pretty sure there’s supposed to be more of you.”

Buggy groaned dramatically. “Oh, it’s a whole saga. Orange Town was my glory stage! I had the crowd, the shows, the painted tits... I was the culture! And then these three brats show up; rubber boy, sword freak, and some fire-crotched pickpocket, and next thing I know, my own fans are tying up my body and mailing my head to the sea!”

“Your own fans?” I asked, amused.

“Not the good ones! The traditionalists! Anti-circus prudes!”

Buggy bobbed indignantly in the air, his gloved hands waving for emphasis as he ranted.

“-they don’t appreciate full-frontal clowning! They think comedy should have less flash! They started calling me a ‘bad influence!’ Me! I built that town into a circus-state! They used to throw pies at weddings!”

I leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Hold up wait. So all that stuff about Orange Town? The crowds, the shows, the clown-paint tits... you remember that like it’s always been true?”

Buggy nodded vigorously. “Of course I do! It was my town! I was basically their Celestial Dragon only sexier and with better hats!”

My grin widened as my brain lit up with a dozen thoughts at once. He wasn’t even there. And it still got him. It worked. It really worked-

THUNK.

Alvida elbowed me hard in the ribs, not even looking up from her drink.

“Stay focused, genius.”

I blinked, rubbed my side, and sat up straighter, trying to suppress my excitement.

Buggy just watched this interplay, turning around in a slow hover then stopped short as his gaze landed square on my outfit. His head tilted. His eyes narrowed.

Red tailcoat. Top hat. Gold trim. And then, unmistakably, the oversized, zipper-lined bulge sewn prominently down the front of my pants like a parade float’s secret compartment.

Buggy pointed with both hands.

“Okay, what the hell is that?!”

I blinked. “What?”

“That getup!” Buggy cackled, spinning midair to get a better view. “You look like someone left a Ringmaster in a sex shop overnight! That’s gotta be a joke, right? That can’t be your real bulge!”

Alvida stepped in.

“It’s not a joke, clown.”

Buggy snorted. “No way. That’s not real. That’s one of those foam party pranks. Wait…” His face lit up with revelation. “You’re from Orange Town, aren’t you?! That explains it! Only someone from my cultural revolution would walk around like that.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but Alvida cut in first, expression flat and voice cool.

“He’s Iron Cock Tsujo. And yes. It’s real.”

Buggy stopped laughing. Blinking. “Wait- what?”

“You heard me,” Alvida said, narrowing her eyes. “I picked his outfit myself. Had the pants tailored to keep the beast contained. And the zipper’s there for quick deployment.”

I cleared my throat. “I didn’t ask for the name, by the way.”

She ignored me.

Buggy stared again, this time longer. “So that’s real?”

Alvida raised her eyebrows. “Want a demonstration?”

Buggy hesitated. Then smiled, “Not unless it involves a unicycle and two doves!”

Buggy wobbled midair, grinning like he was waiting for the punchline.

When all he got was stares he continued, tilting his floating head toward them both, arms spread dramatically. “Alright, alright, so what’s your deal? What are a flashy pervert and a nude goddess doing sailing around picking up bodyless clown heads?”

Alvida straightened with the smooth ease of a woman who knew exactly how much attention she commanded and relished all of it. Her hips shifted as she placed a hand on one bare, polished thigh.

“I’m Iron Mace Alvida,” she said, voice smooth and sharp like a dagger dipped in honey.

“I’ve got my own score to settle with that Straw Hat fool. I was raiding a cruise ship. Easy job. Then this kid shows up wrecks my whole crew and punches me so hard I skipped across the ocean like a stone.”

Buggy winced. “That kid lives to humiliate.”

“Right?” Alvida snapped her fingers soundlessly in agreement. “But I didn’t drown. I floated and I found better.” She gave me a smirk. “Him. And the Sube Sube no Mi.”

Buggy’s red nose twitched. “Wait- the Slip-Slip Fruit?”

Alvida’s grin grew feral. “My skin? Untouchable. Bullets, blades, blunt ****? All of it slides right off.” She stepped back, hands on her hips, pushing her chest forward with zero shame. “Wanna see?”

I picked up the pistol off the table and fired.

BANG!

The pistol cracked, and the bullet flew, striking Alvida square on the left tit with a sharp smack. Her huge breast rippled violently, jiggling and bouncing like a water balloon in an earthquake but the bullet ricocheted harmlessly off, clinking into the sea with a lazy plunk.

Buggy’s eyes widened, nose beginning to bleed in slow admiration. “That’s... actually pretty flashy.”

Alvida rolled her shoulder, her tit still wobbling slightly. “Told you.”

Then Buggy turned his gaze back to me. “And what about you, Ringmaster? You eat some kind of Devil Fruit too? Or is your dick the superpower?”

I smirked. “Normo Normo no Mi,” he said, thumbing his chest. “I’m a Normal Human.”

Buggy paused. Then blinked. “...What?”

“That’s the power,” I said. “I’m normal. Whatever I do, people treat it like it’s normal. Say something weird, do something weirder... if I call it normal, it just is.”

Buggy stared. Then started laughing. “Wait, wait, hold on! You’re telling me your power is being a normal guy?”

“More like making everything I do feel normal,” I said with a shrug.

“Ohhhh, no,” Buggy wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. “That’s not flashy! That’s like... that’s like eating a Devil Fruit and turning into a lampshade!”

I gave a shrug, lips curled in a knowing grin. “I make things normal. That’s the point.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Hmph. Sounds like something a guy without powers would say.”

I considered it for a second. Thought about throwing out something that made him do something absurd.

But then I sighed.

No point, I thought. He’d never connect it to me. With my powers, once the Normality settles in, it feels like it’s always been true. He’d just think he always did that thing. That’s how it works. That’s the whole mind-bending problem of it.

I decided I didn’t care if Buggy believed me or not.

I gestured lazily toward Alvida. “I can make things like this happen.”

“Like wha-?”

“Shaky-shaky.”

Alvida, mid-sip of her drink, didn’t miss a beat. Her shoulders rolled, her chest twisted and those massive tits began to sway, side to side, in perfect hypnotic rhythm. They bounced and jiggled with absurd smoothness, swinging like slow, heavy bells in a windless temple.

Buggy’s jaw dropped. His whole head tilted like a ship’s mast in a gale. Then-

SPUUUUURT!

A blast of crimson shot from his oversized red nose like a popped ketchup bottle, spraying high into the air as his head spun sideways and nearly clipped the mast.

“G-GYAAAAHH! FLASHY **** BY TIDDY!” he shrieked, spinning in the air as he struggled to right himself.

Alvida blinked. “What the hell’s wrong with him?”

I smiled into my drink. “He’s just overwhelmed by your presence.”

Buggy crashed into the mast and slid down with a muffled whimper.

Still swaying gently, Alvida rolled her eyes and took another sip of rum. “Lightweight.”

Buggy waddled over, still dabbing at his nose with a gloved hand, eyes glassy but focused.

Alvida took a long drink from the bottle. “So. We both want the same thing.”

Buggy sniffed. “**** on that rubber bastard.”

She nodded. “He humiliated me.”

“He dismembered me,” Buggy growled.

They looked at each other... one naked, gleaming, and smug; the other a floating cartoon head with a grudge and a nosebleed.

At the same time, they said:

“Let’s work together.”

I decided I wasn’t opposed to the idea. No one had asked me, despite the fact that I was supposed to be Alvida’s partner, but that was just how it went, wasn’t it? I still felt like her normal subordinate and it was normal for her to just steamroll her crew unless I really put my foot down. Buggy, for all his ranting and bombast, was kind of funny in his own way, and he’d definitely keep things interesting. Another Devil Fruit user on board wasn’t a bad thing either especially one loud and ridiculous enough to draw fire while I worked in the background. And if he got too unpredictable? Well… I could always adjust him. Quietly. Subtly. Normality had a way of keeping loud people leashed without them ever knowing they were on a leash. Alvida was the centerfold, Buggy would be the spectacle, and me?

I was the one smiling in the shadows, having more fun than either of them realized. Made perfect sense, really.