OOM: Pearl Repairs

[politestpirate]

The sky is cool, grey, and occasionally misting, but that just means when you are working hard you can keep warm enough.

And there is certainly plenty of work to be done. The deck of the Black Pearl has been cleared off, with debris and pieces that are large enough to reuse stacked carefully. All over is the gleam of cut and exposed wood, the splintered edges cut and smoothed in preparation for patching sections. One mast has been cleared of charred and torn sails and rigging, the canvas and rope set in one area to work on before it can be sent back up.

One of the current priorities, however, is fixing the stern section of the ship, the back wall of the captain's cabin, that took some of the worse damage from the kraken-

Scottish autumn nights can start to get chilly, afterall.

Party thread style, slowtimes more than welcome.

Comments

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

... Jack has a lot of interesting friends. That is the best way to put it, really.

Wellard nods to Crowley, hands already working on loosening the last connection. The knots loosen, with the rope connecting to the sail already starting to pull away with the weight of the canvas below. He moves free, watching the ropes.

"On its way- be careful, sir!"

[aj_crawley]

The "Oof" is substantially louder this time, as the sail drops and its full weight is transferred, joltingly, to Crowley's shoulder. The ratlines sway alarmingly, nearly knocking Crowley into the mast, and he reaches out again to steady himself whilst imagining quite fervently that the immense roll of sturdy cloth weighs very little at all.

A few seconds later:

"Got it."

Then there's a second thick rustle, much like the sound of the sail as it fell, and Crowley's wings re-appear, one to each side of the canvas along his back.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Wellard winces slightly when the sails drop on Crowley-

He is really hoping as well that there is no immediate crash-splat, so when Crowley stabilizes, and the wings come out, there is an audible sigh of relief from the spar up above.

"... Good."

[aj_crawley]

Getting airborne this time is a little trickier, but it's still a better option, in Crowley's opinion, than attempting to navigate the maze of ratlines with the unwieldy bundle over his shoulder. A few readjustments, a moment's untangling of hands and feet from lines, and then a faint tremor runs up the mast as Crowley kicks backwards, spreading his wings as he clears the rigging.

The ends of the sail, the trailing gaskets and ties... don't.

Ever see a running dog suddenly, and abruptly, reach the end of its leash?

Yeah.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

"-Hell."

One of the trailing lines is caught up and tangled in the mess of ratlines just below. Wellard is already dropping down to make his way there, to see about freeing the rope-

[aj_crawley]

- but Crowley's already backbeating frantically, twisting around in order to yank the tangled line free. Hovering in place (or close enough), he can do - has done before, with a tip of the hat and a jaunty wink to such concepts as physics and necessary anatomy. But waiting around for Wellard whilst on increasingly intimate terms with an exceedingly heavy and awkward sail is... not something he's about to try.

And with a final grunt, a last determined tug, the end of the sail comes free again, dropping to hang from Crowley's shoulder once more, leaving him free to begin his descent. Only...

Only the abrupt fall's caused it to slip sideways a bit, half off his shoulder and half onto his wing.

The deck's getting closer, and that flapping sound just got a lot more erratic.

[river_meimei]

And the deck's not empty.

River's head turns upwards, slowly, and her eyes widen.

"Swap out the grav boot," she says to the sky, low and urgent, under the heavy frantic beating of Crowley's wings.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

The tangled rope slips free, thank Godfully. Crowley is free to land down on the deck safely-

Or not. Wellard blinks, spotting River right in his path.

Not Good.

Disasterous, even.

"Miss River! Get- get down! Crowley, there's..."

He winces.

"Dodge! Hard-a-port!"

[aj_crawley]

[river_meimei]

(This thread has been conveniently subtitled for your viewing enjoyment.)

River did, for the record, have the sense to dodge aside at the last minute.

Unfortunately, she dodged in the same direction as Crowley's last desperate attempt at veering.



Oops.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Wellard is already climbing down the last of the rat-lines- Down is always easier than up, particularly when you can skip the last section and drop down to the deck itself.

"Are you two alright?"

[aj_crawley]

After a few seconds' silence, a lone casket rolls unharmed from under the heap of sailcloth and black feathers.


It's eventually followed by a hand.

"I'm okay!"

[river_meimei]

The world may never know if River managed to avoid being splatted by a sail-encumbered demon through luck, skill, or ethereal intervention. Possibly some combination of all three.

She's curled up on her knees, head defensively cradled in her arms, hair and skirts spreading across the deck -- and tucked beneath the bedraggled arch of one black wing, unharmed.

Slowly, she sits up.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

And now, Wellard will indulge in a deep breath and a momentary wince, before he starts pulling the sailcloth and ropes off the two of them.

[aj_crawley]

Crowley gets to his feet, brushing himself off and trying very hard to look as though nothing happened.

"We're good. We're good. You're good?" he enquires of River, helping her up. "We're good."

The sail, thankfully, has stayed largely rolled. Crowley sighs with relief, and sets to helping Wellard straighten them out, muttering under his breath.

"'Hard-a-port'. I'll hard-a-port you..."

[river_meimei]

"Next time allow for gravity," River informs Crowley.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Wellard gives Crowley a sideways look.

"... dodging would have worked either which way, however..." A quiet mutter, and he then works on winding some of the ropes trailing from the sail.

He glances over at River. "... That was sort of the plan, just a little bit more... controlled."

[aj_crawley]

¹

[ENG: flap flap flap FLAPFLAPFLAP CRASH]

[aj_crawley]

[NEDERLANDS: klep klep klep KLEPKLEPKLEP DICHTSLAAN]

[aj_crawley]

[ITALIANO: battito battito battito BATTITOBATTITOBATTITO CRASH]

[aj_crawley]

[DEUTSCH: flattern flattern flattern FLATTERNFLATTERNFLATTERN KRACH]

[aj_crawley]

[ZHŌNGWÉN: zhèn zhèn zhèn ZHÈNZHÈNZHÈN ZHÙI]

[aj_crawley]

[ESPAÑOL: aletazo aletazo aletazo ALETAZOALETAZOALETAZO ESTRÉPITO]

[aj_crawley]

[HAIKU:	Wings as midnight dark,
	Control lost, falling, hit her,
	In the, in the face.]

[aj_crawley]

[ARABIYYA: khafq khafq khafq KHAFQKHAFQKHAFQ TAHATTUM]