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

[pirate_jack]

He doesn't even blink an eye at the 'lately.'

"Delighted to make your acquaintance, mate."

[mercurialist]

"So..."

And this is rattled off at an impressive clip.

"I'm here, she's here, there're plenty of other people here and construction might not be much of my thing but I've got quick hands," he flashes them palm-out, "quick feet, ways of getting around and a good set of limbs. And all my own teeth. Where do you need me?"

He's been eyeing the ship on occasion ever since she turned up, and it's a damn shame to see her in disrepair.

(More of one to see her landlocked, but that goes without saying.)

[pirate_jack]

Jack grins wickedly at him.

"Belowdecks, at the rails--" this part is said with a speaking glance toward the rail that Mercer's just been walking-- "or aloft, mate?"

[mercurialist]

"Huh."

He drops his head back to eye the sails consideringly, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back onto his heels.

"Not below. There's not enough room to move and I like the air up here better. In fact," and he matches Jack's wicked grin, "the more air the better. Aloft. The rails after that if they still need it."

[pirate_jack]

One mast has been dealt with thanks to Elda and Wellard's work, and Wellard's hard at work again on the second, with Crowley.

Jack gestures grandly to the mizzen, near at hand.

"Hope you're good at climbing, mate."

[mercurialist]

Mercer gives a theatrical gasp, as if mortally affronted.

"What? Of course I am! The hell kind of question is that, man?"

And then it vanishes as the grin comes sliding back and he hops onto the rigging, scaling it for the barest handful of feet before swinging around to vault higher onto the mast.

If something seems to flicker near his heels for an instant, it's probably just a trick of the light.

[pirate_jack]

He throws his head back in a shout of laughter, and peers upward to follow Mercer's progress.

"Apologies, I'm sure."

[mercurialist]

"You're forgiven." Easy, if magnanimous, as he springs higher, turning a somersault as he goes.

(Showoff.)

He lands just above the stay, sandaled feet braced against the mast and one hand twined in the tangle of rigging. The jib sail's gone, the stay cracked and the other sails twisted into a knot. Mercer hops another foot higher before easing a tentative foot onto the stay to test it.

Satisfied it'll hold his weight even in its poor condition, he lets go and calls down to Jack, "You want all this to come down?"

[pirate_jack]

"Want's not the word, mate," he says, very dryly. "But it's got to come down-- can't stay like it is, savvy?"

[mercurialist]

"I savvy."

It's not swift this time, how he walks further out onto the stay and takes a seat. Not for him, anyway. Mercer's feet swing as he leans over and snatches up part of the tangled ropes to begin examining them, turning them over and around in his hands to follow the winding knot.

Thoughtfully, "Want and need. That's good. I like it. You'd be surprised how many people don't get that semantic distinction, captain."

[pirate_jack]

"People don't get a lot of things," Jack advises him, just as dryly as before. "It's a thing what's worth keeping in mind."

[mercurialist]

"Oh, I do," he reassures him, cheerful, as he plucks at one loop with an oddly delicate motion before starting to unwind the knot. "If I didn't I'd never get any work done. You got anything sharp down there you could toss up?"

[pirate_jack]

This earns him a rather curious stare.

"... you're wanting me to throw something sharp at you, mate?"

[mercurialist]

An eyebrow.

Actually, more like an Eyebrow.

"Yes?"

Mercer holds up the knot and wiggles it to punctuate.

[pirate_jack]

Jack shrugs.

"As you'd have it, then."

In one swift movement, he's pulled a knife from his boot and sent it spinning through the air, straight at Mercer's shoulder-- or the mast behind it.s

[mercurialist]

Mercer's expression doesn't change, except for the sudden unnatural sharpness to his eyes as he watches the knife spin toward him.

And then --

Thwap.

At the last second, a hand shoots out to grab the hilt from midair.

"Thanks!" he calls, and flops out flat on the stay as he wiggles the flat of the blade into the knot.

[pirate_jack]

"... now that's very interesting." Jack grins at him, and takes a step back for a better angle of view.

"Need anything else, mate?"

[mercurialist]

"Don't think so."

He's got the tip of his tongue poking between his teeth as he works.

"I'll yell if I do, how about that?"

[pirate_jack]

"Sounds like a plan."

A thoughtful beat.

"And not a bad one, at that."

[mercurialist]

"Hey, thanks, I thought so myself." A wink. He digs the knife further in and twists his fingers into the loosened knot, seeking the end.

Then there's another swift glance to Jack, and a small smile bereft of any teasing or sarcasm.

"We'll get her to rights." And he picks up his earlier...'tune,' for lack of a better word, only in a whistle this time.