Post by yumi222 on Apr 13, 2022 10:38:25 GMT -5
Dani could admit it. It life had gotten pretty boring since he left his last crew. Sure, he still had... a LOT to figure out about himself. A new body practically meant a new life. If he didn't want to be associated with his old reputation, he couldn’t go back to his family or his old home either. Beyond even just being known as the falsely slapdash mechanic and shipwright, the baggage of… what occurred, was not something he wanted to deal with again. He’d spent a good month or so with a crew that used his situation to their advantage, and he was sure he’d either get groan inducing pity from the people of his old life… or the most awkward, perverse questions from those who couldn’t turn that particular switch.
No, no need to complicate things. It was weird being treated like a woman. It was weird BEING one physically, but he still had his hands, his mind, his work. He could still put it all to good use, and even if he had to build a reputation from scratch, it was better than repairing his old one. ‘Dani’ wasn’t slapdash. She wore clothes that meant most guys didn’t bother her, and had a strong enough scowl to deter the rest who’d bother trying. She was a strange person, new to the island, but had their uses, that’s all they needed… but it wasn’t all he needed.
One boat after another coming back from fishing trips… he was growing bored with it. The most interesting reaction he got was the odd shark bite on a smaller ship that could take some more dedicated repairs, or a bit of drunken sailing resulting in colliding with some rocks near the shore. Ultimately it was boring and routine. It was safe, sure, he could appreciate that… but it was growing stale.
With no boats brought in yet today, he was waiting for the earliest returns from the days sailing trip, sitting at a desk in his workshop, a clack of machinery as he filled a bullet with gunpowder and loaded the shell around it. He heard the sounds of his door opening, this place wasn’t dangerous enough to bother locking it. A flicker of a gaze over his shoulder, thick goggles covering his eyes and a rimmed cap over his hair. That, and his male-fit clothes and gloves as he worked helped him keep some semblance of his old identity, and, with a mildly deepened tone, not seeing much more than silhouettes thanks to the glare of the sunlight outside, he waved his hand dismissively.
“Look if you need barnacles scraping I told you I don’t do work like that. If it’s missing planks or a bump with some bigger fish you’re gonna need to wait till my working hours. I’ll come by the docks and take a look and see if it’s worth sailing into the shop.” He tried not to be rude, but he was still a stranger to these people, and it went both ways. He didn’t see a need to make friends… likely it’d just cause more issues given his situation.
No, no need to complicate things. It was weird being treated like a woman. It was weird BEING one physically, but he still had his hands, his mind, his work. He could still put it all to good use, and even if he had to build a reputation from scratch, it was better than repairing his old one. ‘Dani’ wasn’t slapdash. She wore clothes that meant most guys didn’t bother her, and had a strong enough scowl to deter the rest who’d bother trying. She was a strange person, new to the island, but had their uses, that’s all they needed… but it wasn’t all he needed.
One boat after another coming back from fishing trips… he was growing bored with it. The most interesting reaction he got was the odd shark bite on a smaller ship that could take some more dedicated repairs, or a bit of drunken sailing resulting in colliding with some rocks near the shore. Ultimately it was boring and routine. It was safe, sure, he could appreciate that… but it was growing stale.
With no boats brought in yet today, he was waiting for the earliest returns from the days sailing trip, sitting at a desk in his workshop, a clack of machinery as he filled a bullet with gunpowder and loaded the shell around it. He heard the sounds of his door opening, this place wasn’t dangerous enough to bother locking it. A flicker of a gaze over his shoulder, thick goggles covering his eyes and a rimmed cap over his hair. That, and his male-fit clothes and gloves as he worked helped him keep some semblance of his old identity, and, with a mildly deepened tone, not seeing much more than silhouettes thanks to the glare of the sunlight outside, he waved his hand dismissively.
“Look if you need barnacles scraping I told you I don’t do work like that. If it’s missing planks or a bump with some bigger fish you’re gonna need to wait till my working hours. I’ll come by the docks and take a look and see if it’s worth sailing into the shop.” He tried not to be rude, but he was still a stranger to these people, and it went both ways. He didn’t see a need to make friends… likely it’d just cause more issues given his situation.