Post by Mr. Moshypocrite McSlowbro on Sept 6, 2015 1:49:21 GMT -5
The thick door from leading from the officer’s quarters creaked open, and a tuft of blue hair stuck out briefly from the frame. Spitting a rather emphatic oath, the content of which was thankfully lost in the pouring rain, the figure retreated back into the bowels of the ship with a slam. When it opened again a few minutes later the figure reappeared, this a little better equipped. With the click of a button on its handle, Lucy unfurled a small white umbrella and stepped out onto the deck. After fifteen frustrating minutes, she had managed to pull herself together (In a much more literal sense than that phrase usually implies) and throw on her uniform.
She’d chosen to grab her navy whites for the occasion: a white short-sleeved shirt bearing the marine emblem, dark blue trousers, and the classic MARINE baseball cap with her ponytail sticking through. Technically her rank meant she didn’t have the same uniform restrictions grunts had, but there was going to be a lot of brass in one place, and it was better to be overdressed than under. Plus she still had her justice coat on, so it wasn’t like anyone was going to mistake her for a recruit. It was buttoned from the bottom up to about her belly button, so that she could rest her right elbow in the slack fabric. Since she had no idea how to fix the weird faux-skin that covered the prosthetic, and did not particularly want to explain or draw attention to it in any way shape or form, she’d opted to wrap it up in medical bandages. It made her look like a kid who had been trying for a mummy costume but given up after just one arm, but it would have to do for the time being. Lastly, Lucy had the bulky silver case that held the Axel Rose secured horizontally across the small of her back by a system of straps, which looped around her waist like a belt. Not that she expected to need it, but there was a weird unspoken rule about always being armed when meeting other officers. Nobody ever explicitly said to do it, and it wasn’t like you’d get in trouble if you didn’t, but it was a prevalent tradition nonetheless. She’d always thought of it a sign of respect, or a way to show that you’re prepared and ready to work. But who the hell knows, the result was the same either way.
The deluge of water coming down on them reduced visibility, but not enough for her to miss the island looming just ahead of them. Winchester was one of the more infamous islands among law enforcement, at least in this neck of the sea. Always trouble brewing. Or in this cause, brewn. Brewed. Have brewed? Whatever. Regardless of grammatical accuracy, now the Cavalry was here, and they were gonna make sure everything got set right. Well, the supply guys were gonna make sure everything got set right. But she was definitely going to help!
Figuring she only had a few more minutes before they made landfall, she meandered over to the starboard railing where they’d be dropping the gangplank. Lucy wasn’t the only one to think of that. The captain was already there, puffing on the last few cinders of a dog end as he watched them pull in. Raolo was a middle-aged serviceman somewhere in his 30’s. Not particular tall, which was strange in and of itself in a profession where the average height of a male officer was probably closer to eight feet. It was an issue that was exacerbated by his bad posture, a sort of forward slump that pushed his shoulders forward and gave the eternal impression of someone who might be leaning over to whisper something conspiratory. His coat was a few sizes too large and was worn more like a cape, which was another odd tradition she’d never really understood. Underneath it was a large black vest, with innumerable bulging pockets and pouches of different shapes and sizes. As well as a toolbelt, of the same design and specifications. It was actually part of the reason she had always liked working with him in the past. Always prepared.
Catching Lucy out of the corner of his eye as she took the spot next to him, Raolo plucked the stubby cigarette from his lips and turned to greet her. “Hey there, Blue. Glad you decided to join us.” He said with a lopsided grin, his words accompanied by a puff of smoke and the poignant scent of unfiltered tar.
“Yeah, sorry about not swinging by. Been a little distracted.” The lieutenant replied truthfully, all the while doing her best not to breathe in. That smell always gave her a wicked headache.
“S’alright, s’alright. Not a problem.” Twirling the roll lazily between his fingers, he watched the red glow fade into nothing and then flicked it out into the water. Lucy was relieved to see it go, right up until he reached behind his ear and pulled out yet another dog end. On the flip side, this is part of the reason she DID NOT like working with Raolo. Seriously, how did he even hide so many in such a small space. Was he a nicotine wizard? And why were his powers limited to crappy half-smoked butts, rather than whole cigarettes? So many questions, so little time.
She needed a distraction. Or to at least to move upwind. “Oh! LUCY!” Came a sudden high pitched shriek right next to the metallic marine’s ear. She hopped back a step, and had to fight the instinctual response to elbowing the hell out of the tiny head that had popped up at her side. “What’s up? You alright? What happened to your arm?”
Even though they were three separate questions, they had been rattled off so quickly that they sounded like they’d been squished into one. This little bundle of energy was Raolo’s first mate, Ensign Bowen. Oddly enough, he was rather short as well, but he actually had a reason to be. Bow was a kid, maybe fourteen or fifteen by her guess. The lanky type, with short brown hair a few missing teeth. He wore the regular marine uniform, except he wore the blue neckerchief as a headband. Really she had no idea how someone his age had gotten the job, or how they could be qualified for it. But if Captain Ronso made the decision, she had to respect that. After all, he must have his reasons for it. Probably.
“It’s nothing.” Lucy replied just a bit too quickly, yanking her wrapped arm further into the recesses of the coat. Damn kids and their nosiness. The response just seemed to make Bow even more interested, and he leaned in further to try and get a look. As a fervent believer in the concept of personal space, she was about two seconds from whipping the rug-rat upside the head.
Luckily, she did not have to.
“Oiiiii.” Groaned a rather sour and increasingly soggy captain. In pestering her, Bowen had forgotten that he was in charge of holding up his superior’s umbrella. Raolo was left standing there holding a wet clump of paper and an unhappy expression.
The young ensign shifted back to his spot faster than you could say ‘latrine duty’, apologizing profusely all the while. Lucy did her best not to laugh. Well, maybe not her BEST best.
After relaxing back into a still silence, the three looked back over the water. The rain had started to lighten up a bit. That is to say, rather than raining cats and dogs, it was only raining cats. Which made it easier to see the ship they were escorting, the Urabanna, which was sailing along just a little behind them. She knew it was a larger ship, perhaps a bit smaller than a full battleship, but for some reason it never looked quite that big. If anything it seemed smaller than the vessel she was riding on, but it wasn’t until just now that she realized why. It rode really, REALLY low in the water. As in, she was pretty sure some of the crew cabins must have been completely beneath the waves, and if you hung from the railing you could probably touch the water with your toes. How the hell was it that heavy? That seemed like a massive issue. “Say, uhh. Question. Can… that ship even make it up to the dock?
“Y’know. That has actually been a source of speculation between the two of us for some time now.” Raolo spoke slowly, occupied as he was sorting through the collection of ruined smokables he kept behind his ear. He wore the look of a man in true mourning. Seriously, nicotine WIZARD.
“I got 500 berri that says the ship scrapes its hull and gets stuck. Cap says it’ll make it.” Chimed Bow, holding up aforementioned amount and looking rather pleased with his financial decisions.
“Wow, seriously?” Lucy scratched the side of her head with the handle of her umbrella, which did look a bit silly, but scratching your head is just what you are supposed to do when contemplating. It helps the thinking process, or something like that. See now technically sailors were not supposed to gamble, but technically they were supposed to write a report every time someone took something from the store room too, and that certainly never happened. And while she didn’t want to break any rules, if it was an activity the captain is endorsing, then what choice does she really have? He is her superior too, after all. “I… no, there’s just no way. I’m with Bow on this one. That thing’s never gonna make it.” She tucked the umbrella into the crook of her neck and shoulder so she could use her free hand to dig out a few notes from her pocketbook, which she promptly handed to the ensign. The wad of cash in his hands was much thicker than it had been. Other marines were gathering around, tossing their bet into the pool. Now things were getting interesting.
As they began the final approach, helmsman lining their ships up alongside the dock and slowing to a crawl, you could see on the surface of the water below where deeps gave way to the shallows. Their much lighter frigate made the transition easily, as was expected. But they all waited with bated breath to see how the suppy ship would make the transition. “Ahh. Aaaahhh. Here it cooomes.” Bowen whispered excitedly. For a few moments, it seemed like even the rain had paused to watch the as well.
Rather than the screech of wood against rock, or the catastrophic crash that they expected to hear, what they got instead was a low hissing sound. It was hard to pick up on at this distance, one of those noises that sit close enough for you to be aware of it but just far enough for it be impossible to identify. Contrary to all their expectations, the Urabanna began to slowly rise up out of the water. Bit by bit it climbed, until its deck matched the height of the Aldebaran Red, and then kept going. It was only after it stabilized that they figured out what had happened. Around the ship’s hull were massive yellow rubber spheres, which formed into a bumpy ring. Each was about the size of a person, and growing slowly.
“Wha-. Tha-. That. Balloons? How does that even work? That ship is HUGE. That makes no sense. Nada! Zip!” Bow was flabbergasted, which coincidentally was a word she wished she got to use more often. His slack-jawed expression was reflected on the face of everyone else watching too, with one rather smug exception.
Lucy stared blazing daggers at the Raolo, who was looking like the cat who ate the canary. '“You KNEW!”
“Nope. Didn’t have to. Ol’ Bon’s been at this game longer than most of you have been alive. Figured he knows what he’s doing. Now then. Pay up, scrubs.” He commanded, wiggling his fingers at them expectantly. A collective moan arouse from the small audience, who very grudgingly handed over their pocket money. More than a few folks were muttering something about highway robbery.
“You boys got cheese to go with that WHINE?” The captain cackled, stuffing away the various wads of cash and coin he was being passed into one of his many pockets. When he felt he had extracted a sufficient toll from his men, he nudged Lucy with his elbow and pointed down at the platform beneath them. A collection of uniformed men were waiting for them, all carrying umbrellas of their own save for the man in the middle, who the other shielded. “Look, there’s Commander Donnigan. Let’s go see what he has to say.”
She’d chosen to grab her navy whites for the occasion: a white short-sleeved shirt bearing the marine emblem, dark blue trousers, and the classic MARINE baseball cap with her ponytail sticking through. Technically her rank meant she didn’t have the same uniform restrictions grunts had, but there was going to be a lot of brass in one place, and it was better to be overdressed than under. Plus she still had her justice coat on, so it wasn’t like anyone was going to mistake her for a recruit. It was buttoned from the bottom up to about her belly button, so that she could rest her right elbow in the slack fabric. Since she had no idea how to fix the weird faux-skin that covered the prosthetic, and did not particularly want to explain or draw attention to it in any way shape or form, she’d opted to wrap it up in medical bandages. It made her look like a kid who had been trying for a mummy costume but given up after just one arm, but it would have to do for the time being. Lastly, Lucy had the bulky silver case that held the Axel Rose secured horizontally across the small of her back by a system of straps, which looped around her waist like a belt. Not that she expected to need it, but there was a weird unspoken rule about always being armed when meeting other officers. Nobody ever explicitly said to do it, and it wasn’t like you’d get in trouble if you didn’t, but it was a prevalent tradition nonetheless. She’d always thought of it a sign of respect, or a way to show that you’re prepared and ready to work. But who the hell knows, the result was the same either way.
The deluge of water coming down on them reduced visibility, but not enough for her to miss the island looming just ahead of them. Winchester was one of the more infamous islands among law enforcement, at least in this neck of the sea. Always trouble brewing. Or in this cause, brewn. Brewed. Have brewed? Whatever. Regardless of grammatical accuracy, now the Cavalry was here, and they were gonna make sure everything got set right. Well, the supply guys were gonna make sure everything got set right. But she was definitely going to help!
Figuring she only had a few more minutes before they made landfall, she meandered over to the starboard railing where they’d be dropping the gangplank. Lucy wasn’t the only one to think of that. The captain was already there, puffing on the last few cinders of a dog end as he watched them pull in. Raolo was a middle-aged serviceman somewhere in his 30’s. Not particular tall, which was strange in and of itself in a profession where the average height of a male officer was probably closer to eight feet. It was an issue that was exacerbated by his bad posture, a sort of forward slump that pushed his shoulders forward and gave the eternal impression of someone who might be leaning over to whisper something conspiratory. His coat was a few sizes too large and was worn more like a cape, which was another odd tradition she’d never really understood. Underneath it was a large black vest, with innumerable bulging pockets and pouches of different shapes and sizes. As well as a toolbelt, of the same design and specifications. It was actually part of the reason she had always liked working with him in the past. Always prepared.
Catching Lucy out of the corner of his eye as she took the spot next to him, Raolo plucked the stubby cigarette from his lips and turned to greet her. “Hey there, Blue. Glad you decided to join us.” He said with a lopsided grin, his words accompanied by a puff of smoke and the poignant scent of unfiltered tar.
“Yeah, sorry about not swinging by. Been a little distracted.” The lieutenant replied truthfully, all the while doing her best not to breathe in. That smell always gave her a wicked headache.
“S’alright, s’alright. Not a problem.” Twirling the roll lazily between his fingers, he watched the red glow fade into nothing and then flicked it out into the water. Lucy was relieved to see it go, right up until he reached behind his ear and pulled out yet another dog end. On the flip side, this is part of the reason she DID NOT like working with Raolo. Seriously, how did he even hide so many in such a small space. Was he a nicotine wizard? And why were his powers limited to crappy half-smoked butts, rather than whole cigarettes? So many questions, so little time.
She needed a distraction. Or to at least to move upwind. “Oh! LUCY!” Came a sudden high pitched shriek right next to the metallic marine’s ear. She hopped back a step, and had to fight the instinctual response to elbowing the hell out of the tiny head that had popped up at her side. “What’s up? You alright? What happened to your arm?”
Even though they were three separate questions, they had been rattled off so quickly that they sounded like they’d been squished into one. This little bundle of energy was Raolo’s first mate, Ensign Bowen. Oddly enough, he was rather short as well, but he actually had a reason to be. Bow was a kid, maybe fourteen or fifteen by her guess. The lanky type, with short brown hair a few missing teeth. He wore the regular marine uniform, except he wore the blue neckerchief as a headband. Really she had no idea how someone his age had gotten the job, or how they could be qualified for it. But if Captain Ronso made the decision, she had to respect that. After all, he must have his reasons for it. Probably.
“It’s nothing.” Lucy replied just a bit too quickly, yanking her wrapped arm further into the recesses of the coat. Damn kids and their nosiness. The response just seemed to make Bow even more interested, and he leaned in further to try and get a look. As a fervent believer in the concept of personal space, she was about two seconds from whipping the rug-rat upside the head.
Luckily, she did not have to.
“Oiiiii.” Groaned a rather sour and increasingly soggy captain. In pestering her, Bowen had forgotten that he was in charge of holding up his superior’s umbrella. Raolo was left standing there holding a wet clump of paper and an unhappy expression.
The young ensign shifted back to his spot faster than you could say ‘latrine duty’, apologizing profusely all the while. Lucy did her best not to laugh. Well, maybe not her BEST best.
After relaxing back into a still silence, the three looked back over the water. The rain had started to lighten up a bit. That is to say, rather than raining cats and dogs, it was only raining cats. Which made it easier to see the ship they were escorting, the Urabanna, which was sailing along just a little behind them. She knew it was a larger ship, perhaps a bit smaller than a full battleship, but for some reason it never looked quite that big. If anything it seemed smaller than the vessel she was riding on, but it wasn’t until just now that she realized why. It rode really, REALLY low in the water. As in, she was pretty sure some of the crew cabins must have been completely beneath the waves, and if you hung from the railing you could probably touch the water with your toes. How the hell was it that heavy? That seemed like a massive issue. “Say, uhh. Question. Can… that ship even make it up to the dock?
“Y’know. That has actually been a source of speculation between the two of us for some time now.” Raolo spoke slowly, occupied as he was sorting through the collection of ruined smokables he kept behind his ear. He wore the look of a man in true mourning. Seriously, nicotine WIZARD.
“I got 500 berri that says the ship scrapes its hull and gets stuck. Cap says it’ll make it.” Chimed Bow, holding up aforementioned amount and looking rather pleased with his financial decisions.
“Wow, seriously?” Lucy scratched the side of her head with the handle of her umbrella, which did look a bit silly, but scratching your head is just what you are supposed to do when contemplating. It helps the thinking process, or something like that. See now technically sailors were not supposed to gamble, but technically they were supposed to write a report every time someone took something from the store room too, and that certainly never happened. And while she didn’t want to break any rules, if it was an activity the captain is endorsing, then what choice does she really have? He is her superior too, after all. “I… no, there’s just no way. I’m with Bow on this one. That thing’s never gonna make it.” She tucked the umbrella into the crook of her neck and shoulder so she could use her free hand to dig out a few notes from her pocketbook, which she promptly handed to the ensign. The wad of cash in his hands was much thicker than it had been. Other marines were gathering around, tossing their bet into the pool. Now things were getting interesting.
As they began the final approach, helmsman lining their ships up alongside the dock and slowing to a crawl, you could see on the surface of the water below where deeps gave way to the shallows. Their much lighter frigate made the transition easily, as was expected. But they all waited with bated breath to see how the suppy ship would make the transition. “Ahh. Aaaahhh. Here it cooomes.” Bowen whispered excitedly. For a few moments, it seemed like even the rain had paused to watch the as well.
Rather than the screech of wood against rock, or the catastrophic crash that they expected to hear, what they got instead was a low hissing sound. It was hard to pick up on at this distance, one of those noises that sit close enough for you to be aware of it but just far enough for it be impossible to identify. Contrary to all their expectations, the Urabanna began to slowly rise up out of the water. Bit by bit it climbed, until its deck matched the height of the Aldebaran Red, and then kept going. It was only after it stabilized that they figured out what had happened. Around the ship’s hull were massive yellow rubber spheres, which formed into a bumpy ring. Each was about the size of a person, and growing slowly.
“Wha-. Tha-. That. Balloons? How does that even work? That ship is HUGE. That makes no sense. Nada! Zip!” Bow was flabbergasted, which coincidentally was a word she wished she got to use more often. His slack-jawed expression was reflected on the face of everyone else watching too, with one rather smug exception.
Lucy stared blazing daggers at the Raolo, who was looking like the cat who ate the canary. '“You KNEW!”
“Nope. Didn’t have to. Ol’ Bon’s been at this game longer than most of you have been alive. Figured he knows what he’s doing. Now then. Pay up, scrubs.” He commanded, wiggling his fingers at them expectantly. A collective moan arouse from the small audience, who very grudgingly handed over their pocket money. More than a few folks were muttering something about highway robbery.
“You boys got cheese to go with that WHINE?” The captain cackled, stuffing away the various wads of cash and coin he was being passed into one of his many pockets. When he felt he had extracted a sufficient toll from his men, he nudged Lucy with his elbow and pointed down at the platform beneath them. A collection of uniformed men were waiting for them, all carrying umbrellas of their own save for the man in the middle, who the other shielded. “Look, there’s Commander Donnigan. Let’s go see what he has to say.”