Joined: Wed Oct 15, 2008 8:02 pm
Babs and Sturges, June 30, 2008
Posted by: Olivier Sturges Jun 30 2008, 04:22 AM
Olivier waited until he could no longer hear scuttling and scurrying outside his cabin, hoping the relative silence meant the post-battle confusion was at last dying down. Grunting, he slipped from his room and lumbered, gingerly, towards the sick-bay.
Posted by: Barbara Lang Jun 30 2008, 04:26 AM
Lang had left the galley carefully, trying to balance two bowls of soup and two pieces of bread, as well as a few blankets, without spilling any of it or running into anyone. She crept along the wall, trying to anticipate which way the soup was going to go next, with a look of determination she usaully wore when trying to explode ship's masts.
"Evening, Sturges. Are you all right?" She asked, glancing towards the sick bay.
Posted by: Olivier Sturges Jun 30 2008, 04:34 AM
"Fine, fine, Lang," Sturges bustled, standing up suddenly when he realized he was being observed. "You seeing to the wounded, then? Or our those for the unlucky souls down in the brig?" he asked, trying too look as manly and not-at-all-feeling-his-age as possible.
Posted by: Barbara Lang Jun 30 2008, 04:38 AM
"I am not a nurse, I am a gunner." Lang reminded him, cheerily. "Andre wants me to see to some of the prisoners. So I am." She shrugged, rearranging the soup bowls so that she could carry them easier. "You are having a all right time of it?" She asked. "No injuries?"
Posted by: Olivier Sturges Jun 30 2008, 04:41 AM
"Just a few scrapes here and there," Sturges snorted, mustache poofing slightly. "You need a hand with all that?" He made to stride over to her--and his left knee went watery, turning the step into a stagger, sending him dangerously close to the precariously balanced soup bowls.
Posted by: Barbara Lang Jun 30 2008, 04:45 AM
Which then tipped all over Lang's hair and clothes, the walls, the floor, the ceiling and quite possibly Sturges. She shrieked as they clattered to the ground, bouncing back.
"Oh, fuck. Ashon's going to be upset." Lang pronounced, shuddering as she looked down at herself. "Are you all right, Sturges?" She asked, hastily picking up a blanket in a feeble attempt to dry herself off.
Posted by: Olivier Sturges Jun 30 2008, 04:51 AM
Sturges hit the deck with a grunt a heartbeat before a shower of soup splattered all over his clean clothes. "God’s wounds," he grunted, forcing himself up onto his knees and shuddering… the weight on his kneecap actually brought tears to his eyes. Grabbing ahold of the nearest wall, he dragged himself upward, face gone ruddy. "Absolutely. I am so very, very bloody sorry—good lord, it’s gone everywhere. You alright, then?"
Posted by: Barbara Lang Jun 30 2008, 04:55 AM
Lang looked somewhere between scared to death and angry as hell, and ran her fingers through her soupy hair. "I'm.. fine." She settled on, because going into hysterics was not the right answer.
"I'm sorry, you fell." She held out the blanket to him. "Your knee?" Lang asked. "You are sure you don't need the sick bay?" She said hesitantly.
Posted by: Olivier Sturges Jun 30 2008, 05:01 AM
"Just turned it a wee bit, during this morning’s tussel," Sturges muttered vaguely, waving a hand absently. "I hate doctors."
He took up the blanket and wiped it down his front, the act having little affect on the soup soaking his beard and shirt. "I’ll fetch up more, Lang, if you want to clean yourself up... I’ll bear the almighty wrath of our cook scorned."
Posted by: Barbara Lang Jun 30 2008, 05:06 AM
"I am sure they can wait for their soup. Kullie never had trouble feeding them." Lang said sensibly, brushing her hair back. "I will go back to Ashon, it's no worry. He doesn't have that much wrath." She favored him with a smile, bending down to pick up the other blanket and take a deep breath.
"You will need help to get back to your room." Lang told him, offering him her arm. "If you did not want to see Goddard, then why did you come out of your cabin?"
Posted by: Olivier Sturges Jun 30 2008, 05:09 AM
Sturges gave her an imperious look and tugged at his damp beard. "I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own, my dear wom—" The sentence broke off as his first step turned into a painful, wobbling limp. He grunted and looked up, embarrassedly taking her arm.
"Wanted something to bind it with without the good doctor catching wind. The man’s like to chop it as not."
Posted by: Barbara Lang Jun 30 2008, 05:18 AM
"Only if it's interesting enough for his collection." Lang amended, pretending not to notice his change in decision. "I can go back for bandage for you, Sturges." She offered, shaking herself a little to get the soup off.
"And if anyone asks, you can tell them you're giving me a stern talking too about the soup. You do give stern talking too's?" She asked, curiously. "I see people coming and going to your cabin, or you talking to a Pietri. Knocks doesn't prefer the Pietri's." She added, rolling her eyes.
Posted by: Olivier Sturges Jun 30 2008, 05:23 AM
"Thank you, Lang. You’re a proper gentlewoman. Yes, I do, and I've been told my stern talking too’s are absolutely terrifying," Sturges admitted, using the woman to brace himself between steps, grateful for her tact. "The Pietri’s simply find themselves in need of a larger-than-average share of them..." Another few steps, his breathing labored.
Posted by: Barbara Lang Jun 30 2008, 05:30 AM
"I thought they were practicing for a play." Lang said lightly, pausing to let the man catch his breath. "I am doubting they are terrifying. Spider didn't try to punch you in the eye when you talked with her last." She said teasingly, pleased by his compliments.
Posted by: Olivier Sturges Jun 30 2008, 05:51 AM
"Only because Andre would never forgive her," Sturges said lightly, amused. "Not all my talking-to's are stern. Some are downright pleasant. Just a bit further," he muttered, as they neared the door to his cabin. With a grunt, he reached out and swung the door open. "There we are. Christ almighty, when did this ship get so big?"
Posted by: Barbara Lang Jun 30 2008, 05:56 AM
"After the fight, I think." Lang said blandly, stepping back and biting her lip, pulling at her damp, soup soaked collar, looking very under the weather. "I would prefer a pleasant one. You are still needing bandage?" She asked nicely.
Posted by: Olivier Sturges Jun 30 2008, 06:02 AM
Sturges ushered her in and limped to his sea-chest, pulling out a blanket that was not in fact covered in soup and offering it to her. He then then dropped himself onto the lid, pulled off his boot, and rolled up his trousers. The joint had swollen up into a bruised, melon-sized mass, and he glared at it, as though force of will could repair the damaged tissue. "Not sure if bandages will do much for me, now. Getting old's a curse, Lang."
Posted by: Barbara Lang Jun 30 2008, 06:07 AM
Lang wrapped the blanket around her and cringed when she saw the joint, looking away. "No, a bandage wouldn't help. You'll have to stay off it awhile." She smiled. "The nice part about getting old is that you can order people to do your bidding?" She tried. "And you aren't that old. It was a hard fight, and you did well. You didn't seem to be hurting right after, and that's all that counts, right?"
Posted by: Olivier Sturges Jun 30 2008, 06:11 AM
"I’m glad you missed my nearly-getting-killed by sea monsters, during the first boarding," Olivier said with a rueful smile, pushing his beard aside to show the finger-shaped bruises around his throat. "You, on the other hand, I was very impressed with. How long you been shooting?"
He rolled up the other trouser leg and scowled, daring that limb to act up as well. Though that joint was also swollen, it lacked the vivid, agonizing appearance of its mate.
Posted by: Barbara Lang Jun 30 2008, 06:16 AM
"Since I was small." Lang said, starting, and taking her pistol out from the back of her pants and taking out the bullets. "Thank you for reminding me. I forgot to disarm after we finished. The dwarves have a very neat little pistol, yes?" She asked, holding it out to him. "Six rounds. It's wonderful. Do you shoot?" She asked, hoping to take his mind off his knee.
Posted by: Olivier Sturges Jun 30 2008, 06:23 AM
"Better with cannon than small arms," Sturges admitted rather grudgingly. He took the pistol and turned it over in his hands, shaking his head. "I'd break a little thing like this. Light too--means it's right useless when you've run out of bullets." He complained, hefting it and testing the weight. Despite the grumblings, his expression was appreciative. He'd never seen such a gun before.
Posted by: Barbara Lang Jun 30 2008, 06:29 AM
"It's very easy to whack someone with." Lang said, nodding. "I am better with cannon as well, but a pistol is always better than a sword. People get so.. fancy about killing people with them." She snorted. "You can keep that, if you'd like. Just tell the dwarves that Lang gave it to you, they'll give you bullets."
Posted by: Olivier Sturges Jun 30 2008, 06:33 AM
"You come bearing gifts," he said, both surprised and pleased. "Perhaps I should dump soup on people more often. You get on well with them, then? The dwarves. I find myself rather intimidated by their beardiness.... as though need to work up a bit more growth before I take up their time." He tugged at his own profusely flowing facial hair, which was currently soup-colored rather than its usual silver-gray.
Posted by: Barbara Lang Jun 30 2008, 06:38 AM
Lang smirked, and almost laughed. "You will never catch up. Maybe to Knocks, as he lost part of his beard, in our last fight." She fingered her hair, smile fading. "I like them well enough, they are sweet. The language is not hard to pick up. They like work, I like work. We get along."
Posted by: Olivier Sturges Jun 30 2008, 06:51 AM
"I'll eat lots of noodles. I hear that helps with the growth," Sturges suggested, rather slyly. "That's good. That's very good. With any luck, we'll be able to keep some of them on, even after Mercer."
Posted by: Barbara Lang Jun 30 2008, 06:53 AM
"Where else would they go?" Lang asked. "Except back to their homeland." She frowned. "You think Andre will stay on, after Mercer? With Spider pregnant?" The Bavarian scoffed.
Posted by: Olivier Sturges Jun 30 2008, 12:49 PM
"That didn’t hold him back last time," Sturges pointed out, snorting. "Spider’s a stubborn girl; I can’t imagine a child would slow her down much. If need be, they’ll settle for a few months for the birth, and set sail again once the babe’s got a few solid weeks behind it."