Play time is over, put the toys away. [Kovac]

[Sairque]

1 Winter, 510 AV. Afternoon
Thunder Bay Seasonal Closing

The boat fell into its groove with a reverberating thunk, and a collective heaving of breaths followed on its heels. The group dropped the ropes and headed down the beach to bring in the next one. Sai lingered behind, resetting her leather gloves over her palms and eyeing the tall structure. It housed the fishing ships over the icy season, one boat per skeletal cubicle, all stacked atop one another. The ground level had already been filled with the largest of the fishing vessels; today all they had to do was store the smaller ones. It was a pretty simple system. Use the runners to help drag the boat up from the shore, use pulleys to lift the boat to the proper level, and then swing it into the slot.

A glance over her shoulder assured her that the group was still working to get the boat up the runners. They, just like her, were bundled up tightly in knee high boots, thick bryda, several shirts, katinus, caps, and heavy scarves. It was one of the rare times when there were no glimpses of red hair to give away their race. No matter how hot they got from the physical labor, the self generated heat wasn’t enough to beat out the icy mist from the ocean. Better hop to, then, she thought with a wry twisting of her lips, glancing up at the thick beams. Her eyes slid over to the recently released ropes. They were attached to a boat that was guaranteed to weigh a great deal more than she.

Still, one was subjected to a firm tug before she pulled at the fingers of each glove, tucking them into her pockets. Confident in the anchor, the short woman latched onto the rope with a spry hop. It was thick in her palms, rough and easily gripped. Hand over hand, she ascended steadily, face turned up toward her goal and legs dangling with rhythmic swaying depending on which hand was reaching up for the next pull. Beneath the bulky form progressing smoothly upward, the rope danced and the end twitched across the churned snow. Sai paused, feeling the strength in her arms holding her with no sign of fatigue, and eyed the distance between herself and the ship that had provided the warm up exercise for this climb. Only one way to go.

Abs contracting, the clothing-bulked figure started swinging toward the boat, legs thrusting out and then dropping back. The pulley that made all of this possible clanked alarmingly and squealed. Surprised, Sai released her hold and flung the rope out of her way so she could fly toward the boat with wind-milling arms. This is why they scurry up the beams and not the ropes. The hard planks of the ship met the flight leader with a hollow thunk and she scrambled to gain a hold on the railing as she fell. The available options dwindled as her momentum shifted from forward to down, the railing was gone and the planks offered no help. Something caught under her armpit with a jolt and rubbed noisily along the material of her coat, guiding her fall backwards even as it cleared her arm and left her to free fall again. Glancing up, almost belatedly, it registered that the thing was a rope on the boat side of the pulley. Both hands scrabbled for it and one caught it by the fingertips.

Clutching it in a fist, her weight pulled more slack through the pulley and slammed her against the vessel again. She softened the collision with an outstretched leg. “Whew, that was close,” the Endal muttered, thanking her lucky stars and taking several moments to breathe. Rotating around, she peeked toward the shore, wondering if anyone had caught that blunder.

Shaking from the excitement of the miniature ordeal, Sai pulled herself over the railing of the boat and set about unhooking the ropes from it. Eventually, they were all dropped down to be used for the next ship that would rest in this column. Okay, moving on. Perching momentarily on the bow of the ship, the next storage spot was examined. Just gotta… Sai uncoiled and sprang over to the beam separating the two cubicles. And then… Hands held up next to her ears for balance, she walked toe-to-heel along the round wooden beam toward the front of the structure. Now… Hugging the corner support , she skirted around it to the front beam and carefully walked along it just as she had the first. The other corner support had the ropes coiled up and stored on. With little ado, they were pulled off and tossed down to be used on the boat her team was pulling into place at the moment. Tada!

[Kovac]

It was cold, the oncoming winter wind coming in off of Storm Bay, but the half-blood seemed little bothered by it. He would like to brag that it was the mix of Inarta and Vanthan blood that made him immune to the chill, but in reality, he knew it had more to do with the bottle of wine in his hand. The Avora had found it as they boarded up a tool shed, among the nets and block and tackle. A shame for it to spend the whole winter locked in that cold shack alone. After liberating the bottle from its icy doom, some Rider commissioned the archer to carry a heaping coil of rope lying on the ground. The Endal was not one of his favorites (he had only one), and the half-breed screwed up his face and stuck his tongue out at the rider as he strode away arrogantly. Kovac managed to wrangle the large coil of thick rope onto his shoulder, no small feat while bundled up in a katinu and clutching a wine bottle. Kovac weaved his way towards the structure where they were storing small vessels, the place he was directed to stash the rope. He hummed a tune under his breath, a lively song he had been trying to finish composing. He was stuck at one point, and found he had written himself into a musical corner. His alcohol soaked mind tried to sing his way out of it. Arriving at the boat storage, the archer sighed in relief seeing a group just leaving from hoisting another boat up into place. They would struggle getting the next onto the runners and up to the cribs. He intended to drop the rope and head out before they got the boat up to muscle into place. Finding a pallet near the front of the structure, Kovac dropped the rope with a stifled grunt. Rotating the stiff shoulder that bore the brunt of the coil's weight, the Avora heard the squeal of a pulley. His eyes shot upwards, in time to see a petite figure flail through the air to land in one of the fishing vessels. He watched curiously as the person nearly careened off the boat, only to save herself at the last moment. Kovac leaned against a beam, his arms crossed as he watched. "Going to get themselves killed." He muttered to himself, seemingly unaffected by the other's near death experience. The figure disappeared, but the lengths of rope that dropped from above indicated whoever was up there continued to work. With amusement Kovac watched as the small figure balanced their way across a beam to the next berth, preparing for another ship. "Since when did Inarta hire monkeys to store their boats!" He called out with a sarcastic laugh, lifting the bottle to his lips for a deep drink.

[Sairque]

She knew that voice. That surly, arrogant, slurred voice. Sai peered down at the dark head tipped back to allow a proper guzzling from the dubious bottle of wine. The voice fit, the hair fit, and the drink surely fit. Monkey, huh? With a mischievous smirk, the Wind Rider tucked her hands up by her ears and cautiously scurried back over to her original berth. Rotten little drunk. Heel-to-toe along the beam, a momentary wobble that one outstretched hand corrected, and she thanked Zulrav for letting her traverse the height in peace. Coming to the corner column, and feeling adventurous, Sai hopped the two step gap between her beam and the one she would scamper along to hop back into the boat. The landing wasn’t so smooth, and Sai finished the trek fully chastised.

Ovek, you saved my ass earlier, didn’t you? she thought emphatically, eyeing the distance between herself and the boat, and wondering how she had kept her balance after leaping from the boat to this very spot earlier. Legs providing coiled strength, the Rider leapt forward and up in the hopes of catching the fishing ship’s railing. Hands scrabbling for purchase, she worried, for the second time, that she was about to prove herself a pathetic excuse for a monkey and plummet to the frozen ground. Not without bouncing off the ship housed beneath this one first, though. Finally, she hooked her elbow around a baluster and released a deep sigh of relief. The simple woodworking provided little in the way of finger holds, so ascension would depend upon brute strength. Wrapping her hands around the baluster and jerking herself upward would probably only result in splinters.

Instead, a careful balance of applied pressure would have to be used. Careful not to let herself drop any lower, Sai unwrapped her elbow from around the wood and replaced the hold with both hands. Having dug the tips of her boots into a groove in the wood, the experienced climber extended her arms and kept her legs locked, pushing her butt out furthest from the ship. The pressure gravity had been exerting on her toes was now counteracted by the pressure of her weight pushing into the ship. The downside of this maneuver being the necessarily inching movements to gain altitude. Slowly she crept up, the stress on her tightly coiled body, as well as the fear of losing her hold (from which there would be no chance of recovery), producing a slick layer of freezing sweat. The detriment to her grip did not improve matters. Though it felt like bells to gain the height necessary for her to contort enough to bring her foot up onto the deck, not even a chime had passed.

“Urgh,” she groaned, tumbling over the railing in a boneless heap. “Why are you doing this to yourself?” she asked the ceiling. Oh yeah, that snarky Avora. Unconsciously, a fond smile tugged at her lips. Well, you’ve just proven yourself a monkey. Pushing back to her feet, and dispelling any thoughts regarding her likeness to primates, Sairque strolled along the deck until she could hang over the edge with a clear line of sight to the man, and he to her. “Hey, Avora, since you’ve got nothing better to do why don’t you swing one of those ropes over to me and take a hold of the other end?” Sai had her bossy britches voice on, but there was still a faint note of affection curling throughout.

If he did, Sai would pull up the rope until she could get a firm grip on the end. “Hold tight, and when I say now, jump.” After he’d pulled all the slack she’d created back to his side of the pulley, she took a running leap over the railing. Upon gravity taking control of her motion, she would shout ‘now!’ The end result should be him zipping upwards and she zipping downwards until his weight had sucked up all the force of her fall and they balanced out.

[Kovac]

Kovac hugged the wine bottle to himself as he watched the rafters, seeing the small-frame bundled in a katinu skittered back across the beams. He could not place the face yet, though he had a hunch. As she hesitate at the gap between berths, the Avora stood up straighter, an unconscious reaction of suspense regarding the coming feat. The climber's body coiled and sprung, slamming against the boat and scrambling to take hold. Kovac did not gasp, displaying no visible reaction as the figure's fate hung in the balance for a split second, only muttering a simple 'huh' to himself. He started to walk closer, to stand under the boat. It was not as if he could catch her if she fell, but it seemed the right thing to do, at least the appearance of concern, as opposed to watching her fall to her death while leaning against a post at the end of the structure. With some admirable skill the figure inched her way up the hull of the craft until she disappeared over the edge, a faint smile curling the archer's lips at the solid thud of the body hitting the deck. Show-off. Moments later the head finally appeared over the vessel's rail. He huffed when he recognized the unmistakeable yellow eyes. Sairque. His spine straightened a little at seeing the blood-red-headed flight leader, then cursed himself for his involuntarily reaction. Kovac understood the strict Endal's disdain for outsiders, and her suspicion of half-bred Inarta like himself. He had always stepped carefully around her. Like Shayth, she had a reputation for losing her temper, but Sairque was a by the book Rider as well. The hand holding the wine bottle drifted to his side and behind is back, as if to conceal his vice. He stood, held tilted up towards the woman, swaying slightly. The Avora made no response to her command other than to turn and find the rope she wanted. Her tone was authoritative but not dictatorial, edged with some civility, and a sigh of relief escaped Kovac's lips. Taking hold of the rope he began to tug and whip the rope until it passed where Sairque could reach it. Once the Rider had grabbed it, the Avora obediently took hold of one end. Listening again to her instruction, half-heartedly through a wine-soddened mind, he nodded up to her and pooled up the slack in the rope. He barely caught it when she yelled 'now' and he made a quick crouch and standing jump. The Endal appeared again, leaping off the boat into free fall. With a startling sensation, Kovac launched into the air so suddenly that the wine bottle slipped from his hand to drop to the ground. Frantically, the now free hand joined the other grasping the rope as he lifted higher, his gaze darting to the image of Sai dropping from above next to him. In an instant they both slowed to a halt, dangling from either end of the rope. A chuckle erupted from Kovac's throat, quickly stifled in the precense of the notorious flight leader.

[Sairque]

Like two tear-drop glass beads tied into a hair ribbon, Sai and Kovac whirled through the crisp air at the mercy of the thick line between them. He siphoned off her momentum, absorbing it to climb higher, and plucking her from Semele’s beckoning embrace. She reveled in the rush of heedlessly eschewing safety for the thrill of relying on a bit of skill and a bunch of luck. Kovac didn’t let her down though, he dangled just over head, his weight slowly winning out to pull her back up toward the boat. And then he wasn’t hanging suspended anymore. He was falling, plummeting, like a glass bead torn free of its ribbon.

But Sai waited for him at the bottom. It wasn’t a far drop. Only about ten feet. She didn’t even feel bad about it. Well, not unless he fell on his head or something. Except…probably wouldn’t feel bad about that either. Anyone who was graceless enough to fall on their head after starting out with their feet pointed toward the ground, deserved it. So she waited until she could lean over him, smile angelically and say, “Since when did the Inarta get out-smarted by their hired monkies?”

She had simply released her hold before he had lifted her higher, hitting the ground with a grunt and crumpling down to roll over her shoulder before the ice stole her feet out from under her and dropped her straight onto her tail bone.

[Kovac]

As he dangled overhead clutching the rope, Kovac looked down at Sairque, who had eased to light softly to the ground, then to his bottle and the crimson pool that spread out from its mouth. "Petch..."was all he got out before the ground began a sudden and rapid approach, or rather, he did towards it. The archer landed on his feet, for an instant, before his knees buckled and he feel backwards into the puddle of spilled wine. He landed on his back with an audible escape of air from his lungs and a pained grunt. The Avora laid still, staring at the structure's roof high above, counting the specific spots in his back that ached. Surely the pain would have been more excruciating had he not been suitably numbed by alcohol. It was then that the woman's face appeared over his, framed by strands of crimson hair. Her innocent smile was neither convincing nor welcomed, and for a fleeting moment he wished he could wrap his gloved hand around her throat. But that would require him to move, and with Sairque's reputation, would probably end with him suffering some form of blunt trauma....rather, more blunt trauma. Kovac managed a completely humorless grin as he slowly rolled to his side with a groan and struggled to his feet. He kicked the wine bottle, which skidded along the ground and under a small boat. "Now what am I going to drink Endal?" He sighed, staring at the spilled wine and the stains on his katinu. His head lifted to look at Sairque, then to the vessel above from which she had jumped. "Did you have fun?" His tone was sarcastic, and even as the words passed his lips he realized how disrespectful his comment must sound. Kovac strove to conceal any indication that he actually regretted making the remark.

[Sairque]

Apathetic to his suffering in the face of his temper, Sai's gaze cooled considerably farther until more warmth could be derived from the icy bosom nurturing his back than the living, breathing, bundled up woman. "My concern isn't your wine, half-blood," she informed him, a slight curl of disgust in hr upper lip. If the Avora insisted on playing with the big dogs, he should sure as petch toughen up in the face of their games. Disappointment mingled freely with disgust and annoyance. He had shown certain promise of wit, but his surly disposition and selfish attitude denied access to it.

He had insinuated she was a monkey, less than an Inarta for her antics, and she had returned the insult with her own action and remark. It was a cycle much fun could be derived from, both entertaining fun and dangerous fun. Unfortunately, Kovac appeared to by a sour lemon in the dregs of loss. Lesson learned. Face clearing, she held out a hand to help him to his feet. Perhaps he was hurt more than she thought and that was the explanation for his attitude. Still made him a wuss, but it was an excuse for his behavior.

After he had found balance and a position that eased his aches, Sai scooped his wine bottle up and tossed it back into the hanger where some other random materials were collected. "What are you doing out here, Kovac?" Behind them, the heaving shouts of workers pulling up the next boat neared and Sai moved over to ready the hooks and ropes for them. The job wasn't quite as fun anymore, she found, wrapping her hand around one of the thick braids and untangling it from another.

[Kovac]

As Kovac straightened up, stretching to shake off the pain from his fall, he saw the playful glimmer flee from Sairque's face, replaced by the all too familiar scowl that usually greeted him. Neither did he miss her emphasis on the word half-blood. She never did seem to like him, and of the many reasons he gave her to hold him in disdain, the Avora was not sure which one was the prime culprit. He bristled as she resumed her arrogant demeanor. But, as the pain wore off, he grudgingly admitted that what she did was funny. Had it happened to anyone else, he would have hooted in delight. His eyes fell to the hard yellow pupil's of the peitite rider, and a twisted grin lighted across his face. Maybe she was not always rules and bitching after all. If she was...well, all the more fun. "Why, I came to help, mistress flight leader!" He adjusted his katinu and stepped towards the fiery Endal. "Surely I could be of some assistance." His dour attitude melted away and a lighter, snarky air seemed to possess the archer. Maybe this didn't have to be a chore, maybe he did not have to fall into the spiteful, cowering dog role this time. Why couldn't he have fun too. A blatantly insincere broad smile was plastered across his face as he moved to help sort out the ropes for the approaching boat.

[Sairque]

His sarcasm drew a suspicious arching of the left brow, eyes cooly scrutinizing the sudden change from sore-loser to overbearingly toothy. Unsure of what to make of this pearly attitude, Sai jerked down on her rope until the clasp swiveled loose and whizzed down to the churned snow beneath their feet. They worked side-by-side until all the lines hung straight in preparation for the newly arrived vessel.

All vestiges of earlier emotions washed away in the focus of untangling ropes, Sai's narrowed eyes finally lit on Kovac and the lighter attitude he'd found. Lips chapped by the frosty breeze finally pulled into a lopsided smirk of amusement, this over the top, complete insincerity she could handle. The boat bumped up, and Sai turned toward the sweating Inarta.

"All right," she called out to get their attention. "Go ahead and take a break while we hook this thing up." The amiably grunting men stepped away from the fishing ship at the order and tried to make the most of their respite. Sai, eyes bright under her dark cap and the color drawn out by the green scarf loosely wrapped around her face, nodded to Kovac.

"As you've already helped finish off the remaining store of wine, proving your ability to assist, I'll let you help get this tied off," the flight leader offered graciously with a flourish to the boat. Without further ado, she swiped one of the ropes, ensured its disentangled status, and attached the end with the clasp onto the proper spot on the vessel. One rope down, Kovac's progress was evaluated as he did his before she moved on to the next. This was an easy task and it wouldn't take the pair long. However, they had no idea that one of the pulleys had snapped and was severing a rope as they worked. Dun dun dun.

OOCWas that too cheesy for an ending? Btdubs, Mike, I sure do miss you.

[Mercury]

Sairque Skill(s) Leadership + 1XP Climbing + 3XP Lore(s) Packing Up Boats for the Winter Season All Bundled Up Climb the Beams. Not the Ropes! Close Call Leaping With Wild Abandon Inartan Monkey Bossy Britches Throwing Caution into the Wind All You Need is Skill and Luck Remind the Half Blood of his Place Reluctant Cooperation Pity is for the Weak Method to my Madness: Fun read. It was a little hard to keep up with all the action, just took me a couple reads. Lots of climbing = skill. Some Leadership points for ordering Kovac and the other workers. Kovac Skill(s) Drinking + 1XP Lore(s) Drinking the Cold Away Trapped in a Musical Corner Sergeant Sarcasm Hide the Alcohol! Pretty Drunk Foiled by Physics Landing, not like a Cat Don't Cry Over Spilt Wine Sour Lemon Remembering One's Place From Drinking to Helping Packing Up Boats for the Winter Season Method to my Madness: Drinking is a skill; without practice it becomes a dangerous endeavor. You can address any questions or concerns to the little voice in your head. A.K.A. PM me.