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come_sailaway2022-09-07 11:26 am
saltwaterlungs) wrote in come_sailaway2022-09-07 11:26 am
Entry tags:
- changeling the lost: erin peters,
- far cry 5: deputy pratt,
- fe3h: dimitri alexandre blaiddyd,
- geist the sin-eaters: darcy lejeune,
- groundhog day musical: phil connors,
- ikemen sengoku: nobunaga oda,
- lavender jack: johnny summer,
- our flag means death: stede bonnet,
- the 100: clarke griffin,
- the black phone: vance hopper,
- the prisoner: number 6
Pack it up, pack it in,
CHARACTERS: Darcy, and YOU?!
DATE: First half of September prior to the event
LOCATION: Sports deck
SITUATION: A pirate-sponsored fight club for the sake ofbeating the shit out of each other bettering each other
WARNINGS: It’s a fight club. Violence is to be expected.
Fliers go up around the ship, as they so often do. This time put up with a reasonable amount of tape and written in a much less flowery hand than people would expect, the announcement ‘FIGHT CLUB TUESDAY EVENINGS SPORTS DECK: MAKE FRIENDS AND THEN HIT THEM’.
Anyone going to the sport’s deck after 7pm for the Tuesdays before the excursion will find tennis court set up for an impromptu fight club. There’s a notebook with a pen off to one side as a sign-in sheet, and a small list of rules written in the same handwriting as the fliers.
-No killing or dying
-Respect tapping out
-If you’re learning, respect your teacher/s
-If you’re teaching, respect your student/s
-Cause problems, get kicked out
Off to the sidelines, Darcy can be found supervising, keeping an eye out for any issues.
In one corner is supplies for fencing and swordplay. Three protective jackets, mesh masks, and blunt training sabers in a loose pile, plus whatever weaponry people themselves supply. There’s a circular arena drawn out on the ground, with a narrower fencing piste drawn through the middle of it.
For those more inclined to hand-to-hand combat, a couple of the punching bags from the gym have been dragged out onto the court, along with focus-pads and a couple of long strips of bandages bandages to wrap one’s hands with. An arena has been drawn out, about the right dimensions for a boxing ring.
Over on the furthest side- deliberately angled to face off the ship- there’s a makeshift shooting range consisting of a bunch of water bottles and some mannequins from the Tommy Bahama laid out as targets to shoot at. A line has been drawn on the ground, presumably to stand behind when shooting.
Right in the middle of everything is an arena marked out for no clear purpose, with no equipment nearby. It can probably be presumed that this is somewhere for people to spar, or more likely, show off in front of everyone.
DATE: First half of September prior to the event
LOCATION: Sports deck
SITUATION: A pirate-sponsored fight club for the sake of
WARNINGS: It’s a fight club. Violence is to be expected.
I came to win
Fliers go up around the ship, as they so often do. This time put up with a reasonable amount of tape and written in a much less flowery hand than people would expect, the announcement ‘FIGHT CLUB TUESDAY EVENINGS SPORTS DECK: MAKE FRIENDS AND THEN HIT THEM’.
Anyone going to the sport’s deck after 7pm for the Tuesdays before the excursion will find tennis court set up for an impromptu fight club. There’s a notebook with a pen off to one side as a sign-in sheet, and a small list of rules written in the same handwriting as the fliers.
-No killing or dying
-Respect tapping out
-If you’re learning, respect your teacher/s
-If you’re teaching, respect your student/s
-Cause problems, get kicked out
Off to the sidelines, Darcy can be found supervising, keeping an eye out for any issues.
Battle me that's a sin
In one corner is supplies for fencing and swordplay. Three protective jackets, mesh masks, and blunt training sabers in a loose pile, plus whatever weaponry people themselves supply. There’s a circular arena drawn out on the ground, with a narrower fencing piste drawn through the middle of it.
I won't ever slack up
For those more inclined to hand-to-hand combat, a couple of the punching bags from the gym have been dragged out onto the court, along with focus-pads and a couple of long strips of bandages bandages to wrap one’s hands with. An arena has been drawn out, about the right dimensions for a boxing ring.
Punk you better back up
Over on the furthest side- deliberately angled to face off the ship- there’s a makeshift shooting range consisting of a bunch of water bottles and some mannequins from the Tommy Bahama laid out as targets to shoot at. A line has been drawn on the ground, presumably to stand behind when shooting.
Try and play the role and yo the whole crew'll act up
Right in the middle of everything is an arena marked out for no clear purpose, with no equipment nearby. It can probably be presumed that this is somewhere for people to spar, or more likely, show off in front of everyone.
no subject
"You just met me, youngblood," Erin murmurs. "You don't need to tell me a damn thing. But what I don't know, I can't help you with. I'm not...a stranger, to being changed in a way I'm not okay with. To having to live a life with those changes as best you can. It fucking sucks, but ducking the issue means ducking the advantages you might gain from it. In peacetime, maybe that's a trade folks like us can make..."
She trails off and takes her hand back, fishing now for bandages.
"...Be nice to know what that's like sometime," she admits, with a bit of a sigh. "Peace has not been on the table for me in a long, long time. And judging by your choice of second weapon, not for you either. Misirecordes are not the weapons of a peacetime duelist."
no subject
Darcy grits her teeth through the disinfectant- she's dealt with plenty of injuries before now, and even if she hadn't, the zombies at least had necessitates a fair amount of wound clean-up.
Then there's the offer and... it's unsettling how once again Erin cuts her down to the marrow like she's stripping a carcass of meat. Darcy really wants to snarl and snap in defense, to say she really doesn't know what it's like to have choices made for you and things happen to you without your input. There's a rage there towards her oath that Darcy had assumed she'd grown out of.
"I didn't pick it. The misericorde" Darcy croaks at length, "this place gave it to me. I know what they're made for."
The muscles in her jaw flexes, "I don't need your help. I've been living with my shit a long time before you showed up. I'm not a fucking lost lamb and I'm not a project or whatever else it is you think of me. I gave you my fucking answer. Not here and not now. Later, somewhere else. I'm meant to be supervising."
no subject
She puts the finishing touches on the cuts and nods to herself before standing up. Erin's expression looks...distant.
"I shouldn't've done you that hard," she murmurs. "And I apologize for that. It's...no, there's no excuse. But it won't happen again until or unless you're ready to go that hard. Thank you for the fight, and I suppose I'll see you Tuesdays."
no subject
"See you Tuesday. And stop fucking miss-ing me," Darcy raises a hand to feel at the bandages, and then returns to the sidelines to try and keep an eye on everyone else.