[Witches' Horses] Swallow's Tail
Title: fishing for tools
'Verse/characters: Swallow's Tail; Sascha, Lev Petrovich
Prompt:96D "storm"
Word Count: 369
Notes: expanded from the spark "a sudden loud clatter". Between just your average afternoon riot and heartbeats in the dark; they're a pretty solid 3.
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Sascha almost dropped the fine-point welding bit on his foot when the ceiling tried to convince him there'd been a massive ice malfunction and it would shortly be hailing on his head.
He stared up at the ceiling, fully prepared to duck and cover in case his first reaction wasn't wrong, then stood up and sidled carefully over to the access hatch, rapped a knuckle on the dangling ladder.
When nothing happened except a minor repeat of the hailstorm, he called "You all right up there?"
"Festering son of a witch," the Captain growled from overhead, echo from the horse granting him a bit more gravitas than he came by naturally.
Sascha considered that, then exhaled a silent sigh before he started listing "Burn, cut--"
"Dropped the old-man punched wrench and it's out of reach."
'And I just nearly put my shoulder out of socket trying to get at it,' Sascha filled in mentally. Idiot Russian.
He leaned against the ladder, which swayed a little before it held him, shaking his head, half-amused. "See if you can toss it from coil to coil," he suggested, "and if not I'll go find Helena and we'll get a magnet on a string or something."
He stood back up straight, gave the ceiling one more slightly suspicious glance, and then went back to what he'd been working on.
There was a delay from the ceiling, accompanied by a bit of rattling but not the rhythmic bouncing of a coil-driven wrench.
Eventually, the Captain said "Sascha?"
"Yeah?" he replied absently, as he carefully inched his fingers under the housing again, pried gently.
"How in God's green earth do you know this kind of thing?"
"I grew up around reindeer. You pick things up."
"Oh," the ceiling said, a little blankly, then, after another few crashes, "We're going to need that magnet."
Sascha reached up and tapped the switch to full-horse broadcast. "Hey, Helena? We need to retrieve a wrench--grab that kitchen twine from the back of the cupboard and meet me in cargo two."
After turning the system back off, he extracted his fingers from the housing, and went picking through the toolkit until he found a magnet he could detach cleanly.
'Verse/characters: Swallow's Tail; Sascha, Lev Petrovich
Prompt:96D "storm"
Word Count: 369
Notes: expanded from the spark "a sudden loud clatter". Between just your average afternoon riot and heartbeats in the dark; they're a pretty solid 3.
---------
Sascha almost dropped the fine-point welding bit on his foot when the ceiling tried to convince him there'd been a massive ice malfunction and it would shortly be hailing on his head.
He stared up at the ceiling, fully prepared to duck and cover in case his first reaction wasn't wrong, then stood up and sidled carefully over to the access hatch, rapped a knuckle on the dangling ladder.
When nothing happened except a minor repeat of the hailstorm, he called "You all right up there?"
"Festering son of a witch," the Captain growled from overhead, echo from the horse granting him a bit more gravitas than he came by naturally.
Sascha considered that, then exhaled a silent sigh before he started listing "Burn, cut--"
"Dropped the old-man punched wrench and it's out of reach."
'And I just nearly put my shoulder out of socket trying to get at it,' Sascha filled in mentally. Idiot Russian.
He leaned against the ladder, which swayed a little before it held him, shaking his head, half-amused. "See if you can toss it from coil to coil," he suggested, "and if not I'll go find Helena and we'll get a magnet on a string or something."
He stood back up straight, gave the ceiling one more slightly suspicious glance, and then went back to what he'd been working on.
There was a delay from the ceiling, accompanied by a bit of rattling but not the rhythmic bouncing of a coil-driven wrench.
Eventually, the Captain said "Sascha?"
"Yeah?" he replied absently, as he carefully inched his fingers under the housing again, pried gently.
"How in God's green earth do you know this kind of thing?"
"I grew up around reindeer. You pick things up."
"Oh," the ceiling said, a little blankly, then, after another few crashes, "We're going to need that magnet."
Sascha reached up and tapped the switch to full-horse broadcast. "Hey, Helena? We need to retrieve a wrench--grab that kitchen twine from the back of the cupboard and meet me in cargo two."
After turning the system back off, he extracted his fingers from the housing, and went picking through the toolkit until he found a magnet he could detach cleanly.