Draft Log #3: During v. 2.0

[lucetimods]

Who: Everyone on the draft
What: Day 3-5
When: August 27th-August 29th
Where: ONCE MORE INTO THE-- ...BEACH
Summary: Like it says above. The draftees reach the beach.
Rating: V FOR VIOLENT BEHAVIOUR!!

Once again, That Handy Useful Information Link. Also a link to the previous draft log!

Comments

actually let's make this days 4 & 5

[slaying]

[ ever thankful to have her feet back on the ground, buffy will be making up for lost aggro-time on the ships by defending the injured and the camped out with as much flair as she can muster -- if you're looking for someone to fight back-to-back with or perhaps someone to be saved by? look no further. one tiny blonde at your service.

alternatively, come the night? she'll be checking in with those she knows and cares for and loves; concern and responsibility duking it out with wry good humour. the slayer's at war. ]

Day 5

[consultmybooks]

[Giles looks around, one hand still pressed to a freshly bleeding...albeit healing...wound on his arm, when he hears the soft approach of footsteps. It only takes a few seconds of listening for him to identify the one approaching - once he has, Giles reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out the thermos of tea that's been keeping his chest warm for a while.]

[slaying]

[ when she sees the familiar figure, she lowers her scythe. ]

Hi. Top of the evening to you.

[consultmybooks]

And to you.

How are holding up so far?

Day 3

[truthget]

[It's like the Third Party soldiers sent out some kind of intel. "Short blond kid? He has metal limbs. Throw him overboard." So they had. Repeatedly. And he was getting really, really tired of it. Seriously, how many times does one have to be rescued from a watery grave before one's dignity is shot completely to hell?

Not enough times, it seems, because in the middle of the unpleasantly stormy weather, as the ships draw closer to their destination, Edward is flung over the side of the ship with no one around to save him. Which is great, just great. Now he's going to drown, right?

...Nope. The Zora tunic Link had offered him works like a charm, allowing him to breathe freely while he's on the way down. That's the downside, however- he's on the way down. Sinking like a stone right to the bottom of the ocean. And, as he squints up towards the pale light of the surface, watching the shadow of the boat float away without him, an uncomfortable thought enters his mind: he is going to have to walk. Yes, walk. To the shore. The shore that is

[lostinmyway]

[In the middle of carrying a box…somewhere, Grune hears a strange sound. Locating its source, she doesn't so much as blink. Maybe small, cranky-looking boys walk out of the water here all the time.

Cheerfully, she calls out:] Hello! Are you here to help, too?

[truthget]

[Oh geez, and someone was watching him? Seriously? That's just his luck...]

...Yeah, looks that way.

[lostinmyway]

Oh, thank you! Maybe we can work together for a little while.

any day, but initially when the storm arrives on Day 3?

[temperedtempest]

[Ororo had felt the beginnings of a fierce storm the night before, and she'd been unable to sleep. So as soon as it hit, she was there to meet it - keeping the worst of it from affecting their own ships, doing her best to dissipate the fiercest of winds before they damage anything permanently/threw too many people overboard.]

[Later on in the day, when the storm has built up enough and Ororo's patience is starting to wear thin in dealing with thunderbolts that don't do enough damage, she'll decide enough is enough. Palms outstretched and hair floating in the static gathering in the air, her eyes glow a blinding white as she focuses her powers...]

[If anyone is paying attention, there is an ominous columnar vortex beginning to form between the surface of the water and the storm clouds above. It's contained enough so that only Third Party soldiers are getting sucked into it, hopefully other draftees get the idea and somehow send any soldiers they're having trouble with over her way

Day 3

[frost_jewel]

[Mia had been watching the white-haired woman for some time. She had command of the weather - wind and lightning and rain - but to an extent that Ivan and Sheba might never have. It's beautiful, and powerful, and Mia is glad this woman is on her side of this business.

And so when two attackers come towards her, taking advantage of her concentration and lack of awareness, it's the least Mia can do to give them a surprise of their own. An Ice Horn, to lessen the risk of hitting Ororo but maximize the chances of knocking away those soldiers.]

[temperedtempest]

[The soldiers drop a few feet, but as formidable as they are, they're relentless in their attack. But! The disturbance is enough to alert Ororo to the soldiers' presence, at least. Her attention divided, she manages to only summon a gust of wind to blow them steadily away, in the direction of her gathering waterspout. She would've struck them down with lightning, but with the continuing storm and her contained tornado, Ororo is having some trouble focusing on all the things!]

[frost_jewel]

[A different attack - Cyclone - will carry those soldiers right into her tornado. Mia is perfectly okay with playing keep-the-enemies-away for this weather woman.]

Any day, mostly ship A (the Endurance)

[noprevaricating]

[THERE ARE NO BLASTED RAINCOATS ON THIS SHIP!

Early in the morning on day 3, Archie is scrambling to help everyone shorten sail. The sun isn't even up and it's a race against time before the storm gets here. And hurrying means slipping is more likely, so he's having to accomplish this very delicately.

Later, he'll be leading a boarding party to take a large enemy ship.

For the rest of the draft, he'll be almost exclusively on Hornblower's ship, unless he's leading an attack on shore or another, less ambitious boarding. At night, he'll mostly be doing his thing of staring out to sea when he's not on watch or sleeping. Feel free to bug him, ask him questions, save his life, what have you.]

Day 3, early morning

[seventeensir]

[Horatio Hornblower intensely dislikes one particular thing about being so short-handed.

He is on a yardarm, precariously balancing on a footrope and helping to reef the sails. Every breath comes hard, and his is determinedly tying a knot around one section of the sail to keep it up. He's only on the mainsail of this mast, and already he is very aware of the height. And the possible fall.

But he steps over to the next footrope and hauls up sail there as well, glancing every so often at the other mast, where Archie and others are hard at work. Thank God, at least, neither of them are shortening sail alone. There is crew enough to help, even if Horatio would prefer quite a few more.]

[noprevaricating]

[It's hard work, but it could be worse. This is a straightforward task, at least, and no enemies are in sight.

After securing a knot, he raises his chin and calls out:]

I remember when you used to be SCARED of heights, Captain Hornblower!

[seventeensir]

[Can you feel the glare and muttered cursing, Archie? Horatio certainly hopes you can.

But he does not answer what he would like, not since it would involve shouting. He will not let those under his command know that he is, in fact, quite afraid in his current position. They look to him for strength. That is part of his job. He will not give them cause to doubt him.

What he calls back-- after checking his footing and moving to the tie-- is:]

I do as my duty requires, Mr. Kennedy!

Any Day

[lists_to_port]

[Jack Sparrow has (surprisingly) reluctantly relinquished his commission as First Mate aboard Beckett's Mum. He has successfully led a hijacking mission and commandeered an airship, which he has christened the Elizabeth. And now he is captaining that airship as rearguard, defending the cargo vessel from behind

day 3; /ಠ_ಠ

[slaying]

Buffy was already on the beach when she saw the airship catch fire. Her scythe was hard stuck in the shoulder of a dying Third Party soldier but when the blaze caught her eye, she snapped her head seawards. Forget the fight -- how's Jack? It gave her enemy a chance -- a second to grapple with the Slayer's grip and haul her hard upon the sand. "N-no..." She choked. She buried her knee in his gut and freed her blade. Hot blood hit the sand but Buffy wasn't watching it. She was watching that captured enemy ship and remembering the tiny burst of hope she had felt when she saw the cheeky makeshift flag it had flown once Jack had taken it

XD

[lists_to_port]

Hours later, and the cool of evening was a blessing to the man lying in the medical camp. He stirred and woke up after the sun went down, confused as to why he was lying in a white tent with forest smells and sounds filtering in. The last things Jack Sparrow could remember were flames and deafening noise and screaming.

The Elizabeth.

"Bugger," Jack mumbled. He tried to move and then realized that both arms, his chest, his head, and one of his legs were heavily bandaged. The tent smelled like medicine and disinfectant. There was a slow dripping IV hooked into his arm, supplying some sort of not-rum fluid to his body. There was no pain, mercifully; just an itch on the end of his nose that Jack Sparrow could not scratch.

[slaying]

Get the bandages and get gone. That's all she wanted. Find a quiet little corner and maybe a kind passer-by to help her wrap it around her ribs where the worst of the wound was and then let herself get better. She didn't dare seek out and ask McCoy directly; he might make her stay here, she thought. And she didn't want to be here. She wanted to be out and cracking skulls.

And that poor soul seemed covered in bandages, she thought. So Buffy crouched at the foot of Jack's bed -- Jack that she did not know was Jack -- and began pawing loudly through a small box of supplies. Gauze. Ointment. Little metal things to keep the bandages in place.