Da na na na na INSPECT YOUR GADGETS

[tidesnpc]

Characters: Anyone forced into volunteer duty
Content: There's some gadgets, gears, and other goodies in the cargo hold! Lets make sure history doesn't repeat itself, though, okay?
Setting: Serenity's cargo hold
Time: The first night on the voyage from Trewe to Bydan
Warnings: None as of yet

Comments

[son_of_the_lake]

Hisoka knew that cargo, as he had helped load it. Now he was stuck guarding it, as he had stupidly volunteered for a night watch. He had brought along a book, a sandwich, and a hot cup of coffee in a screw-top container. Oh, and his sword. He scrambled up on top of the largest wooden crate, sat crosslegged, and began to eat his sandwich: provolone and Sky Ham.

*munch, munch, and slurrrp*

Hope you don't mind!

[crazywithguns]

Bang had not been so lucky as to volunteer willingly. And since she had also not bothered to volunteer to help load the cargo, she was one of those fortunate enough to be forcibly coerced into doing so.

Not much could coerce Bang if she didn't feel like doing something. But she had been a little bored lately, so ultimately she didn't end up raising too much of a stink. Just enough to keep it interesting.

Now she was sitting on top of the big crate, sharpening her cutlass. It was what she did when she was bored and there wasn't any booze, opium, or people to fight around.

Still, she was Bang, and therefore inclined to let her boredom known to whoever was around to listen. "Why does guard duty have to be so dull?"

Not at all. XD

[son_of_the_lake]

"They make it that way, just to remind us we're peons. How's the cutlass coming along? Is it sharp enough to split a hair with, yet?"

[crazywithguns]

"It always is, doll." Bang did not sharpen her cutlass because it was dull. She did it because it was something to do.

She smirked at her companion. "A good cutlass is like an old friend. Good to stroke every night or so."

[reapingwinds]

Hisagi settled himself against a crate and settled for his shift with Kazeshini across his lap. He'd brought extra steam capsules he'd been meaning to upgrade by tweaking the output for the gas, and what better time to do so during guard duty? Worst case, he can chuck the unfinished capsule at whoever or whatever they were guarding it against.

Pulling his tools out from an inner pocket, he set to work.

I hope this is all right! Feel free to say he knew she was there if he would have.

[causink_trouble]

Jenka's preferred approach to guard duty was to settle somewhere out of sight in the dark and wait. She was good at silent waiting - and things were much more likely to get fun if whoever was interested in sneaking around thought there was nobody to get in their way!

She kept it up for a while up even after Hisagi came in, but eventually curiosity won out.

"Vot hyu doink?" she asked, peering down at him from her place on top of one of the high shelves that weren't currently being used for anything.

MORE then ok! :3

[reapingwinds]

To his credit, Hisagi did not jump at her statement, though he was startled; he wasn't sure if he'd sense anyone else in the hold, and, well, concentrating on the capsules, he was sure no one else had entered after him. Though, knowing Jenka, she probably was there before he's set himself down.

His hands were surprisingly steady even in his shock, and Hisagi finished unscrewing the capsule before turning to face where his crewmate might be. (How had he missed her coming in, anyway?)

"Nothing much. Maintainable, mostly." A shrug. "Figured it'll kill time."

[causink_trouble]

That was not a very informative answer. Jenka frowned down at him and then jumped smoothly and surprisingly quietly to the floor to get a closer look.

"Yah, but vot iz it?"

She agreed with the comment about killing time, at least.

Late, but what the hell.

[surfaceshine]

Dean was remembering why it was he hated nine-to-fives. Not, mind you, that this really qualified as a nine-to-five and not, either, that he wasn't alright with solid work; it's just that it was boring. The ship, he knew, was moving but that hardly counted when the scenery inside stayed the same all the time. And really, since he'd had the best luck lately sleeping in short snatches of catnaps, there was only so much time he could kill dicking around on the network (not like those dicks were answering, anyway - or maybe even could) and plotting how to go about tracking down his asshole father once they landed.

In short, he really should have headed back down to the engine rooms if he was going to head anywhere. Instead he'd grabbed his knife, the Impala, and a cartridge of each of his standard rounds and headed down to the cargo bay. It'd be cooler, anyway, and Dean could always just head back to work on the engines when he got bored.

Nothing like being in two places at once. Is this ok with you?

[son_of_the_lake]

"Hi, Dean!" said Hisoka. "What's with the heat?--nothing's shooting at us down here."

This was by way of a joke, as he himself was armed with a sword, and there was also a revolver in his jacket pocket.

Sure - doppelgangers for the win!

[surfaceshine]

Dean had been poking at his difference engine as he walked into the main area of the cargo bay; not paying much attention to where he was going, he still managed to avoid running into anything, even when Hisoka greeted him. Glancing up, the lopsided grin wasn't far behind.

"Hey, dude!" He glanced down at where the Impala was settled comfortably against his hip, and the grin took on a slyer kind of edge; he patted the wear-smoothed handle absently when he spoke. "You know, just showin' my girl around. She gets lonely if I leave her behind."

His other hand closed the difference engine and slid it away into the worn personal satchel he'd brought specifically for the purpose; glancing at the other three in the bay, he didn't wait to be invited over, but instead picked up his stride purposefully towards Hisoka.

"Did I miss anything yet?" That, too, was a joke. How much freaking trouble could a stack of boxes in the belly of a ship be?

[son_of_the_lake]

Hisoka was no longer sitting on top of the three-foot-tall crate. He approached. "Not much, just some talking cargo," he said, holding out the sack of sandwiches, offering one to Dean.