derpy original whatever for moonsheen
whee have to go to bed in 30 minutes. for moonsheen, because I'm feeling like writing and if I can just get out a few words of this I'll be happier.
The skimmer was not a work of art, but she was very unique. Karlin beamed at the judge clerk when he came round to survey the craft, clipboard braced against his ribs and wooden-heeled shoes clunking importantly on the dock. His default expression seemed to be a critically raised eyebrow, but when the other rose to join the first Karlin's smile twitched.
"Youth entry number ten, are we?" The clerk asked after several moments too long.
"Yes, sir," Karlin nodded, and held out the sheaf of entry papers. Three had been rendered unreadable by spilled machine oil, but Karlin stretched up to point out signatures: "There's the pilot's - that's me - and the mechanic's, and the certificate of safety - she meets the weight class and everything."
The clerk eyed the skimmer in a distrustful manner, and gingerly took the papers from Karlin's hand with a thumb and forefinger. "... I see we have already signed the disclaimer, young man? I trust you could read it?" He slapped the papers down on his clipboard and sighed in relief when he hid the paperwork with a crisp sheet.
Karlin readjusted the straps of his overalls self-consciously and slapped gloved hands on his thighs; neither article of clothing looked as if it had seen nor heard of soap in its entire lifetime. Karlin himself was not much better, cheeks smudged and newsboy cap holding down unruly curls that frizzed away from his face. "'Course I could," he blustered. "Basically says if I get someone keeled I pay for it, if I die nobuddy can blame ya for it, yeah?"
The clerk tugged halfheartedly at the safety harness straps and chains. "Seems to be in order," he said faintly, scratching at the paper, then viciously stabbing it with his fountain pen until a spatter of ink popped free and left a splotch of black, ruining a line of neat check-marks in other safety check-boxes. "Ach, no!"
Karlin watched all this from just behind the stern with an earnest expression. "Can I fly 'er?" he asked, all beaming hope.
The clerk frantically dabbed at the paper with a handkerchief. "Bad luck, bad luck," he mumbled to himself. He glanced at Karlin distractedly. "Yes, yes, fly away - godspeed, good luck, whatnot--!" and with that he was clomping down the deck, sounding like an angry woman with the sound his heels made.
Karlin's hopeful beam darkened and widened into a full-blown smirk, and he swooned dramatically against his craft. "Finally! Took long enough," he grumbled, slumped against too-new gleaming wood and sun-warmed metal. "Better let the boys know," he announced.
not really tbc
I need to work on Karlin's personality, flesh this out better. Long story or short story? Love interest? Etc? Also, giveaway lines: they rock.
The skimmer was not a work of art, but she was very unique. Karlin beamed at the judge clerk when he came round to survey the craft, clipboard braced against his ribs and wooden-heeled shoes clunking importantly on the dock. His default expression seemed to be a critically raised eyebrow, but when the other rose to join the first Karlin's smile twitched.
"Youth entry number ten, are we?" The clerk asked after several moments too long.
"Yes, sir," Karlin nodded, and held out the sheaf of entry papers. Three had been rendered unreadable by spilled machine oil, but Karlin stretched up to point out signatures: "There's the pilot's - that's me - and the mechanic's, and the certificate of safety - she meets the weight class and everything."
The clerk eyed the skimmer in a distrustful manner, and gingerly took the papers from Karlin's hand with a thumb and forefinger. "... I see we have already signed the disclaimer, young man? I trust you could read it?" He slapped the papers down on his clipboard and sighed in relief when he hid the paperwork with a crisp sheet.
Karlin readjusted the straps of his overalls self-consciously and slapped gloved hands on his thighs; neither article of clothing looked as if it had seen nor heard of soap in its entire lifetime. Karlin himself was not much better, cheeks smudged and newsboy cap holding down unruly curls that frizzed away from his face. "'Course I could," he blustered. "Basically says if I get someone keeled I pay for it, if I die nobuddy can blame ya for it, yeah?"
The clerk tugged halfheartedly at the safety harness straps and chains. "Seems to be in order," he said faintly, scratching at the paper, then viciously stabbing it with his fountain pen until a spatter of ink popped free and left a splotch of black, ruining a line of neat check-marks in other safety check-boxes. "Ach, no!"
Karlin watched all this from just behind the stern with an earnest expression. "Can I fly 'er?" he asked, all beaming hope.
The clerk frantically dabbed at the paper with a handkerchief. "Bad luck, bad luck," he mumbled to himself. He glanced at Karlin distractedly. "Yes, yes, fly away - godspeed, good luck, whatnot--!" and with that he was clomping down the deck, sounding like an angry woman with the sound his heels made.
Karlin's hopeful beam darkened and widened into a full-blown smirk, and he swooned dramatically against his craft. "Finally! Took long enough," he grumbled, slumped against too-new gleaming wood and sun-warmed metal. "Better let the boys know," he announced.
not really tbc
I need to work on Karlin's personality, flesh this out better. Long story or short story? Love interest? Etc? Also, giveaway lines: they rock.