We'll be sailing to the sun til the voyage is done

[sergeant_slick]

WHO: Slick and Anduin
WHEN: Before the ship arrives.
WHERE: Boat!
WHAT: Slick drops in on Anduin. Also, here's your legally required shanty.
WARNINGS: The dropping in is pretty literal, so... vertigo, maybe?

This wasn't the sort of ship he was used to, but that wasn't stopping him.

Every clone, pilot-trained or not, had to get used to the deck moving under their feet. LAAT-i transports had you standing shoulder to shoulder in a metal box, swinging wildly through the air as the pilots evaded incoming fire. Compared to that? A predictable roll was nothing.

But looking up at the tall masts, he could see why the crew tried to foist lookout duty onto him. The swaying up there was magnified by the height. It'd be rough, but if he sat through a shift without turning green, it'd be easier to get them to stop treating him like a dumb clodhopper. So he'd just given them a confident smirk and started climbing.

That was hours ago. And he'd been right--this sucked. But he'd snuck up a few bits of dried meat to chew on when he needed a pick-me-up, and generally tried to stay relaxed. That kept the nausea under control. Looking down still wasn't fun, but he did so occasionally, just to spectate. Wave down to fellow offworlders he spotted.

...And plan how to show off. The sailors that stuck him up here would be watching to see how unsteady he was, and it was his duty as an army guy to make sure navy knew who was better.

When the whistle sounded for the shift change, he hauled himself out of the crow's nest, ignoring the--what'd they called them? Rattlins? The rope ladder things. Too slow. Too unfamiliar. And boring, when the unknotted ropes in the rest of the rigging gave him a direct line all the way to the bottom of the mast.

He grabbed onto a rope and slid, kicking off the mast when he needed to avoid the unidentifiable boat stuff tied to the mast every few meters. If he'd been barehanded, this would've sent him straight to the medic. But he was still wearing the tough bodyglove from his armor. That let him descend fast and brake hard, hopping off onto one of the cleats and down onto the deck, smiling triumphantly. Nearly turned an ankle, but nobody needed to know that.

"Well, that was alright. Not enough to make me go navy, but alright."

Comments

[chosenbylight]

Anduin has been up on deck, enjoying the fresh ocean air and trying to do his best to help when needed, and stay out of the way when he wasn't. He isn't a sailor by any means of the word, it isn't as though the crew had let him assist on any of the voyages he had taken in such a fashion, but he is fairly strong. And a very capable healer, should any particularly nasty injuries arise.

It's easier to keep your sea legs if you've got your eye on the horizon as well. An old guard had once taught him that trick, and while he can't say that it works quite the same on airships (nor that he's exactly got the luxury of keeping his eye on the horizon when everybody always keeps insisting on stuffing him in the most secure space possible), he's grateful for the man's kindness those many moons ago.

He's doing exactly this as the shift changes -- trying to stay out of the way of the crew -- when a man nearly drops out of the sky right in front of him.

The mast. The crow's nest. He had seen him up there before but he hadn't expected -- well. He supposes in retrospect he'd have to come down sometime.

Anduin tries to calm the rapid beating of his heart as he plasters what he hopes is a convincing enough smile upon his face.

"You did seem to enjoy yourself up there," Anduin observes.