Participants:
| Scene Title | Caulksuckers |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | That's right. I went there. At least one girl is wet, and has wood between her legs. Just sayin'. |
| Date | April 26, 2011 |
Bannerman's Castle: Dining Hall
The room converted into Bannerman's dining hall, although long and narrow, can accommodate up to one hundred people, but despite the amount of use that it sees, it isn't hooked up to the castle's electrical grid, which means that after dark it's lit up by gas lanterns strategically positioned on the wooden tables with bench-style seating that occupy the space. A giant hearth set into one of its walls provides the hall with additional light and warmth, as well as a place for the castle's residents to convene when it isn't in use during the hours when breakfast and dinner are being taken.
The walls themselves are bare stone with no decoration except for the four windows opposite the fireplace, and these are covered with heavy pieces of plain canvas cloth at night to prevent the light from leaking outside, where it might be visible from the shore or the air. During the day the canvas is pulled back to brighten the room and make the gas lanterns unneccessary, but on mornings and afternoons when the sky is overcast, there is very little to combat the gloom and so the fuel is burned anyway.
With weeks worth of rain, comes inches of water- while the island is relatively safe from assailment from that particular element, things that get hit by the water first are less so. There's been some talk about whether or not to move things from some of the extremities in the basement level. Someone, however, seemed to think they would do fine; for now, they are. The actual problem lies elsewhere, in the dining hall. Using it as a common area is not so rare, and so when the ceiling begins to drip rainwater, there are more complainers than there might be otherwise. There was only one to start with, a steady plop of liquid onto the floor; someone had the sense to put a plastic tub under it, at least. But over the course of hard April showers, a few more have spring up from cracks in stone and minute spaces inside of wooden rafters.
The rafters themselves are thick and strong enough to last against water damage, so the leaks come as less of a disaster until the first one grew in size enough to overflow the tub on the floor. Surprise surprise, people waited until then to actually find someone to fix it. It'll be easier to patch things in the summer, or at least when the rains stop, so for now all that Huruma can do when someone comes knocking for assistance is glare and go off to find the construction caulk.
Incidentally, it takes her a while. Or maybe she is being petulant. A mix, most likely. When the tall woman gets to the dining hall, her first task is to take stock of who else has been brought out to help, one arm curled over plenty of tubed sealant as she passes inside.
She knew the good hair days wouldn't last. The rain put a complete end to that. Rue Lancaster adjusts the position of a bucket under one of the smaller leaks, having just changed out one in danger of filling to capacity, her black hair a mass of frizzed-out curls. Damp and humidity: The enemy of curly-haired girls everywhere. She lifts her blue-eyed gaze when Huruma enters the hall. The woman's presence is sort of difficult to miss.
"Oh, thank goodness. Is that gonna stop the leaks?" Hopeful, Rue peers between sealant, and ceiling. Completely unwilling to engage in any acts of doubt.
The perpetual helper, Liza, is one of the few sitting around in the dining hall. Head resting on her hands, elbows resting on the table as she stares across it at the bucket. It's dripping into it, and the blonde just seems fascinated by the sound of the drips. She looks up as she hears voices. Oh! People. Right. "We'll fix things!"
There is a certain self-assuredness that Huruma always carries around like a heavy sack; even if she doesn't know entirely what she is doing, it can't be that complicated. Truth is, she spent the time walking up rereading the directions on the labels and making a pitstop to grab a wooden spoon. Why she has a wooden spoon in her other hand is probably a mystery to anyone that doesn't know what she's up to, though it also looks rather menacing when put in her hand.
"It should. That is why we have it." Huruma jostles her way over to put the tubes onto the table near Liza, stuffing the spoon into the front of her jeans to keep. Totally menacing, sure. "If it does not work we will be in a pickle." She purses her lips and looks askance to Rue, almost doubletaking at the girl's curly hair. Goodness.
The dark woman then tilts her chin up to survey the rafters, then down to the tables, before she kicks off her boots and steps up onto the one she is standing beside. It's not holding her that she thinks might pose an issue, it's the fact that the rafters are more slippery than she might like.
Rue follows the suspected path of movement Huruma will take to get up to the rafters. "Do… Would you like me to climb up there? You'd make a better spotter than I would. If I fell, I have faith you'd catch me. If you fell, I have faith I'd try to catch you, but just wind up crushed." Sad, but true.
A look is spared to Liza, who may have even more enthusiasm for this adventure task than even Rue. "Unless you've got a suggestion?"
"You've got to have ropes, or cables. A safety line! I dunno how to do it other than that. I've never done construction before!" Liza peers up towards the ceiling. "I don't think we're really useful for breaking anyone's fall…" She looks to Huruma. "So what's the plan?"
Oh. Huruma doesn't let Rue get much of a look at her expression here, rather facing her with as nonplussed a face as one can muster when faced with a clearcut "Touche." As much as Huruma likes to do things herself, she can't fight this one, and hops reluctantly back down onto the floor, taking the spoon from her waistband and handing it to Rue. "You've got to smooth it with something." Hence the spoonblade.
"As long as you can straddle something, you can get up there. Th'kids that can climb walls and things go up too." That part's for Liza's bit about cables. Does it look like they have cables and safety lines? "Get on up there, if you need a push I can do that.. I will pass you th'c-" Screeching halt. "Sealant."
Rue takes the spoon, tucking it into the back of her pants as she climbs the table in Huruma's place, gets upon sneaker'd tip-toe and reeeeeaches for the rafters. "A little bit of a boost would be a big help. I could probably jump and reach it…" But she could also probably jump, not get a good grip on the crossbeam, and come crashing down on the table and ruin that. And she'd feel immensely guilty if she ruined one of the tables.
"Four eyes are better than two, Liza." If they both keep an eye on Rue, it will be less likely that she will knock herself out of the rafters or anything like that. Huruma puts herself back on the table, and though the wood is sturdy enough, the surface gives an initial wobble. She links her fingers and puts her hands down for one of Rue's feet. "Don'let me vault you right over it." That's a joke, see, she's even smirking. She's not going to. Honest.
"I'll be sure to tell everybody if you do," Rue replies with a sly grin. Fitting her foot into the grip of Huruma's hands, she then looks up and nods. "Okay! Here goes!" Deep breath, and…
Jump!
"Don'tdiedon'tdiedon'tdie…" Liza mutters, eyes widening as she watches Rue go up towards the rafters. "Okay, I'm glad that's not me up there…" She takes a step back so she can get a better view of the leak. "Ooookay! Let's do this!"
Huruma is being truthful, she doesn't just vault Rue into the rafters; but it still kind of feels like doing that first bounce on a trampoline, she puts Rue up easily enough, giving the girl some room to maneuver herself without needing to worry about liftoff.
"Get situated an'tell me when t'toss this gun up. It is self explanatory, but feel free to read over th'back if you need to." Huruma instructs, leaning over and picking up one of the caulking guns to make it ready.
"Whhh—aaaah!" Rue scrables for purchase on an beam, slinging her weight around it until she's got- Escaping this situation without a double entendre is going to be difficult.
Perch established, Rue shifts to one side and reaches back down carefully. "All right! Super Rue to the rescue! Pass 'er up!" Grabbyhands.
"You aren't allowed to fall, okay? I'm just saying, I'm tired of watching over friends in the infirmary. It's exhausting work," Liza murmurs, letting Huruma hand up the fix-it guns. "Alright, I have a good view of where it's leaking from whenever you're ready."
"Don'you need a cape for that?" Huruma puts on a dubious look, one brow lifted and her voice equally so. She waits for Rue's grabbyhands before giving the gun a small heft into the air above her, and it comes up quite gracefully pitched. "Keep your ankles tucked, it helps your balance."
"Capes just get caught in things. I've read The Watchmen. I don't wanna get stuck in a door and gunned down by robbers." Rue only fumbles the gun for a second before she gets it firmly in her grasp. "Okay!" She strikes a pose like a gunslinger. But with… home improvement stuff.
Shimmying along the beam, Rue makes for one of the smaller spots that need patching, figuring it's best to practise her technique on a trickle. "If my auntie could see me now…" Dark head shakes and she starts applying the sealant. "She'd probably set my pants on fire for fun, actually."
"You don't need a cape to be super. Or a hero," Liza blinks a little up at Rue, then laughs a little bit. "I guess it must be nice to have family, huh?" Yep. She must be crazy. Or have a strange idea of family. Or both. Probably both.
"What?" Huruma narrows her eyes in question, stepping down and wondering what in the hell Rue was talking about. She probably won't find out, but. She takes up a post hovering below where Rue edges to, watching like a hawk. The last thing she needs is someone yelling at her because she let a young person go spidering up into the ceiling to fix drippy holes.
"That is terrible. Why would she set you on fire?" Not that Huruma can talk, ie, terrible relatives. Small talk is easier.
"I have the best family," Rue agrees with Liza, a grin on her face as she switches gun for spoon and starts spreading the quick-fix. "And she wouldn't set me on fire." Her shoulders come up in a shrug and chances a look down to Huruma briefly. "Just my pants."
The Lancaster clan is a bit of a strange bunch, and Rue's probably the worst of 'em. "And probably not while I'm up here, actually." She falls quiet under the guise of concentration. In truth, she misses her family and it's given her pause. "What about you?" she asks with a touch less enthusiasm to her voice, but no less volume. "You really don't have any family, Liza?"
"I'm a little afraid to ask if it was on purpose or an accident," Liza says, though she blinks a little bit at the question. Oh. Uh. "No, I don't really have anyone anymore. My mom had an aneurism when I was little and so my dad raised me, but he died in the field while he was working for the Company, and then the only other person I considered family died when the Company was raided, making sure I got out okay. So really, you guys are my new family, I guess." She clears her throat a little bit, peering up towards the ceiling. A drop of water hits her square in the forehead. Blinkblink.
Huruma knows this is potentially treacherous territory, and she centers a small glower to Rue's backside in lieu of actually saying anything. This was supposed to be handyman time. Her attention draws away from Rue for a moment to level at Liza when she explains, and as a kneejerk reaction, Huruma feels up the girl's mood as boldly as John Logan in a shady grindhouse. That is to say, she does not think twice about it.
"I hope we are sufficient as one, then." Huruma finally says, somber enough to not dampen Liza's effervescent self.
Rue's eyes squeeze shut. Shit. What a dumb fucking question to ask. "I'm sorry," she murmurs loud enough for her voice to carry. Satisfied with her work on the first leak, the girl begins to cautiously work her way toward the next one. She had to pull herself into a bit of an awkward lean to apply the caulk, but she doesn't look in danger of falling, at least.
"Makes us sisters then," is the cheerful attempt at recovery from the natural ginger. "Family isn't all about blood anyway. The family you choose can be just as important," Rue adds after Huruma. "Even better, maybe."
There's an ever-present loneliness in Liza that always seems to be somewhere just below the surface, but it's not usually so close to the top. There's a good mask of hope, though, to overcome it. She isn't sad because she hopes that something might get better. The usual loneliness is particularly stinging, but the blonde is used to pushing it back down. She smiles brightly up at Rue.
"Definitely. The Company was my family for a while, after my dad. Gotta pick yourself up again when you fall, right? When you can't run, you crawl, and when you can't crawl… you find someone to carry you," the petite blonde rocks on her heels and looks up at Rue, then at Huruma. "And you guys are a pretty kickass family, if you ask me."
Huruma feels herself being quite relieved by Liza's hopefulness; she would actually hate it if the girl had been emotionally elsewhere while telling them those things- crucial things come to the surface at times like those. This only means that what they see in Liza is what they get. Of anyone, it would be the most disappointing otherwise.
"I quite like that notion, Liza." Huruma virtually murmurs her assent, but it is loud enough that the girls in the empty dining hall can hear her well over the pitter-patter of rain dripping. She offers Liza a warmer smile than before. "I am honored t'be considered part of your new kickass family."
It's all about kicking ass and taking names- only somewhat literally, of course.