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eachdraidh2014-10-15 06:38 pm
smithwork) wrote in eachdraidh2014-10-15 06:38 pm
( 2ND Snowy Flight — video, both courts )
[ Smoke is seen billowing as the locket's owner shoves a door open, coughing and waving a hand. This is broadcasting from the Station, evidently, with the modern-day look of things behind only mildly scorched around one side of the kitchen. Hiccup himself has since bathed after the journey from Caer Scima and obviously raided the Station's underground storerooms for clean clothes; he wears a bright red hoodie that hangs open over a plain tshirt, which in turn shows he still wears his leathers beneath and his prosthetic. Only the flightsuit is safely stored in his underground bedroom.
He spits a mouthful of sooty grime aside, swiping his weeping eyes as he steps out into the sweet relief of fresh air. ]
To anyone who wants to use the Station's kitchen right now, uh. It's down one 'microwave' and 'freezer'. Not our fault, I might add! Well, improving the freezer could debatably be called a mistake on Jack's part ...
[Behind Hiccup, the winter spirit could be seen approaching, sans wearing his cape which he instead uses to try and wave off the smoke in the air. His normally pristine white shirt is no longer very winter-like at all, darkened and dirtied by all the floating soot most likely. Upon hearing his name, he peeks from behind his accuser, not as cheery as he tends to be.]
Excuse me, Doctor Boom. I was trying to calm down the fire that you started because your science-y senses started tingling and you got, and I quote, "curious". I'd say that my miniature blizzard saved your life.
[ Looking more harassed and frazzled than normal too, a twitch goes in Hiccup's jaw. His pitch heightens, although he attempts to keep his irritation down. ]
There's nothing around here that says you shouldn't put metal objects in the box that heats everything up, you'd think it would make sense and just melt it, if anything.
[Excuses that Jack has heard over and over, prompting the repeated eye roll. Instead of arguing further, he brings up a hand over Hiccup's shoulder to grab the locket, directing his attention to it.]
Point is, because of Mr. Metal Bomb over here, the kitchen's been compromised, so if you wanna roast your meal, you'll have to do it old campfire style outside. Or if you have some things to blow up— [Hiccup gets a nice quick pat on the cheek.] —you can refer to Sir Haddock right here. He's apparently pretty good at that.
[ A very flat expression and folded arms await Jack coming full-circle with his own version of events, and Hiccup rolls his eyes so much that it looks like they might slip right free of his skull. ]
Thank you for summing that up. Pardon me for not understanding everything about electronics within a single afternoon. [ The locket is then, for a third time, turned back his way. ] There is an oven left, it's just the box thing that died, and someone destroyed the frozen food cupboard-whatever. I'm going to be cleaning up the resulting mess all day, if anyone wants to, oh, I don't know, help.
[ The latter is said with a pointed look at a certain winter spirit.
Unexpectedly, lost in their bickeringlike old ladies, the boys have forgotten about the flame-haired (literally, she's still smouldering) teenager in the midst of the kitchen. They both wince near-simultaneously when a thick accent curses loudly, and sporting equally sheepish faces the locket is hastily switched off before Merida can catch them slacking.
Apparently a sixteen-year-old, pissed off Scottish girl with singed hair is a far better incentive for two grown men to clean up their mess than anything else. ]
( OOC: Hic, Jack and Mer are all at the Station if you'd like to dive in with Action, otherwise all three will be chatty on their lockets regarding the big boom from the kitchen today. )
He spits a mouthful of sooty grime aside, swiping his weeping eyes as he steps out into the sweet relief of fresh air. ]
To anyone who wants to use the Station's kitchen right now, uh. It's down one 'microwave' and 'freezer'. Not our fault, I might add! Well, improving the freezer could debatably be called a mistake on Jack's part ...
[Behind Hiccup, the winter spirit could be seen approaching, sans wearing his cape which he instead uses to try and wave off the smoke in the air. His normally pristine white shirt is no longer very winter-like at all, darkened and dirtied by all the floating soot most likely. Upon hearing his name, he peeks from behind his accuser, not as cheery as he tends to be.]
Excuse me, Doctor Boom. I was trying to calm down the fire that you started because your science-y senses started tingling and you got, and I quote, "curious". I'd say that my miniature blizzard saved your life.
[ Looking more harassed and frazzled than normal too, a twitch goes in Hiccup's jaw. His pitch heightens, although he attempts to keep his irritation down. ]
There's nothing around here that says you shouldn't put metal objects in the box that heats everything up, you'd think it would make sense and just melt it, if anything.
[Excuses that Jack has heard over and over, prompting the repeated eye roll. Instead of arguing further, he brings up a hand over Hiccup's shoulder to grab the locket, directing his attention to it.]
Point is, because of Mr. Metal Bomb over here, the kitchen's been compromised, so if you wanna roast your meal, you'll have to do it old campfire style outside. Or if you have some things to blow up— [Hiccup gets a nice quick pat on the cheek.] —you can refer to Sir Haddock right here. He's apparently pretty good at that.
[ A very flat expression and folded arms await Jack coming full-circle with his own version of events, and Hiccup rolls his eyes so much that it looks like they might slip right free of his skull. ]
Thank you for summing that up. Pardon me for not understanding everything about electronics within a single afternoon. [ The locket is then, for a third time, turned back his way. ] There is an oven left, it's just the box thing that died, and someone destroyed the frozen food cupboard-whatever. I'm going to be cleaning up the resulting mess all day, if anyone wants to, oh, I don't know, help.
[ The latter is said with a pointed look at a certain winter spirit.
Unexpectedly, lost in their bickering
Apparently a sixteen-year-old, pissed off Scottish girl with singed hair is a far better incentive for two grown men to clean up their mess than anything else. ]
( OOC: Hic, Jack and Mer are all at the Station if you'd like to dive in with Action, otherwise all three will be chatty on their lockets regarding the big boom from the kitchen today. )
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[ A first!! ]
He isn't here.
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It is, they're everywhere back home. I actually started teaching people how to train them at a Dragon Training Academy and now we have stables, feeding stations, top of the line fire prevention, if I do say so myself, everything a dragon could need. If you don't have a dragon on Berk these days, you're the odd one out.
Me and my friends are dragon-racers. [ Pausing. ] Well, dragon-riders who happen to like racing, really.
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What does that entail, exactly? "Dragon-racing?"
[This is not normal Hic it is terrifying??]
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[ Makes you think you're going to die during freefalls but then oops, nope. Best game!! ]
The sheep are all marked and turned loose. You have to get your dragon to pick as many up as possible and put them in your basket during each lap. The black sheep is worth ten points, it gets released during the last fly-around. You're not supposed to take extra weapons like axes and hammers, even though some people do. [ Snotlout. ] There aren't many rules about attacking the other players, but you have to do it yourself because the dragons are all part of the same flock and don't like to fight each other.
Toothless is the fastest breed of dragon, so I have the most wins. I tend not to play as much anymore so the others can enjoy it.
[ Yeeeeea. ]
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I swear to the gods, I'm telling the truth. When I get Toothless back, I'll show you.
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I think you're laughing at my dragon, buddy.
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Just the Night Furies. Toothless is considered the last of his kind.
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Night Fury, Monstrous Nightmare, Hideous Zippleback, Deadly Nadder, Gronckle ... to name a few. The most recent one that caused us some trouble was the Screaming Death, hold on ...
[ Picking a pen and pad up from the scorched kitchen table, he doodles something that looks like it would be a bitch to have around the home, briefly showing the locket. ]
Now if you see one of those lurking around, just run. That one was a descendant of the Whispering Death, only a thousand times nastier.
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