Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die:

[all7seas]

Who: noprevaricating, hippocraticly, lists_to_port
What: Two Eighteenth-century Sailors and the Tractor That Didn't Love Them. And McCoy, covering his eyes.
When: Day 1 of the Draft; after this.
Where: A farm near the battlefield, and its surrounds.
Summary: Jack and Archie have decided to tend to matters of war, in spite of difficulties caused by shifting irregularities.
Rating: Jim Varney wearing John Goodman's trousers and Jed Clampett's hat.



The first thing Jack Sparrow noticed after being transported to the battlefield with the rest was what amounted to excruciating pain in his right arm.

His sword arm.

It dangled from his shoulder, badly broken and useless. And pink.

On his knees in a pile of dusty straw, Jack inspected the damage, and found it very bad indeed; he found he could not feel the fingers on his right hand at all. Clutching the useless limb to his chest, he looked about. "KENNEDY! BONES!" Where were they in this chaos?

...

And why was he COMPLETELY PINK?

Comments

[simplestgift]

Apparently this entire "drop site" theory had not been perfected. Archie was several yards away from Jack and on his feet. He was also a stunning, perfect shade of periwinkle. Spying the pirate, he ran toward him.

"Jack!" He blinked. "Why are you pink?"

[all7seas]

"Kennedy!" Jack groaned as he turned toward the other man. "Nevermind that now, my...my arm."

From not far off he could hear the shouts of enemy fighters, but a cursory glance around revealed that, apart from himself and Archie, there was no one else from their side. Not good.

[simplestgift]

"Hold still!" Kennedy glanced nervously toward the sound of their enemies, then peered at Jack's arm. "Yeh, that's broken all right." Glancing around for the doctor...no, McCoy was nowhere in sight. "I'll have to set it for you. You'd best lie down."

THANK YOU KYRA

[all7seas]

Jack had broken his leg, once, while serving on the White Bear as a lad. It had happened quickly: a clean break, and a thirteen year old boy trying not to cry, being slapped on the back and handed a share of grog while the ship's cook smoked his pipe and forced the bone back into place. This injury hurt more; he was fairly certain the bones were broken in more than one place. But what was of greater concern was the sound of their enemies, winged soldiers who would easily spot Kennedy tending an injury in the middle of this... Farmyard. A small shed, which might have held tools or saddlery, huddled against a grassy hill nearby. "Aye, you will---in there." The pirate stood and stumbled toward the building, trusting the younger sailor to follow him. Leadership: running away with your own gravitational pull.

AND KYRA'S PARADISA MODS

[simplestgift]

Kennedy took off toward the shed a little faster than Jack, glancing toward the sounds of the winged creatures. They didn't seem to be spotted yet. Arriving at the door, he yanked it open for the impaired pirate, the crisis shifting him into lieutenant mode. "In."

[all7seas]

Jack Sparrow slipped inside, taking a good look at their surroundings. Calculating as always, in spite of the pain. It was apparent that somehow the two men had stumbled upon a disused Malnosso abattoir. Blades of different sizes, shapes, and stages of rustyness hung on the walls and swung from the ceiling in wicked rows. A wooden table with curious old stains on it stood in a corner. And, off in the back, a shadowy shape lurked under an old piece of filthy canvas. "Well. A bit friendlier than expected, isn't it," he observed cheerlessly, turning back to Kennedy. "They didn't see us, did they."

[simplestgift]

Archie shook his head, quickly bolting the door behind them. "No." He was almost on auto-pilot, his hand seizing a nearby hatchet handle long deprived of its head. It was just narrow enough to work. He turned to face the pirate, holding the handle level with Jack's mouth. "None that I saw, at least. We have to hurry."

[all7seas]

"Hatchet handle."

[simplestgift]

"To bite on, you fool." They didn't have time for this. "Take it and lie down."

[all7seas]

Jack decided not to go into EVERYTHING THAT WAS WRONG WITH WHAT KENNEDY JUST SAID in favor of pointing out how filthy said handle was and how it wasn't going anywhere near his mouth. "That filthy thing is not going anywhere near me mouth, son." He clumsily pulled out a flask, uncorking it with his teeth and taking a huge swallow. Then another. And another. This done, he drew a dagger from his side and, selecting a not-so-mucky spot on the floor, did as the lieutenant asked--the blade of the dagger, not the handle, went between his teeth. "Do ur urst."

[simplestgift]

"As long as you're not screaming and giving away our position." He glared at the dagger between the man's teeth. "You're going to cut your mouth."

[all7seas]

The pirate glared at the younger man, removing the knife just long enough to make a point. "If you don't do it now, son, I'll do it myself."

[simplestgift]

Fine. If Jack was going to be an idiot, he'd let him. So Archie knelt by the older man and lifted the arm carefully, trying to look like he knew what he was doing. Yes, the arm was broken in at least two places. His eyes closed briefly as he tried to gather himself. He'd seen this done before, and done it once in the field with a simpler fracture. So after the briefest of pauses, he simply hoped for the best and did it.

1/?

[all7seas]

Mmmmmmph!

[all7seas]

[all7seas]

Bugger Bugger BUGGER BUGGER bugger...

/keywords

[all7seas]

"Right. Bind it. Quick-like." The corner of Jack's mouth bled slightly; his breathing was rapid, shallow. And there were the sounds of approaching enemies not far away.

[simplestgift]

Kennedy was already on it, using a knife to shred a canvas tarp into a sling. He placed the injured arm gently across Jack's chest and took both ends of the sling in his hands. "Sit up," he said in a no-nonsense tone.

[all7seas]

Jack did as directed. While Kennedy worked, his mind trod the rather rocky path of What Next. "How many would you say were out there, Kennedy?"

[simplestgift]

Kennedy basically had to hug Jack to tie the sling around him, and at such close quarters, Jack would be able to feel the lieutenant's hands shaking. The trickiest part was working around the black wings. "I reckon I counted seven or eight pairs of wings out there." He moved behind Jack now that the canvas was wrapped around him, trying to work out how to circumvent the wings. Going under them would provide the least amount of pressure, so under it was, and he tied the knot behind the pirate's shoulder. "We could hold them off in here better than in the open. They can't come in but one at a time. If we're quick enough, we can cut them down at the door. Only trouble is there's no way out except the door they'd be coming in."

[all7seas]

The pirate grunted as Kennedy tied his knot, but there was some relief once the sling was in place. Ordinarily he would make some remark about the closeness but this was not the time nor place. He got to his feet, drawing his pistol in his left hand. Jack wasn't left-handed but he was capable enough to fight with it at need. The arm throbbed. "Then we might hold out for some time---but not forever, Kennedy. Not forever."

[simplestgift]

Kennedy ground his teeth a little--one of those bad nervous habits. "What I wouldn't give for a few muskets. We could stand on the roof and pick them off at our leisure." He rose to his feet and drew his sword. "We could also do a quick hit-and-run. As far as I know, they didn't see us go in. We could ambush them, take down a couple, then retreat."

[all7seas]

"Good ideas all, lad," Jack said approvingly. He peered closer at the sailor. "You're a rather effete shade of blue, you know."

[simplestgift]

Archie glanced down at one hand. "You're a rather vivacious shade of pink." It was a lame enough comeback--in the 18th century, Archie's purply-blue color would have been considered the more effeminate. "What's to be our course of action, Captain?"

[all7seas]

The pirate began to pace slowly, tapping the pistol's barrel against his shoulder. "You're a fair shot, I'm a fair shot; you're decent with a sword, I'm exceptionally good but handicapped by this damned arm. We've more blades here than we could ever use, unless we build some sort of trap..." He glanced at the strange bulky object at the back of the building. "What's that?"