2024-11-20 - Knights of WD-40

While the River Village in all it's medieval splendor might not seem the natural place to find Elijah Jones when he's off duty as the Dread Pirate Blackwood, in hindsight? It's no surprise he'd choose to wander the streets. His background is Ren Fairs, after all, and his roommate works as a fortune teller at the Village. Dressed in wranglers, boots, and a button up in the red-and-black of buffalo plaid. He's even got a baseball cap on, helping him be incognito from any drunken Karens or other forms of fans that might want to approach.

He's currently leaning against a fence watching two of the knights 'spar', his blue eyes critical as he breaks apart the fighting and shakes his head ruefully. "He's leadin' with his right elbow." He sighs to no one in particular, "An' his footwork's sloppy."

It would be easy enough to not really notice that Chase is there. Not that she’s not noticeable, but more the fact that she’s half-hidden behind a power juncture that’s disguised as an oaken barrel. The bushes on either side of the unit, along with the fencing, keeps the illusion from being spoiled and helps with the immersion.

She’s dressed in her usual work coveralls in a dark blue shade with a ball cap that reads “Maintenance” beneath the Spellbound logo. Her dark brown hair (currently highlighted a bright purple in various places, is securely tucked beneath the head covering.

Pinching a burnt fuse between her fingers she wiggles it back and forth in an attempt to get it free without giving herself a 220 volt perm. The darned thing finally pops free just as Elijah makes his comment on the knight’s form.

“He’s swinging too high as well,” she says, leaning around the barrel so the pirate doesn’t get spooked by a disembodied voice. “Must be one of the newbs.”

"Tighten up the footwork, an' keep t' elbow loosey goosey an' don't lock it, that'll take care of the high swing." Elijah says critically, not the least bit startled by the sudden and unexpected, disembodied voice from behind the barrel. It's partially good ol' Texan stoicism at play, but also a bit of something else. Training? The way she made sure to peek out?

Or magic?

"'S not terrible but the two o' them need t' work on their choreography." His drawl is thick and Texan, and he bumps the brim of his hat back with a knuckle and squints against the sunliught. "I see German footwork an' an Italian grip. German's t' right choice fer t' armor, but the Italian grip's a little too loose for t' weight o' his sword. Probably studied HEMA, an' never fought in a melee or mixed styles."

He shakes his head sadly, as if he's not mad just disappointed, and cuts his eyes over to Chase. "Against the guests, he's probably fine. But I'd thrash'm, even with just boffer swords."

“I wonder if they’re going less for realism and more for the clang of metal on metal? You know, to entertain the masses?” Her own accent carries a Southern twang as well. Albeit one that isn’t nearly as drawn out as his Texas one. Hers is more Southeast than Southern.

She vanishes for a second back behind the barrel, snaps the new, non-damaged fuse into place, then closes the hatch before standing. The hum that begins emanating from the power relay is barely noticeable, but definitely more noticeable than the silence that it had been emanating.

Dropping the spent unit into the side pocket of her bag, she moves to stand next to Elijah, leaning on the fence as well.

“Maybe you should go show them how it’s done. Swashbuckling is swashbuckling, right?” She grins with amusement. “Though I imagine it’s easier to do fancy footwork in leather boots and loose pants than a suit of armor.”

The less familiar French accent interjects with a beer in one hand and soft pretzel in the other. "We say this but we are not the ones wearing a Buick Riviera for 8 hours." Today instead of being dressed as an undertaker in gaunt makeup Jack seems to be making a day of it as a pedestrian. Pretzel gesturing he says, "History is mean. You know they are going for the story of it." Genuinely curious he asks, "Anyone make themselves unscripted part of the show yet?" The off-duty pirate and Ms. Maintenance getting a nod of greeting there.

"Properly fitted, they shouldn't have an issues." Elijah shrugs one shoulder, "I've fought in armor before at Faires, when t' Knights're too drunk or sick t' fight. I mean, t' issues I'm seein' are with the choreography an' form, not t' stamina or shit." He chuckles, and wrinkles his nose as he considers the two 'knight's' sparring together.

He nods at Jack when the Francophone puts his two cents in, grimacing slightly, "No unscripted editions. Think there's talk o' them takin' challengers here in a bit with boffer, which is what they're warmin' up for." He pauses, and tugs the visor of his hat back into place to shield his eyes as he squints, "Might pitch a pirate invasion or somethin', see if that menace Cap'n Cashew wants t' raid the Village."

Chase doesn’t stop leaning against the fence when Jack arrives. Though he does get a little salute of acknowledgment. “Couldn’t pay me enough to get into one of those tin cans. Sword or no sword. I can crawl around inside the tunnels day and night, but the thought of wearing a full suit of armor makes me claustrophobic as hell.”

A head shake is given at the suggestion of stepping into the scene as an impromptu actor. “I’m fine standing here watching.” Her eyes cut over at Elijah, followed by a smirk. “Are you saying there’s no difference in sparring in a suit of plate mail and while wearing leggings and a tunic? None at all?”

“Oh? Well if Cap’n Cashew is going to go all Black Sails on the medieval village, I might stick around longer.” She gestures at the huts and shops around them. “Surely something around here needs fixing or tuning, right? No need to hurry onto the next item on the list.”

Jack seems content to watch the exhibition as he has food and drink and zero intention of reporting for work before 7pm. He might have just woken up given how late the Boo'dwalk crew can work. As the only dueling he does is musically he has no opinion on the performers outside of his comment of it being exhaustingly heavy looking.

Looking to Chase an amused grin brightens his face, "That man squeaks. Find the WD-40! I heard em." Head tilting he tells her, "hundreds of little things all the time breaking, enjoy the time we can be still. No hurries today. Hurry tomorrow."

Looking back to Elijah he says mournfully, "A shame that piano weighs like eighty thousand kilos. Just follow you around making bass tippy toe noises. What is your today plan, man?"

"'Course it makes a difference bein' in armor versus street clothes. I ain't dumb, even if I'm an uneducated hick." He cocks his head as he watches the two men fight. They're impressive looking for sure, but the fight is slow, hesitant.

"Little too much like work f' my day off." Elijah adds, regarding the possibility of jumping in as he is. His brow furrows as he considers the two men, and continues, "Plus, little rude t' go into someone else's show an' show them up. Might offer t' work with'm individually, though." He chuckles, "'Specially t' big feller. He's kinda cute under the armor."

He laughs at Jack's mournful tone, and shrugs one shoulder. "Day off, an' I figured I'd see what's goin' on. My roommie does fortune-tellin' and tarot out here, but ain't seen'm."

Chase’s eyebrows shoot up to vanish beneath the brim of her hat. “Whoa. That was a joke. Ain’t no one saying you’re dumb, amigo. I was just being sarcastic.” Frowning, she shakes her head. “The last thing I need is another consultation with HR about my sense of humor.”

Her gaze slides between Jack and the squeaky knight. “As tempting as that might sound, what if it drips down at his feet? Then he’s going to do the whole ‘step on a banana peel’ routine. And, again, I’m sitting uncomfortably with HR.”

The buzzing of the unit on her belt brings for a tired little sigh. “Well, I don’t need a crystal ball to know that my talents are being summoned.” Glancing down at the pager-like device, she grins. “Well, fellows, enjoy your day free from the rigors of duty. I’m off to see about a broken chain on the carousel.”

Saluting them both, she picks up her toolbag and walks off in the direction of one of the tunnel access points. Ms. Fix-It to the rescue again.

Jack considers this WD-40 incident to-be and says without irony, "They may work that into their show. Who is not loving a funny knight?" Giving Chase room he says to the two of them, "Eh if you need come by the bar later. We'll tell them to save you some of the good lager before that one's out of season entirely."

Looking to Elijah and then the knight and back he says "Well I can tell you his name is Marc with a 'cee' and he has a brother that is into auto racing and gave a good recco for a slow cooker stew recipe, or so the little birdie tells me. I might have eavesdrop. You want me to find more info I can trade for food." He'll encourage this behaviour.

Looking back to Chase's now empty path he says with some sympathy, "We should break something someplace fun for her." Who wants to tell him that is not helping?

"Considerin' I'm livin' with a fortune teller, I'll pass on t' idea o' investigatin' him." Elijah says with a chuckle, leaning against the fence as he watches the two 'knights' go at each other again, "'Sides, I ain't that good at cookin'. Now, if you'd accept hooch like mead or t' like, I got some bottles 'bout to be ready t' be decanted."

He raises an eyebrow when Jack suggests breaking stuff, and chuckles. "I dunno, she looks like she'd be a good backhand w' a wrench. If y' wanna go breakin' stuff, go ahead. Cute as t' medical staff is, I ain't lookin' t' be any more familiar with them in their professional capacity than I already am."