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The Doctor ([info]fromgallifrey) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-15 21:46:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!dropped, day 11, ianto jones, location: barn, logan, open, remy lebeau, the doctor (ten)

Day 11: Fixing up the Barn
Who: The Doctor, Gambit, Ianto, Logan, Jack and still very OTA
What: Making the barn habitable
Where: The Barn
When: 3:30 PM, day 11
Rating: PG-13, depending?

Status: Complete

Returning to the barn had seemed like the right thing for the Doctor to do following his chat with Jack. It had leveled him a bit and made the Doctor focused back upon what was important - and for now it was caring for the people he was here with - not running off on mission impossible hoping that he might be able to make things go his way.

The crackled road wound around and revealed the structure with it's leaning roof, dislocated hay loft, and singular wall that was leaning of it's own accord. Somehow, The pair of them had found the one spot within it that had allowed them to climb out of the tunnal the day before. There wasn't a ton of space in there; but, there was potential. There were the couches, and a sturdy enough tin roof. There were remnants of the walls from before and a floor that seemed relatively intact. The Doctor knew that with some help he could make something of this place.

Crossing off the road onto the gravel path that lead up to what had formerly been the entry to the barn he ducked inside and in an act of finality, he pushed a couch right over top of the trap door. If this place was going to be their shelter, it wouldn't do to have someone barging in on them at nightfall. Or at any fall for that matter.

"We all live in a yellow subarine, yellow submarine, yellow submarine," the Doctor sang away as he pushed the couches around the barn turned lean-to. Walking up he pushed on the remaining wall. It shuddered a little, but it seemed stable enough. All he needed was someone to help him reinforce the tin roof. Wouildn't do having it blown off onto the barn below at the slightest hint of wind.


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[info]clawed_one
2009-06-17 08:55 pm UTC (link)
Logan paid no mind to Gambit's wail of offended dignity. "Speak English, red-eyes." He snapped, then gave the Cajun a shove. "And get working. Since ya got a bum arm, I think Ianto's got the right idea. You can help him with the smaller shit. Y'try running off again, I'll tie ya to a tree so you can't." The threat was not exactly an idle one.

Cajun dealt with, Logan returned to the pile of roofing and timbers and started working on hauling things free.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-17 09:13 pm UTC (link)
"Apprenez le français, Kitty." Gambit returned just as smoothly to Wolverine, as he dusted himself off and collected up his dignity, before sauntering his way over to Ianto with a smile, as if none of that had just happened. "Ain' gonna brake a nail, homme, jus' ain' lookin' forwar' to doin' anyt'in' but sleepin'. I'm injure'. Lotta pain." Which was a crock of shit, and the Doctor knew it. Gambit had done a lot more in the course of the twenty-four hours after the earthquake than he should have, if he was in that much pain. But he gave up on his arguments. With Logan (his warden), the Doctor (his conscience), Jack (his peanut gallery) and Ianto (his.. well.. no. Ianto was the sane one in the group, huh, go figure) around, he knew he wasn't going to get any slack.. and it wasn't like he needed it, but he had to try. And once near to Ianto, he was snatching the nail from him with an easy smile.

"I like 'de way you t'ink, mon ami." As the Cajun was kneeling to start picking up some of those nails, he was glancing aside to the Doctor, where he was working with Jack. "Peut-être nous devrions utiliser quelques arbres de la forêt, tirer quelques-uns d'entre eux dehors. Ils feraient une cabine robuste, pour quelques personnes pour vivre dans. Utilisez des petits morceaux de la grange pour faire un toit pour cela. Les griffes de Kitty couperont directement par eux. Nous devrions juste les tirer dehors." It was a good suggestion, at any rate. There were plenty enough trees. And it was interesting, how Remy could go from refusing to help, to coming up with helpful ideas in the span of just a minute. He really did want to help, it was obvious enough. He just didn't want to seem like he wanted to help. Maybe he needed to see a shrink. Then again.. so did the rest of them.

He had, of course, spoken in French for two reasons: one, was that he didn't want the others knowing that he was being helpful of his own free will, and he knew the Doctor spoke French, and that Jack could apparently understand bits and pieces.. but to his knowledge, Ianto didn't speak the language, and he knew Logan didn't. The second reason, of course, was to piss Logan off.


[*Translation: Learn French, Kitty. & Maybe we should use some trees from the forest, haul a few of them out. They'd make a sturdy cabin, for a few people to live in. Use scraps from the barn to make a roof for it. Kitty's claws will cut right through them. We'd just have to haul them out.]

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[info]capt_harkness
2009-06-17 09:31 pm UTC (link)
Grunting with the effort, Jack moved with the Doctor, sliding the heavy pieces of timber out of the way. It felt right to be working with the man once more and it did a lot towards improving his mood. Not a lot, mind, but enough. He moved to the next piece, making eye contact with the Doctor. "Again?" He muttered out of the side of his mouth.

"Ah Gambit, so nice for you rejoin our merry band of brothers," Jack said, wiping his hands on his trousers. Heavy work, but it had to be done first before they got to anything else. And so long as he was doing it, Ianto didn't have to. He grinned, imagining Gambit tied to the tree. "And Logan? I'll assist in the tying. No safe-words either."

Jack could understand bits and pieces of the French, enough to nod with what Gambit was saying. He flicked a glance at Ianto, glad to see him taking it easy. Nail collecting was just fine for a man with a fractured arm. Why no, Jack wasn't being over-protective at all.

"Problem's going to be raising the roof -- pun intended. Unless we can find wire or rope somewhere to enact a pulley system, that's going to be a bitch."

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[info]madeinwales
2009-06-17 09:38 pm UTC (link)
"Didn't Shannon mention a tarp?" Ianto asked, trying not to laugh, though he really really wanted to. Tying Gambit to a tree? It'd be cruel around here, but really really funny.

Ianto dumped another few nails into his sling and noticed the look Jack was giving him. And managed somehow to refrain from rolling his eyes. Yes, he was hurt, but he wasn't an invalid. Well. Not completely. And shifting things wouldn't break his other arm. Wouldn't that be a riot?

"You aren't that injured," he told Gambit. "I'm injured and I'm managing just fine. You'll be fine, too. Help me shift this mess so we can dig out more nails. Then I suppose we'll have to clean out the mess in here while the others repair the roof." He wasn't going to listen to you, Jack.

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[info]clawed_one
2009-06-17 09:50 pm UTC (link)
There was absoutely no warning to Logan's retaliation on Gambit. Just a handful of nails suddenly flying at the Cajun, pointy ends aimed at him ... thrown as hard as Logan /could/ throw.

Bad time to be fucking around with the Wolverine. Logan was on edge enough as it was, thanks to yesterday. Wouldn't take much at all to push him to the point of forgetting any semblance of manners and kicking someone's ass.

Jack gets a long, slit-eyed glare before Logan can rein it in.

"We can make ropes. All we need is some cloth from the damn theater." He said as he hauled a section of roof off to one side without anyone's help, muscles bulging with the effort.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-17 10:09 pm UTC (link)
Gambit had been prepared for Logan to do something so he wasn't particularly surprised to see the sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. But that was all he needed to catch his attention, and he planted a hand down on the ground and pushed off of the ground suddenly with his feet, spreading them just a little. It was an impromptu backflip, but a jump wouldn't have gotten him quite high enough to avoid the projectiles and they would have lodged into his knees. The backflip had the nails sliding just a few inches under his back and driving themselves into the grass, just outside the barn, a good twenty feet behind him. When Gambit landed, he landed on one knee, and one foot (with the knee drawn up to his chest) and his hand planted on the ground.

Red eyes lifted to Logan and he made a 'tsk'ing noise, before looking down at his boot.. "Huh." With a firm tug, he pulled one of those nails out of the thick rubber heel of his boot, then slowly stood up and held up that nail. "I'm losin' my touch." However, the nail was just dropped into his injured hand, along with the other few that he'd picked up. "You wan' play, mon ami, we gon' play. But we do it la'er, non?" His words came with a smile. Cheeky Cajun.

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[info]capt_harkness
2009-06-17 11:48 pm UTC (link)
There had been no warning and at the same time, Jack never made a move to try and stop Logan either. He figured Gambit had it coming, no matter what happened. No warning shout, no nothing. He simply stayed where he was, crouched and ready to move the next piece of wood with the Doctor.

"Now, that's what I call getting nailed." Really, he couldn't help himself. The backflip, however, was rather impressive, a note Jack filed away in the back of his head. Gambit certainly wasn't what he appeared to be.

None of them were when it came right down to it. So was that why they had been collected? To be studied and watched for what extra abilities they had? It was quite the chilling thought.

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[info]madeinwales
2009-06-18 06:26 am UTC (link)
If they were being studied for extra abilities, they had to be straining a bit with Ianto. He was simply human. There was a determination about him, a will to survive, but that wasn't anything really unusual in people. Anyone can develop that.

Well. And he could brew one hell of a cup of coffee. And his tea was always perfect.

Ianto couldn't help himself at Jack's comment and snorted a little laugh through his nose. "He had it coming." Though, if it turned into an all out brawl, he didn't want to be there. Sling jangling with scavenged nails, Ianto bent and picked up one of the smaller pieces of wood to take over to the pile the Doctor and Jack were making. He was determined to be of use, his Captain be damned.

It was going to turn into a row, he could feel it. Oddly, something in him was terribly amused at that thought.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-18 07:15 am UTC (link)
The Doctor had ignored as a whole the interaction between Logan and Gambit. In a manner of speaking the pair had a 'past.' Well, at least for Red Eye's end of it. For Logan's end, it was probably just all too illustrative of whatever their relationship had been back where Gambit had come from.

"Enough," he said sternly to Logan and Gambit. "You want to go have at it? Not in here, this place is a fine enough wreck as it is," He bent over and picked up another long row of slats, tugging it along without waiting for Jack to help. He was getting frustrated, his mind filtering back to where it had been. His priorities were off; moving lumber coming up with schemes for levers and cantilevers. What he should be doing is leveling the rest of the buildings until he found what he was looking for.

"You," He said, dropping the plank in the pile and looking pointedly at Jack, "Don't encourage them."

It was clear to the Doctor that no amount of trying to distract these people was going to work. No, he would have to tell them to be quiet and tell them to work. Because apparently giving them tasks to do was not enough for them to take their minds off of having raging egos and depthless pools of testosterone.

"Ianto - is that a rope end right there?" He asked, canting his head to look at the floor near Ianto's left foot. They'd have rope in a barn, wouln't they?

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-18 01:51 pm UTC (link)
When Jack and Ianto ganged up on him, Gambit's mouth fell open in a nearly comical way and he lifted both gloved hands some, fingers spreading as if in surrender. The lithe muscles in his arms shifted under the skin to accommodate the move, and he made a slight sound of disgust, but the amusement on his face never wavered. "Wha' is 'dis? Gangin' up on 'de Cajun? Ce n'est pas équitable." Somehow, he always became the one that people singled out. Even if it wasn't his fault. He was just the easiest to blame and the easiest to gang up on, because it took it all with a grain of salt and smiled all the way through it. Why not? It was fun. And he was kneeling again to collect up a few nails when the Doctor scolded him, and the red-head rose up to his feet once again, eyebrows lifting curiously.

Then he pointed at himself, pressing a naked fingertip against his tank-top covered chest. "Moi?" It was a simple question, but then he shook his head and pointed his finger at Wolverine. This was all his fault! Much like two pets stuck in a home together for two long, the two mutants would eventually go at it. And their master, the Doctor, had come home and found a mess on the floor. The languid cat (the Cajun, of course) was innocently implicating the more feral dog (that would be Logan) in the case of the Knocked-Over-Garbage-Can. It certainly wasn't him! The cat never did anything wrong. Still, he slid a glance and a grin across at Logan before crouching once again and beginning to search for more nails.

[*Translation: That's not fair.]

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