The following characters and settings used in this story do not belong to me in any way, shape, or form. 'Naruto©' rightfully belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, and 'Team Fortress 2' rightfully belongs to Gabe Newell and Valve©.
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It was humid. That was probably one of the first things that he had noticed.
The area surrounding their boat was covered in mist, obscuring the waters before them. The Pacific rolled underneath them, rocking it side to side as they made their slow approach to wherever they were going.
The ship itself was a small cargo ship, carrying a small load of crates and a large object covered in tarp. The ship itself was run by a small crew, no more than twenty sailors, and their captain who had sailed for more than thirty. As the ship crossed over the ever flowing waves, they went about their business like a well-oiled machine, never stopping in their duty with efficiency and grace.
There would be the occasional wave that would move a little too high, splashing the deck with layers of salt water. Over time, those layers of water would build up, giving the deck a smell that could only be attributed to long hours of sailing on the high seas. It was quite literally breath-taking, in sight and smell, and it wouldn't have been as surprise if some of the green sailors on deck were overloaded by it.
Hell, he was having a rough time with it at the moment, given he hadn't really had the time to sail on a boat.
Ever.
In retrospect, he probably should have expected it. There weren't many beaches in Bee Cave, considering it was a landlocked town in the middle of Texas. Growing up there had been nice, with everyone practically knowing and supporting each other. With that kind of atmosphere, it wasn't a surprise he was so friendly to most of everyone he met.
That didn't mean he was a pushover though, oh heavens no. The work he had to do as he was raised was hard enough to strengthen anyone willing to try it. From the simple jobs like stocking the local store or moving around some furniture, to some more heavy lifting like crates and oil barrels. That kind of back-breaking work would make an honest man out of anybody, and he sure as hell wouldn't have had it any other way.
That kind of work, camaraderie and friendship helped start up some of the best barbeques Bee Cave had ever seen if he were honest about it. Some of the best recipes for the best meat and beer he had ever tasted were at those shindigs, and he was happy for being at every single one of them. Sitting by the fire with the townsfolk, playing songs on his guitar and sharing tales with his buddies were some of the best memories he ever had. That kind of experience wasn't something that people just forgot, and he was certainly glad for that.
Who needed to go to the beach when you had a cold beer in one hand, a plate of ribs in the other, and friends all around?
At the moment, it seemed that person was him as he tightened his grip on the railing. Lord Almighty, how long were these guys usually out here for? Days? Weeks? The two he'd been out here for had certainly been another experience he wouldn't forget.
Now that he thought on it, he probably could have gone for a drive to the beach once in a while and relax. Sitting on a chair in the Gulf of Mexico wouldn't have been too bad, a beer in his hand as he watched the sun set over the horizon. A small fire set on the sand next to him wouldn't have been too bad either, cooking up some pork or steak on a grill rack he had brought with him, getting those juices just right.
That probably could have happened if he had taken the time to do so, but it would have meant driving from Bee Cave to Galveston, which was the nearest beach he could think of. The drive itself was close to four hours, and that kind of time including the stay and the drive back would have been nearly twelve hours altogether. In that kind of time he could have gotten some important work done, such as writing up some blue prints and improving on some of his other inventions.
In truth, he had even done that multiple times, and still had the time to go out for some drinks with some friends. With all that was going on, including the work on his science PhDs and the time spent on his inventions, it was a wonder that he even had time outside of relaxing with his friends to do anything else.
Perhaps taking the time to do so would have helped him now. At least he would have had some previous experience with the sea instead of gripping to the side of the boat like he was hanging for dear life on the edge of a cliff. It certainly would have helped when another wave lightly hit the side of the boat, sending a new layer of water onto the deck and him a tiny bit back from his position at the starboard. A quick pull forward sent him back into his previous position over the railing, but he was faintly aware of the fact that his grip had tightened more than before.
He vaguely noticed that the mist had started to clear up, and he could see that the ever expanding waters were becoming more visible. The waves were starting to calm down as well; calm enough to not warrant any worry but still having enough force behind them to keep the boat moving forward. The sails certainly could have helped more with that, but they had been furled for a couple of hours, the reason for that being the matter that had occurred just hours prior.
That in itself had caught his attention many hours ago. Besides the rocky movement of the waves, most of the journey had been 'smooth sailing' according to the captain. The sky had been clear of any clouds for days, and the men were working the boat as they had been for the past few weeks. He had been sitting inside, going over some notes he had brought with him when he had heard the sailors start calling out rather rapidly. A quick jog onto the deck had revealed what the commotion was about.
A storm.
Not just any storm either. It was most certainly one of the largest, ominous, most deadly looking thing that he had ever seen in his entire life. Even the thunder storms on a bad day at home were nothing compared to this. The mountain's worth of clouds hung in the sky like a swarm of locusts, dark and dead as the night sky. The water beneath it was just as foreboding, making it nearly impossible to see what was further ahead. He could hear the thunder rolling within its depths, the roar echoing through the air and shaking the waters even more. It had to be one of the most terrifying things he had ever seen.
And it was heading right for them.
Shit.
Now when it came right down to it, Dell Conagher was not a man to be easily frightened. He had seen things that most others would call insane. Malevolent ghosts, demonic eyeballs, Australian Santa Claus, mad wizards, armies of the undead, you name it. There was nothing that a little Texan ingenuity and buck shot couldn't fix. That kind of thing seemed to be a daily or yearly thing to him, so that was just another day at the office.
Nature, however, was a different story. Mother Nature had a habit of controlling the most devastating functions of the Earth known to man. Set up a town in the middle of the plains? The townsfolk would find a tornado right outside their doorstep. Build all of your hospitals right on the fault line? There isn't going to be much room for help when a 7.8 earthquake tears every single one of them down. Have a pretty nice island community? A tsunami should fix that right up in a jiffy.
Mother Nature was a fickle, invincible being, and it can be guaranteed that a buck shot isn't going to help solve a thunder storm in her domain heading right for you.
Due to those circumstances, he'd gone to the captain and politely suggested that perhaps the ship could turn around before they were sunk.
"Now Captain, I ain't usually one to be telling someone how to run their ship, but if you don't turn this ship around, this here ship's gonna sink faster than a large fella in quicksand."
Polite being the keyword.
To his surprise, however, the Captain had just turned his head to him and smiled, not at all frightened by the oncoming storm.
Now, spending all of those years at home and at his job, Dell was able to read a person like a book. Just that slightest movement could reveal so much in a person, that you would be able to gain a large understanding of them. As he quickly looked over this man before him, he'd noticed things that he wouldn't have hours before.
The captain was old, and was most likely in his fifties or sixties. His body, while looking brittle and frail, stood tall. The years of working his vessel had made him a part of it, standing at the wheel with faith and trust in his old friend. His hands, wrinkled and worn as they were, were marked and rugged. Not from accidents or mistakes, but from experience: they were rugged and marked so from his time at the wheel, not a single waver or shake was shown. As for his eyes…
Dell had to take a second look at this eyes. They were old, just like his body, but they held something within them. Oh there was age to be sure, the wisdom of years as they watched time slip by. But there was something else…
BOOM!
A crack of thunder broke that time of observation almost immediately, making Dell turn his head to see that they had gotten ever closer to the monster in front of them, growing ever darker by the second.
"Don't worry," a voice said, low and rugged. His head snapped in the direction of the voice, and saw that something had changed. The Captain, previously facing him, was now looking forward, into the heart of the storm. That was expected of course, to make sure that the boat was still going in the same direction, but the biggest change was now on his face.
His smile, so small and comforting before, had grown larger. That smile was filled with determination, some bravado even, and as he stared forward, Dell could have sworn he was challenging the storm to do its worse. Almost like it was replying, the storm gave a large rumble, a bolt of lightning accompanying it. In that moment, as they grew ever closer, Dell realized what that look had been before.
Confidence. Pure and utter confidence in himself, his ship and his crew. Confidence that they would pass through this monstrosity in one piece.
"I've been through here before," the captain spoke, that voice from before echoing over the deck. "Every time this storm has been here, and every time we have come back alive and well. I assure you sir…"
Those determined eyes quickly looked over, and he knew what the captain said next were true. "…were going to be perfectly fine." A small twinkle appeared in his eyes, as he turned his attention back to the storm now almost upon them. "If you wish to have some assurance in this, I suggest you hold onto something."
And hold on he did. However, hold had probably been a bit of an understatement. He had some of the worry alleviate from his chest thanks to the old captain, but nature was still fickle sometimes, often doing things one didn't expect at a particular moment. So he figured no one could really judge him when he wrapped his right arm and leg around the railing as tightly as he could, and prayed that the ride wasn't going to toss him into the churning below them.
Hopefully.
Any thought after that was purged from his thoughts though, as they finally hit one more crashing wave…
…and chugged right into the heart of the storm.
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After an extended period of absence and life, AussieScum proudly presents:
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"Meet the Orangineer"
The Rewrite
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A title in progress coming 12/25/2014.