Isle Of Pirates

[e]

Claire rolls her eyes at Tom's posturing over the Captain's hat when he walks out of the room after the cook.

"If'n we're going by old sailor's superstitious nonsense, it's bad luck to have a woman on board at all...'Course, I think it's a boon," she says and smiles.

She then turns her attention to more immediately pressing items. Clearing some space on the table, she takes the map from Helouise and spreads it out in front of them. She scans the map for landmarks she recognizes and finds the port they left from.

Pointing to it, she says "That's where we got on..." She traces her finger along the black flight path lines, picking out the possible destinations until she locates one that looks like it could have been the salt mines they were en route to.

"That's a likely candidate for where we were headed to..." She taps it with her finger. "That would put us somewhere along this path right here." She traces the flight route. "'Course, like as not, we ain't on that course anymore after gettin' spun around somethin' awful. I'm no expert on ships, but if you can figure out where in this nowhere we are," circling an area with her fingertip, "we can start comin' up with ideas of where we'd like to be. If you ask me, the more space we can put between us and that port," she says, pointing to their point of departure, "the better."

[Gravedust]

((for convenience's sake we can say that the port you left is to the west, and where you were probably heading is to the east.))

According to Claire's best guess, the area Bethesda is currently hovering is somewere about two-thirds (hopefully) across a wide, largely blank swath of sea, almost large enough to be called an ocean. The expanse of water extends for thousands of miles to the north and south, but here the space between the continents to the west and east is comparatively narrow.

The eastern shore is within range of the ship's dwindling fuel supply....Probably. Much depends on just where in the grey-blue expanse of water the ship actually is. In any case the steam back west is clearly not an option with the current fuel supply.

The map marks two likely ports within range, Rollistown and Carrelon.

About a day's further travel east past either town brings you solidly into Concordian territory.

A number of islands lie in your supposed area, but they are little more than dark specks at the scale that the map is drawn at. None of them have names.

[e]

Claire studies the map for another few minutes, looking at the options, her brow furrowed. "I reckon I'd rather take a personal look at one of these islands here rather than go right up against the Concordian border. And it seems a smarter gamble with our fuel. How does that strike you?" She looks at Heloise, interested in what insight or feeling the mechanic might have about their options.

[Khrys]

Kenneth made a mental note to hate the little scrub with the Captain's hat but kept emotion from showing on his always-bland expression. "Fine, you wanna toss the crew into the roiling waters, do it. Bugger you." he thought. It was one less load off his task list and would allow him to focus on cooking.

After fifteen minutes setting up in his old bunk his feet itched like they'd been painted with peppersauce and he made his way directly to the galley ((map location plz?)) to survey what had happened to his haven. Likely ruined while it under the control of some skill-less bastard.



An inventory of food and crockery later, Kenneth put out enough clean serving utensils and platters for the troupe and got to work on a thick stew and dumplings. They'd eaten planktonic garbage during their internment so he knew that anything would taste like glory to them. And stew was a good way to fill bellies while still rationing. Hopefully that little corpse-hugging turd monkey didn't have a hollow leg.

Kenneth set to work. Dinner would be served, without pie, in two hours.

((Aiming to win over tastebuds while rationing food stocks. And you mentioned cooked food can sometimes offer buffs...?))

[brendur]

Tom goes about his job as promised, working industriously for a corpse hauler, with an enthusiasm that borders on disturbing. At first he's content to just talk to the unfortunate dead men, however after he's wrapped up the third, he breaks into loud and raucous singing. Making up for his lack of a singing voice with volume that's used to echoing in a ship.



When all the bodies are in the Aft engine room, he head's down to the artillery room where they found the gunner. Checking over the gun's sights and condition, going over routine maintenance, making sure if they're attacked they've at least got something to tickle the enemy with.

(( Also going to keep an eye out for any spare materials he can covert into explosives.))

[Gravedust]

((The galley is part of the Bunk area, which is sort of a generalized living area with lavatory, beds, storage, etc.))

[kraftykate]

"I reckon I'd rather take a personal look at one of these islands here rather than go right up against the Concordian border. And it seems a smarter gamble with our fuel. How does that strike you?" She looks at Heloise, interested in what insight or feeling the mechanic might have about their options.

"What strikes me is that you may know more about skirting the law and their goons than me. That being the case, I'll leave the course-plot to you. As for me, I'm going to take a look at our girl's engines and see what I can do to make our fuel stretch." Heloise looks up at Claire with a raised eyebrow. "Sound good to you?"

Just then, the waft of real food makes it's way to her. "By gods, that smells mighty good. I think I'll take care of the engines after supper." The primal force of Heloise's stomach pulls her towards the area Kenneth has staked out as his. Any response from Claire is drowned in thoughts of having real food. After days of dirty slop, this sends her into an uncharacteristically good mood. Such a good mood in fact that she scoops up Boris as soon as she sees him and gives him a proper scratching.

"Does the chef feed you well? He must. Think he'll feed us as good?"

((After dinner, she'll head to the engines and make a mechanical check to stretch the fuel out. ))

[Gravedust]

Tom finds the Cannon compartment in fair working order, though some parts of the mechanism give him some trouble until he realizes it's a transplanted light tank gun. Concordian low-end engineering at it's finest. The small-bore gun packs a timid punch that chould be shrugged off by most serious hull plating. But it's better than nothing. And in a pinch it could make an enemy at least think twice.

Boris the Cat reacts indignantly to his unexpected handling by Heloise and bats at her hand for a moment, emitting rusty-sounding meows before eventually giving in and allowing himself to be scratched, eyes closed. He follows her irately when she finally puts him down and heads for the furnace compartment ((Fuel consumption is determined by ye furnace.)) and starts fiddling with the banking mechanism to coax the flames into burning almost as hot, but not as fast by regulating the flow of air. With one eye on the sliders and another on the temperature gague, she manages to get results that make her happy. The settings will have to be checked and adjusted once every few hours or so, but so long as they are maintained, the ship can now get about 20% further than it would have otherwise, although it'll be travelling a bit slower.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
((Well all right, making progress. I expect we'll probably be getting somewhere by the end of tomorrow. Once someone is ready to give Elle a heading to start steaming towards, I can move us on to the next bit. But no hurry, take care of anything else you want to.

::::UPKEEP::::
((No salvage rolls till I've devised some rules to go with that, sorry. : / ))


ALL CHARACTERS
+8 Morale
+3 to Toughness, Strength and Agility for 1 day
((from food))



Tom:
+3 CP
+Captain's Hat


Dexter:
+2 CP
+Autocrank
-C. Highwind

Claire:
+3 CP


Kenneth:
+ 2 CP


Helo:
+2 CP


Bethesda stocks:
-7 tinned preserves.

[e]

Claire nods as Heloise mentions dinner and then checking on the fuel and engine situation. "Good...I'll be making my way to the galley for a plate in a bit after I go let our pilot know where to aim the ship."

She finds Ellie still sitting at the controls and clears her throat to announce her entrance. "Well, firstly we settled on a course." She places the map down so they can look at it together. "We reckon we're about here now. "Claire points to an area of the water between the two landmasses. "And we're gonna try and land on one of these islands here... maybe this or this. Course that'll depend on which island shows up out the window and looks like we might find accomodations. Heloise says she think we'll make it with the fuel we've got and she's seeing about makin' it last as long as she can. And if you can point us over thataway and keep the bird flyin' as polished as you have so far, we will be finished with this rash of trouble soon."

((Leaving the map near the controls for Ellie to reference as she's flying.))

"Secondly, meal's ready for eatin'. Do you need us to bring you a plate here while you're flying or can you leave her be for a bit?"

When Claire's sure that the pilot will get a share of food one way or another, she heads back toward the bunks and savors a plate of stew with dumplings, glancing warmly at Kenneth in appreciation.

[jazzs3quence]

Dexter snaps out of his tinkering coma when he smells food and climbs up the stairs to the main level, heading toward the galley. Picking a spot next to his sister he seats himself when he notices Boris lurking underfoot and looking surly. He raises an eyebrow as if to say Did anyone feed you yet? and decides the answer is probably not. Stirring his stew, he surreptitiously sneaks the chunks of meat out of his bowl and lowers his hand under the table for Boris. When there are no meat pieces left, he wipes his cat-licked hand on his pants and eats his meal in silence.

[brendur]

Tom frowns slightly at the shoddy workmanship of the ship's artillery, he supposed this could be useful if they were attacked by a flock of geese. If any military vessel decided to make an example of them though, they'd just chip the paint in defiance. Still, at least this wasn't a merchant vessel without a gun to it's name.

He'd search the rest of the ship later, perhaps there were a few cleaning chemicals that could be turned into something more...imposing. After rotating the turret barrels once more, he smelt the aroma of stew wafting down the steps, making his stomach rumble something fierce. Grinning he set the oil rag to the side and made his way up to the bunkrooms, swinging himself into one of the high bunks, a leg left lazily swinging over the side.

"Well it doesn't smell like pie, but damned iffin that doesn't smell GOOD!"

He gingerly sets his rucksack to hang on the corner of the bedpost, looking about and winking to the others gathered there.

"So we know where we're headed yet?"

[e]

Claire pauses in the middle of lifting her spoon to her mouth to answer Tom. "That we do. There look to be some small islands nearby enough to breeze into without our fuel gettin' down to naught. There were a few ports too, bit farther trip, but the islands might be better place to suss things out regardin' the Bethesda, here." She takes another bite, chewing, then looks up again. "You have any knowledge of the islands in these parts Tom?"

[kraftykate]

Everyone elses mind seems to be on what to do next. Everyone except for Heloise. The ship was good for the time being and her belly was delightfully being filled. "What did you all do to get into this mess?" Artfully, she managed to speak with a full mouth and not spit food. "Me? I got sentenced to a lifetime of hard labor for the White Goliath disaster." Once the stew goes down she takes a bite of bread and speaks again. "So I figure you all must have been blamed for something reasonably big."

[brendur]

Tom takes his spoon to his bowl as if he's lived through a year long famine, wolfing the concoction down with such speed, one must wonder if he's actually tasting what he's eating. In between shoveling food past his lips he pauses to answer the various questions.

"Nothing specific about the isles here, uncharted islands are a bit oh a gambit from my experience. Likely to have plenty oh resources to take on board, game n'fuel fer the boiler. Since they're good places to hide though ye've jest as much a chance as stumblin onto another raider's cache or base, which could mean trouble."

He chews on a morsel for a moment, considering Heloise's question.

"Brought me in fer lootin, hijacking, n'blowin folk up. Ye know, fer bein a pirate. Seemed to suit the Concordian navy jest fine when they got a slice oh ole Gammel's profits, then one day, didn't need us. Blew the Morrigan out the sky."

He stabs his spoon back in his bowl for the last portion, then sets about licking the bowl clean, overturning it on the bed post.

"Our pilot got her share yet?"

[Gravedust]

Elle turns and blinks at Claire as she enters the bridge.

"Well, firstly we settled on a course." She explains the rest of the flight plan, setting the airmap next to the helm and weighing it down against the wind with a miscellaneous piece of the outer hull that had found it's way onto the cockpit's deck.

Elle studied the map for a moment, then nodded.

"Good. Hanging out here with our bird's stomach getting empy wasn't really making me feel too.. Comfortable. I'll get her nose into the wind and be off... You can bring some food by in a bit."

After Claire has made her exit, Elle bites her lip and looks over the controls and instruments. Unfamiliar. Most birds shared the same set of dials but almost all of them were arranged differently. It would take a little getting used to. She notices an odd smudge on the climb indicator and wipes at it with her thumb. The red-brown patch flakes away and she realizes it's dried blood. She exhales.

"All right girl, time to move. Treat us a bit kinder than your last bunch, aye?"

With no further preamble she cants the rotors forward, applying some power to counter the shift in center of gravity and bring her from hover into forward flight. The engines growl at the torque and the airframe shivers slightly with a small, high groan. Elle watches the forward airspeed indicator twitch and then rise. "That's a good girl..."

On this moonless night she'll be relying solely on instuments to know what Bethesda is doing in the sky ...and to keep them all from going into the sea. Her eyes dance from gague to gague, always returning to the big gimbal compass. Her hands stay steady on the helm, now and again adjusting the trim wheels or massaging the engine power levers, dropping quickly into the shallow hypnosis of flight.

In this way the time passes, till the sun finally shoulders it's way over the horizon and lights the sky.

In the Furnace compartment, a red light illuminates.

The world becomes visible again in the sunlight, revealing an endless green and gray stretch of water. The clouds have broken overnight into thin, misty shreds that hang near the water like a torn quilt.

Elle's circuit of glances now extends to periodic checks out the window for any sign of any land, but all there is to be seen is the sea. She rubs her eyes and keeps flying as the sun climbs higher and higher into the sky.


======================================================
((And yeah, the red light is just a low fuel indicator. Also, for those that care, I'm expecting to get the airship combat rules finished by this weekend! ..Not that you'll probabaly need it before then... Probably.. But it's been bottlenecking a lot of other stuff that I'll try to get out the pipe now... ))

YE UPKEEP:

Claire:
+3CP

Dexter:
+2CP

Heloise (No 'e', see I remembered this time. )
+3CP

Tom:
+2CP

Boris:
+1 Fatness

[e]

It was not fully dawn when Claire woke from the best night of sleep she'd had since boarding this ship. Everyone else in the area seemed to be sleeping. She'd been dreaming of running a job with that ol' Captain's hat on her person when she'd won a bigger reward than she ever had waking. That infernal captains hat keeps flashing through her head and while she had quite a few other things on her mind yesterday, this morning it is back at the forefront of her thoughts. She pictures watching that chem-happy pirate shoving it up against a grenade all the while grinning like a lunatic for the umpteenth time.

Claire hadn't really considered herself for a real captain before, with a full crew that wasn't just herself and her brother. Barking out orders was not exactly her idea of a good time. If she did claim captain, it'd have to be more of a, well, fellowship. With her own crew, she'd have the hands and means to pursue some of the hidaway treasure she'd had to bid farewell to after just finding it, and in the past few years those were adding up to a solid lot.

And then there's the matter of the dare, and Claire is hardly a gal to pass up a dare, particularly the kind with some real excitement involved. Fishing a cunning hat out of a pack with explosives old enough to be her grandmother's is just too much for Claire. That captains hat's practically calling out to her.

She sets her unshod feet quietly on the floor and steps across the floor to where Tom's rucksack is still hanging on the post, the blanket from her bunk in her hand. She thought if she was gonna risk blowin' her own self to bits, she'd prefer to do it with as small an audience as she's able. Careful as can be, she opens the lip of the rucksack with her left hand, peering inside without angling her head closer to the explosive, until she can make out the shapes of the hat and the grenade.

Very slowly and with a touch light as a feather, Claire uses her right hand to lower a corner of the blanket into the sack until it's covering the metal lump and separating the hat from it. Cautiously, Claire reaches with her left hand, fishing the hat out from the pack, slow as molasses. When the hat is clear she holds it in front of her face (may as well not be her nose that gets blown away if the grenade gets antsy) while she pulls the blanket gingerly back up out of the rucksack.

She moves back toward her bunk, tossing the blanket back, tipping the hat into her own pack, and strapping it over her shoulder. She pulls on her boots and stalks off to check in on their pilot and their ship.

As she walks, Claire makes a mental note to avoid using the edge of the blanket that had gotten friendly with nitroglycerin when she lay down again.

((Sorry so late with this. Had to rewrite after the two year old who is luckily very very cute hit the power button. Aauuugh!))

((Altered for no intentional boom. Sorry about that.))

[Gravedust]

((Just double checking your intentions with this, because what Claire just did would generally cause said grenade to explode approx 5 seconds later...))

[jazzs3quence]

((erin's afk at the moment so i'm chiming in in her stead...))

((yes, but it's a salt and pepper grenade, which I/we took to be sort of like a mace grenade))

www.guardian.co.uk/world/2010/mar/23/india-chilli-bhut-jolokia-terrorism
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chili_grenades
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shotgun#Less_Lethal_rounds.2C_for_riot_and_animal_control
((so...as we understood it, it was a non-lethal explosive that would just hurt and be embarrassing and possibly loud, but not actually do any real damage. if that's not the case then I think erin might change her action.))

[brendur]

(( oh no, that's a real life, hull blowing grenade that Tom's got in there. Sorry, I should have clarified about that in parenthesis on that post :S))

[e]

((My bad. Am modifying post now....))

((Aaand, done.))

[Gravedust]

((Wellll.. Today was sort of a bust. picking up where we left off on Monday, I guess, unless a lot of people are going to be out over the 4th.))

Claire:
CP +2

[Khrys]

Jul 2, 2010 21:27:18 GMT -8 Gravedust said:

((Wellll.. Today was sort of a bust. ))

((Sorry man, the holiday Thursday threw me completely off. I'll be pirating on Monday, guaran-yarr'in-teed.))

[Gravedust]

((Just so peeps know, the last post I made is till active, so go on from there if you're waiting for me to do anything today. ))

[DeleriusDruid]

The delicious aroma flowing from the galley was what finally snapped Marty out of his reverie. His insides squirmed, reminding him of how long it had been since his last decent meal.

He stretched slowly and crawled out of the corner he had been hiding in. No use with a wrench and worse with steering controls, he had figured staying out of the others' way to be the best option.

The food called to him.

Evidently the large one called "Kenneth" knew his way around the kitchen. His way around the kitchen. Heh.

Marty ate in silence, watching the rest of the "crew" as they argued about which way was which and what not. Directions were not his strong point. He travelled by one simple constant: away.

As he finished off the tasty stew, he let out a gruff Thank ye kindly to the cook and left the room.

Climbing up the ladder, he set to watching the horizon from the deck of the airship.

"I figure we may be needin' a lookout, so might as well" he muttered to no one in particular.

[e]

As she gets to the bridge, Claire calls out to Ellie, "Morning! How's it look down below?" and then takes a long look at the endless water stretching beneath them, her eyebrows drawing together.

She glances back at Ellie, taking in the pilots exhausted state. "You look mighty wore out...sorry bout the rough night. If there's help I can give, just say the word."

Claire pauses, looking out at the sun catching on the water, scanning for shapes in the distance and finding not a thing. "I'm a mite troubled by the view now that we can see beyond those blasted clouds. According to that there map and the spot we reckoned we were yesterday, do you figure we should be eyeballin' some of those islands yet or is it still early?"

After conferring with the pilot, Claire wanders back through the bunks and then sees somethin' red shining from a bit away. She follows it into the Furnace compartment and has a quick look at the red light she guesses is a low fuel warning before turning in search of Heloise. Not sure herself whether to be sayin' prayers or sniffing out breakfast, she figures the mechanic will be able to spell out how close they are to empty.

[Khrys]

Life had become balanced once more, now that he again held a ladle in his hands. Kenneth kept his own hours in the kitchen and guaranteed that there was a regular breakfast and dinner available. Mid-day...well, with having to ration he figured that mid-day would consist of him laying out a scraps plate of dry foods for them to handkerchief up into their pockets. Maybe things would last longer.

Not that it would be an issue. He heard the talk at the table and it seemed that after doing initial inventory, human fuel was not the lowest of fuel in their stocks.

While settling into the clean-up of breakfast dishes he resolved to check on gadfly Tom's own clean up task. If there were any crew left laying on the floors that hadn't been attended to, Kenneth had decided that they'd be fit for his original plan of cremation. Might just get the ship an extra knot or two when they most needed it. His momma would've been the first to point it out, 'Kennikins, if you want to do them their duty as aeronauts, you'll let 'em serve you how they can best now that their spirits have set sail. Even if that duty is to be kindlin'.''

He planned to wash the remainder of the dishes and get to walking the decks immediately, hoping that he could find at least one deceased chunk of tinder that Tom had missed. Heck, maybe he'd even get lucky and discover that the little fellow's piousness was limited to his attention span and the clean up hadn't been completed yesterday.

[kraftykate]

Heloise is sitting down to enjoy a delicious warm breakfast. She appears deep in thought as she stars blankly into a distance that doesn't exist in Bethesda's frame work. Coffee with cream and sugar steams in a mug in her hand and Boris rubs against her leg demanding food.

((Heloise is ready for questions. Weee )

[jazzs3quence]

Dexter wanders to the galley later than most. To look at him, though, it's obvious it wasn't due to excess sleep -- he looks as if he didn't sleep a wink, in fact. His eyes remain fixed on one of the books he pilfered from the lockers the night before even as he meanders his way toward a chair at the table, occasionally bumping into people or things as he does. No sooner does he sit down, however, than a sudden flash crosses his eyes and he stands up again, still not taking his gaze away from the book in his hands. He wanders back in the direction of the cargo hold and returns a few minutes later holding a can of the gray prisoner preserves in one hand while balancing the book in the other. Sitting back at his place at the table, he reaches into his belt and pulls out a utility knife. He takes one quick glance away from the book toward the can, steadying it with his left hand, before his eyes return to the book and his right hand starts hacking aimlessly away at the top of the can. He looks up again when he feels the knife puncture the tin, and starts prying away the lid before finding Boris' bowl with a foot and scooting it over to his chair. When he feels the bowl hit the bottom of his chair, he reaches down blindly -- still keeping his page in the book -- and brings the bowl up with one hand. He pauses to turn the page. Then, he empties half the can of preserves into the bowl and places it down at the foot of his chair again when he's done.

In this way, without verbally or otherwise visibly acknowledging the existence of human life outside the tome he carries in his hands, he says good morning to the rest of the crew.

[e]

Claire spots Heloise, coffee in hand. She finds herself a mug and fills it, then sits down and sips. "Mmmm. That is divine."

"I was wandering over the ship a minute ago and noticed a red light in the Furnace compartment. I'm gonna wager it's tellin' us the fuel is going... are you versed in how much farther this girl here can keep to the air once that's lit up?"

[kraftykate]

"I was wandering over the ship a minute ago and noticed a red light in the Furnace compartment. I'm gonna wager it's tellin' us the fuel is going... are you versed in how much farther this girl here can keep to the air once that's lit up?"

Her time spent in her memories comes to a sudden stop and she becomes aware of her surrounds once more. The usual force behind her words is gone as she speaks and instead carries a strange peace. "You wager correctly. We have 24 hours left. Give or take an hour. That takes into account my modifications on the furnace, of course." Heloise takes a sip of her coffee and slowly enjoys the flavor. "You're right about the coffee too. Seems like that chef can make even deckplate taste good. Wish I could complain about it, but I can't."