Airships and Antiquities: Game Thread - Crew Wins

Started by Trieste, October 20, 2012, 07:13:48 PM

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Trieste

Welcome to Airships and Antiquities, the steampunk-themed alternative to Werewolves of Miller's Hollow! :)

For a very general overview of gameplay, please see Saffron's wonderful Gameplay and Rules thread. I will be referring to this thread often, and you should be aware that you are responsible for following the Rules laid out in the second post of that thread.

Roles (For an outline of what the roles mean, please see this post)

  • Crew Members - 13/14
  • Mutineers - 4/5
  • Chirurgeon
  • Detective
  • Chemist
  • Simulacrum
  • Greenhorn
  • Pirate




Players

  • Saffron
  • Kazyth
  • Starlequin
  • Ryven
  • Cyrano Johnson
  • Beguile's Mistress
  • Mithlomwen
  • Luna
  • James Moriarty
  • ThatRPGuy
  • SunshineSparkle
  • Sarena
  • Lord Mayerling
  • Remiel
  • Niferbelle
  • Kendra
  • That Girl Analise
  • Valerian
  • Falanor
  • Mr Bigglesworth
  • Moirae
  • Kyrsa
  • The Last Standing



Summary
Day 1: Sarena is elected Captain.
Night 1: Lord Mayerling, a crew member, is eliminated by the Mutineers.
Day 2: The crew throws Cyrano Johnson, a crew member, overboard.
Night 2: No deaths.
Day 3: The crew throws Beguile's Mistress, a Pirate, overboard.
Night 3: That Girl Analise, the Detective, is eliminated by the Mutineers.
Day 4: The crew throws James Moriarty, a Mutineer, overboard.
Night 4: Kyrsa, a crew member, is eliminated by the Mutineers.
Day 5: The crew throws SunshineSparkle, a crew member, overboard.
Night 5: Mr. Bigglesworth, a crew member, is eliminated by the Mutineers.
Day 6: The crew throws Kendra, a crew member, overboard.
Night 6: Saffron, the Simulacrum, and Falanor, the Chemist, are eliminated.
Day 7: The crew throws ThatRPGuy, a Mutineer, overboard.
Night 7: ...

Trieste

The lightening sky was a dim grey mingled with violet. There was a paler lavender patch in the East, heralding the spot where the sun would soon rise. As all of the sailors made their way to the aged but sturdy airship in berth nine, the tall form of the Captain greeted them. No one was actually sure whether Captain Madison was male or female - Mad had long silvery hair that was out of sorts with the Captain's unlined, young-looking face. The Captain dressed in fitted flying leathers that were good for protecting the body from the elements, but bad at displaying gender differences in anatomy. Whatever the case, Mad shook each new sailor's hand, welcoming him or her on board the Ida Leigh. A brief speech was given on the basic rules of the boat - everyone works, everyone gets paid. If you don't work, you don't get paid. And if you get mouthy, you get tossed overboard.

Simple as that.

And then the ship set sail. The first day, she made fantastic time, blessed by a clear sky and a jolly wind. It wasn't until that evening that the storm clouds started rolling in. The ship pulled higher to rise above the worst of the storm, but the tall thunderheads were too high for the ship to get out altogether. Rain lashed the deck, driving all but those on night watch into their berths. The storm battered the ship all night, receding only in the hours before sunrise. It wasn't until breakfast was being served that it was noticed the Captain was missing. Upon further investigation, it was discovered that the Captain's quarters were empty, and Mad was nowhere to be found on the entire ship. Some panicked, some got angry. Some wanted to turn around, and some were determined to push ahead. One thing was certain, though: a new Captain needed to be selected. The best way to go about it was clearly a democratic system, and so the newly introduced crew would face their first challenge by electing a Captain.

GM Note: Role PMs have been sent. If you didn't receive a role PM, you should PM Trieste. The Captain in this game is equivalent to the Sheriff in other games, which means that they have no special powers other than acting as a tiebreaker in the event of a tie. Remember to copy Trieste on any PMs sent regarding this game!

Cyrano Johnson

Cyrano could still feel the ship juddering under his feet, for all that the storm had receded some hours earlier... but the effect didn't show in his face, which remained as smooth and affable as the moment he'd stepped aboard and shook Captain Mad's hand, unruffled as the waters of a calm sea reflecting back the endless dominion of the clouds. He continued to smile, Buddha-like and unflappable, at all about him, even as arguments raged through the ship's mess about the best way to proceed; and he mashed together his morning meal of hard tack and albatross fat, chewing it almost absent-mindedly and swallowing as though he cared more for the form of the act than for hard fact of sustenance.

To the casual onlooker, it might almost seem as if something was missing from him. His eyes betrayed nothing, his hands were steady, his plump cheeks unwavering, his whole corpulent form utterly unmovable, like a mountain set upon the decks of the Ida Leigh. He had touches of silver hair in his wild, unruly, extravagant Afro, subtle hints of lines in his coppery skin, touches of wear on his leather jerkin and on the colourful waistcoast beneath as it stretched to contain his prosperous belly. An old man? Or older, anyway? Perhaps many voyages had inured him to the hardships of airborne life. Yes, perhaps that was it.

Certainly, however much he'd run to fat, there were hints of a strong and stolid frame underneath the softness. His gnomic gaze could be just a front for a fundamental lack of self-knowledge, his whiskers and his patchy beard the side-effects of long, beery stays in aerial ports where the brothels were plentiful and razors and mirrors scarce. Perhaps he was one of those legions of men who'd shipped out year after year, chasing who-knew-what among the clouds and beneath the celestial firmament, unable to name even to himself the object of his desires, the animating spirit that drove him forth to voyage after voyage of thankless toil.

Yes. Perhaps that was it.

Whatever the case, he wasn't shy about putting forth his vote for the new Captain. Had he observed the man he'd chosen? Known him previously, or by reputation? No hint of either option showed on his round, beaming, affable face as he stood, gestured expansively, and declared himself to be Starlequin's man!

The startlement from those around him was clear, but it didn't budge him an inch. Indeed, he seemed not to notice it. "Yes, Starlequin," he affirmed, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the elect without even looking at him. "The choice is clear... and I think I'll find more than a few of you to agree, if you'll take a sounding of your inner workings." This enigmatic pronouncement delivered with all due baritone solemnity, he grinned, dipped his mash of hard tack and albatross fat in a mug of ship's grog, swilled down the oily product and, with a last theatrical gesticulation, sat down at his bench in the ship's mess to continue his morning meal.
Artichoke the gorilla halibut! Freedom! Remember Bubba the Love Sponge!

Cyrano Johnson's ONs & OFFs
Cyrano Johnson's Apologies & Absences

Starlequin

Star 'Steps' LeQuin lay in his bunk, stripped to his skivvies and staring out through the ceiling into the past, haunted by uncertainty and regret. No sleep again; damn nightmares. Ruddy storm didn't help matters none, either. Twenty years sailin' these confounded skies, and still he'd yet to learn how to ignore the maelstrom's song. First rays of dawnlight were beginnin' to warm the hull, and Star kissed the cool lips of a bottle with his own to rouse himself with a bit 'a bourbon's heat. He had no stomach for breakfast, but life on a ship was always a matter of Eat Now, or Forever Mourn Your Peas. To the mess hall, then. But first, the matter of pants.

Looked like most of the crew was already gathered and stuffin' their faces when Star hobbled in and joined them. The familiar feel of eyes swivelling toward him rolled off his back. Nothing new, really. A man in his condition was used to gawkers. He made a bit of a show of it as he stood in the mess line to collect his tray, reaching down to his bare right 'leg' and re-tightening the coils in his knee and ankle. Not that they needed tightening, really; he'd given each gear a full hundred turns the day before, ensuring the aluminum-and-copper altlimb would function for a solid three days before winding down. And these days, it was rare to meet crew what had never seen an augman before. But Steps had learned it never hurt to give the demonstration anyway. Kept any grass snouts from hangin' their biscuits 'n' all.

He carried his tray to a nearby seat and sat down quietly to eat. Glop and mush, mush and glop. *Ruhe meiwei. Steps dug in with an eye roll of resignation, largely ignoring the growing commotion among the other crew members until he was nearly half done. Someone was...missing?

The Captain was missing?...!

'Interesting start to an interesting day,' LeQuin thought as he sat silent at the table, twirling his fork slowly in what remained of his rations. Word of an impromptu election reached him via the crew's chatter, and a shiver rippled through him. That feeling again. Something so...familiar. He was still contemplating the matter when he heard his name called from behind him, and one eyebrow lifted in confusion and mild disbelief as he rotated on the bench to find his advocate -- a weatherly, pudding-shaped fellow with a beatific expression on his face. He remained smiling as Star met his eyes, and continued chowing down. Damn. Looked like he meant it.

Star ran a hand through his thinning hair and lightly scratched the back of his head before running his hand over the angry red line that circled his throat. After a few moments' thought, he shrugged and pointed at himself, shaking his head gently. Then he looked around and scanned every face in attendance, until finally he found the one he was looking for. Perhaps the one person he could trust on this infernal ship. He lifted one hand and pointed, determined, toward Sarena.

(*How delicious.)
You live for the fight when it's all that you've got.

Kendra

The trek to Shearsdale docks had been arduous enough but Kendra had finally made it, anything to be on a ship again. It mattered not to her that the ship was rumoured to be haunted, all night long as she had waited for the morning the ship would sail, she had heard little else. Drunken sailors swearing that any man or woman take aboard the Ida Leigh would not be returning. Her one good eye had stared deep into the dregs of her tankard before draining it and putting their tales down to poppy cock. It was only now standing aboard the vessel itself that she felt the sheer weight of those stories coming back like a stark reminder that this could be her last voyage anywhere. The money, she reminded herself taking her few belongings and setting them up below deck amongst the others.

She was used to the ribbing, the jeers and calls from other sailors. Women after all were said to be cursed on a ship, a redhead all the worse but it meant they stayed away from her which was good, she'd keep her head down and get on with her job. In any confined space, it is easy to get to know those about you and by the time the storm hit hard Kendra knew felt she knew enough of the crew. There was always secrets of course and the strange feeling of foreboding never once left her.

The morning after the storm seemed to be filled with a silence rarer than any she had met before. The rigging was checked and her hands felt burned and sore from doing her part on the mizzen stay but she'd not complain once, it would bear her no good at any rate. Pushing her goggles atop her brown leather pilots cap revealed the black patch over her left eye, her hair in many long plaits was pulled back and fastened with a thin leather string. Her clothing was never feminine, loose and many layers, she wore knee length breeches and boots, shirt, vest and jacket ... all worn and restitched.

Everyone that lingered in the mess smelled alike to her now, the stench of sweat and unwashed bodies pervaded the air but there was more than that. The Captain was missing and she didn't so much as blink her one good eye. Call her superstitious but maybe there was something to those stories after all.
"Ship is haunted, a new capt'in won't do us no good" she quipped sitting herself down to eat the muck that passed for food, she shoveled the first spoon into her mouth and looked about her. Was the ship haunted? Was it more than that? Someone had to take control but who ... who was better for the job than any one else? Steps right leg was probably a better bet than most of them here, she smirked to herself but if a name had to be called ... "Saffron!" she called out before takin another mouthful.

Teo Torriatte

This could be a wonderful new beginning...

Luna was more at home in the air than on the ground, having been the daughter of another captain and spent much of her youth getting to know every nook and cranny of his ship. Now in her eighteenth year, she had more or less filled out into a fairly attractive young woman, with long raven hair, pale skin and a slender figure, with smallish breasts and just enough curves to not be mistaken for a man. She was wearing a simple affair of a fairly tight, white blouse and a skirt that ended well above the knee.. not out of vanity but out of necessity, as she was well aware that her heritage as a captain's daughter would get her no favor on this ship, that she would have to work along side everyone else.

If anything, it might get her less favor, as her father and Madison were known to have been rivals. But Luna tended to stay out of her father's affairs. She had herself to worry about now, and she was just fine with having to make her own way.

Well, she had been fine until the the captain turned up missing, anyway. She had been doing a pretty good job of mingling with the crew, but she was quiet and shy, and tended to keep to herself except to say a soft 'hullo' or 'please pass the bucket' or some such thing. Even the storm, itself, fairly brutal as it was, hadn't really phased Luna all that much... her earliest memories were of falling asleep in very similar conditions, and she could still hear her father's voice telling her everything was going to be alright. Her father had never been wrong until today.

And now everyone was getting together to elect a new captain... and here was Luna with no ties to anyone whatsoever and with a possibly perceived chip on her shoulder thanks to the former rivalry between her father and the missing captain.

A wonderful new beginning, indeed...

Almost as an afterthought, she whirled around and gestured literally at random, "May as well be That Girl Analise," before she found a spot to herself from which to watch the election play itself out.

That Girl Analise

Analise smiles softly "I thank ye, but my kind's suited t' kitchen work" she eyed the crowd "An' don' make any o' yer 'woman' jokes, neither. There're more men in that kitchen than me!" she laughed. "No, I think Falanor's suited t'the type,"

Mr Bigglesworth

Mr. B. winked at Ana "ahh, I thinks you'd do a fine job, but I also think Sarena would make an excellent choice."

Kazyth

Well.  This would be interesting.  First time on an airship, that was certain.  Hell, first time off the farm, really.  Being a man who was used to stable ground under his feet, it was all he could do to make it to the railing and empty his lunch, rather than have it splatter all over the deck when the airship lifted off.  Not that the view of grown flying away from him did any good to help settle matters.  A swig of water and a spit over the side (which sadly hit an unlucky stevadore down below) later, and he was right as rain again.  Yep.  Right as rain, just hanging here in the sky, and totally not thinking at all about the ship suddenly dropping like a rock onto the... yes, onto the rocks below.  Nope, not even a little.

"... why did I look?"

Oh, wait.  No time to be sick again, they're voting for the Captain, right?  Yeah.  Yeah, Captain.  Bronzed muscles flexed idly as he sat there on a barrel, coiling a length of rope carefully, sweat already trickling down his bare chest and arms.  Gotta give it it's due, all that farm work at least gave him a body worth lookin' at.  "I... I don't know anyone here, honestly.  But Sarena seems to be trusted.  That works for me."  Aaaaand that appeared to be all he had to say on the matter, after which he set aside the rope and used a bandanna to tie back his loose and somewhat shaggy chestnut hair.
A rose by any other name... still has thorns you can prick someone with. - Me.


Ryven

He'd found the listing in the newspaper though it was rather anonymous as to who he would be working for.  The day he was to embark, he showed up to find he'd be working on an airship.  "Well, would you look at that?"  He said more to himself than anyone else as he stared up at it's grand scale.  It wasn't long before he set about learning his way around the kitchen within the ship.  It seemed workable enough though it needed a little touching up.  The only inhabitant thus far was a rather old looking automaton who carried cans of preserved food stuffs to a pot to dump them inside.  It's metallic limbs whirred as it moved, opening the cans, dumping them in a large steam kettle, and then dropping them in a garbage chute to be shuttled down to the refuse chamber.  Ryven took a peek into the kettle it worked over.   The slop inside looked a rather ominous greyish color as it bubbled away, and the smell was as unappealing as its color.

Luckily for Ryven, there was a dry storage that had been well kept because it seemed the kitchen automaton had not ventured there.  In little time at all, he had whipped up a batch of small chocolate tartlets.  The fresh supplies that had arrived just before departure seemed to supplement the necessary ingredients he needed to finish the desserts.  "Well, at least they'll have something sweet to wipe that awful taste from their mouth with," he said.  He stowed the desserts in the refrigerator before retiring to his provided room.

It was the next day when he woke to find all the other passengers and crew gathered in a panic.  The captain was gone?  The ship hadn't been gone but a day and the voyage was already going awry.  "How about Kendra?"  He said.  "I hear she is handy behind the wheel of a ship."

He left the others to find a meager breakfast spread that made his eye twitch slightly.  Toast that was cold and soggy from butter.  The jam had to be as old as the ship.  The tea tasted bitter, and the oatmeal was too heavy on the cinnamon.  What was that blasted robot up to?  "We have to get these people some better food," he muttered to himself and went to the kitchen straight away.

Trieste

#10
Votes
Sarena - 6
Kendra - 4
Starlequin - 1
Saffron - 2
That Girl Analise - 1
Falanor - 1
Remiel - 1

Yet to Vote
Beguile's Mistress, Cyrano Johnson, Falanor, James Moriarty, Kazyth, Kendra, Kyrsa, Lord Mayerling, Luna, Mithlomwen, Moirae, Mr Bigglesworth, Niferbelle, Remiel, Ryven, Saffron, Sarena, Starlequin, SunshineSparkle, That Girl Analise, ThatRPGuy, The Last Standing, Valerian

Lord Mayerling

Mayerling’s old gray eyes blinked slowly, silently giving his respects to the Captain and the skies to which he now belonged. It wasn’t the first time a captain had been lost on one of his voyages, though the event was far from expected. Ironically, it made Mayerling feel twenty years younger, when once he had plied the same skies in ships even more flimsy than the Ida Leigh.

He puffed a long draw on his pipe, his legs bending instinctively as the Ida Leigh caught a warm draft and surged to the right. Something told him that he was the only one aboard who actually got any sleep the previous night. Still, morning came with sad revelation. “May the winds be forever at your back, Captain Madison. May you and Ida be forever joined in infinite eternity.”

Mayerling knew better than to be panicked or angry. When a ship is in the sky, only her crew matters; they must now be everything Ida Leigh needed. The prospect actually amused him; one last adventure for an old sailor.

His knee made a distinctive hiss and rattle as he joined the other passengers that had gathered on the poop deck: the hiss from the actuator engaging, causing the internal gears to grind together as his knee kicked forward, allowing him to walk. He smiled as he found his man, as if there had ever been any doubt. He put his hand on the shoulder of Remiel. “You look a sturdy mate. Something tells me you didn’t let the storm wet your pantaloons.”

SunshineSparkle

This mystery-filled sea life was still unfamiliar to her.Why exactly had she wanted in? Never had the question about the real reasons behind her desire to join the ship crossed her thoughts.Curiosity and a quest of experience,these were the it factor driving her to jump head first in this adventure.She had of course heard about the curse on the Ida Leigh,as a rational and sensible kind of woman,certainly such unfounded rumors could not affect her convictions

The ground shifted unsteadily beneath Sunshine's feet as she entered the room,footsteps barely audible amidst the chaos and confusion dominating the ship for hours now,a teeth-shattering headache made her rub her temples in frustration,hoping to ease her pain if only the slightest.She had been working with the rest of her crew repairing whatever damage could be fixed
A sigh escaped from between her lips at the aching of her sleepless eyes.Captain Madison's disappearance was as intriguing as his mysterious persona,no one knew for sure if he's a he or a she.None of this mattered now as their only preoccupation was finding a decent replacement for the captain

Food did not even register in her mind as she sipped on her coffee.Everything appeared to be normal aboard,each keeping their insecurities and anger to themselves.Eh,she was doing just the same
"Me thinkin' Sarena good for the job.The woman appears to know her way 'round a ship " She left her coffee cup in a salute gesture,wanting to mark a new beginning of their continuing journey.She wished for a semblance of piece after this night's event





O&O    A&A    Avatars

Niferbelle

Niferbelle glanced down at her calloused hands as the others talked, sighing at how ragged her nails had become though there was no relief for that. When you had to work for a living, your grooming habits became secondary to keeping the ship in the air. The wind blew strands of hair around her face and she sighed, reaching up to tuck them under her cap and keep them out of her eyes. One of things she liked best about being on a crew was the sense of order, of everyone knowing their place, and now, without a captain, chaos threatened to ensue. They could appoint another captain, of course, but there were no guarantees that the person they chose would be good at the job or even have the best interest of the crew in mind. She frowned slightly, irritated by all that had transpired.

"Talk about your proverbial shot in the dark," she quipped, her eyes sweeping over the  crew as she tried to make her choice. "Kendra, you seem sensible enough. You have my vote."

Galactic Druid

"Thank progress, another living person."Guy said as he saw Ryven. "I don't know shit about these things, help me out." He was literally wresting with the automaton, trying to win out space in front of the stove. "I didn't know if they hired anyone else for the kitchen, I was stating to worry it was just me and this old thing." It wasn't exactly east to get to know his new crewmates as he fought the thing off, but he tried, none the less. "Did you hear the ship's already lacking a captain? I wonder what they're going to do about it. Personally, I think they should put that lass Sarena in charge, but that's really not my call to make. All I want to do is, get away from the stove you outdated piece of, sorry, all I want to do is cook."
A/As last updated 11/27 - Halfway past busy season!

James Moriarty

The skies had surely never seen a man less at home in them than James.  Thin and mousy, his unkempt, thin dull brown hair plastered to his forehead, he ambled unsteadily down the squeaky hallway towards the mess hall.  Lurching against the door frame with a shift in the ship's position, he braced himself unsteadily and pulled off his absurdly thick, round glasses and rubbed the clear glass clean with his shirt.  Pushing them back onto the bridge of his nose, he peered at those assembled.  He had originally intended to come to try to stuff something down his throat, but already he was almost visibly green, stomach lurching in his belly.  Hearing rumor of the disappearance of the captain seemed only to unsettle him more.

Sitting at the end of one of the long benches, he leaned his head into his hands and then took a small sip of water from a copper cup, dulled with age and bearing the dents and nicks of many years of use.  Looking up, he squinted as he watched them tossing up their opinions on the best successor to lead this journey.  When there was a lull in the conversation, his reedy voice could be heard.  "Eh, uhm, I th-th-think that K-kendra seems like a n-nice choice.  We need a c-c-c-captain who knows her way around the s-s-sky."  He glanced nervously around and quickly buried his heads in his hands again.

Remiel

Remiel had to be summoned to the waist of the ship where all the others had gathered; as usual, he had been in the ship's engine room, shoulder-deep in the furnaces that produced the steam that kept the Ida Leigh airborne.  His face was a mask of greasy soot, his apparel, a pair of blackened and singed heavy overalls and a set of complementary thick leather gloves.  Hefting a five-sixteenths-cubit spanner over his shoulder, he peeled his goggles from his eyes, revealing the only bit of pink in an otherwise soot-and-ash-covered face.

He seemed nonplussed when informed of the captain's untimely disappearance.  Rubbing his nose with a grimy finger, he ruminated about possible candidates for Captain Madison's replacement.  "I'll throw my lot in with Kendra," he said with a shrug.  "She seems like a fine, upstanding woman."

Autumn Sativus

Saffron listened from a distance as the crew began taking votes on the new captain. So soon after they had discovered Captain Mad missing too. It seemed like something was wrong with this picture, but what other choice did they have than to appoint someone else and continue on their journey. It was a sad day aboard the Ida Leigh, but she could find no tears to shed for the lost captain, though a part of her wished that she could.

"Sarena will make a good Captain." she piped up from her distant post, nodding to the woman. She looked trustworthy.
Us against the world
Just a couple sinners making fun of hell


~~A&A(updated March 2021)~~Tales~~Wants~~O&O~~Wiki~~

Valerian

Val was a practical sort, or at least tried to be.  The captain's disappearance shook her, that much was plain, but panic would do no one any good.  Without a new captain, however temporary, they'd only find themselves in a worse situation, she was sure.

From her perch up in the rigging, she listened closely to the discussion below, brushing back a stray lock that had slipped from her ponytail.  Her interest was very genuine, of course, for the captain affected the entire atmosphere on any ship; but it was also a useful way to cover the worst of her uneasiness.  While she knew her job and considered herself a more modern sailor than some, unconcerned with such old-fashioned things as curses, she was still not able to dismiss this lightly.  If enough of the crew believed, that would be enough to bring danger on them all.

While she didn't agree with Kendra's idea that their choice of captain didn't mean much, Val did think she'd had the right idea with her vote.  "Yes, let Saffron have the job, if she wants it," she said, climbing nimbly down to the deck, her leggings and tunic no hindrance to her movements.  "Even if the ship is ill-fated -- curses can be broken as well as cast, I say.  And if we must turn back, that's no reason to despair in itself.  We'll still come through this well enough, I daresay."
"To live honorably, to harm no one, to give to each his due."
~ Ulpian, c. 530 CE

Mithlomwen

(Been dealing with RL things so I haven't had a chance to write up a proper post, but I wanted to vote so I'm not holding up the works) 

Mith glanced around and nodded her head in agreement with many.  "Kendra seems like a good choice." 
Baby, it's all I know,
that your half of the flesh and blood that makes me whole...

Kye

Kyrsa said a silent prayer for the former Captain, but in truth she wouldn’t grieve much for the man.  She’d barely known him… or her.  She couldn’t believe that something like this had happened on her first cruise on the Ida Leigh, she should have stayed on her last ship.  She had a feeling this one was already cursed, and feared that it would take her down with it.

She brushed a strand of fiery red hair from her eyes as she glanced from one crew member to another, a thoughtful frown on her face as they quickly turned to picking a new Captain.  They needed leadership, it was true, but she didn’t know enough about the men and women she was serving with to make an educated choice.  She’d just have to hope that everyone else knew what they were doing for now. 

Sarena looks to be able enough, she’ll do,” she said finally.  Time to get back to work…

Trieste

#21
Votes
Sarena - 7
Kendra - 5
Starlequin - 1
Saffron - 2
That Girl Analise - 1
Falanor - 1
Remiel - 1

Yet to Vote
Beguile's Mistress, Cyrano Johnson, Falanor, James Moriarty, Kazyth, Kendra, Kyrsa, Lord Mayerling, Luna, Mithlomwen, Moirae, Mr Bigglesworth, Niferbelle, Remiel, Ryven, Saffron, Sarena, Starlequin, SunshineSparkle, That Girl Analise, ThatRPGuy, The Last Standing, Valerian

Falanor

Falanor climbed down from the Crow's nest, a scowl on his face.  Of all the lousy luck...Cap'n missin'...new lads and lasses all about... The deep lines of his weather beaten, leathery skin made him look more angry than concerned, as he adjusted his belt and cutlass when his feet made contact with the deck.  "Either Sarena or Kendra would make fine Cap'n's, if an ya askin' my opinion," he grumbled as he scratched the days old stubble on his neck.

Realizing that he had to make a decision one way or the other, "Yet, I find myself havin' to back Kendra."  With that he walked his way to the abaft to collect some holystones to do deck work with, Blasted ship ain't gonna clean itself... he thought in another deep scowl.

The Last Standing

Trudging into the room with outstretched arms, Last let forth a tremendous yawn before sleepily inquiring what had happened to the strange, albeit capable captain.

Well, if there wasn't any risk, I wouldn't be here right now. Last rubbed his stubbled chin, feigning concern when deep down he was excited. The whole no work no pay mentality didn't swing with him, and now with the captain and accompanying rules gone, the sky-life was about to become a lot more interesting.

Late to the scene, Last saw there were two people close to becoming captain. Wanting to keep the race close, he cast his lot in with Kendra.

"I'm off to do some maintenance on the buoyancy conducting aerofoils," chirped the young man over his shoulder. He turned the corner and proceeding back to his quarters to finish his nap.

Sarena

None of this settled well with her.  A captain going missing before the ship was out a full day?  This did not bode well for the rest of their journey, now did it? 

No, it never does.

Sarena finished rolling up a length of rope leaned her shoulder against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other as the others started naming their choice for the new captain.  She was surprised to hear her own name called, more than a few times.  She wasn't sure if it was a job she wanted or not, not that she'd turn her nose up at it.  The votes from her ship mates went a long way in boosting her confidence, though. 

She nodded her head in Saffron's, "I dare say, she'd be a better fit."
I can go from southern belle to ghetto thug faster than you can say "Bless your heart".
Status:  All caught up and loving it!