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Author Topic: H.M.A.S Badger ~ Online Æther Ship ~ Member's Wanted  (Read 36997 times)
Major Dan Badger
Deck Hand
*
United Kingdom United Kingdom


"Is this about his pot plants?"


« Reply #25 on: March 05, 2010, 09:59:16 am »

MAJOR DAN HERE STOP ON EXPEDITION TO ORIENT STOP ALL ARE WELCOME TO JOIN OUR FINE SHIP STOP EVEN PASSENGERS STOP OTTOMAN EMPIRE HAS MANY DELIGHTS STOP YOUR FINE ADDITIONS TO THE LOG ARE MUCH APRECIATED STOP POST NEXT UPDATE WHEN CARAVAN REACHES NEXT TELEGRAPH STATIKN STOP
Logged

Major Dan Badger
Inventor, Explorer, Extrodinaire
Recipient of the Golden Cog for Outstanding Bravery and Valour
MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #26 on: March 05, 2010, 11:29:08 am »

Having been welcomed aboard, MW followed his nose, and found that Aetheric vessels were laid out much like their troposphaeric counterparts; thus; the Security  Commander's Office and Security headquarters were located at the radial midline, right alongside the null-gravity corridor running the length of the center inside of the fuselage of the ship; thus, they could expect a rapid-response route in an emergency  without the burden of gravitic interference, but still enjoy the artificial gravity that held away from the centerline.

MW steeled himself, re-straightened everything, and then knocked on the Security Commandant's door. After he had presented himself and given is career and history (Imperial Air Marines, followed by Royal Indan Air Service, where he was promoted to sergeant and added to the then-fledgeling Air Security Service, where he served twenty years, then was furloughed when the Empire's finances went belly-up just after the last war; recently honorably discharged, he bore the Silver Knife of the Service and had decided to try his hand at the Aetheric end of things).

The Commander released M.W. to the Security Supply corporal,who issued him his uniform. A smart kakhi broadcloth shirt; leather belt-and-pistol harness; Black Oak Truncheon, nightstick type; strap for the Khukuri's frog to be fastened to the pistol harness, so he could continue wearing it on the left side;holster to fit his .454-caliber Webley; Rubber ammo for the Webley. "Can't 'ave you goin' about shootin' 'oles in th' ship when we're in vacuum, now, can we?; loop for the nightstick; nickel-and-gold-wash "HMAS Badger, Security Watch" badge with the Senior Officer's oak leaf fan beneath the central star; Wellington boots, identical to his own, so he now had two pair and no excuse to not  have a shined pair at all times ("blast it!" he thought to himself), and finally, a brand-new Steel Pith Helmet, painted White,with white headband and leather chinstrap.

He was then asked to follow a young junior security officer to his assigned area, namely the First-class Passenger Section and Bridge; his duty office, in which he was to serve much the same function as Sergeant to a younger lieutenant, the both of them in charge of four squads of four seven security officers each, was located at the outer terminus of the of the Stair to the Bridge entry Hatchway. Seven officers on, seven off for rest and recuperation. "This is rather an easy billet, so far, Senior officer - May I call you "Em?"

"Of course sir!" like you wouldn't do it soon enough anyway, kid, he thought to himself, but not unkindly; He found he rather liked the efficient young Lieutenant.

"Right, this is a pretty easy billet most of the time, Em, but if we ever get boarded, or there are other crises of that sort, the action could get really sharp really quickly. RIAS? Good, good, glad to have somebody with a bit of experience with sharp action. I'm Imperial Air Marines too, but a lot  newer than you are, no offense intended."

"None Taken, sir"

"Right. Good. lets get you set up with your two squads, then, shall we?"

Some time later, Bailey was standing his assigned watch, in the assigned place, namely The Ship's salon, where he was to stand and be respectful and friendly and most of all alert and sober, Despite the well-heeled passengers milling about getting drunk, falling over  their own feet, and spilling their drinks on the people whom they wanted to strike up a conversation with, and keep them from havinga major fisticuff or melee, and also look out for stowaways. "we've had reports of some young woman or other, skulking about the ship," the Lieutenant had said, "So keep your eyes open."

MW didnt notice anything untoward for most of the shift; he noticed one young male, however, who was mainly staring worriedly out of the windows as the ship began to leave the atmosphere of Earth behind. Poor fellow looks  downright nauseous; spacesick, perhaps? Bailey went to the bar, requested a tumbler with ice and a "maldamaia mix" (mostly just watered brandy, but some fruit juice for the sugar as well, to perk the 'patient' up, and two of the requisite pills. He called a steward over and askedhim to deliver the  cure to teh lad, saying, 'e needs somwhat to run on, poor kid's nearly turning green...' he wondered if there were a ship's doctor on board yet.
« Last Edit: March 05, 2010, 11:37:11 am by MWBailey » Logged

Walk softly and carry a big banjo...

""quid statis aspicientes in infernum"
Theosophus Grey
Snr. Officer
****
United States United States


Commanding the FAAS Widow's Son


« Reply #27 on: March 05, 2010, 01:20:13 pm »

Safely underway at last, Lt. Grey gave the helm a final course correction before retiring to the captain's ready room adjacent to the bridge.  Seating himself at the rolltop desk and absently popping the top button of his jet-black naval blouse, he swung the heavy chair around to enjoy the ecliptic sunrise over the Earth's dark side as they cleared the upper atmosphere.  Sighing, he set the moment aside and turned to the pile of papers on the desk.

Old Dan was a fine fellow and good commander, but not much of a businessman; there were unpaid bills, unanswered letters, an indescipherable financial recordbook from the ship's construction, tsk tsk.  "Well, can't sort out the past until we resolve the present", he muttered to himself.  "Job one is getting this ship safely to Victoria on Mare Erythraeum".  Glancing at Percival Lowell's 1895 map of the Red Planet mounted above the desk, he mused what the dry sea would look like first hand.

Knowing the crew to be desperately short of hands due to the unscheduled launch, he set himself to looking through the files for clues as to who might be qualified for reassignment, perhaps retired officers such as himself and Mr. Lemming, or...  Wait, what's this then, a very polite letter from a Ms. Iphigenia Askew, a ship's brat like himself and asking for passage in exchange for skilled assistance.  "Yeoman!" Grey barked out the ready room door to the young blonde woman in crisp whites standing at attention there.  "Check in with the quartermaster, find where a Ms. Askew has been berthed, and pass along my compliments and a request that she dine with me this evening in the captain's mess."

And until then, these damnable papers...
Logged

A gentleman and a scholar, albeit heavily armed.
Theosophus Grey
Snr. Officer
****
United States United States


Commanding the FAAS Widow's Son


« Reply #28 on: March 05, 2010, 01:52:56 pm »

MAJOR DAN HERE STOP ON EXPEDITION TO ORIENT STOP ALL ARE WELCOME TO JOIN OUR FINE SHIP STOP EVEN PASSENGERS STOP OTTOMAN EMPIRE HAS MANY DELIGHTS STOP YOUR FINE ADDITIONS TO THE LOG ARE MUCH APRECIATED STOP POST NEXT UPDATE WHEN CARAVAN REACHES NEXT TELEGRAPH STATIKN STOP

TO: MAJOR DAN BADGER, BY WAY OF ISTANBUL

SIR MESSAGE RECEIVED STOP FINANCIER NIGHTSHADE ABOARD AND TAKEN CHARGE STOP CREW SHORTHANDED OTHERWISE WELL UNDERWAY STOP PLEASE SEND INSTRUCTIONS FOR MOTOR LAUNCH STOP --- LT GREY
Logged
sevenlies
Officer
***
United States United States


Hier kommt der panzermensch!

sevenlies
WWW
« Reply #29 on: March 05, 2010, 02:02:16 pm »

{ OOC - Thanks to the moderators for moving our thread to the proper forum.  Smiley  I've opened up the game's OOC thread for discussion and character descriptions, etc.  It can be found here.  We now return to our regularly scheduled RP. }

The gentleman turned slightly at Iphigenia's request, still keeping his eyes on the window.  "Oh, oh yes miss, I'm fine, just fine."  He turned away from her back to the window again without another word.  She looked him over - the man seemed practically green - but since he gave no further indication that he wished to be disturbed, she shrugged and finished her tea with no other words.  Making her way back to the tables, she eyed the comestibles, and spying a young lady placing out biscuits, she snatched one of the warm treats up and munched it on the way back to her room.  No use staying in here.  I need to start asking questions, and no one in this group will be able to answer them.  However will I be able to get to the mechanics and such without getting in trouble?  People working on local aether ships before may have heard about Morgan's disappearance.

Back in her cabin she opened her trunk and proceeded to pull out her nightgown and toiletries.  Might as well stay in with a book for the rest of the evening.  I have no interest in getting all gussied up for some stuffy dinner where I have to sit with some blowhards talking about their financial dealings.  Oh, how I miss Tom.  She also checked her weapons - a rapier and a few daggers.  As she removed her hat and began to unlace her brown top-of-clothes corset (the latest rage in New Orleans, along with Dr. Limbell's Patented Self Lacing Device), there came a sharp knock at the door.

Startled, Iphigenia let out a small yelp.  Composing herself, she opened the door to find a young blonde women in whites there - one of the ship's crew.  "Oh!  Hello!  May I help you?"
"Ma'am, are you all right?", the woman asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh yes, of course.  You just gave me a small fright when you knocked.  I wasn't expecting anyone to arrive, that's all.  How may I be of service?"
"You're Ms. Iphigenia Askew?"
"Yes...is there a problem?"
"Oh, no, not at all ma'am.  I have a message for you from Captain Grey."  Iphigenia blinked.  That wasn't what she expected to hear.  The crewperson continued, "He would like to pass along his compliments and extend an invitation to dine with him in the captain's mess this evening."  Now Iphigenia really was stunned.  My goodness.  Dine with the captain?  Maybe he knows who I am?  Maybe he would be able to answer some questions about Morgan!  The woman, waiting on a response, gently shook her shoulder and asked, "Ma'am?  Are you sure you're all right?"
Looking at the woman, she stuttered out, "Oh - um - well - that's very nice of the captain, and I will gladly accept his invitiation.  My only concern is that I don't exactly have the proper clothing for fine dining." 
The crew member shrugged.  "I wouldn't be too concerned about it, Ms. Askew.  Whatever you have will be just fine, I'm sure."  Iphigenia nodded - of course.  With a ship's captain, they would be primarily concerned about function, not high fashion.  "What time should I be ready, and where is the captain's mess?"
"Around seven-ish, I would say.  Don't worry about finding it, one of us will escort you."
Iphigenia nodded again, and said, "I will be ready then.  Thank you!"  With that, the crewwoman nodded, turned on her heel, and strode away down the hall.

Closing the door, she plopped down on the bed, and stared at the floor in amazement.  Well, this helps.  Now to decide what to ask the Captain, and what to wear.  I believe the pinstripe may be best.  She went over to her trunk and began to rummage in earnest...
Logged

Iphigenia P. Askew
Founding member of The Ladies Supernatural Exterminators Association - New Orleans Local no. 13

Seven lies multiplied by seven
Multiplied by seven again
Seven angels with seven trumpets
Send them home on the morning train
Theosophus Grey
Snr. Officer
****
United States United States


Commanding the FAAS Widow's Son


« Reply #30 on: March 05, 2010, 02:12:35 pm »

"Yes, what is it yeoman?" Grey asked as the overly-perky blonde crewwoman re-appeared at the door of his ready room.

"Sir!  The watch officer begs to report that we've taken aboard a passenger in mid-air, a Mr. Bailey, arriving late for his duty with the Security Office! Sir!"

Grey cast a jaundiced eye at the yeoman; "One 'sir' will suffice, Perkins" he drawled; "Was there anything else?"

"Yes, sir! Ms. Askew has accepted your invitation to dine!" "Very well, carry on then."  As the yeoman returned to her post, Grey picked up the speaking tube and, blowing hard to clear it and sound the whistle at the far end, barked out "Central! Give me the Security Office!"  The young Lieutenant on duty there was properly informed as to the situation, and promised to convey Grey's welcome-aboard to Mr. Bailey, as well as his invitation to also dine in the captain's mess that evening.  

That reminds me, he thought - picking up the tube once again, Grey connected with the kitchens to order a hot meal at 1900 for... four; I suppose etiquette requires me to include Nightshade.  "Right you are, sir", the Cook responded.  "I've a new girl here, just started today, I'll send her along to set up and serve."  "Very well", Grey replied, before restoring the mouthpiece to it's hook by the desk and turning back to his charts.
Logged
Cornelius Nightshade
Guest
« Reply #31 on: March 05, 2010, 07:22:39 pm »

Tomas Halks, and newly appointed Purser aboard the H M S Badger, had to all but run to keep up with the gentlemen as he marched down the passageway towards the captains mess, red faced in furry.
Halks had held the rank of Purser on several ships and up in till now believed that he could handle even the most demanding passengers. That is till he had the great misfortune of meeting Mr. Cornelius Nightshade.

He had spent the last ten minutes enduring the most deadly tongue lashing he had ever herd, and Halks and served three years in the merchant marines! Now Mr. Nightshade, still blood spitting mad was going to report this mess to the Captain! Arriving at the door Mr. Nightshade walked right in bellowing for the captain.

  “GRAY! At last, that man right their, I want him brought up on charges, dereliction or duties! Incompetence! And gross insubordination! Once more I want THAT man off this ship at the first port. Halks your bloody will lucky we don’t flog  men anymore God knows you deserve that too for what you have done!


Logged
Theosophus Grey
Snr. Officer
****
United States United States


Commanding the FAAS Widow's Son


« Reply #32 on: March 05, 2010, 07:40:58 pm »

Lieutenant Grey, having raised his eyes from the telegraph dispatches he was reading upon Nightshade's entry, quietly set them down, removed his reading glasses, and took up the glass of single malt whiskey on the table before him before returning his cold gaze to the two men, one livid and the other pale as death itself.  "Now...", he began, swirling the amber fluid to release its heady vapors, "... what's all this then?" <sip>
Logged
Cornelius Nightshade
Guest
« Reply #33 on: March 05, 2010, 07:51:38 pm »


Ill tell you what he’s done!
Shortly before we left port, I received word from my man Marcus Puddy that everything I had instructed him to send aboard this ship for my voyage  had in fact arrived on time, everything.
 
{ a sharp glare at Halks }

Now, I come to find out that this incompetent,, fool! has lost my brandy! A very expansive case of brandy as a matter of fact! He claims that he and his crew of red handed thieves have searched high an low for it, that its not on this ship! Indeed! Not on the ship no, I shall not be surprised to find out that this pirate and his gang of scoundrels has drunk my  brandy! My brandy!
  Well Gray!
 I demand satisfaction!
 Deal, with him if you please.”
Logged
Theosophus Grey
Snr. Officer
****
United States United States


Commanding the FAAS Widow's Son


« Reply #34 on: March 05, 2010, 08:05:24 pm »

"I shall look into this immediately, of course", returned Grey, leaning back into the leather club chair and swirling his glass.  "Mr. Halks."

"Sir?" replied Halks, swallowing heavily.

"Has any of the crew shown any greater-than-usual signs of inebriation?"

"Certainly not, sir."

"Well, there you have it Nightshade, it's either still safe somewhere aboard or was lifted at the docks, in any case of no further concern of mine.  You really should keep a better hold on your luggage when you travel.  Tsk. That will be all, Mr. Halks"  <sip>  "Would you care for drink before dinner, Nightshade?  You look as if you could use one."
Logged
MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #35 on: March 05, 2010, 08:21:28 pm »

Bailey was still on duty in the Salon when he received the Captain's "invitation" to dine, and he interpreted it correctly as an implied request; the young rank-and-file officer who delivered the verbal invitation specified that although it had not been said that it was formal dress, the Security Commander felt it  to be a good idea to wear the "fancy dress" version of his current uniform, but with added  "appropriate additions" from his collection of whatever medals, former badges, etc., would look good and fill out the uniform. "

Are we in trouble, Top?" the young fellow asked, "I hear that man Mr. Noightshade's a real --!" he fell silent as Bailey waved urgently.

"That will do for now, Officer Brumley," Bailey said severely, after scanning the younger man's name and rank from his badge. "Reserve your judgement of a Company Official until he and we get settled in, lad, everyone's bound to be a bit on edge just now. Please send my compliments to the Commander if you will, and inform him of the recent order. You may go."

"Aye Sarge!  Thankyou!"

Baileyfought the urge to shake his head. If the young lads're all like young Brumley, he thought, We'll never lack for enthusiasm, but Gods, what'll we do in a scrap?

He thought about the "appropriate bits" he could add to his uniform. Certainly the award ribbon block; the silver-chased fancy bamboo-pattern Kothi-Mora sheath for the Khukuri; his new standard Wellies, and put the old gilded R.I.A.S.S. buckle on the harness; finally, the Detective Sergeant pins for his epaulets. Those should make a suitably plain, yet appropriately impressive ensemble,he thought. Impressive .Oh, and the new helmet, of course--! he stopped all extra-conscious thought as he caught sight of a very suspicious-acting young woman waiting tables and being a bit free about "grazing" the tray of hors d' veurves. Composing himself, and loosening his truncheon in its loop, he picked his way through the boisterous travelling elite to confront this character...
Logged
Zuttle D. Curious
Snr. Officer
****


« Reply #36 on: March 05, 2010, 08:37:36 pm »

    I wonder if they purposely make these uniforms uncomfortable. I don't think they could make them this bad unless they were trying Zuttle thought to herself as she tried to keep her balance weaving between the crowded tables. Her eyes wandered enough to catch the sight of an officer walking toward her. She turned her eyes back down again. Deuce! They must've... No I haven't done anything too suspicious... He's not after me. Must just want a nice spot of tea or looking into some matter or other... Keep calm. Avoid eye contact. Advising herself, she took her almost empty tray and began heading back toward the kitchen. Which with all her luck happened to be on the other side of this Officer. Taking a shallow breath she hurriedly attempted to walk past him in the narrow walkway.
Logged
MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #37 on: March 05, 2010, 10:33:42 pm »

Why do they always try to walk past? Bailey wondered to himself, and then, mustn't  accuse 'er until there's proof; 's not a good idea to rile th' waitstaff, they're some o' the best investigators and informers o the suspicious passengers and such, if you listen right and can get 'em to help out. He stood in the middle of the corridor, and just sort of filled it up, the way old-hand coppers just somehow get a way of doing after awhile. Right, time da play "Officer thickenclumsie."

"Pardon me, Miss...?" he drawled; he waited for her name, and got none, so he forged on. "We've 'ad reports of a sus'picious female on board, skulkin' 'round, grazin' off the wait platters, like that'n such. You seen anybody like 'at?" Having already noticed her nervousness and apparent fear of looking him in the eye (not like most people who don't want to stop what they're doing to talk, but like someone who's scared to death of possible consequences), he watched carefully for signs of bolting or verifiable falsehood, and especially pieced her face together for his memory by catching glimses as she turned her face this way and that, though always downward.
« Last Edit: March 05, 2010, 10:44:07 pm by MWBailey » Logged
Zuttle D. Curious
Snr. Officer
****


« Reply #38 on: March 06, 2010, 12:05:34 am »

    Trying to squeeze to the left didn't work, nor to the right. She looked up at him, He had no intention of moving past her. Zuttle's face lowered, a nervous look overcame her.

    "Pardon me, Miss...?" She heard him drawl, but her thoughts were passing through her flustered mind. Deuce, Deuce, Deuce, he was after me... Calm down. Answer the question. She looked straight up at the officer, still looking caught-off-guard, She opened her mouth to reply with her name. "We've 'ad reports of a sus'picious female on board, skulkin' 'round, grazin' off the wait platters, like that'n such. You seen anybody like 'at?"

    Her eyes narrowed. She glared at him. "First, It is very very rude to cut someone off when you asked them a question, if you would have waited a second longer I would have told you, my name is Curious. Miss Zuttle D. Curious. You should not be so impatient." She scolded. "Second, I've seen a young man, probably a couple years younger than myself snitching some of the food he probably ought'ent but I wasn't aware it was a crime to take biscuits with your tea, so I didn't stop him." Her demeanor lightened, from a scold to more of an annoyed conversing "As for a young woman fitting said description, I can think of one who was acting a bit off, very distracted like. But she wasn't snitching anything. And since when is "skulking 'round" as you put it, a crime?"
 
Logged
MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #39 on: March 06, 2010, 05:13:23 am »

Well, first off, there's a difference, a big 'un between simply grabbin' a tart or a slice o' toast , or in your example, a biscuit, and whats called "grazing;" the first one, thatsjust petty adventurous theft, not strictly legal, but not strictly IL-lega eitherl, if you get my drift. Grazing's where you get people eating several servings off each platter, usually on the sly, and almost always by somebody what didn't pay for passage or not for the bundle they're tryin' to sneak into." Bailey paused, then went on. "Weren't aware skulkin's a crime? Funny, that, since you can get arrested for it in most ports back dirtside, especially those that have military  contractors berthed in 'em." A real nervous nadine, this girl, he thought. Might bear watchin'.He took out his pad and pencil, and wrote "Zuttle D. Curious," andfollowed it on the same line with a few characters of devanagari , and then snapped it closed and stowed it in the pouch on his belt.

"Snappin' at the watch is not a good Idea, Miss Curious," he said, "because we 're trained to think about why people do things, and if it's something really annoying, like questioning the copper's intelligence and knowledge of the law, for example," he raised his eyebrows at her when he said this last bit, "We tend to wonder what was so special about the questions we were using, and wonder if teh suspect were in fact hiding something. Well, good afternoon, Miss, I'm sure you have better things to do than stand around talkin' to an old copper." He tipped the helmet to her, and stood aside to let her pass. "let us know if we can be of assistance to you, Miss Curious."
Logged
Cornelius Nightshade
Guest
« Reply #40 on: March 06, 2010, 05:14:26 am »

“, , , { stammering without uttering a sound},,,, Well, there you have it Nightshade!? no further concern of yours!? That will be ALL, Mr. Halks!?
I can’t for a moment, believe my ears! You will do NOTHING! This is an outrage and an insult. How dare you just brush me aside do you have any idea who you are speaking to! You ungrateful whelp, after I boosted your otherwise sagging career, third officer indeed!
This is the thanks I get! Just member this Gray { sticking out a finger in warning } what I make, I can jolly well unmake!
 Don’t for one minute think I will forget about this! I wont!
Don’t think you can just dismiss me like this! you cant! And
Don’t think this is over! its not!
AND AS FOR YOU! { turning to the cringing Mr. Halks }
YOU just try and stay out of my way!
Good day! ACTING captain Gray!”
With a curt nod Mr. Nightshade storms out in the hall bumping into the Stewart carrying a tea tray he used to serve the bridge officers. Nightshade disappears down the hall oblivious to the shattering china behind him.

That upstart to treat ME like that! No doubt thinks I wont come to dinner now, HA! Oh Ill still come all right.
If for no other reason but to make HIM uncomfortable!

« Last Edit: March 06, 2010, 05:57:18 am by Cornelius Nightshade » Logged
MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #41 on: March 06, 2010, 07:36:41 am »

Bailey gathered up the members of his squad from the Afternoon shift, then delivered them back to the Bridge Forward duty office, where he performed Roll Call for the evening and dinner shift, and gave the commander his note about Miss Curious via the speaking tube. Te commander told him to do nothing but observe, and for Bailey to pass the same instructions along to the squads at his duty station. They would all watch the young woman now, rather than assign one man to do the job. Where could she really go for now, anyway?

"There's somethin' wrong wi' that solution, said Bailey to himself as he dressed for teh dinner at the captain's table, even taking the portable treadle rotor from his pack and using it along with two ragwheels full of bobbin and Rouge polish, respectively, to polish and shine out the rust spots on teh Khukuri, anmd then to black, buff 'n' shine his new boots. Before long, he was humming the tune of Apple Blossom and tying a fresh bow tie onto the dress khaki shirt, and checking the shirt to be sure the ribbon block was straight; then he locked up and was down the corridor to the big dining room, and asking a steward for the location of the Captain's table, and going to stand  by it, realizing that he was in fact a bit too early. Only a few passengers had gathered, yet...
Logged
Zuttle D. Curious
Snr. Officer
****


« Reply #42 on: March 06, 2010, 02:49:09 pm »

    "John couldn't you please trade with me?! PLEASE?!" Zuttle begged,
    "No way Curious, If I don't have too, I don't want to be in the same room with, much less serving Mr. Nightshade's table, You are on your own."
    "Aw, come on, Mr. Nightshades probably more of a teddy bear than the other staff let on, It's Baily I have a problem with, but he won't have a problem with you, please?!" Her eyes glanced and saw the cook smiling, holding back a fit of laughing. "You are enjoying this, aren't you?" She said indignantly at him.
    "That I am." The cook smiled not looking up from his work.
    John didn't answer her, he just walked back out of the room to serve more tables.
    "The Special dinnerware is in the cabinet over there, there is a chart for place settings on the wall there, with a guy as finicky as Nightshade, I suggest you study it and make sure you don't have anything obviously wrong for him to get mad about." The cook said, still not looking up from his work.
     Zuttle sulked studying the chart, and sulked gathering the dishes, and sulked as she walked out of the kitchen. But the sulking stopped when she reached the proper table, There was already a man sitting there, His back was too her at the table, He wore a gleaming white Steel Pith helmet, and a uniform much like the Officer earlier. This day keeps getting better and better.
     "Should've guessed you were a military man, just by the way you assume things. But seeing you this early besides? I'd have to be stupid not to know it, without looking at your badges n' medals n' whatnot." Zuttle said rather dryly as she began to set the dishes in proper order, just as she had memorized it on the chart. "Mum use to have a military boyfriend, he'd always show up a half hour early. Said it came from being in the military. Wretched man 'e was."
Logged
sevenlies
Officer
***
United States United States


Hier kommt der panzermensch!

sevenlies
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« Reply #43 on: March 06, 2010, 04:55:21 pm »

Iphigenia checked her appearance in the polished brass mirror in her cabin.  Since she wasn't sure if it was 100% formal, she wore what she called her "semi-formal" outfit - a gray pinstriped skirt and long jacket, a crisp white blouse, a black velvet corset, and small-heeled black lace-up boots.  Her chestnut hair was twined atop her head, with a few locks allowed to cascade over her shoulders.  She smoothed finishing powder over her face and applied rose-scented lip balm, and as the final touch, she clipped her octopus chatelaine to her waistband under the jacket.  She looked over at her trunk - Should I wear the lace jabot?  No - too frilly and if I spill soup on it, It would be too difficult to clean.  As she turned from the mirror, there was a sharp rap at the door.  It was a crewmember, who tipped his cap to her and said, "Ms. Askew, I'm here to escort you to the captain's table."  She gave a little curtsy and smiled.  "Lead the way, good sir..."  He grinned and tipped his cap again.  "Halks, ma'am."

As they made the way to the room, she asked the crewmember, "Mr. Halks, have you worked on ships long?"
"Oh, yes ma'am.  Been working on ships my whole life, it seems like.  Started out on water, then moved to basic airships and blimps.  Worked on a few transcontinental aether ships but this is my first moon flight."
"Do you enjoy it?"
"Indeed I do!  Love the travel and seeing all the sights.  Major Badger didn't seem like too bad of a guy, but then again I only met him the one time, when I interviewed.  Captain Grey is a right good man, though.  Unlike SOME people."  Halks' voice shifted to indicate annoyance.
"Oh?  I'd like to know so I can stay away from whoever THAT is."  She laughed, trying to seem lighthearted, but she was very curious. 
Halks walked a little closer so she could hear his voice, which he'd dropped lower.  "Well, that Mr. Nightshade is a right...well, I won't say such things to a lady like yourself." 
"Oh, come now, Mr. Halks.  I may not look like it, but I grew up on an aether ship.  I've heard some right salty language."
"Really?  Which one?"
"The first United States transatlantic aether ship, the Clementine."
Halks drew back in shock.  "THE Clementine?  With Captain Chickering?"
"The same."
"Haha!  That's a pretty famous ship around here.  You heard what happened to his stepson, right?  He disappeared right here in London.  Some say he joined the Pirate Guild."
Iphigenia tried to stay nonchalant, but she could feel her face betraying her.  "Yes, I heard."  Halks noticed her retreat from the conversation, and gave her a worried look.  "Did I say something to offend, Ms. Askew?"
"No, no, not at all.  I just knew Captain Chickering's stepson...very well.  And I don't believe he would have gone with pirates.  He loved that ship and the fleet and hoped to captain his own vessel one day."  She paused..  "Do most people believe the same thing as you?"
"I think so, ma'am."  She realized that Mr. Halks was hesitant to say anymore regarding this situation, so she changed the subject.  "So what is the problem with Mr. Nightshade?"
He leaned closer and whispered, "Oh, he's just a...well, a right nit-picky bastard, I'd say!  Accused me and the crew of nicking some fancy pants brandy he brought aboard!  We're short staffed, so we don't have time to drink...and even if we did, I'm a whiskey man myself.  Although after he tried to get me fired, I'd drink that brandy out of spite."
She laughed.  "I haven't really had time to deal with Mr. Nightshade, but I've seen men like him on the Clementine.  They always end up disembarking as soon as they realize their attitude isn't welcome.  Why banks don't send more personable people to monitor these ships, I will never know."
"Well, I think it fair to warn you that you may be dining with him this evening.  I think Captain Grey has invited you, Mr. Nightshade, and a new security man to dinner.  Haven't met the security man yet, so I'm not sure what to tell you about him."

As Halks finished this sentence, they arrived at the room.  He rapped upon the door and opened it, ushering Iphigenia inside.  She turned to Halks, and thanked him for his time.  He smiled, doffed his cap, and whispered, "I'll be back to escort you to your quarters after dinner, ma'am."  He leaned closer, whispering, "Good luck," and left the room.

A tall gentlemen in a pith helmet sat at the table, and a girl - the same girl setting out biscuits earlier, Iphigenia realized - was setting out places.  They seemed to have a conversation going on.  He turned, and she looked in his good eye, smiled, and extended her hand.  "Ms. Iphigenia Askew.  And you are..."
« Last Edit: March 06, 2010, 04:57:09 pm by sevenlies » Logged
Major Dan Badger
Deck Hand
*
United Kingdom United Kingdom


"Is this about his pot plants?"


« Reply #44 on: March 06, 2010, 06:54:27 pm »

Post from the Near East - Major Dan Badger

What Ho there shipmates? Before I begin, I must remind all your good selves that, due to certain restrictions, I have been forced to write this entry on a small notation device (Patented by Doctor Stephen Jobs). Glad to see that we have so many able-bodied men and women on the ship. Whilst you're all having dinner with the (acting?) Captain Grey, and jumping aboard from moving Mail Ships, I've been having a few adventures of my own. As you may have guessed from my earlier telegraph, and Lt. Grey's reply, I am currently residing in Istanbul, Turkey. I must say that the delights of this wonderful city have far surpassed my expectations. I have met many carpet sellers, exotic spice bazaar stall holders, and rather alot of cats. Last night I came across a small establishment, the owner of which informed me, when I told him of my desire to send more than a telegram back to my shipmates, of a steam-powered bird of his that could carry letters across continents. I decided to hire this creature, and send all you back there my log from where east meets west.

Day I - I arrive on the outscirts of this sprawling city

After disembarking at 1300 hours from our pokey little chartered air-ship (I wish that I could have driven the thing, but my companion would have none of it), we joined a caravan heading for the heart of the settlement. Gasping in awe at the ledgendary floating houses, it was not long before the small dwellings had transformed into huge, cavernous, Byzantine hotels. We had left behind the scrubby wasteland, this was the real Istanbul. Fastening on my Pith Helmet, strapping my æther powered triple sprochet rifle to my chest, I prepared to leap of this fast moving caravan (I doubt it would have stopped, even if we'd asked), and land on the steps of the fast aproaching floating inn, where we were to stay.

The jump went off whithout a hitch, I must say, and both me and my companion where safely in our rooms by midnight, the gentle whirring of the house's self elevation mechanism sending us to sleep. 

But not before I had bolted the door, put a dagger under my pillow, and prepared myself for a hard night, I'll have you know. Your old Majors no softy, eh?
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Cornelius Nightshade
Guest
« Reply #45 on: March 06, 2010, 07:02:10 pm »

Still in a sour state of mind Nightshade left his stateroom, after changing, to head to the captains mess for dinner.
 Nightshade rounded the corner to one of the main passage ways when he stopped short in disgust.
“ Bloody hell! “ he murmured to himself, “ Its that dammed cat again! ” the one he had chased off the bridge earlier.
“ So this is the kind of sloppy ship that Gray runs huh! Will I must admit to my self at least I was wrong about HIM.”

The cat mean while strolled right up to him and with a soft purr began to circle Nightshade’s feet rubbing itself on his legs.

“ Cats for some reason seemed to always take a shine to me. and its shame”
 
Nightshade took a quick look around, It was just the dinner hour so the passageway was in fact completely empty of people. He took hold of his walking stick and still making sure no one was around pulled the long thin blade hidden in the top free. Then a quick downward thrust,,,

“ Because I do hate the filthy blighters! “

Nightshade took just a moment to admire his handy work.
“ Caught him just behind the skull, shame about the rug, ship’s property. Still, I do hate them so, well all animals really, “

Feeling much cheered, Nightshade cleaned his blade on the near by drape, a another quick check to make sure he was not seen in the act. Then, off to dinner.

He entered the dinning room with a smile at the other guests, determined to be charming to the last. That slacker Gray would not have the satisfaction of thinking he got under my skin. He did make a mental note to himself.

“ If Gray has brandy served after dinner I must make some pithy comment how sad it is that aboard ship we must settle for clearly lesser amenities then is our custom”
“ Ahh, good evening all, so nice to have a chance to meet everyone, I am Cornelius Nightshade an if I can help any of you enjoy this voyage Please, don’t hesitate to ask.,,,,,,,”


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MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #46 on: March 06, 2010, 08:49:52 pm »

Bailey Chuckled at Miss Curious' "wretched military man" comment. "Oh, now, now, I'm not all 'at bad, Miss Curious, And no offense was meant; shorely you can understand that there are things a copper 'as to do that seem idiotic and needlessly picky to some other people."  his voice took on a conspiratorial tone, and he continued, "and, sometimes, a person can learn more about somebody by bein' wrong than they can ever learn about  'em if every guess is right. F'r instance, you do care about your job, for whatever reason, and want to keep it at least for the nonce; I over-'eard ye pleading to get out of servin'm the table I was at. You still come out and are doing it regardless, which says that, (1) You want to keep yur job, whether for pay, or for security (bein' jobless an' 'omeless on an extur-terrestree-al base has ta be a wretched existence.
(2) You do want to either impress, or stay 'n the good graces've your boss (the cook).
(3)"there is something about your presence on board thE Badger that bothers you. Too soon to tell exactly what that might be, and I'm not saying you're the stowaway, Miss Curious; Thats one of the tedious things about bein' a copper, Miss: you have to stay suspicious of almost everyone both oin teh street, and even more so on a long trip loik this, because absolutely everybody has their limit -- even me or any other shipboard, company copper, and its our job, my job, to monitor everybody so that I can step in and stop something from 'appening, or if it's already 'dropped in the midden,' so to speak, then carry out damage control, even to the point o' callin' in reinforcements, and wadin' in and applyin the ol' nightstick.
(3) "You're a hell of a lot pluckier than ye look at first glance" (this was said with a bit more admiration than he felt was strictly necessary, but he couldn't help admiring quarry that fought back.

"Anyway, whether you prove to be former stowaway or legit crew, Miss Curious, I applaud your tenacity."

As Iphigenia entered, Bailey Stood up and took the proferred hand, bowed a fraction, and answering her query, said "M.W. Bailey, New Senior Officer of the Bridge Forward Ship's Watch detail, Miss Askew. Formerly Detective Sergeant, Retired, of the Royal Indian Air Security Service," he added, waving absently at his epaulets and the large Kothi-Mora Retirement Kukhuri knife strapped ceremonial-style to the waistbelt of the uniform-standard pistol harness.

"And yourself?" He listened and  made conversation as if his dinner companions were the only people in the world-- at least, that was the impression that he gave; he was wondering why the Security copper he had assigned to the dining room (in case he himself became engrossed in the happenings at table) was not in evidence; he had been there a few minutes aqo... now he remembered that the fellow (his name...Arguild?) had gone out the Starboard side door. A former Bengal Air Lander, the fellow should have known to use teh Head before his duty period, Bailey had been thinking. Then, "The Inevitable Mr. Nightshade," as the Commander had called him, entered, and crossed to the their table, and they had all stood.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, MW saw Officer Arguild reenter by the same door, looking absolutely discrete and circumscribe, a typical look of a copper with some very sensitive information to convey -- and then he smelled, very faintly, the unmistakable cocktail of aromas of a steam device: oil, hot metal, boiled water, and...Blood? Unmistakable, yes, but not common to steam engines, unless it were one of the new emerging types of prostheses, those (ghastly, he had thought, the first time he had seen an advertisement) stream-powered limbs... He then noticed that the aromas came, however faintly, from Mr. Nightshade! he filed the fact away for now, something to ruminate upon later. Arguild coughed, discretely, and then did teh same with a clearing of his throat. When Bailey glanced in Arguild's direction, he signaled with teh sign language peculiar to Servicemen in the various Indian Services that he had evidence to discuss of a serious, urgent, and above all, very, very sensitive nature to discuss with his Sergeant. He excused himself, explaining "Security Business, please pardon my hopefully-brief departure," and stood, crossed over to the young officer, an asked, in a low voice, "yes? what is the issue?"

"This, sir."  the fellow produced a carefully envelope-folded handkerchief, with what appeared at first glance to be some kind of brilliant red clay folded  up in it. Bailey took the item from the Arguild's hand, unfolded it,  and thus revealed blood, wiped from some kind of surface, probably fibrous, by the look of it. From the smell, up close, it had to be animal blood, possibly feline; he had been on a tiger hunt once, back in India, and had smelled a particularly shot-up tiger carcass/ This sample on teh glove smelled almost exactly the same as his memory told him the tiger carcass had been. then he noticed other smells on teh same jandkerchief: teh same oil, hot metal, and boiled water he had thought was coming from Mr. Grey!

"officer...Arguild, is it?

"Yes, sir."

"Did you find this just now?"

"yes, I did, sir."

"Where?"

"On the drapes outside the far door to this dining room, sir, not eight minutes ago. Sir--!" he paused as if yanked back by a bit in his mouth, and then continued, "Sir,"

"Sergeant!"

"Oh! yes, sorry about that, Sergeant. Um, I also  found the same -smelling blood on the captain's steam-resurrected cat, by that same door! I think he's dead, sarge, though somehow the valves that control that front leg're jammed somehow and the poor thing looks for all the world as if he's tryin' tae dig a hole in the wall. Lots of blood on the carpeting as well, sergeant."

"Take this down to the Commander immediately, along with the cat, and tell him what and where, and if you have any Idea who, tell him that as well. "

Aye, Sergeant." the fool actually saluted, then spun around about-face and hurried out the door. Bailey came back to the table, saying, "I beg your pardon. apparently there's been a dust-up down in steerage. Don't know what Arguild was doing there, or why he brought it to me, but its handled now, the Commander will know within ten minutes."
« Last Edit: March 06, 2010, 08:54:36 pm by MWBailey » Logged
Theosophus Grey
Snr. Officer
****
United States United States


Commanding the FAAS Widow's Son


« Reply #47 on: March 06, 2010, 10:20:33 pm »

As the ship's clock above the desk rang six bells, Grey set aside the bookkeeping records and his notes thereon, rubbed his eyes, and buttoned the collar of his tunic as he stood.  Checking his own pocketwatch, and adjusting it slightly to match ship's time exactly, he called the young yeoman from her post at the door.  "Perkins, I will be at mess for the next hour or so, please have any communications sent on." "Yes, sir!"

Stepping briskly down the gangway from the bridge to the corridor, Grey mused on his afternoon's research into the captain's papers and the related telegraph messages whose review Nightshade had interrupted earlier.  Damnable Company bookkeeper must have been a genius at cyphers, he thought; the codes he used to disguise the accounting entries were practically in Chinese; fortunately, I read Chinese.  He allowed himself a small smile at the thought of having something in his back pocket where the questionable Mr. Nightshade was concerned.

A steward was approaching him rapidly from the opposite direction, and he paused to allow the man to catch him up.  "Your guests have all arrived at mess, Captain - service at your convenience."  "Very well, give us ten or so to make introductions, then start with cocktails."  "Very good, sir."

Brushing his hand over his short greying hair and stepping up to the officer's salon door, Grey ordered his thoughts, and prepared to engage in that most dangerous form of warfare...  a formal dinner.  He surrepititiously checked the disposition of the .44 derringer always present in his waistband, an inheritance of his youthful days spent in the China trade with his uncle, and turned the polished brass handle with a snap.
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Mr Mephistopheles Grimm
Deck Hand
*
United States United States


I'm Absinthelicious


« Reply #48 on: March 07, 2010, 12:33:05 am »

Upon waking, Mephistopheles found himself under a large piles of notary paper and worksheets. Lifting himself from the barrage, he found an empty bottle of absinthe by his side and upon attempt to remember what lead to his encasement in parchment, he remembered only green tinted goggles. "Well then. This must be the ship. Oh my..." Lifting himself from the mass of papers, he took a long look around his stateroom, quite pleased. He pushed all his papers back into his suitcase and changed into clean clothing, peeking his head out of the door. "Hello? Heeeellooo? Hm." Seeing no one, he toppled out of the door, apparently his ability to withstand alcohol had abandoned him, but at least he was sober now. He walked along the halls, attempting to find anyone to converse with.


(OOC: Apologies for my late start. Cheers everyone)
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We will find a way, or make one. ~ Hannibal
MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #49 on: March 07, 2010, 04:11:14 am »

Ah! here is the current captain," Bailey said as the Third Officer, Lieutenant Grey, walked up to the table, the other passengers rising as well, Mr. Nightshade managing to convey as he did so an air of menace and disdain. The tension was so palpable that Bailey had to stop himself from pulling his truncheon and Khukuri, his subconscious practically screaming Melee, call for reinforcements!

But, outwardly, he showed no sign of distress or agitation, returningthe Third officer's greeting politely and impeccably, even graciously handing over his helmet and gloves when the steward howed up to collect everyones items of that sort...
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