Eclipse Phase (Private)

[wickedlittlecritta]

"I've never heard a more beautiful string of syllables," Devin told the Mekanix. He turned to cast an appraising eye over the neo-gorilla, like he might a forgery someone was trying to pass off as a genuine old Earth relic, and then shrugged. "I'll believe that when the casks are empty," he said.

 

[ValtheStarGal]

“So let’s empty ‘em, shall we??” The neo-gorilla challenges, having caught Devin’s smart remark; Silas Reefhide is sharply dreased in a silver-backed coat, adorned with ill-gotten jewelry that sings with magic, surrounded by an entourage of four sapes, all of whom regard Devin with appraising looks of their own. Silas smiles at Devin with a gorilla’s great big toothy grin, revealing yet more gold and jewelry.

“How’s the saying go? ‘Drink and be merry?’” Silas asks, the words as haughty in tone as Silas is in expression. “Suppose you’d be merry for all of two drinks, anyways! Carlyle, would you kindly pour a line of Cabernet for us?”

“You’re new to Blackguard’s cove, are you not?” Carlyle asks, barely allowing space for an answer before continuing: “Everyone landing here for the first time gets invited to drink with the Vixen’s master gunner.”

“How bout it, lad? Care to see if ya got the stomach to keep up with us?”

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

"Is that so?" Devin asked in response to Carlyle, and then, "It's not my stomach I'm worried about." Vidar and RJ's sort of people were the Meg, but Devin had definitely just found his.

 

[ValtheStarGal]

“There’s a lad!!” Silas exclaims, hooting with laughter. “Dibella, Molly, Lothos - you all in?”

“Aye!!” Lothos, a somewhat thin transhuman, exclaims a little too eagerly.

“Aye!” Molly, a transhuman whose morph has the distinct seams of a borg, answers.

“Let’s have ‘em,” Dibella, a foot taller than any of the others, nods.

“Right - Carlyle, best reserve some casks for us! Drink till you can’t no more - last one standing tallest afterward’s the winner!!”

The first glasses of wine find their way to the bar at ‘winner,’ everyone taking position to begin; “Carlyle - care to count us off?”

With an affected sigh, Carlyle counts: “three, two, one-“

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

The wine was really too good to be downed in a drinking contest, but sacrifices had to be made. Devins swallowed it down after holding it up to his competitors in a brief toast.

Despite all their big words, the other four were really not having a great day. Silas, amusingly, toppled first, and Lotho quit not long after. Molly gave it a better showing, and Devin thought Dibella might have him beat. Then she planted both hands on the table abruptly and toppled aside.

"So no round two, I take it?" Devin asked them, still sitting with his boots tucked into the stool's rung.

 

[ValtheStarGal]

As the tallest pirate at the bar, Devin is cheered by the small crowd that’s gathered around to watch the latest challenger for the Vixen’s ring of drinkers; some of them give Devin hearty pats on the back, while others get to helping Carlyle with the many glasses strewn around the bar.

“Round two??” Carlyle asks, still working his way through the wreckage of glasses left behind by the storm of drinking. “ It looks like twenty rounds will be plenty!”

“What are you…?” Molly manages to speak, squinting at Devin from the floor. Silas Reefhide, the mighty neo-gorilla, is in a heap on the floor next to her, his breath shallow. Lothos is wriggling beneath the mass of Dibella, fighting through the haze of wine as much as he is the weight of his fallen comrade. Even the best of them are on the edge of coherence, with their fellows cheering Devin and jeering the fallen braggarts in equal measure.

“Suppose we’ll have to call in Camille to get the alcohol in their system cleaned out,” Carlyle comments. “This is no shape to be in before a raid. Do you think you’ll be needing some help clearing the wine out of your own system there, mister Murphy?”

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

"I don't think that will be necessary," Devin said. "Thank you though."

hara[tacnet]: good news everyone, I'm the most powerful alcoholic in this bar.

 

[ValtheStarGal]

An eventful hour passes at Blackguard’s Cove, with craft being refitted, pirates sobering up or getting even more drunk, carnal delights being had upstairs, and a grand time had by all, before-

Yasmin al-Rundi {TacNet}: Comrades, I must call your attention to my feed - we are about to share our findings and plans.

Within the tavern’s annex, the captains and quartermasters are gathered around the map of the pacific - only now, it has zoomed in on a section of the Atlantic closer to the new world, with the island of Bermuda close to the north-east side of the map. A ghostly gold line illuminates the course of the treasure fleet, with seven small ships indicating the location of the fleet itself.

“Hearties all,” Captain Cheng I Sao calls out, addressing every pirate in Blackguard’s Cove, “the time has come! Mark these words of our new comrade, Sidazi al-Qadash, as it has been by her cunning and effort that we have learned and prepared for the greatest raid the seas have yet seen!”

A short cheer goes up from the pirates in the annex and in the tavern, and then Yasmin is invited to speak.

“Comrades of the fleets,” Yasmin says, firmly in the character of free mage corsair Sidazi al-Qadash, “we’ve both great opportunities and great dangers awaiting us. As you likely know, our prize is aboard the galleon Indefatigable, which travels with her sister ships the Heir Apparent and the Maiden Fair. We know from decrypted documents that they are loaded down with such treasures as to have no need for ballast, and any one of them could make all of us fabulously rich!”

With a wave of Yasmin’s hand, the map zooms in on the fleet, which expands to a projection big enough to appreciate the view of six ships, sailing in a line; a frigate and larger ship sail ahead of the three galleons, while behind them sail another huge warship and a frigate.

“The Imperium knows this, however, and we have learned from what intelligence we have acquired that they are prepared for a raid. Four - not three, as previously understood - ships sail with the sister galleons, two frigates, the Elizabeth Swan and the Dashing, and two ships-of-the-line, the Malleus and the Lightbringer; all four are well armed, and it would be wise to assume that the admiral knows how to direct them to best effect in battle. All three galleons are likewise well armed, armored, and warded against attack, meaning that there will be no easy fights here, not if we can’t first break the escort ships. We’ve assembled a mighty host here, but even this only brings the odds closer to even - and I, for one, want to live to enjoy the riches to be reaped from the treasure fleet!”

Yasmin pauses for a round of “ayes!” and cheers to pass before continuing, the map zooming back out to encompass a wide area of the atlantic, bordered by Bermuda on the northeast, the tip of Florida to the west, and Puerto Rico to the south: “Which might make this next bit seem downright mad, at first: the fleet is passing through a region of the sea well-feared for being the territory of the Abatecah, a mer-kingdom known to attack ships that pass through its waters. Our intel shows that the treasure fleet has chosen to risk attack by the merfolk in order to clear the islands and make for open ocean as quickly as possible - a decision we may be able to use against them.”

“The Abatecah, like us, are drawn to blood,” Cheng I Sao says, picking up where Yasmin leaves off. “Even one ship’s worth of crew sent down to them would provoke a response. They will make no distinction between pirates and prey, but if we can get them to attack the treasure fleet first, they will be in a sorry state - and exposed to attack.”

“The trick will be to get them not to attack us,” Khyar ad-Din says, his tone skeptical. “A considerable undertaking, considering the savage and alien ways of the Abatecah.”

“Yes, we had not reached a consensus on that point,” Yasmin acknowledges. “However we choose to deal with the Abatecah, we will approach the fleet under cover of nightshroud, turning day to night well ahead of our arrival. If we can provoke the Abatecah into attacking them first, or find other ways of sabotaging them, then it becomes a matter of destroying or otherwise neutralizing the escort ships before moving in on the galleons. Absent any other variables, It will take two of ours to a galleon to secure a victory. As it stands, we’ve seven ships - but there’s no telling how this will go down. No matter what, two of ours must engage the Indefatigable and secure her, no matter what else happens.”

“We’ve two other ways of tipping the odds in our favor,” Khyar ad-Din adds. “The storm itself can be brought to bear against the fleet, if we could summon the winds and rouse them to fury. I hear tell that a craft poached from the company has been repaired - such a craft would be perfect to give the winds something to chase.”

“As well, we’re very close to turning one of the captains of the treasure fleet to our side,” Cheng I Sao says, smiling a fanged grin. “Imagine the surprise if one of their own ships turns on them!!”

Yasmin lets the roar of the tavern die down before concluding: “So - we have our target: the Indefatigable. We have our plan: strike from afar under cover of nightshroud, and let the Abatecah feast on the victims, and then swoop in on the weakened fleet and seize the prize. All we need now’s the backbone to see it through; so, who dares to win???”

The tavern erupts with thunderous applause, subsiding only when the pirates begin to make for their ships to prepare for the raid to come.

Yasmin al-Rundi {TacNet}: [we have an opportunity to aid in the effort, and potentially ingratiate ourselves further with our hosts!! the raid is set and the plan discussed above in motion; we can choose to press on to the raid if we so choose. However, different optional objectives have opened up to us, as you may have heard. If we choose, we can try to sway the merfolk to our side, we can try to provoke the wild winds into creating a storm aimed at the fleet, or we can try to push the captain of the treasure fleet to turn on the others and go rogue; I understand that Cheng I Sao wanted to keep the details of that need-to-know, and would want to be sure we were ready to take it on prior to informing us, but my impression is that a sort of psychosurgery will be involved. we should discuss how we would like to proceed and report to the other captains.]

 

[TrashRabbit]

2sday[tacnet]: First of all.
2sday[tacnet]: we need to talk.
2sday[tacnet]: about
2sday[tacnet]:

Spoiler

maps.

2sday[tacnet]: And my crippling inability to look at them.
2sday[tacnet]: And the number of them I have seen today.
2sday[tacnet]: I would like this number in the future to be 0.
2sday[tacnet]: Thankyou.
2sday[tacnet]: 2nd of all thank you, Yasmin, for standing in at the meeting, you're very good at this. 3rd: I think we could probably make a fun plot point for this raid being some sort of willing or unwilling sacrifice to those hot mermaids. Some ones gonna be all over that.

2sday[ Captains chat]: Had a bit a of a thought, about the Abatecah, if anyone is willing and interested; Some sort of willing or unwilling sacrifice to them could or could not be enough to sway them to eat only our enemies. Either way it sounds juicy to me plot wise. Also Apologies for hanging around outside, I have a phobia of

Spoiler

maps

and did not properly consider how often pirates would be staring at them. One of my crew has some kind of delusion about chasing the winds down to call that storm, wich, I think sounds fun, and I think if at least some one can pull that off it may be enough to impress the abatecah on top of a meat-present. But-- this is my first time, maybe I'm off base.
Ti Knivfar {Captians chat} One of my crew has delusions of chasing down the winds, unless there are objections I'm obliged to indulge him! speak now, or hold yer peace!

 

[ValtheStarGal]

Yasmin al-Rundi {TacNet}: [Oh dear!! My apologies, comrade - I will take care to censor maps, going forward, thank you for informing me]

TheEighthFrame {CoveChat}: Oh no!! Hopefully this hasn't been too stressful! I'll coordinate with your muse to make sure maps are blotted out until you need them!!

Katrina Hallow {CoveChat - Captains}: [A sacrifice to the Abatecah will absolutely bring them around. In fact, the better the offering, the better the impression you'll make with them - which is critical, as a good impression is the difference between dealing with them and violent dismemberment.]
Burke Black {CoveChat - Captains}: [Been there - never again.]
Anne Bonnie {CoveChat - Captains}: [The plan was to sink a whole ship to get them to attack in the first place, right?]
Gunnhilde Ravenmoore {CoveChat - Captains}: [Correct, but this could assure their aid, rather than just tip the scales in our favor.]
Katrina Hallow {CoveChat - Captains}: [You'd definitely want to make a good impression for the meeting itself - and then offer them an entire ship's worth of sacrifices. It will mean sinking at least one of their ships, but I reckon we had plans to do that anyways c:<]
Cheng-I-Sao {CoveChat - Captains}: [@2sday that sounds like an excellent plan. Did you have someone or something in mind for the sacrifice?]

Khyar ad-Din Barbarus {CoveChat - Captains}: [You got a stormcaller among your ranks after all, eh?? Excellent - I knew that craft would be put to good use. Advise him to have a skilled mage for a co-pilot, he'll need to fly with all his focus to keep ahead of the Winds while they call them along. If he can get them fighting on a course toward the fleet, that'll give 'em a real hammering that will make our task considerably easier.]
Cheng-I-Sao {CoveChat - Captains}: [That could also serve to impress the Abatecah, which might tip negotiations in our favor - as well as get the captain within their fleet to go rogue!]
Khyar ad-Din Barbarus {CoveChat - Captains}: [if it doesn't go without saying, the winds are not trifled with lightly; I wish your pilot and mage good luck up there!]

 

[Graystone713]

"Dai Ruogang" {Tacnet}: [I know this isn't real, but I still don't like walking into an obvious trap, ESPECIALLY if no-one else sees it.]
"Dai Ruogang" {Tacnet}: [This is a professional outfit we're up against, are we assuming they don't have a plan?]
"Dai Ruogang" {Tacnet}: [They know they're gonna get attacked sooner rather than later. They might not expect US, but they expect someone, damn it!]
"Dai Ruogang" {Tacnet}: [But we haven't tipped our hand or engaged yet, so if they're doing this, it's not desperation, it's a calculated risk! Possibly, it was their plan all along!]
"Dai Ruogang" {Tacnet}: [They might already be allied with the damn murdermaids, who have fucking biotech. BIOTECH!]
"Dai Ruogang" {Tacnet}: [They could have a fucking bomb shaped like a pufferfish or some shit! And if they're not allied, they've got Murdermaid countermeasures or something.]
"Dai Ruogang" {Tacnet}: [They might not expect us to be crazy enough to fight in there, but they would be ready to. Y'know. WIN THAT FIGHT.]
"Dai Ruogang" {Tacnet}: [Look, this might not be the sort of trap that our enemy explicitly set, but the admins or game masters or whoever? They're BIG FUCKING ROB in this situation. You ALWAYS assume Big Rob set a trap.]
"Dai Ruogang" {Tacnet}: [Fuck me though, even though this feels trap-ish, it's also probably our only chance to tip the inevitable PVP fight for loot ownership. Plus, it means we can loot all the ships, even if they're sunk... I really think we should avoid engaging in murdermaid turf, but I'm not sure what fuckin' choice we have.]
"Dai Ruogang" {Tacnet}: [Still, if I can call the wind or whatever to make a storm by flying this aircraft, that's something they can't possibly be ready for. And I'm a pretty decent pilot. Yeah, tell 'em I'll try to do that thing.]

Mach was pretty active in the small bit of time between Yasmin's report and Vidar's chat with the captains. He was also finishing the last touches on his Kamikaze flyer... Heh. Kamikaze did translate to 'Divine Wind'... It felt nice to make that more literal. And not about fanatics willing to be bolted into a cockpit solely to blow themselves to pieces. Oh yes, Mach was READY for it. Then he realized he needed someone experienced in Magic to do half the work... He knew either Yasmin or Vidar COULD... But they might have other things more worth doing... Hmm... Well, as Mach secured the last fuse going towards, what else, an old-timey alarm clock wrapped in crocodile leather, he asked the other mechanic a very good question.
"Thorir. I may have the ability to cast magic but, ah... Are you any good at casting? Because the captain's council has a proposition, and I would need a Mage as my copilot. Would you be interested in calling the Wind upon our foes, and make the sea churn as though it was the Roaring Strait? This will be a dangerous mission, but it may prove vital to the raid's success."

 

[ValtheStarGal]

Thorir, having just helped Mach convert his plane into a bomb, squawks with surprise at the idea of flying in it; he nonetheless manages to respond with grace: "Alas, my comrade - my duties call me back to the Helheimr, as I'm her chief engineer under captain Ravenmoore, and I'll be needed to prepare her for the voyage ahead."

"Still... what a thing it would be to call the storm. Would that I could be there - and I commend yer bravery to go up against the four winds themselves, my friend. I'll make an offering to the gods, on yer behalf, Myeongnyang, that you fly true and bring hell down upon our foes!"

With that, Thorir spreads his wings wide and catches a gust that sends him soaring back for the Helheimr in time to start calling out orders to the deckhands that clamor aboard.

 

[TrashRabbit]

2sday{tacnet}:
2sday{Tacnet}: I think- If I'm counting all our chess pieces right. We're going to want, ME and Aby on the captain conversion gig, Yasmin and Marcus on cross wind duty. Wich leaves Devin to potentially sacrifice a hypothetical princess or something and negotiate for some fish dick- Though I think we might all be present for that one, cause it'll have to come last. Success on the first two will make a big impact on the third.

2sday[captains cove]: (I'm having a blast- and honestly its been inhouse Tacnet shinanigins, but that sounds great, Thank you!)

He bid penny to do just that and went back to plan making.

2sday [cove-captians] (¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Do we have any princesses?
As a plan B to this hypothetical parle with the abatecah, would it be unheard of for them to accept an offer to hold off participation in the battle entirely in exchange for our sacrifice plus what falls below the waves? Plan A being: eat our enemies please- I worry they wont be able to tell the difference in ships even if they agree, like that one unwinnable episode of UC:9??? They seem a bit Blue/orange to start- I'm a fan.
Thanks, my pilot is a true speed demon and I am concerned for the opposite reasons.]

 

[ValtheStarGal]

Stranger Tides
Blackguard's Cove - The Docks​

Burke Black {CoveChat - Captains}: [Oh they'll be able to tell the difference - whether they care or not's another question entirely]
Katrina Hallow {CoveChat - Captains}: [The Abatecah aren't entirely beyond reason, but yeah - their logic is definitely strange to our reckoning. They're obligate carnivores and arose from vicious predatory pack hunters, so they're equal parts cunning and aggressive.]
Gunnhilde Ravenmoore {CoveChat - Captains}: [They aren't entirely beyond reasoning, but they also have little patience for deals; they're very immediate - you either have something to offer them there or be the kind of hard target 'makes em think twice about attacking you.]
Anne Bonnie {CoveChat - Captains}: [They don't put much stock in words, particularly those of the land-dwellers.]
Khyar ad-Din Barbarus {CoveChat - Captains}: [If your pilot goes and calls the storm before you summon them for a meeting, then you would definitely make an impression on them. They respect power, and anyone who can call a storm will have at least earned their consideration.]
Cheng-I-Sao {CoveChat - Captains}: [If it's a sacrifice you're looking for, perhaps our friend aboard the Lightbringer may be able to provide us with some assistance - once he's been brought around?]

Outside the tavern, Yasmin watches as time within the VR-simulation advances from the dark of night to the morning, the stars vanishing before the second-long sunrise that illuminates the ships of the fleet for everyone to get about their work. The Salty Swallow sees deckhands rolling barrels up the gangplank and disappear into the armored shell of the turtle ship, sails still rolled up and the plated jaws at its bow evoking the Dunkleosteus of old. Several AI deckhands ask her for instructions, and she refers to her guides for only a moment before issuing them, already comfortable in this fictional world.

Yasmin al-Rundi {TacNet}: [according to my research, free mage corsairs may have an easier time commanding the elemental magic needed to call the winds, whereas vampirates have their enchantments to use on the minds of mortals that may make enthralling the captain of the Lightbringer easier. I concur with the idea that the abatecah should be spoken with last; it would seem that putting the other pieces into place may be prudent and improve our chances with the merfolk]

 

[TrashRabbit]

2sday {Tacnet}: The success of the first two are definitely linchpin to the third. We'll see how far we get into it before Mr. Runninginthen90's gets here.
2sday{tacnet}: Devin, how are you so drunk and so small and still walking?

Vid was watching Devin approach the docks and their extremely badass ship. He had never heard or seen the kind of ship the salty swallow was, and had enjoyed skimming the available info on them. He checked in other Mach's progress, but otherwise tried to get into the game.He found answering the questions and requests of the npcs much more useful for getting into the feel of the game than the fight with The Meg. Mostly because he had a hard time telling real people from even moderately advanced constructs; a failing he did his best to keep to himself. He was almost a hundred and technology was damn good. He found himself entranced with almost every knot he saw, And soon had three mesh searches open for mathematical knot theory trying to find words to describe the invisible math behind them. He indulged himself and inspected a lot of the rigging; he was still limping and his head was still throbing, but he was still high, so the world seemed alright.

"Oh no," He said to Yasmin, "I think I love knots."

2sday{covechat-Captains}: [Think I see a solid plan coming together here. Will keep you posted on the winds! Would it be possible to get the Intel on the lightbringer captain? I got one on the crew who is over qualified for that sort of thing, if its gonna function even a little like reality. If one or both of those objectives are successful I think its worth trying to contact the merfolk, if not well- YOLO. We tried.]

2sday {Pm To Abby}: Aby, when you're done winning at Sexy Pirates & Vampires, do you want to help your dad ruin the minds of mortals?

2sday{Cove chat}: [Just discovered mathematical knot theory. DM me to scream to about knots?]

 

[Sophos]

Manicpixiecyberhacker {PM to 2sday}: Sorry was a little, uh, tied up. Abso-fucking-lutely. Imma become a Manic Pixie Dream Hacker. We wanna feed em to the fishfolk it sounds like?

 

[TrashRabbit]

2sday{Pm to Manicpixiecyberhackers}: 100% mermaid vore. yes. I feel like we could get him to start a fire in the munitions hold that would be the fastest thing.

 

[ValtheStarGal]

Cheng-I-Sao {CoveChat - Captains}: [I'll get that right to you!]

Cheng-I-Sao {PM to Ti Knifvar}: [Our target aboard the Lightbringer is its captain, Johnathan Milton. He's an imperial captain, military sort of man, strong sense of duty and loyalty to the nation etc. His ship was assigned to patrol the coastline, and he had some kind of encounter off the coast of Yucatan that left him shaken and inspired a... curiosity in the dark arts.
Cheng-I-Sao {PM to Ti Knifvar}: [We were able to interfere with a... fortification ritual, of sorts, in order to plant a dream barb that you can use to slip directly into his dreaming mind. You'll have to do it at night - he's warded against attack while he's conscious - but if you can steal into his mind, he might take you for someone who can help him with his... problems. Since his encounter on the Yucatan he's been cautious and even fearful, which I'm sure can be used against him. ]
Cheng-I-Sao {PM to Ti Knifvar}: [You've got two ways of handling this: guile or force - you can either try to sway him into opening his mind for you, or you can force your way in to make the changes you need to make. If you want to choose guile, my advice would be to proceed carefully, play on his fear, and feed him information about our fleet carefully; he knows what his side can do, and he might not be so open to going rogue without knowing what the plan is, but then if he doesn't go rogue then he could spoil what you give him. He's not a fool, but fear has already compromised his judgement. If you choose force, I advise swift, crushing brutality - find the points in his psyche where you can do the most damage and focus your efforts there, then once you've paralyzed him do what you need to do.]

"You'll find no shortage of knots here, my captain!" Yasmin proclaims, laughing in bemusement as she briefly turns to watch Vidar toy with a knot on the dock before returning her attention to the Salty Swallow as it is prepared for the voyage to come: the Flyer that Rougang had just finished preparing is hoisted into position on the stern launcher - really an inclined ramp built perpendicular to the ship's bow/stern axis to prevent exhaust from igniting the timber or overheating the plates - by means of the cove's sole cargo crane, with barrels of supplies and powder streaming up the gangplank and into the belly of the beast. They will have everything they need for the two weeks' journey to intercept the fleet - which, thankfully, they need only experience as much as they need to fulfill these bonus objectives.

Katrina Hallow {CoveChat - Captains}: [You've a daring crew, Captain Ti! Here's to your success, that we might all reap victory!]

Spoiler: Surveillance Data on Marcus

By now, a small crowd has gathered to watch Marcus Speidwagon and his team of mercenaries get heckled by the scum bargers, who seem to delight in griefing the team. Marcus's helmet is down, and the expression on his face is one of white-hot anger at the insolence of the scum bargers - who single him out in particular, neither they nor the mercenaries seeking conflict. Finally, things come to a head when Marcus draws his particle beam bolter and aims it for the lead scum bargers - which causes a small commotion as a number of other scum rush to draw or get between the parties and break things up before they get ugly. The mercenaries gather around their charge, weapons up but not firing, and peacemakers rush in to move everyone along and defuse the tension - offering only a stern warning to Marcus and his crew. Within minutes, the corridor is clear, Mach and his team moving along in short order.

Gun_jum {CoveChat}: [You're in real good company, friend]
Ramphoryncus {CoveChat}: [Not many places you'll find this many knot enthusiasts ]
estalia {CoveChat}: [Let alone a group this fun!]

 

[TrashRabbit]

Ti Knivfar{ Private chat}: Excellent, We'll see what we can do!

"Myeongnyang!" Vidar yelled, "Where you at, you big lunk, I bet you wanna go fast right?!" he smiled and then looked over at Yasmin
"So- how do you feel about helping Myeongnyang summon the four winds?" he asked Yasmin. He was not great at acting. Nor at lying in general. And he smirked around Mach's character name each time. They may have talked about it on tacnet but it was a larp after all.

Ti knivfar{ covechat}: [Oh hell yes. Got any entropic idlers you'd recommend for utility knots or math knots? A viking can only play candy crush for so many decades.]
Ti KNivfar{Cove chat}: [And is there a Locus miror for this game yet?]

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

hara[tacnet]: that's my secret captain, i'm always drunk

 

[ValtheStarGal]

TheEighthFrame {CoveChat}: [I think we're the only group in the whole system that plays this particular setup? Maybe you could be the one to start a Locus mirror!]
estalia: {CoveChat}: Funny thing - I've been working on some programs myself! (link)

Yasmin starts a bit to have the question posed to her; "I...could be amenable, but as the ship's quartermaster I assumed my duties would revolve around ensuring our voyage to intercept the treasure fleet would be a smooth one! Devin Murphy is also of the free mage corsairs - I suspect he would be more amenable to calling winds than stocking provisions!"

"Y'know what the nice thing is about this being a sim game?" Khyar ad-Din Barbarus, eight feet of neo-neanderthal in pirate regalia striding like an emperor toward them, asks.
"...what is that?" Yasmin asks.
"That you don't have to wait on the orders to be executed," Khyar ad-Din answers, the clear blue sky turning the color of old paper as lines and circles begin to draw themselves; the sun goes from too bright to look directly at into a drawing of itself, its rays still shimmering in an animated style, and lines of latitude and longitude now run from horizon to horizon, with fanciful images of leviathans and dragons flowing and snarling between them. Around them, gangway planks are withdrawn, sails unfurled, and shanties struck up - with only the Heart of the Tempest and Salty Swallow left in port.
"I look forward to seeing what your crew can do!" Khyar ad-Din exclaims, hands outstretched as a pair of immense, feathered wings emerges from nowhere to propel him upward and onward to his ship; from the main-mast, Khyar ad-Din executes a graceful pivot before stopping himself to look back at the Salty Swallow and the gathered crew, one last wave as the Tempest gets underway.

"Em, right, let's be along, shall we?" Yasmin says, turning around and proceeding up the gangplank into the Swallow as though she has a secret to keep. With all preparations complete, places are taken, orders are issued, sails are unfurled, the Swallow's arcanopropulsion engine is fired, knots are released, and the ship lurches in the way that a massive object roused into motion from rest invariably does. The animated sun begins to follow its course across the sky rapidly, setting and giving way to a similarly stylized moon before taking its place once more, the firmament beyond moving slower to indicate location. Blackguard's Cove recedes in the rear view, the ship along its course and proceeding ahead of the other ships of the fleet-

-as the animations revert back to a clear sky and fair winds on the open seas, the Swallow leading the way.

 

[ValtheStarGal]

Wyrmwood: Stranger Tides
The Eldritch Seas​

“Right, this seems a good time to launch,” Yasmin says; the UI returns readings of steady winds, clear skies, and following seas. The flyer itself awaits on its launcher, protective spells lifted so as not to inhibit the craft’s launch as the last checks are prepared, and the Swallow itself has been slowed to an easy speed to allow for a successful launch. “Right then - Devin, Myeongyang, are you clear on what you must do?”
“Step one: make winds. Step two: fuck fish. Step three: profit,” Devin said.
“Yeah. Fly fast, let him cast, smoke grass. And fly back for y’all getting up in some fish sticks… ugh.”
“More or less,” Yasmin says, unable to stifle a laugh. “Remember that you will have to perform a calling for each wind as Mach flies in the appropriate direction, then fly where you need them to go - in the direction of the treasure fleet. I believe the flyer is ready for you, if you are ready for it…”
A set of ladders and a gangway have been laid out to the waiting flyer, the last AI deckhands clearing the way and warning shouts going out to all around to get away from the launcher. The flyer itself - packed dense with explosives - still has a hum of simulated magic to it, a hum that perks up as its pilots approach.
“Well, even if we fuck up, I’ve always wanted to die in a video game,” Devin said cheerfully.
“I’ve done it. It’s not fun. The moment Gran Turismo decided to let you feel every part of the car crash you’re in with no option to skip it was the day I quit that series.” Mach-... Dai… Myeongyang? Said, much less cheerfully, as he began hooking his suit into the plane. Literally hooking, as he had the little hook mount points on his suit.
Devin shrugged. “I’ve died twice in real life, a video game would be an interesting change of pace.” He hooked himself up as well, following Mach’s lead.
“You’re using the people straps, right?”
“Yes, because I’m wine in a people suit.”

The moment Mach heard ‘yes’, he started the launch sequence. The engine ignited, the clamps released, the aircraft rocketed down the guide rails, and he hit open air like it was the void, climbing right up to operating altitude.
“Finally, some movement!... Feels good.”
“Thanks, I hate this SO MUCH,” Devin said. His stomach reminded him that it was mostly full of wine, and he thought, for one awful moment, that it was about to empty itself to fix that problem, but then it settled.
After a short while to clear the fleet, Devin pulled up the first wind...or tried to. He wasn’t sure if it was the unfamiliarity with the system, or if the sudden acceleration was still fucking with him, or just the wine. Either way, it went. Poorly.
“Shit shit shit,” Devin muttered, and his attempt to fix it made a crosswind instead.
“Everything alright back there? You don’t sound so good!” Said mach, unused to crosswinds in the air. Sometimes light or hover-based ground vehicles felt that, but up here it was all new.
“Turns out magic is hard!” Devin shouted, and tried again. This time it worked, and almost too well, the new wind tearing up behind them.
“Just hold your lunch, I gotta pull an Immelmann!” Mach said, flying straight. Straight north, far to the east of the enemy fleet. Then further north. Further. When he felt he had the space to run a straight line back to perpendicular with the fleet, he pulled back on the controls, steadily inverted the plane in what might seem like the start of a full loop, then stopped at the top, and rolled from his current upside-down position to right-side-up, headed south.
“Okay, cast the spell!” Mach shouted, ready for Devin to call the southerly wind.

“You got it!” Devin shouted back. He had the feel of it now, and the south wind came easy at his call. Mach dodged the incoming North wind easy, and just as the South began its own chase, there was a clap of thunder-For a second, Mach thought he got the storm started early. But a look in the rearview proved him wrong. So he flew back until he was on the same rough latitude as the enemy fleet, and banked to turn east, away from them.
“Call it when you’re ready, we got time!” he shouted, flying out and waiting for the spell…
“Coming!” Devin called. He could tell almost at once that something had gone wrong. He wasn’t sure on the specifics until the sail caught fire, perilously close to the explosives.
“UH. Give me a second,” Devin called to Mach, and tried another spell. This one did work, and a large brown cylinder with entirely too many gears and nozzels on it materialized in thin air. But under all the steampunk aesthetics, it was a fire extinguisher, and Devin put the fire out without any problems. “Some, uh. Technical difficulties.”
“... TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES?... I have a rearview, Y’know! GlitterChrist, I thought I’d have to Kamikaze this shit early!”
“I handled it,” Devin said. “Calm down.” He raised his hands and tried again, and this time, got wind instead of fire. Mach, however, felt something lock up in the controls. Oh shit, the fire messed up the rudder a little. He tried to shift it, but it took the winds slamming him to get it loose, and… Well. That didn’t end well. One more wind. Shit.
“Another Immelman, be ready!” Mach said, hoping he still had the speed for that maneuver. He did, but only just. They didn’t have much time before they were caught up to.

“Last wind, cast it!” He shouted, hoping there wouldn’t be another fire…
The stupid steampunk fire extinguisher had decided, all on its own, to turn into the fanciest ivory horn. Feeling very like Susan from Narnia, Devin used it to call up the last wind, and whether the horn helped or not, nothing else caught fire.
But they did get hit again. And the canvas on the wing tore. Motherfucker. Just before he officially bailed, the UI stopped him to mention that he had magic robot repair powers. Fucking what? He tried to exert it, per the instructions, and… He had a weird sort of out-of-body-experience. He was outside his body and the plane. Everything was slowed way the hell down. He made the wing stitch itself back together, somehow. He fine-tuned the gearing on the engine. He gave it a little boost of Magic. And he was back to himself. “Fucking WHAT?” He said, more in control of the plane than ever. But he snapped back to, and spoke up.
“That’s all the winds, we’re ready to bring the storm! Hand on your sword, be ready to bail! I want to make it back, but I think our luck’s running out!”

The skies begin to darken, thunder claps shattering the air as the four winds slam into each other in pursuit of the flyer. Turning on one another, the four winds begin to clash, following the flyer on a collision course for the treasure fleet - and bringing the storm with them. Lighting arcs out in flashes, making the skies a dangerous place to be. Bearing down on the small flyer is a storm of immense power, unstoppable in its fury and bearing down hard on the treasure fleet.
Mach wrestled with the wind a little, but now he WAS the machine. And as much as he felt the desire to blow it up… Well, instead he flew right into the middle of the enemy fleet, banked hard towards their own, and went as fast as he could, leaving the storm to hit the ships and lose interest. He flew out a bit of a ways after to make sure they gave up, then just… Relaxed as he brought them back in. He had to be honest, that was nice. If things hadn’t gotten so screwy in there, it could’ve even been pleasant.
“That was great,” Devin said. “Let’s never do it again.”

And then, gracelessly, he leaned over and hurled.

 

[ValtheStarGal]

Wyrmwood: Stranger Tides
The Salty Swallow - Below Deck​

Day has gone to night, as the simulation advances to the witching hour - the time for workings to pierce the minds of the unsuspecting. Within the hold of the Salty Swallow, a ritual circle has been prepared; candles have been lit, incense ignited, and elaborate designs traced on the floor in order to bridge the waking world and that of dreams. A small assembly of deckhands is present at the circle, ready to lend their voices to the incantations that will propel Abigail and Vidar into the mind of the slumbering Jonathan Milton. The sound of the sea around and beneath the hold, along with the creaking and groaning of the hull, are the only sounds to be heard in this space.
“Information about the ritual should be coming up on your entoptics now,” Yasmin says, keeping her voice down as though in a religious space. “We should perform it soon, before the witching hour passes.”
Vidar nodded and looked at Abby, “Are you ready baby bird?” she had fared the well through the hacking scare and the rest of the AR game despite her heavy buzz. If she wanted her blood stream scrubbed he supposed she would have asked. He read the instructions for the game mechanics and the interface carefully and rolled up his sleeves.
“Hell yeah! Let’s do this!” Abby says, giving a thumbs up and nodding eagerly. For like two seconds before having to stop and hold something until the sudden dizziness passes.
“Think sea-leg-thoughts,” He said encouragingly.
“Very well, take your positions within the circle and we can begin,” Yasmin says, AR graphics guiding the players to their seats as the deckhands begin to chant. Seated in a cross-legged position, deckhands to either side of Abby and Vidar take their hands, and the chants blend into a single overtone drone, one that causes the candle-light to shift from warm to a purple hue that seems to make everything faint and blurred around the edges. The whole scene on the ship goes out of focus, and the drone itself fades, with new sounds beginning to cut through it - the sounds of shrieking gulls, ships at anchor, hoofbeats on cobblestones, dozens of conversations-

-Abby and Vidar stand off to the side of a busy thoroughfare of Port Goldenstar, just out of the way of foot and cart traffic. It is bright as day, and the two vampirates have been placed within a shadowed area of this dreamscape - so clearly realized up close but seeming to blur the further out one looks. Beyond the foot traffic, a ship-of-the-line dominates the scene, Lightbringer painted onto its hull and an ornate lantern-bearer carved for a figurehead on its bow. The mood along the port is ebullient in the way that cities are as great festivals are about to get underway.
It was more mundane than Vidar expected but he was very okay with that considering they day he was having.
“Lets find this captain fellow, then,” he offered her his hand, considering the dizy the spell she’d just had and the blur effect of the dream space.
Abby takes his hand, grateful for the assistance, and leads the way over towards the ship. “I bet he's on that thing. Let's check it out first.”
“Ho there!” cries a guard from the ship. “This is an imperial vessel - civilians are disallowed from boarding.”
The guard makes no other move, instead watching Vidar and Abby now that he has something to focus on.

Vidar doesn’t make any argument to that and turns them around, “I’ve got an idea. But we’re gonna have to find out what this asshole looks like.”
Fortunately, in a way that’s almost funny if it wasn’t so vain the local market is plastered with posters of the Captain milford and the proclamation that he is to be awarded lordship by the emperor.
“What do you think if we give him the old mirror-double treatment. He seems a bit full of himself.”
“Helly yeah, let’s do it!” Abby exclaims, clearly excited at the prospect of messing with this guy, “Who should be the double, though?”
“I’ll do it,” He said. He winked and did a little ingame magic mechanics and they were on their way.
“H- oh my, captain milton??” The guard calls as the two proceed up the gangplank. “I don’t- sir! You will find the ship in good order, as suits a man of your station! Captain on deck!”

The other guards present on the ship snap to attention, turning and saluting the captain before returning to their patrols along the Lightbringer’s length. Looking around the long deck of the warship however…begins to reveal things. Splinters on the deck. Bloodstains. Shattered gunports, and cannons that are simply missing. Tattered sails, some missing altogether; for that matter, felled masts that looked fine from the dock.
A thud on the deck calls attention to one of the guards a few meters away simply falling over dead; looking around, several more have simply vanished from sight - only the guard who greeted you remains.
Abby leans over real close and whispers to ‘Captain Milton’, “Hey uh. Please please please tell me you’re seeing all this too?”
“Yeah- fucking spooky bullshit everywhere,” He he assures her.
The walk to the captain’s cabin isn’t long, AR graphics serving as guides for pirates who would know the layout of a ship to walk there confidently. The door gives way without protest - although the handle on it is broken, and the door opens to a room that looks to have been hit by a hurricane. Furniture has been overturned, books thrown from shelves, windows smashed, and other signs of chaos leave any room for standing, let alone conducting the business of captaining a ship of this size.
Vidar b-lines for the desk, pushing paper and objects around till he finds something that looks important. He cracks open the book- and even an AR paper book is incredibly novel- and watches as the ink scampers and wiggles into the spine of the book to remain hidden.
“Uh Abby- do you think you can hack this book?” He asks, holding it open to her.
After a moment of concentration, Abby shakes her heard. “Try your sword maybe?”
Vidar frowned loudly at her and put the book back down on the table, pointed at forcefully and said, “Let me read you.” And then tried opening it again. He pulls his fingers back as the book continues to exude heat, his attempt at the games magic failing. He cracked his knuckles and says; “We’re going to hack this book or else. What’s a good magic word? I need a magic word.”
“Please?” she supplies, helpfully.
Vidar made a face, and told the book, “Please?!” and for a moment it vibrated and heated up and then submitted in his hands. He was almost mad he had succeed, since “please” was not really the aesthetic he wanted for captain Knifvar.
As the book cools back down, the ink that had fled to the spine slithers back into its place on the pages, forming the words it had tried to hide. The entry Vidar has opened to reads:

Months of hard travel, and one of the worst storms I’ve ever seen in my time, but we have arrived at last. No more must I endure the hellish heat and air like jam of the new world; by the sunset tomorrow, I shall be proclaimed a lord of the Glorious Imperium, to profit from our holdings in the new worlds while enjoying the civilization of the old. The years have been arduous, and the things I have seen enough to fill my nightmares, but at last I can put them all behind me.
The damage incurred to the ship upon its final voyage under my command is unfortunate. It reflects poorly on myself as a commander, to be unable to protect those who have entrusted their lives to me - and casts a shadow on my lordship before it has even begun. How can I protect the empire I serve if I cannot protect my men from a storm - no matter how hard? It is an axiom that you lose your brothers in war and at sea, but that does little to salve the pain of their loss.
Never the less, my emperor will bestow upon me my lordship tomorrow at the Citadel of Dawn itself. I have been given quarters within the citadel itself, adjacent to those of his Majesty, the honoree for the event. After everything - the near-misses, the encounters, the strange things I have seen the...occasions I have nearly faltered from my path, the day I have striven so long for has finally come. I shall be given a day to rest from the voyage, and then I shall take up my lordship and continue in glorious service to my empire.

An ear-searing shriek issues from outside the captain’s cabin, followed by the frightened scream of a living man and the sound of ringing steel.
“YOU DARE?” the guardsman shouts to a man the spitting image of Captain Milton, who dodges back to evade a slashing claw from an arm much longer than is natural. The guardsman’s flesh is a palign color, his arms now the length of his body and tipped with obsidian talons, his lower jaw sloughed off and his eyes burning white. He shriek-gurgles at Milton, who is only just able to evade the slashing talons that seek him out.
“Y-you there! Help-help me!” he calls from the far end of the ship, unable to tell or not caring that his double was just in his cabin. Just past him, the city that once gleaned in regal colors is now dark - the sky above clouded over and the city itself succumbing to dark tendrils of ink and smoke that pour from windows and ensnare screaming townsfolk.
Vidar pulls out his sword and takes a running slash at the ghoul, wich it evades neatly.
The ghoul wheels on vidar in time to take several well-placed shots from Abby’s gun, only to then be slashed by Milton’s sword as it wails in outraged agony. Barreling into a charge, the ghoul mistimes its slash at Vidar, talons sailing through empty air as it just stops itself from collapsing again.
Vidar darts in and gives the AR Ghoul the bad end of a showy NKF routine, ending with his blade stabbed up under its chin.
With one last gurgled wail, the ghoul slumps to the floor before falling to ash that blows away on the wind.

Captain Milton looks back to the once proud port with desperation on his face, looking back to his saviors with wild eyes. “We- we don’t have much time - I don’t know who you are or why you look like me, but- how can we stop this?”
“I’m you but stronger,” Vidar says and brings the sword down across his throat.
It takes Milton a second to realize his own throat has been slashed, before falling to his knees and looking up at his mirror double; he barely has time to try slashing at Vidar before the blood alights from his veins and onto Vidar’s sword, the fell binding taking hold. Only now, as he succumbs to the turning, does captain Milton realize what has happened to him-
-too late to save himself.

 

[ValtheStarGal]

As Abby and Vidar return to the consensus reality that is Stranger Tides, a message arrives for everyone on the Eye - from Starglass.

Spoiler: Sentinel Eyes Only

[Sentinels, we have received an update on your situation; your quick thinking in recruiting a whole troop of scum bargers to assist with the Marcus Speidwagon case is commendable. Upon investigation and post-hoc analysis of the Annora Arabella op and the intel agent Heliotrope was able to acquire, we have a situational update for you.

As for your present situation, we need you to make best efforts to acquire Marcus Speidwagon's cortical stack. It has become increasingly clear that he is an operational liability we cannot abide, and so your task will be to prevent his ego from departing the ship. We will prepare a dead drop to collect the stack if you can acquire it, but termination is authorized should collection prove impossible - adapt to the situation and use your best judgement. To buy your scheme some more time, another sentinel has arrived in theatre to assist you; keep an eye out for operative Jukebox Maiden, as they will be running interference against Marcus. Once this situation is resolved, they will join your team in preparation for the next phase of this mission.

We need you to focus on your current objective right now, but count on a shuttle flight to Mars in the near future.]

"Ah, your mission was a success!" Yasmin proclaims, still in character. "Fortune smiles upon us! Let us hope that we have her favor for what must be done next; we should discuss our plan to sway these Abatecah before we proceed - I have a feeling we will have only one chance to buy their alliance for the coming raid."

 

[Graystone713]

“How much ‘plan’ do we actually need? We only call the Abatecah up for parley, offer them a shipful of drowning sailors, and tell them they’ll have many more if they help us. Simple.”
Said ‘Myeongyang’, confidently... until he started thinking about it.
“Except... How do we tell them we wish to parley? Cover our anchor in bloodied flesh and nail a letter to it? I think not. And as this is a battle, could they not argue that they’ll have plenty to eat whether they help us or not? Even with our desire to acquire ships, some are bound to sink... Do they even speak a language we’d understand?... Actually I suppose they do, given that other captains imply having communicated with them. But... If we cannot offer a sacrifice they wouldn’t get otherwise, perhaps we should focus on their neutrality, and use our calling the storm as proof of our Might. Perhaps then they’ll be content with the corpses thrown overboard.”

He said, less than confident in their ability to convince the murdermaids that fighting on the side of piracy would get them something more than neutrality. However, he contemplated something far more important in the back of his mind.

Sleipnir {Sentinels}: [Requesting clarifications on all points:

1: Is Spiedwagon-Omega in possession of mission-critical intel or intelligence related to other operations? Clarify priority status on retrieval as opposed to termination.
2: Is there an Identifier for Jukebox Maiden? Specific morph, repname broadcast?
3: Are we expected to operate in the quarantine zone? Can we expect requisitions and operational support in that case? Are we allowed to defer the assignment to another team?

Awaiting response.]

That message went to the line Starglass opened to them all. Another message went out alongside it, for Starglass’s eyes only.

Sleipnir{PM to Starglass}: [Okay formal tone out the window. I know you’re these guys’ regular dispatch, not mine, so maybe you’re used to your subordinates taking a fucking without any complaints. But I’m pretty sure you don’t just want the intel offa other me, and I’m DAMN sure that if you’re gonna fuck me into the quarantine zone, you’re buying me the nicest dinner you can afford first. Endless soup, salad and breadsticks won’t cut it if you’re sending me to rob’s house.]
Sleipnir{PM to Starglass}: [And don’t get cute. I’m pretty sure anyone can recognize that the ‘dinner’ metaphor is about requisitioning equipment. In summary, I need answers and guns. Maybe explosives and tanks, if you’re really feeling spendy.]