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You did good, McGregor. Made us proud.
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No offense intended. But there's a sweet spot on the sliding scale of realism, and most of the interest checks I usually see skew too far to the realism end for me.
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Can't describe how quickly I go from excited to sad when a mecha premise turns out to be realism wankery.
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Most Recent Posts
I might be interested. What would the setting probably be?
I can send William down towards engineering, and cover what he would have said on deck via timey wimey wibbly wobbly-ness when Trinais gets back.
But that's the extent of what I can do. XD
But that's the extent of what I can do. XD
Moving at a measured, steady pace, William Mycroft watched carefully as the HMS Pegasus loomed closer, eyes taking in every detail that he could possibly discern. As he approached the gangplank his stride slowed, allowing him a longer look at his new posting. The ship was, even from a glance, unlike any other that he'd ever seen, let alone served on. Armor plated, the brig was supposed to be both faster and tougher than other designs, a real lightning bruiser if he'd ever laid eyes on one. Her biggest problem, however, was coal; All that armor didn't leave a lot of room for coal storage, which is what most of these smaller ships used to keep the boilers going. Magicians, traditional thinking stated, were for Man 'o Wars and such, not for smaller vessels. Coal was plenty sufficient for them, no need to devote even one magician, let alone a team.
Which is why it was most unusual that he found himself posted here. The logic was sound, of course; Without much coal storage, the admiralty needed another fuel source on board if it wasn't enough. The logical choice was a magician, but instead of sending the usual minimum of a three-man crew, they sent him. He'd had a real shock at that one, nearly choked on his coffee. The more he heard about this posting, the more he had a sinking feeling about it. Mycroft had been pretty good about keeping his head down, but Trafalgar... Captain Martin hadn't bought his explanation of his whereabouts, and they both knew it. So much for not standing out.
No good pondering it.
Hands in the pockets of his coat, he noted that he'd reached the gangplank a few moments before, and had paused at the end of it. Shaking his head, as if his musings were cobwebs that he might dislodge, he began the ascent, setting foot on the deck of the ship a short time later, boots impacting against the deck quietly. The usual smog hovered about, but after a few year it was just expected. Twenty eight guns, by his count, and what looked like gatling guns in a few spots. Yes, the Pegasus was a new breed indeed.
His eyes didn't have to roam long to note the somewhat eclectic gathering of individuals around a central figure, clearly Captain Lorraine, judging by his garb, present up on the forecastle. Better report his presence, hand over his papers, et cetera, et cetera. Faster he did that, faster he could get belowdecks and see what, and who, he'd be working with for the duration of his stay. Truthfully, the "who" was more important. He could adapt to different equipment. But these smaller ships... Well, magicians weren't usually aboard, and being a living power source on board a ship where such people were expected yielded enough prejudiced people, he really hoped a lack of familiarity wouldn't indicate an abundance of prejudice.
But, dwelling on it wouldn't change things one way or the other. Time to get focused.
He crossed the deck to the forecastle, moving at a brisk but measured pace, coming to a stop a respectful distance away, hands still in his pockets. The captain was already having a conversation; Butting in wouldn't be polite, and judging by the apparent ranks of those involved, might in fact be downright foolish. He would speak when he was spoken to.
Which is why it was most unusual that he found himself posted here. The logic was sound, of course; Without much coal storage, the admiralty needed another fuel source on board if it wasn't enough. The logical choice was a magician, but instead of sending the usual minimum of a three-man crew, they sent him. He'd had a real shock at that one, nearly choked on his coffee. The more he heard about this posting, the more he had a sinking feeling about it. Mycroft had been pretty good about keeping his head down, but Trafalgar... Captain Martin hadn't bought his explanation of his whereabouts, and they both knew it. So much for not standing out.
No good pondering it.
Hands in the pockets of his coat, he noted that he'd reached the gangplank a few moments before, and had paused at the end of it. Shaking his head, as if his musings were cobwebs that he might dislodge, he began the ascent, setting foot on the deck of the ship a short time later, boots impacting against the deck quietly. The usual smog hovered about, but after a few year it was just expected. Twenty eight guns, by his count, and what looked like gatling guns in a few spots. Yes, the Pegasus was a new breed indeed.
His eyes didn't have to roam long to note the somewhat eclectic gathering of individuals around a central figure, clearly Captain Lorraine, judging by his garb, present up on the forecastle. Better report his presence, hand over his papers, et cetera, et cetera. Faster he did that, faster he could get belowdecks and see what, and who, he'd be working with for the duration of his stay. Truthfully, the "who" was more important. He could adapt to different equipment. But these smaller ships... Well, magicians weren't usually aboard, and being a living power source on board a ship where such people were expected yielded enough prejudiced people, he really hoped a lack of familiarity wouldn't indicate an abundance of prejudice.
But, dwelling on it wouldn't change things one way or the other. Time to get focused.
He crossed the deck to the forecastle, moving at a brisk but measured pace, coming to a stop a respectful distance away, hands still in his pockets. The captain was already having a conversation; Butting in wouldn't be polite, and judging by the apparent ranks of those involved, might in fact be downright foolish. He would speak when he was spoken to.
This was not half as easy to write as I expected it to be, and I went through more revisions on this CS alone than the last three or four combined. XD If there's anything amiss, or anyone has any objections, please let me know.
Name: William A. Mycroft
Age: 28
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Nationality: British
Occupation: Magician
Biography: William A. Mycroft, for much of his early life, led a distinctly undistinguished life. Son of a British merchant, he never really met his mother, nor did his father ever comment on her, though what little is certain is that the elder Mycroft returned from a trip to the New World with his son, only an infant, in tow. William fit in well for the first few years of his life, no different from any other child. That changed, however, when, quite by accident, it was discovered that he had an inherent aptitude for the use of magic. Though they were initially quite successful at hiding it, word of mouth spread quickly, and it wasn't long before most of his little corner of London knew, or suspected, that little William was a magician. It wasn't long past that when he found that not many of his former friends wanted to be around him anymore.
It never really bothered him, though. His father ran a book shop, and he simply turned instead towards the friends he might find in the pages of a book, or the accounts of times long gone. It wasn't hard to find papers written on the study of magic, either, and these he read with particular appetite. At the age of ten, he had begun experimenting with his abilities, testing his limits and becoming quite inventive in the use of them. He'd always had a particular affinity for fire, something that proved to be more than a little handy in keeping the home warm in winter and in general use in day to day life. He was always quiet about it, but he didn't hide it, either; If a business denied him entrance, he would simply find one that would serve him. If he was mocked, he ignored it. Public sentiment was easy to ignore, as long as he wasn't showing off exactly what he could do. And so it was that by the time William had reached the age of adulthood he was better read than some minor lordlings' sons, and equipped with an attitude that made it very hard to anger him, combined with a friendliness that made it hard to dislike him in the first place. That's not to say it was never an issue; Being one of the known magicians of a region tends to make one a target. For the first few years of his adulthood, he spent what spare time he had continuing his self-education with regards to magic. Essays, studies, theory, he read it all, much of it carried across the sea from the New World, where things weren't quite as restrained.
It took him a while, but eventually, William looked outside the realm of his own study. Europe wasn't in good shape, nd while Napoleon marched across the continent, he simply stayed inside his world of theory and thought. He'd spent most of his life harnessing the power he had, refining it, working to make it better. It was pointless if he didn't use it to do a ittle good, despite the stigma that magicians often held in the view of the common people. He enlisted in the Royal Navy, assigned to crew the boilers of one of their Man 'o Wars alongside a crew of other magicians.
The reality of the job was very different from what he'd anticipated. The skill level of his compatriots varied wildly, the only really consistent factor being that they all knew how to use magic to run a boiler. Outside of that, they ranged from highly practiced, if not all that well-read in the academi side of things, to barely knowing how to manage a stiff breeze. None of them were too eager to try and be much else, either; His first few months were full of attempts to reform the systems in place, discuss how to make it all more efficient. While many of the engineers were happy to listen, if only to learn about what they might be able to integrate later, on the whole no one was interested. And so, after a while, he simply gave up, and resigned himself to the undignified role of human power factory.
While that carried on for a few years, and across multiple ships, it was not an attitude that would be able to survive the battle of Trafalgar. William Mycroft was, at the time, assigned to a much smaller vessel, and as such, one outfitted with a much smaller team of magicians. Two individuals, plus William himself. He spent most of the early portion of the battle manning his shift at the boilers, while above-decks, the ship managed to get itself embroiled in a rather dicey section of the fighting. Distinctly outgunned, the ship was taking more of a beating than its captain wanted to admit. It is here that things take an odd turn; In the words of the captain, one Alistair Martin, "It was rather like, for this one little section of the sky, the Lord decided that he was indeed British and began to act accordingly." Wind, fire, and a few notable lightning bolts, did their best to wreak havoc on the enemy vessels, and doing a fair bit of damage. If nothing else, the sudden turn of nature bought the ship enough time to start hitting back. When the battle died down, the captain was curious about what was very clearly unnatural intervention; But when he reached the boilers, the two magicians not currently assigned to that task were operating them. When asked, they replied that William had talked them into it, saying that he needed to lend a hand elsewhere. When William did turn up, he was helping out the ship's engineer. Such a claim was notable tenuous, however, given how exhausted he was. To say that the Captain was fooled would be distinctly false, but he chose not to press the matter.
Weapon of choice: William carries a single pistol as his sidearm. The weapon has never been used in combat, and he quite suspects that it wouldn't be even in a fight.
Magic: Magicians, historically, have had a track record of being a monarch's preferred method to maintain control. Despite this negative light, William has always been fascinated by the powers he found himself with, and he eagerly learned anything he could about them, both in theory and in practice. Though he is particularly handy with fire, he has taught himself a reaosnable degree of control over most of the forces of nature, though water is something he struggles with more than the others. He doesn't exactly advertise his level of profficiency, however, a habit from his earlier years that he's never really shaken.
Appearance: Slightly taller than average, William Mycroft is of a mildly athletic build. His dark brown hair tends to be quite straight, and is eternally at just below the maximum length allowed by military regulation. He is always clean shaven, and if he's not, that's the first sign that something is quite amiss. His face is set in an almost perpetual smile, and a rather infetious one at that, something rather unusual for one of society's least popular types of people. Set above that smile, his eyes are a deep shade of blue. William is usually clad in a military-style long coat, gray in color, though when working belowdecks this is usually cast aside. His normal attire consists of simple trousers supported by a belt meant to hold anything he finds it necessary to carry, a plain white shirt, boots, and when working with the boilers, gloves.
Orientation/Relationship Status: Straight, Single
Audition:
"This isn't your ship anymore, Magician."
Standing at the docks, coat over his arm and a very perplexed expression on his face, William Mycroft was currently engaged in a conversation with his, apparently former, superior officer. Just beyond them was the ship that he had been serving on since Trafalgar, and the one that he had assumed he would still be serving on after his shore leave.
Apparently not.
"Sir, I'm not quite sure I understand what you mean."
"I mean you've been reassigned." The man opposite him seemed rather amused, truth be told, as he reached into his breast pocket to retrieve a small bundle of papers. "These got handed down the chain of command while you were away. Reassigned to the HMS Pegasus, which according to these, you're to report to later this week."
"Reassigned to the- Pardon me for asking, sir, but why? I've been doing my job here for a good long while now, and one magician seems to be as good as another when it comes to being a living fuel source."
"That's not accurate, and you know it, Mycroft." The officer raised an amused eyebrow, holding out the papers. "None of us are that daft; We've got a pretty good idea of what you don't say. Reassignment's nothing to do with me, but the captain didn't seem very surprised. Go on, get out of here. You'll want to read up on where you'll be serving, I'm sure."
Name: William A. Mycroft
Age: 28
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Nationality: British
Occupation: Magician
Biography: William A. Mycroft, for much of his early life, led a distinctly undistinguished life. Son of a British merchant, he never really met his mother, nor did his father ever comment on her, though what little is certain is that the elder Mycroft returned from a trip to the New World with his son, only an infant, in tow. William fit in well for the first few years of his life, no different from any other child. That changed, however, when, quite by accident, it was discovered that he had an inherent aptitude for the use of magic. Though they were initially quite successful at hiding it, word of mouth spread quickly, and it wasn't long before most of his little corner of London knew, or suspected, that little William was a magician. It wasn't long past that when he found that not many of his former friends wanted to be around him anymore.
It never really bothered him, though. His father ran a book shop, and he simply turned instead towards the friends he might find in the pages of a book, or the accounts of times long gone. It wasn't hard to find papers written on the study of magic, either, and these he read with particular appetite. At the age of ten, he had begun experimenting with his abilities, testing his limits and becoming quite inventive in the use of them. He'd always had a particular affinity for fire, something that proved to be more than a little handy in keeping the home warm in winter and in general use in day to day life. He was always quiet about it, but he didn't hide it, either; If a business denied him entrance, he would simply find one that would serve him. If he was mocked, he ignored it. Public sentiment was easy to ignore, as long as he wasn't showing off exactly what he could do. And so it was that by the time William had reached the age of adulthood he was better read than some minor lordlings' sons, and equipped with an attitude that made it very hard to anger him, combined with a friendliness that made it hard to dislike him in the first place. That's not to say it was never an issue; Being one of the known magicians of a region tends to make one a target. For the first few years of his adulthood, he spent what spare time he had continuing his self-education with regards to magic. Essays, studies, theory, he read it all, much of it carried across the sea from the New World, where things weren't quite as restrained.
It took him a while, but eventually, William looked outside the realm of his own study. Europe wasn't in good shape, nd while Napoleon marched across the continent, he simply stayed inside his world of theory and thought. He'd spent most of his life harnessing the power he had, refining it, working to make it better. It was pointless if he didn't use it to do a ittle good, despite the stigma that magicians often held in the view of the common people. He enlisted in the Royal Navy, assigned to crew the boilers of one of their Man 'o Wars alongside a crew of other magicians.
The reality of the job was very different from what he'd anticipated. The skill level of his compatriots varied wildly, the only really consistent factor being that they all knew how to use magic to run a boiler. Outside of that, they ranged from highly practiced, if not all that well-read in the academi side of things, to barely knowing how to manage a stiff breeze. None of them were too eager to try and be much else, either; His first few months were full of attempts to reform the systems in place, discuss how to make it all more efficient. While many of the engineers were happy to listen, if only to learn about what they might be able to integrate later, on the whole no one was interested. And so, after a while, he simply gave up, and resigned himself to the undignified role of human power factory.
While that carried on for a few years, and across multiple ships, it was not an attitude that would be able to survive the battle of Trafalgar. William Mycroft was, at the time, assigned to a much smaller vessel, and as such, one outfitted with a much smaller team of magicians. Two individuals, plus William himself. He spent most of the early portion of the battle manning his shift at the boilers, while above-decks, the ship managed to get itself embroiled in a rather dicey section of the fighting. Distinctly outgunned, the ship was taking more of a beating than its captain wanted to admit. It is here that things take an odd turn; In the words of the captain, one Alistair Martin, "It was rather like, for this one little section of the sky, the Lord decided that he was indeed British and began to act accordingly." Wind, fire, and a few notable lightning bolts, did their best to wreak havoc on the enemy vessels, and doing a fair bit of damage. If nothing else, the sudden turn of nature bought the ship enough time to start hitting back. When the battle died down, the captain was curious about what was very clearly unnatural intervention; But when he reached the boilers, the two magicians not currently assigned to that task were operating them. When asked, they replied that William had talked them into it, saying that he needed to lend a hand elsewhere. When William did turn up, he was helping out the ship's engineer. Such a claim was notable tenuous, however, given how exhausted he was. To say that the Captain was fooled would be distinctly false, but he chose not to press the matter.
Weapon of choice: William carries a single pistol as his sidearm. The weapon has never been used in combat, and he quite suspects that it wouldn't be even in a fight.
Magic: Magicians, historically, have had a track record of being a monarch's preferred method to maintain control. Despite this negative light, William has always been fascinated by the powers he found himself with, and he eagerly learned anything he could about them, both in theory and in practice. Though he is particularly handy with fire, he has taught himself a reaosnable degree of control over most of the forces of nature, though water is something he struggles with more than the others. He doesn't exactly advertise his level of profficiency, however, a habit from his earlier years that he's never really shaken.
Appearance: Slightly taller than average, William Mycroft is of a mildly athletic build. His dark brown hair tends to be quite straight, and is eternally at just below the maximum length allowed by military regulation. He is always clean shaven, and if he's not, that's the first sign that something is quite amiss. His face is set in an almost perpetual smile, and a rather infetious one at that, something rather unusual for one of society's least popular types of people. Set above that smile, his eyes are a deep shade of blue. William is usually clad in a military-style long coat, gray in color, though when working belowdecks this is usually cast aside. His normal attire consists of simple trousers supported by a belt meant to hold anything he finds it necessary to carry, a plain white shirt, boots, and when working with the boilers, gloves.
Orientation/Relationship Status: Straight, Single
Audition:
"This isn't your ship anymore, Magician."
Standing at the docks, coat over his arm and a very perplexed expression on his face, William Mycroft was currently engaged in a conversation with his, apparently former, superior officer. Just beyond them was the ship that he had been serving on since Trafalgar, and the one that he had assumed he would still be serving on after his shore leave.
Apparently not.
"Sir, I'm not quite sure I understand what you mean."
"I mean you've been reassigned." The man opposite him seemed rather amused, truth be told, as he reached into his breast pocket to retrieve a small bundle of papers. "These got handed down the chain of command while you were away. Reassigned to the HMS Pegasus, which according to these, you're to report to later this week."
"Reassigned to the- Pardon me for asking, sir, but why? I've been doing my job here for a good long while now, and one magician seems to be as good as another when it comes to being a living fuel source."
"That's not accurate, and you know it, Mycroft." The officer raised an amused eyebrow, holding out the papers. "None of us are that daft; We've got a pretty good idea of what you don't say. Reassignment's nothing to do with me, but the captain didn't seem very surprised. Go on, get out of here. You'll want to read up on where you'll be serving, I'm sure."
That actually answered the vast majority of my questions, which is great because I'd been thinking very hard about exactly what I was going to need to know so I could avoid pestering you with waves upon waves of questions. XD
To clarify a few points, however; On a ship like the Pegasus, would there normally be a small team? Or would there be some kind of system built into the boilers to prevent them from needing constant attention? I ask because it'd probably be hard to keep them going and act as the engineer's assistant if they required constant attention, to say nothing of when the magician had to sleep. XD
I think that's all I have for questions right now, but I'll be sure to PM you if I have any while writing my CS. I should hopefully have it done tomorrow evening at the latest.
To clarify a few points, however; On a ship like the Pegasus, would there normally be a small team? Or would there be some kind of system built into the boilers to prevent them from needing constant attention? I ask because it'd probably be hard to keep them going and act as the engineer's assistant if they required constant attention, to say nothing of when the magician had to sleep. XD
I think that's all I have for questions right now, but I'll be sure to PM you if I have any while writing my CS. I should hopefully have it done tomorrow evening at the latest.
Sounds more or less like what I expected. Do we have any idea how magic works here? I mean, obviously the specifics haven't been nailed down (Or at least revealed. XD) but has a general guideline, or a comparison to another fiction's magic, been made?
So, I commented in the interest check a few days ago, but sadly being sick has kept me from showing my face again until now. XD
If no one has dibs, I could make the Magician. Aside from being the Engineer's assistant, what does their job consist of?
If no one has dibs, I could make the Magician. Aside from being the Engineer's assistant, what does their job consist of?
LupusIntus said
I can't post until Asura who can't post until Kaithas comes back... (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻
Kaithas and I are aaaaaaaaaaaaaaalmost done with a collah post. Once we get our team name down we can finish it and get it posted.
(Great emoticon, though. XD)
I have some interest in joining, though as I understand it, there's a bit of a GM trouble.
If I can help, let me know. I have a decent amount of experience GMing, but I wouldn't be able to run this one as the Head GM. Not well, at least. XD I'm not extremely familiar with the time period that this is set in.
Tl;Dr If this gets off the ground, I'd like to play, and give me a shout if there's anything I can do to help.
If I can help, let me know. I have a decent amount of experience GMing, but I wouldn't be able to run this one as the Head GM. Not well, at least. XD I'm not extremely familiar with the time period that this is set in.
Tl;Dr If this gets off the ground, I'd like to play, and give me a shout if there's anything I can do to help.
Well, I was planning to make a male and someone said the same on the last page. Plus, we can't really know how many profiles were PMd instead of posted here.
Kinda hard to judge the character demographics. So, in my opinion, (For what it's worth =P) you're fine.
Kinda hard to judge the character demographics. So, in my opinion, (For what it's worth =P) you're fine.
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