Avatar of sail3695

Status

Recent Statuses

3 yrs ago
Current If you do, I'ma do too.
3 yrs ago
If you do, I'ma do too.

Bio

Sharing host/GM duties for "Firefly - Second 'Verse" with Wandering Wolf.

Other than that, kind of a goofball who loves writing stories and playing radio for an audience consisting entirely of my dogs.

Most Recent Posts

Artifacts




The Earth-That-Was Museum and Archive presented an imposing countenance to the general public. Patrons would ascend a broad stairway, under the watchful eyes of two white marble lions. The building’s facade was all heavy stone block construction boasting three tiers of windows. The copper roof glittered beneath Pelorum’s sun, it’s steep pitch rising another ten meters above the darkened stone wall, upon which traditional gargoyles and the mystic guardians of numerous cultures shared a perpetual vigil.

A pair of ornate doors served as the grand entrance, though there were used only for celebratory events and the occasional private function. The museum’s paying customers were issued through a pair of simple revolving doors which deposited them before a smiling ticket clerk.

On this day, the lobby resembled the grand hall of an ancient cathedral. “Notre Dame,” Edina’s eyes traversed the soaring columns and high pitched roof to settle on one of the magnificent stained glass windows, whose colors were projected onto the floor by an afternoon sun. She’d been largely silent during their visit, holding back as Yuri conducted the business portion with Mrs. Henrietta Cornwall, the museum’s founder and primary benefactor.

“Correct,” the elder woman’s face lit in a delighted grin. “I’m so pleased. We’ve been very painstaking in our recreation of Notre Dame. Still, it’s a rare eye that recognizes the sanctuary.”

The young woman’s smile was sheepish as she answered, “It was a school project, I’m afraid. Once you learn just what I don’t know you won’t be so impressed. But…can I ask a question? The roof,” Edina’s eyes coursed once more across the sturdy wooden beams and planking. “Is this from before the fire?”

“And you said you wouldn’t impress me,” Mrs. Cornwall laughed. “Yes! Yes it is! It’s our good fortune that before the fire of twenty nineteen, the entire structure had undergone a thorough data mapping, and a wonderfully accurate redrawing of the construction blueprints. Digital preservation,” the curator’s smile was genuine as she regarded the museum lobby. “As a bit of a history buff, I spend a great deal of time and energy tracking the few tangible artifacts carried on our colony ships. As you saw,” she turned her gaze toward the two younger visitors, “they are wonders to behold. But without this,” her hand swept across the expansive view, “even items so revered as a Faberge egg, the Gutenberg Bible, and even King Tutankhamen himself suffer for want of context.”

Yuri studied their surroundings. “I’m amazed that this is all holographic,” he shook his head. “For the life of me, I can’t spot the projection sources.”

The old woman nodded appreciatively. “I know only enough to be dangerous,” she offered, “but our technical chief tells me that we mask their presence by changing locations to match light sources in the simulation.. The sun, shining through that window, for instance. A holo projector is tucked there. Every night after close, our crew resets the lobby environment to match the next day’s environment. Tomorrow,” she gave the first mate a smile, “this space will be the central plaza of Vatican Square.”

Edina met this news with an excited grin. “I think you just sold two tickets.”

“Nonsense,” Cornwall brushed the notion aside. “You and your crew carried an Egyptian king to his new home. You’ll be welcome here as my guests. By the way,” she fixed Edina and Yuri with a mildly raised eyebrow, “we’re christening our new Aviation Pavilion with a nineteen forties themed celebration tomorrow evening. There’ll be period clothing, a big band, and dancing. It just so happens,” Henrietta smiled, “that I’ve a couple open seats at my table. Would you care to join us?”

“Nineteen forties aircraft,” Yuri replied, “and big band jazz and swing? I wouldn’t miss it!”

“So that’s how you’re asking to take me dancing?” Edina delivered a playful nudge.
The Things We Keep




“That’s jest how things are. Folk come and go in tha ‘verse.”

Yuri noted the manufactured diffidence with which Abby answered his questions. He knew her well enough at this point to understand the importance of work as her default. Though never one to be shy about her opinions, if the circumstance involved her personal feelings or some upset among the crew, she’d clam right up and find something to do. This morning, with the shock of Alana’s departure weighing heavily upon her, the girl was loathe to share any of her thoughts.

“True, true,” the first mate offered a sage nod. “You know you’re on shore leave, right? You don’t have to help with this.”

She din’ bother lookin’ up. “I know.” Since breakfast, Abby slipped inta denims an’ a work shirt. If she’s bein’ true, fact she worked her chores til past midnight left precious little tah make ‘erself look busy this mornin ‘. Seein’ Yuri workin’ their cargo, them six climate controlled boxes fer that museum, looked tah grant a bit ‘o’ purpose fer hands needed business….an’ some time tah sort out what’s in ‘er head. “My Uncle Bob always said ‘Work Before Play.’ Don’t seem right fer a deckhand tah go gallivantin’ while there’s work on deck needs doin’. Can yah gimme that socket wrench?” She done wormed ‘er way in twixt them crates. Now, after feelin’ tha tool land in ‘er palm, Abby set tah loosenin’ up them bolts what held tha crates in place. “Should I pull power while I’m here?” she asked without lookin’ back at Yuri.

“No,” he said. “The museum techs will disconnect that. I conjure they’ll want to make sure there were no changes while we had their cargo.”

Her wrench chattered as she unscrewed a bolt. “Any idea wassinum?”

Yuri had joined in with a second wrench to undo the mounting bolts he could reach. “Historical artifacts,” he answered. “That’s all I know.”

“Copy.” Fer her two cents, seemed like Yuri’s sayin’ ‘that’s all I know’ a skosh too much…but t’weren’t her business tah call ‘im out on such. “It’s a puzzlement,” she offered, by way ‘o’ makin’ conversation, “that when our ancestors left Earth-That-Was they made room fer old museum kinda stuff. I’da used up space fer tools an’ food…an’ such.”

“You’re not wrong.” Yuri’s wrench settled atop another bolt, chattering with each turn. “But maybe…faced with leaving our home and flying a hundred years to a new part of the night sky, d’you conjure folk back then thought it might be wise to bring along things to remind us where we came from?”

She ruminated on that. Even now, in a ‘verse full ‘o’ folk movin’ to an’ fro, all the people she met took a pride in pointin’ out they’s actually from someplace. Hook come from Hera, Edina’s born on New Melbourne. Pen hailed from Greenleaf. “Hey Yuri,” she got curious now, “where did yew come from?”

“New Vladivostok,” he said without looking up. “My dad was a mechanic for terraformers. Did most of my growing in a skyplex over Ezra. My mom still lives there.”

“Yah got anythin’ from them times?” Abby asked. “Tah remember?”

Yuri shook his head. “What I had went down with my old ship. How about you?” he asked. “Where do you call home?”

“Don’t rightly know.” I’s raised by muh aunt an’ uncle. Spent muh whole life I can remember in tha black. So I guess Mariposa’d be muh home…but she’s been scrapped out nigh on two years now.”

“Got any keepsakes?” he asked. “To remember your childhood?"

“I do.” He could hear the girl brighten. “Got a couple captures on muh wall. Muh daddy’s pistol…an’ a book what’s called ‘Gunfighters of tha Outer Rim.’ Muh Uncle Bob’s in it,” her tone became proud. “Durin’ his prime, he’s tha fastest gun in tha ‘verse. Book says so.”

The first mate smiled as he worked. “Sounds like quite a man, Abby. Makes sense that you’d have someone like him in your line. And some pretty shiny keepsakes, to boot.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, “I’m tryna learn more ‘bout muh parents. They both died in tha war. Now with Uncle Bob an’ Aunt Lupe gone, muh chance ‘o’ findin’ out’s gettin’ right slim.” She tapped ‘er wrench on tha deck, dislodgin’ a bolt caught in tha socket. “They’s a barkeep on Grenleaf knowed muh daddy. I’s gonna see him, but them bikers come along…Yuri,” her tone changed as her wrench stopped workin’. “Yah think it’s important? Makin’ sure folk got a keepsake tah ‘member yah by?”

“I think it helps.”

“Yeah,” tha girl thought on it some more. If Alana’s truly gone, and gone she surely was right now, Abby seen her go without givin’ her nothin’. She give Hook a farewell. She’n Pen done traded things to an’ from afore tha pilot rejoined ‘er family. But Alana, who took ‘er in, protected her, patched ‘er up twice? She meant too much tah just let fly off in ta tha black. Abby had tah find ‘er…give ‘er tha one thing come from their bond way back when it started.

She had tah track Alana down.

“Yuri,” Abby spoke up. “Done undid all tha bolts in tight spots. Is it shiny with yew fer me tah go now?”
Happy Sunday from the cargo bay!

It sure looks like Cap'n and the doc are on the outs right now...in the middle of the 'verse's most romantic getaway location. Funny how things can go all squirrely like that. But, the rest of us are on shore leave, if we're of a mind to take it. Of course, with Alana gone, don't seem like a single one of us got fun on the brain at the current moment...

Just a reminder that Pelorum is a wide open episode. You can either tag onto the one or two plots we'll float, or break completely away to write your character's own adventure. If your personal plot includes Yuri, Abby, or Edina, send me a wave and I'll be glad to join you.

We recently asked your opinions regarding the future of FF2V. The exercise proved not only enlightening, but also rewarding. Of the options offered, you were all most interested to keep flying, with a few reboots and tweaks. Some followup convos revealed that reboots were largely character oriented. While I'm aware of one or two character/position changes in the works, I have to say it was fortunate news that many of China Doll's crew will remain aboard. Yes, I love Abby Travis, even though vocalizing her speech and narrations is slowly wrecking my grammatical writing skill.

The option for a hiatus also received sufficient upvotes to warrant some discussion. We're keenly interested in what that would mean to each of you. I've got a couple of notions to run by you as well.

Wolf had recently tried to corral us into a live chat or a Discord voice chat to discuss where we'd like to take the three winning approaches. I think getting us all together is an excellent idea. When I return from my current goofing off (first beach trip of the year), we'll ping each of you for the right day/time/format.

On a personal note, my takeaways from our discussion were really quite poignant. The fact that every one of you voiced the desire for us to remain together was a mighty tug on my heart strings. I couldn't agree more. It's such a privilege to be part of a group whose talents leave me both envious and entertained with each post. Your characters live and breathe through your words, and frequently leave me uttering "I wish I'd written that." Add to that the friendships we've formed along the way, the celebrations of each other's lives and the support for our struggles that flow so freely among us, and it becomes apparent that FF2V has grown into more than the sum of its' parts.

Thank you all for making China Doll fly. Your love is definitely keeping this old boat in the air.

WWIF,

sail
The Helper (Shore Leave, Day 1 Morning)




Question: How do you help out on a boat when you don’t know a gorram thing about living and working in the black?

Answer: Do any little thing you can.

Right now, that was cooking. There was no equal for Joe Hooker in China Doll’s galley, a fact that the crew and passengers all learned abruptly. Hook’s decision to cast his lot with the Anabaptists had come as a shock, apparently as much to him as anyone else. Edina recognized his torment at leaving this crew, but the look in his eyes as he told of what he’d found in the faith made an even more powerful statement to those who’d listen. In the end, his departure was met with smiles, hugs, and tears among all of his shipmates…accompanied by a precipitous drop in the quality of grub.

The college kids were the easiest. They devoured anything and everything that required no waiting or minimal prep. As a result, all the packaged cereal, snack foods, and sandwich makings were completely gone. Watchful of her own crew, Edina the ad hoc cook had squirreled away the final two slices of bread, an unappetizing pair of heels, for Abby’s usual morning toast and jam. Even that simple repast took effort, as the students’ ravages left precious little jam in the jar. “Sorry, Abby,” she apologized as she laid the sad result before the deckhand. “Yuri promised to help me restock the galley today…”

“Don’t worry on my account,” the teeneager answered. “I can live on peebee an’ jays whole time we’s here, if it helps. Long’s we cot coffee,” she added with a smirk.

Sister Lyen seemed just as easy to please. Though Edina had noticed a preference for fresh fruits and rice concoctions, the newest member of the crew was always one to graciously accept whatever pitiful fare the volunteer cook might wrench from a near empty pantry. She’d managed to preserve an orange for the nun, which had been served as slices framing a laughably poor attempt at sticky rice balls, all of which Lyen treated as a banquet.

Imani Ozuka seemed every bit as hardy as her nature. She ate whatever Edina placed before her, offering no complaint…though she was a fan of salt and pepper. The new kitchen helper decided to engage her in conversation…feel her out for any preferences.

By far, the most interesting challenge was Elias, their phantom mechanic. Before his departure, Hook had explained what he knew of the towering man’s wounds and his own efforts to provide nutrition. Every meal was centered on basic protein paste, generally cut with milk, eggs, or water to ease in the process of swallowing. She dove into research, attempting to come up with the best approach on his behalf. What little the cortex could offer her did tell Edina that taste buds weren’t only found on the tongue, but also the roof of the mouth.

This epiphany set the woman onto a course of pursuing solutions for the mechanic. First, the food itself required some structure, enough to lift it to the roof of his mouth. From there, it was all about seasonings She had no clue as to the nature of the taste buds residing up there, so every meal was a different attempt at flavoring. So far, they’d agreed on hot seasonings. Now, she was working on sweet, sour, and savory, with an equal effort to give Elias’ nose something to look forward to at mealtime.

Quill Casidy entered the galley. For a woman so supremely well put together, she was the simplest of the lot. Edina smiled and greeted her with the steaming mug. After a gracious nod and a few pleasantries, she joined the little group at the long table, her breakfast of a single cup of coffee cradled in both hands as she added to their conversation.

Edina returned to her work on Elias’ breakfast. The other men aboard were typical in their preferences. Bacon, sausage, eggs, all of which she’d guarded jealously to have something for them on this first morning of shore leave. Tommy, the pilot, had taken off before dawn to grab an eastbound shuttle to some sort of ranch. She knew that Yuri was about, busying himself to hand over their cargo to the Earth-That-Was museum. As for the captain, and for that matter, the one woman she hadn’t seen today, the doctor? Edina hoped that they were beginning a well needed break by sleeping in together. She smiled to herself, a secret understanding that lately, similar notions had crossed her mind. “Who needs more coffee?” she piped up, to be greeted with a small sea of hands.

She could help. She could make this home.

She set Elias’ breakfast before him, then attempted to sign. “Sweet,” Edina signaled. “Let know me.” Around them, the conversation was lively. Abby was talking about the beach and buying herself a bikini, a topic that both Quill and Imani offered to share their expertise. The modest Sister Lyen looked on in quiet amusement. And then, there was Yuri.

Upon reading his grim expression, her blossoming smile faded. “Hey,” she asked, “Is everything alright?”

“No,” he replied, before quieting the group. “People? People!” he stepped to the head of the table. “I’ve got news.” The crew was now silent, all eyes directed to the first mate. “Captain wanted me to let you know that our doctor has decided to leave the boat. Sorry,” he lifted a hand to still mouths opening to spill questions, “She’s already gone. That’s all I know.”

Under a deepening pall of silence he turned aft, making his way down to the cargo bay. Among those who remained in the galley, not a word was spoken, as if the simple act of doing so might prove inappropriate or rude. After a minute’s silence, Abby scooted her chair. Rising quietly onto her bare feet, the deckhand took her dishes to the sink. Edina could see the furrows on the girl’s brow…furrows that threatened to become storm clouds over glistening eyes as she hurried past.

She knew that of the current crew, none were closer to Alana than Abby, except for the captain himself. But as she quietly studied the eyes of shipmates leaving one by one, Edina understood that pain was a deeply personal thing, not to be compared or measured by degree. Again, feeling her own sense of loss, she thought of the two questions.

How do you help out?

Do any little thing you can.
”Welcome To Paradise"




Tommy Pearson is a character created by @Herald

The black surrounding Pelorum was a busy, crowded place. Everywhere Yuri looked, his eyes could spot the comings and goings of a myriad ships…a vast, seemingly chaotic armada, mere seconds from calamity, yet sewn together in a complex, living tapestry. The pilot’s radar could offer only a hint at the vast, intricate ballet that flowed to the world, its’ moons, and dozens of sprawling orbital casinos. For the moment, Yuri gave quiet thanks that his was not the hand required to thread this particular needle. Still, a glance toward Tommy Pearson was a glimpse into the pilot’s personal tao. He took his surroundings in stride, somehow finding China Doll’s place in the transitioning framework.

Tommy keyed his mic. “Pelorum Approach, this is CV China Doll, pulse beacon ident seven-seven-six-zero Mike Charlie, standing by for burn in clearance.” The greeting was followed by an easy touch to the throttles. “Pelorum’s a busy place…especially right now with all the colleges in the ‘verse out for Spring Break. I conjure we’ll be coasting for a few ticks.”

“Heard that,” Yuri nodded from the left seat. “I know our bunch of kids are chomping at the bit…”

He was interrupted by a sudden burst of com traffic, a voice booming from a powerful transceiver. ’CV China Doll, we show you third in line for entry corridor two. Come left to zero-niner-four and make your speed fifteen-K-two-zero seven knots.”

“China Doll copies.” With a gentle touch to the yolk, the pilot nudged his throttles, goading the Firefly back up to standard reentry speed. A subtle roll brought the crystal blue disc of Pelorum to center beneath them.

In the distance lay the flashing beacon, a channel marker for one of the planet’s dozen re-renty points. As Yuri watched, a vessel swept past, her hull soon trailing flame as she buffeted into the thick warmth of the planet’s tropical atmosphere. “Guess I’d better get the children strapped in,” he quipped as he keyed the intercom mic.

”This is the first mate. We’re on final approach to New Iberia Spaceport. At this time, we need everybody strapped in place for burn in and landing. Abigail and Edina will come around to make sure you’re all squared away. Temperature at New Iberia is seventy-nine degrees. Local time is four fifty-two PM. The youth hostel you all booked will have rickshaws waiting for you when we touch down. I just want to say.” Yuri continued, “on behalf of the crew, we’re all grateful for your help getting the Anabaptists out of harm’s way. Hope you have a happy time on Pelorum.”

Hee slipped the mic back into it’s cradle, taking note of a quiet smirk on the pilot’s face. “Oh come on,” he chuckled. “They weren’t that bad, were they?”

Tommy fixed him with a sidelong glance. “Have you talked to Abby?” The pilot’s smirk broadened to a wry grin at the first mate’s nonplussed expression. “One of our college boys got a might…familiar…with our deckhand. Not to worry,” he chuckled. “Let’s just say she taught him the error of his ways.”

“Did that lesson end up in the medbay?”

“Nope,” the pilot smiled,, “but there’s bets bein’ laid about how quick he gets off when we drop the ramp.”

Yuri chuckled to himself. “Put me down for twenty.” He made a note to himself for a sit down with Abby. While there was no doubt the young deckhand could dispatch the unwanted attentions of a passenger, he thought it wise for her to fill him in when she ran afoul of such doings. For that matter, he thought all the women of China Doll should speak out. After Greenleaf and their dealings on Osiris, there wasn’t a one of them he didn’t care about. The ‘verse could be a hard place for a woman…but China Doll was sprouting a sense of home. By Buddha, he wanted it safe for them.

”China Doll, you’re cleared for entry corridor two. Maintain speed and pitch Z minus twenty-five degrees.”

“Roger, Pelorum,” Tommy acknowledged as he wheeled the boat into the channel. “China Doll’s on burn in.” One he’d set their descent course, the pilot pitched the Firefly’s nose up. Almost immediately could be felt the friction of atmo as it brushed their hull, rising temperature bringing with it a cherry red glow and fiery wake as she plunged into the air. “So, Yuri,” he asked casually, “got any plans for your down time?”

The first mate responded with a solitary shake of his head. “Not much. After Earth-That-Was Museum picks up their cargo I might drop by to have a look around. Maybe check out a jazz club if such is available,” he answered. Edina had already agreed to the museum trip. An easy enough outing. But jazz could be an acquired taste. He wondered if she had any interest, or if he should leave that as a solo night.

“Thinking I’ll go inland,” the pilot kept steady hands upon the yolk as the roar of thickening air played over the outer hull. “There are horse farms further in. Been a hound’s age since I sat a horse,” his tone became wistful as the atmo engines roared to life. “Ranch I’m eyeballin’ also has cattle drives. Haven’t thrown a lariat since I sprouted chin hairs,” he said.

The mate gave a positive nod. “Sounds really fine,” he agreed. “I conjure Cap’n’s gonna leave me to mind the store for a few days. Do me a favor? Take lots of captures?”

“Sure thing, Yuri.”

China Doll broke into a clear sky, her form silhouetted in the afternoon sun as she rode in over the wavetops. The coastline was a clutter of tightly packed resort hotels and vacation condominiums, their occupants teaming like ants across the beach and into the shallows of turquoise clear water. A moment’s passage soon found them over New Iberia Spaceport, hovering serenely as Tommy’s hand guided her nose in line with the berthing space below. As the longshoremen waited to couple umbilicals, the Firefly settled onto her struts, her posture seeming to ease as the engines spun down. This would be her home for the next several days…nearabouts a week, if Cap’n’s plans were to flower.

“Abby,” Yuri keyed the intercom. “We’re secured. You can open ‘er up.”

“Shiny,” came the girl’s answer.

Yuri watched as the corresponding light on Tommy’s panel switched from green to red. Despite his better judgment, the first mate couldn’t resist calling the deckhand once again. “I heard you made a passenger really interested in getting off the boat,” he said.

“You heard true,” Abby’s voice crackled over the speaker.

Tommy grinned as Yuri asked, “should I come down to see him off?”

“Done gone already.”

“Hmmm, seems awful quick. Abigail Travis, did you scare a passenger off this boat?...”

“...Again?” Tommy chortled.

Yuri laughed. “Again?” he finished the question.

He could read the faux innocence of her tone as she answered. “I ain’t did a thing, sir.”

“Nothing?”

“Nary a bit,” the girl replied. “Short ‘o’ introducin’ ‘im tah muh friend Sam.”

As Yuri’s brow furrowed, the pilot threw back his head and laughed. “I don’t get it,” the mate admitted. “Sam who?”

A gleeful Tommy replied by lifting the revolver from his hip. “Samuel Colt.”

Yuri keyed the mic one last time. “Shiny. Carry on.”
I'm in complete agreement with Wolf, and very curious to learn just what rebooting means to each of you. It's more than a little exciting to consider new characters and settings, not to mention plot lines. I'm really keen to listen to all of your ideas.

I'm also interested in whether a hiatus should still be on the agenda. We can discuss that possibility and how it might work best for you as well. (I was telling Wolf that I've got a ton of bits for my characters on Pelorum, and could likely fill a hiatus period just for fun, should we decide to undertake one.)

I'll be traveling with Mrs. Sail on Friday the 14th, but if I ply her dinner and drinks she's likely to grant permission for my joining a get together.

Sail
Happy Sunday from the cargo bay!

So, Wolf and I have been talking. When we started FF2V in 2021, we understood that our writers would all be adults with busy lives. At the time, we were just beginning to slowly emerge from the pandemic, and for many of us, the habits of quarantine were committed to muscle memory. Then the world came roaring back, and all of us found ourselves immersed once more in increasingly hectic schedules. So much so that it seems the only writing we could all share in over the past few months was a stream of apologies for our individual lapses.

And that, dear shipmates, is a violation of our one and only rule, “Write When It’s Fun.”

You’re all a conscientious, highly talented group of writers. As your hosts, the last thing we’d wish is knowing that you all feel badly about life pulling you away from our little game. With that in mind, we thought it was time to reach out to you all for your thoughts on the future of FF2V. We’ve had a few discussions, and settled on some possible options:

1. Sunset the game. “All good things…” The current episode sees us on Pelorum, which could serve as a “happily ever after” in and of itself. The freeform nature of this episode allows for characters to seek their own conclusions and stories. Under this option, you could write your ‘happily ever after’ or ‘bitter conclusion’ as you see fit from Pelorum. Or, for that matter, writers could simply choose to call a halt.

2. Hiatus. As spring and summer are typically much busier times for us all, this option would simply place FF2V on seasonal hiatus, beginning now and running through Labor Day ‘23.

3. Full shutdown. Right now, China Doll is flying toward the happiest place in the ‘verse. We could just leave it there, roll credits, and all head off to do our taxes.

4. Reboot. If we’d like to keep the band together, this offers us the option to consider new stories, characters, even a complete genre shift.

5. Keep Flying. Under the heading “Know Thyself,” I must admit that I still love Firefly and my characters have told me (one in no uncertain terms) that they still have things to say. If you decide you want to keep the boat in the black and participate when you’ve got time to enjoy, you and I can put our heads together and figure it out. However, such a call places no obligation on any shipmate, be they member writer or game host.

That’s what we’ve hashed out. What do you think?

Sail
In My Own Good Time




If ya’s to ask ‘er right now, Abby’d say them Anabaptists was scads easier’n half their number ‘o’ college kids.

They knowed straight up she didn’t believe in none ‘o’ that stuff, but it didn’t matter none. They’s gracious an’ kindly, pickin’ up after theirselves an’ thankin’ China Doll’s crew fer every little courtesy. One of the womenfolk, called ‘erself Sister Melinda, even sewed the bullet rip in ‘er fav’rite work shirt. She used a piece ‘o’ floral print fer that part got blowed off, laid it in thin and smooth tah make damage look right purty when she’d gaze upon it in tha mirror. It was so nice havin’ ‘em that when they’s all dropped off on Bernadette, tha deckhand made sure their blankets an’ such was all clean, an’ that all the little girls had dolls tah take on their next adventure.

But them college kids? Abby weren’t one tah shǔ nobody out, but fer fuck’s sake! She couldn’t keep up with their folderol. Fer all their learnin’ an’ high talk tah make ‘er feel stupid, it’s like none ‘em was ever learned what trash cans was for. Most sure’s hell didn’t conjure carryin’ glasses an’ plates back tah tha galley. An’ tha lav. When they wasn’t humpin’ two an’ three at a time in tha showers, towels an’ rags was strewn all about, an’ she’d find commodes all filthy an’ unflushed…or clogged an’ overflowin’. If she didin’t conjure tha risk they run fer them Anabaptists, Abby mighta loosed a righteous tongue lashin’ on tha lot of ‘em by now. Only a day an’ a half, she kep tellin’ herself. Only a day and a half.

Mind yew, they wasn’t all bad. Christina, she who Abby done give up her room for, was kind hearted. She kep tah herself, closed up in tha deckhand’s tiny quarters with a handful ‘o books from tha passenger lounge. She said she’s a “Lit Major,” meanin’ someone who’s goin’ tah college jest tah read all kindsa books. Though Abby held ‘er tongue on that, Christina din’ talk down tah her, even talked lots with ‘er about the Mei Lin stories she’s readin’. Better still, she give ‘er a list of books she might like. One series was about a school fer young witches an’ wizards. Weren’t Abby’s usual stock, but stories she tole about “the boy who lived” an’ his friends sounded more smart an’ heartfelt than fanciful. They traded contacts, an’ the deckhand promised she’d pick up tha first book after Mei Lin’s adventure was done.

Now, with eight hours’ flyin’ time left an’ laundry runnin’ in both machines, she could catch ‘er breath an’ actually think on what her coin might afford her on Pelorum. Precious little, Abby conjured, after buyin’ a bikini like she an’ Alana said they’s doin’ together. But tha beach was free, an’ she could spend all tha time she desired on tha sand, with one book or ‘nother. Sounded mighty nice. Nicer still if she could share it with Thomas. But he ain’t speakin’ with her jest now, leavin’ a whole stack ‘o’ her waves unanswered. She decided she ain’t sendin’ no more. She ‘pologized aplenty; now it’s on him. On his time.

The days ahead was hers.
Aww, shucks...

I'm just sorry for the lag time, gang. Just emerged from the six busiest months of my career, and I've got the blown out desk chair to prove it. (Important work/life balance note: When you find yourself using pairs of socks to cover crumbling armrests, that's a telltale sign of two situations that bear correction.) But anyway...

Happy Sunday from the cargo bay!

As Wolf pointed out, we're now into Episode 5, "Shore Leave." Cap'n's got the boat pointed toward Pelorum, and he's in a mind to give his hard working crew a few days off. You can get the full skinny over in the IC thread, along with our latest "Crap Art" travel poster. Yeah, I believe this is becoming a thing.

It bears repeating that while our plan for Ep 5 is completely up to you, we will run a couple underlying plots for anyone who wants to play along. And for all you who have your own character stories to tell, just know that if you need our characters to support your ideas, just send a wave. We're happy to see your adventures come to life.

So, I'm traveling for the next 3 weeks (work thing.) Mainly SOS, different office, meaning I'm pretty confident that I can keep up with y'all. However, if my responses are a little delayed, just know that I'll still be checking and keeping myself current with the happenings on and off the boat.

Now, get your sunscreen and a beach chair. Abby's got bikini shopping in mind...leastways til she sees the price tag. "Fer Buddha's sake, I'll jest go swimmin' in muh gorram unders!"

WWIF,

sail

Episode 5 - Shore Leave




STORY NOTE: After her run-in with some angry slavers, China Doll made a bee line for her true destination…Bernadette. Once there, the crew bade their farewells to the Anabaptist refugees. Sister Lyen had found them the perfect match, their forty souls filling the ranks of a colony ship headed for New Omaha, one of Deadwood’s moons. The life they faced would by no means be an easy one, but the choice to go was made as free people.

The college students who’d all served as body doubles had chosen to remain aboard for the free ride to Pelorum, the timing a perfect fit for the much vaunted Spring Break. Likewise, Sister Lyen Giu had also opted for China Doll, due in part to the prominent display of her name in a crisp Osiris arrest warrant.

Ahead of them lay Pelorum, the resort jewel of the ‘verse. Though the college kids had already started the party, many of China Doll’s crew were looking forward to some much needed down time. Some had big plans; others wished little more than their toes in the sand. Fingers crossed that life doesn’t go sideways.

PELORUM: The Firefly Travelers’ Companion to the ‘Verse tells us this:

“With its’ crystal blue waters and temperate climate, Pelorum has earned its’ reputation as one of the most desirable vacation destinations in the entire ‘Verse.”

Most of the planet’s surface is devoted to resorts so exclusive and expensive that they’ll make you wonder if Pelorum’s host protostar (Lux) is actually short for “Luxurious.” While the steep prices tend to limit Pelorum’s clientele to the wealthiest members of Core Society, the planet often finds itself host to crews coming home from a big job—or a big heist—who are looking to unwind in style. No matter where you’re from, though, if you have the credits to spare, Pelorum is the perfect place to relax and recover from a long journey across the ‘Verse.”


PLAYER NOTE: While we will have one or two central plots for the episode, your characters’ time on Pelorum is largely their own. Engaging the central plots is purely optional. Feel free to explore and run individual character stories as you wish! While we, your humble hosts, do have some plans for our characters, please reach out if any of those folk might help you realize your own character subplots.

We begin Episode 5 with China Doll about 8 hours away from landing. Despite the havoc of college kids en route to their party destination, the mood aboard is definitely buoyant...for most of us.

Now, go have fun!

You still here? Go on…git!
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet