Another of our fun little RPs from a couple years back . . .
the HMS Felicia
Posted by Ronin on October 9, 2012 at 6:37pm in Steampunk RP – The QBR, et alia …
ok. a little writing experiment. bear with me on this. Ive done these before and they can be fun.
a new kind of RP. it has rules, but the rules can keep the flow alive and helps keep things readable and very dynamic.
so, the rules
1) only a single paragraph max can be added by any one character. less is ok, even down to a single sentence, but not more than a normal sized paragraph. it helps keep things moving, allows quick adds to keep things moving and lends itself to the ebb and flow that mutiple personas will undoubtedly create.
2) you cannot add another paragraph until at least one other has been posted by another person.
3) you may only write for a single character. your own. you cannot guide, speak for, act as or instead of any other character than yourself/your own character. much like life, you may REALLY want someone else to do X or Y…however there is no way to force that into reality. you can of course, think whatever you wish and express it as such, but actively directing or writing for another character is not allowed. please dont do so here.
4) stay in character. you may feel free to write OOC (Out Of Character) pieces to express concerns, thoughts etc..but please label it as such. please also keep it separate from any IC (In Character) posts.
5) the controller. the controller is the one who sets the scene, tosses in the occasional bit of scenario or causal piece to which everyone will have to deal with. normally, its pretty benign…normally. “a waiter, carrying a platter full of cabernet offers you a glass”. simple no? then again they may also toss in the occasional: “a waiter, carrying a platter full of cabernet trips on the rug and dumps the entire contents onto a woman and her poodle, dousing them both from head to tail in red wine”
oddly enough, you might just be the woman with a poodle. :o)
the controller will not and may not have a character of their own. the reason is that in past experience, they tend to give their own characters advantages the others have no way of knowing about. they also tend to inadvertantly give clues to whatever might come next. as most writers are very clever, aware folks, even the smallest clues can sway the writing to giving them a headstart if theyre keen enough to catch it…and they usually are.
so, with that…
Reply by Ronin on October 9, 2012 at 6:37pm
controller: you’ve been invited to a formal cocktail party aboard the HMS Felicia. a grand old yacht owned by the CEO of the company you’ve worked for, for about a month. since youre new in town, you really have no idea why or how you were invited nor what to expect, but you surely couldn’t miss such an event put on by your new employer for fear of offending them. the limousine sent by your company has brought you to the docks in grand fashion. youre greeted by a handsome uniformed young man who hands you a beautifully chilled glass of champagne as you stroll up the gangplank and bids you to board.
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 9, 2012 at 6:49pm
“Blast it all, while I’m mercenary enough to appreciate this invitation could very well be just the thing to get me one of those elusive keys to the executive washroom, I wish I had just a tad more advance warning,” Robert Grey thought ruefully to himself as he strode up the gangplank. He self-consciously accepted the glass of champagne from the bursar, painfully aware that his suit was wrinkled and smelled faintly of moth balls. With glass in hand, Robert continued up the gangplank, glancing about to see who else might be in attendance . . .
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on October 9, 2012 at 11:00pm
Wondering for the umpteenth time why ‘the Boss’ would be interested in me (really hoping it has nothing to do with those extra pay vouchers) and checked my suit once more for any issues. Taking in a full breath, I exclaim, “I do like the sea air.”
Reply by Professor Extreme ! on October 10, 2012 at 4:29am
Professor Extreme walked briskly up the gang plank and looked around. He didn’t like boats, but the chance of a trip away from the laboratory was too good a chance to miss. Maybe he could be away from all those problems with his arch enemy and finally relax. The invitation was strange though, he’d only ever worked for the company briefly, a long time ago and it had ended badly. But a cruse on such a superb day was too good to miss. He glanced upwards to look at the darkening clouds and it stared to rain…
Reply by Sparrow on October 10, 2012 at 8:47am
Claire de Chastenet was surprised at receiving an invitation, after all, she had only been working for the company such a short amount of time. She also thought it curious that the RSVP’s ‘will attend’ box had already been checked off when it arrived, but this was the best job she ever had, the salary and benefits phenomenal, and she wasn’t about to lose it so soon after being hired. “Ours is not to reason why” she thought, politely declining the proffered glass as she boarded the HMS Felicia. A chill passed through her causing her to pull the cardigan she was wearing more closely about her. She ascribed it to her being unaccustomed to the brisk sea air, only having recently moved to the coast from inland. Another gust seemed to push her slight frame up the boarding ramp, just as it began to rain.
Reply by Ronin on October 10, 2012 at 11:49am
OOC: Ive purposely not given a time period for the event ( I thought to allow you all to pick that for yourselves.) other than the use of the term ‘limousine’, which normally denotes a period where motor carriages were available to the wealthy. however, that doesnt mean it was indeed a motorcar.
just as a note,
Since the 1700s
In some form or another, the concept of a chauffeured vehicle has been in existence since the 1700’s. Developed with the wealthy in mind, they started as horse drawn carriages, gilded in gold and pulled by only the finest animals.The word limousine is the feminine adjective formed from the word Limoges which is the province in France that started it all.The notable feature that makes limousines different from other vehicles (or in this case carriages) is that the driver is in an entirely separate compartment from their fare.
with that, you have quite a vast time period in which to play.
I also like the Majors use of images within the post and fully encourage you all to do the same should you decide to. it is not a requirement by any stretch however. I may toss an image or two out as well for environmental and scenic purposes.
Reply by Ronin on October 10, 2012 at 2:34pm
controller: as you enter the main room aboard the well appointed yacht your eyes are met with a beautiful parlour of dark wood paneling, numerous works of art hanging on the walls and a buffet being swarmed by a half dozen serving staff in pristine white coats working feverishly setting up the finest gourmet faire. the commotion of the two dozen or more other party guests mingling about merrily, adds an energy to the room of an audience awaiting a curtain call for a sold out theatre perfomance.
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 10, 2012 at 4:26pm
As soon as Robert Grey stepped off the gangplank onto the ship, he was caught up by the press of guests flowing into the dining room. Like a salmon trying to fight its way upstream, he forced his way through the crowd and dived into a quiet, out of the way corner to catch his breath. Robert had asked around a bit before tonight’s event, apparently the HMS Felicia had been quite the cruise ship in its day, then during the war it had been retro-fitted as a troop carrier, after that it had been used to lay trans-Atlantic telegraph cable before eventually ending up in dry-dock in the Barbados, a forgotten relic of a bygone era. Apparently some hitherto unknown investment group had only recently purchased the Felicia and had sunk quite a bit of dough into revamping her and making her sea worthy again, but exactly who this investment group was or what their ultimate intentions were, was completely unknown. Robert’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of music coming from the room behind him . . .
Reply by Professor Extreme ! on October 10, 2012 at 5:09pm
Prof Extreme, doubled back to stand behind the man giving out the champagne. Waiting for his moment he studied the uniform. Although smart, it lacked any of the indications of rank. Well then, its not a military or government ship he thought. An old gentleman stumbled up the gang plank, the greeter catches his arm and steadys him. Prof Extreme sees his chance and uses the diversion to slip back onto the gangplank, Taking his second glass of champagne he heads towards the lounge. The Prof was astounded with the collection of people in the lounge, it seamed apparent that everyone had had a different idea of what was suitable attire for a cocktail party. From Bermuda shorts and safari jackets to full penguin suits strange… Prof Extreme looked round, he had a dilemma, the buffet or the bar? A waiter solved the problem by offering him a large drink in a monogrammed glass. DJW ? Who, or what could that be?
Reply by Christine on October 10, 2012 at 9:53pm
Miss Belanger was worried and embarrassed that she had arrived so early. How utterly ridiculous she was! In the ensuing wait for the other guests she had accepted such a lot of champagne. This was not a problem while she sat still, but when she returned a smile or nodded politely her equilibrium would go for a swim. She rose to better receive the greeting of a new work colleague. The coy tilt of her head made the room spin and blur. Upon her feet each step was decidedly, deliciously swishy. “ Call me Christabel” she managed breathily.
Reply by Ezra Yesterday on October 10, 2012 at 11:36pm
Chuck had been mingling for about 45 minutes, just circulating amongst the other guests, sipping his champagne, enjoying the tastefully understated opulence of the Felicia and catching snippets of various discussions as he wandered past. Because he was so new to the area and the company, he had yet to strike up a conversation of his own, instead opting to stroll about and try to find his boss and thank him for the unexpected invite. But as he meandered among the little knots of conversation he had begun to notice something rather odd: It seemed that a curiously large proportion of his fellow guests were [you should pardon the pun] in exactly the same boat as he was…. New to town, recent hires to the company, and completely in the dark as to why they would be invited for a limo ride and a posh cocktail party. And no one he had heard had seen their boss either. Perhaps it was time to wander more, and pay a bit more attention to the layout, and the location of the exits.
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on October 11, 2012 at 1:57am
Having made my way into the Dining Room through the other “packed sardines”, I head over to the bar and order a rock rye on the rocks. “Nice digs here,” I quip to the tender, all the while keeping an ear out for some tasty tidbits. Glancing around, I spy a neat little dish over by the main seating and stroll over for a talk. As I get closer, I thank Uncle Bastable for convincing me I should accept the invite. “How you doin’ toots? My name is Tennessee.”, I toss her way as she stands shakily to her feet.
Reply by Sparrow on October 11, 2012 at 7:31am
An announcement was made, the show would start in thirty minutes. Glancing about the dining room, Claire noticed a few people she recognized, but only in passing. Her job with the company, secretary to one of the lesser executives, a Mister John Arbeit whose office was located on the top floor of the building, kept her from contact with the other employees except by phone.
She tried listening to see if she could link a voice to a face, but it was of no use. There were just too many voices all blending into a singular drone. Thus, making her way to a corner table, she took a seat and mused again over why she was here in the first place.
Reply by Christine on October 11, 2012 at 9:18am
My, wasn’t it warm in here. Miss Belanger caught herself laughing a dirty little laugh and it appeared that this was a suitable response. She smiled with heavily lidded eyes as the soothing tones of her new friend’s continuing anecdote lulled her deeper into a languorous stupor. A tray of canapés was drifting nearer and she felt her sense returning, telling her to eat something at once. Cautiously, but with conviction, Belanger attempted to get at the nibbles. Oh, the horror! Biscuit-y towers with things trapped in aspic. My God, was that a tentacle in there? This wasn’t going well at all. Food was the sensible option, but she no longer wanted it. Ever. Again. She felt a bit green now and knew she needed to get out on deck for some fresh air. “. . .so very amusing! Now, if you will excuse me. . .”
Reply by Four Candles on October 11, 2012 at 10:05am
New company nurse, Penelope Wood, hated crowds. In spite of the rain she was enjoying being out on deck, at least until she decided to count the lifeboats. “Well”, she thought, “at least I can swim, and at a pinch make a buoyancy aid out of a pair of pyjama bottoms”.
Reply by Professor Extreme ! on October 11, 2012 at 10:31am
A slow rumble started as the Feicia’s engines groaned into life, followed shortly by the clanking sound of the gang planks chains being hauled in. A slight scraping noise followed as the Felicia wallowed out away from the quay and into the harbour. Professor Extreme looked at his watch, 15:00 exactly. He heard the call for the show and dismissed it, Time to find out exactly who or what is behind this, he thought, as he made his way down a panelled corridor towards the bridge.
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 11, 2012 at 11:01am
Always a sucker for the dulcet tones of the banjo, Robert Grey stood and listened to the musical stylings of the ship crew trio for a few minutes with a slight smile on his face. He was just about to take a sip from his champagne glass when the ship jerked into motion, causing Robert to over-tip his glass, spilling his drink onto his lapels. Robert frowned and cast about for something to sop up the liquid with. Did you use white wine to get out champagne? Wasn’t champagne basically just carbonated white wine, what did you use to get out white wine? Finding a discarded cocktail napkin, Robert wiped up the worst of it, stuck the napkin in the champagne glass and abandoned the glass in a potted plant conveniently placed within arm’s reach. When he looked up again, the minstrels had gone, along with the other guests sitting at the neighboring chairs. Wasn’t there something about a buffet table or show or something? Completely turned around and disorientated, Robert picked a hallway at random and headed off in search of the main festivities . . .
Reply by Ronin on October 11, 2012 at 11:37am
controller: as the HMS Felicia slowy departs the docks a voice over the PA system annouces their departure and welcomes the guests aboard. dinner will begin shortly and all are encouraged to help themselves to the “plentiful bounty of drinks and delights now being set up in the main dining area on the upper deck”, continuing on with “our esteemed host thanks you kindly for your attendance and will be joining you shortly, after which, brandy and cigars will be provided in the lounge just forward of the main bridge”
Reply by Ronin on October 11, 2012 at 3:07pm
controller: as the ship slips slowly out of the harbour into the open sea ahead, the HMS Felicia slides quietly into the clouded setting sun, the fog and misting rain laying across the waters like a soft, inviting blanket
Reply by Madame Genevieve Grey on October 11, 2012 at 10:34pm
Oh good heavens! Just in the nick of time… Ms Grey stumbled on the ropes as the crew tied up the anchors and set off. The last person aboard and not too happy about it! Genevieve had been in her robe, sipping chamomile tea when the car had arrived for her. “What? But it’s not even near the time the invitation said?” Turns out this 24 hour clock stuff people had been taking to using recently wasn’t really agreeing with Genevieve. She tried to get ready as quickly as she could, but it had all been rather last minute, why, she was even having to wear last season’s dress! Well, at least she made it, now to see what it was all about…
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 11, 2012 at 10:48pm
Blast it all to blazes! Robert thought to himself. Despite his best intentions, he seemed to be sinking into a more profound state of lost with every passing minute spent traipsing through these passageways. Just how blasted big was this ship anyway? And another thing, would it have killed ‘them’ to post ‘you are here’ maps at regular intervals? Wait, what was that doorway at the end of the hallway? ‘Crew only’, that sounded promising. With that thought in mind, Robert boldly turned the door handle and pushed through the door . . . And found himself standing on a stage, approximately 400 pairs of eyes turned in Robert’s direction in almost perfect unison, keen to see what tonight’s entertainment would entail . . .
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on October 11, 2012 at 11:08pm
“Was it something I said?”, I quipped watching her head outside. Well nothing risked, nothing gained I mutter as I give chase and follow her through the press of close bodies and cloying perfumes. My former boss at the Darlington Post would be giving me hell for chasing after a skirt, no matter how lovely. He gets to bugger off now and I get to follow “the Major’s” advice. Win, win as far as I’m concerned.
Reply by Professor Extreme ! on October 12, 2012 at 7:46am
Ronin, how do we handle conversations with NPC’s (Non Player Characters). E.g. If I ask one of the crew a question ?
Reply by Ronin on October 12, 2012 at 11:50am
OOC: you totally go for it. feel free to write in dialogue with any NPC characters you might feel the need to interact with. be careful with your Q&A’s however, as specifics tend to lock things in for the duration. like stating a year, or place.
keeping that sort of thing as gray and non-specific as possible allows other folks to swim around in the scenario without running into anything too rigid or outright contradicting what has been said before. however, even in that case, one of the two NPC’s could have been lying or mistaken.
if its to be an extended exchange, maybe break it up over a couple of posts, or even several if its key to your characters experience and story. otherwise id recommmend nothing too overly complex. save those for each other.
everyone please keep this in mind
you folks are actually writing this story. Im just tossing in a few environmental pieces here and there for the most part. I’ll surely throw a curve or two in there as it goes on, but the stories (vs a single story) are of your making, be it love stories, dime store detective, mystery, horror or even comedy. (maybe even all of the above).
as long as no one tries to take over (I would hate to have to kill one of you off. heh 🙂 ) and leaves room for everyone to move around as they wish , have some fun with it.
Reply by Christine on October 12, 2012 at 2:05pm
After some brief confusion on her part, “Penelope would what, dear?”, Miss Belanger had made the acquaintance of NurseWood. The latter had graciously provided some pain medicine meant to stave off the ache in Christabel’s head and with more than a trace of concern, urged her to stay alert for rest of the evening. Between the sobering thoughts and gloomy atmosphere on deck, she did feel less tipsy and now she was curious. Before she could ask the nurse any more questions, Belanger registered that Tennessee had joined them and made the introductions. “Tennessee, what do you say, care to lead two ladies in to dinner?”
Reply by Ronin on October 12, 2012 at 4:19pm
controller: the electic lights hung about the exterior of the ship reflected off of the blanket of mist in a yellowish haze. the sunset having long ago evaporated from view and fog now completely surrounding the ship, blotting out the stars as the harbour lights dimmed and then vanished in the ships churning wake. the air felt oppressively, sickeningly thick, the sounds of the ship cutting ahead through the eerily still seas muffled in its weight. a bell buoy ringing in the distance sounded to be all around the vessel as its mournful song floated along on the damp night air like wraiths on the wing
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 12, 2012 at 6:06pm
Robert felt sweat trickle down the small of his back as the audience waited, someone coughed, and Robert feeling the pressure to say something, anything, opened his mouth only to have his voice fail him. Robert cleared his throat and tried again, saying the first thing that came to mind – “a left size 11 shoe has been found, if it’s yours, please check with the hat check girl. Thank you.” The interuption over, people started to lose interest and return to their previous conversations. As people here and there began to wander out of the room a voice from offstage hissed at Robert “what are you doing? The orchestra needs to set up, get off the stage!” They don’t need to tell me twice, Robert thought to himself as he looked for the quickest way down . . .
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on October 13, 2012 at 2:40am
“I’d be most delighted to escort two such lovely ladies to the buffet,” I said, taking both their hands and purposefully, yet gently, guiding them back to the Main Room. Appearances not to the contrary, the wondrous smells coming from the buffet plus the lovely dishes on my arms promised this cruise to be at least as profitable as hoped.
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 15, 2012 at 12:21pm
Robert descended the stage stairs, loosened his tie and thought to himself – ‘I need a drink.’ As he bellied up to the bar, the sounds of the orchestra tuning up could be heard faintly over the ambient crowd noise and the sounds of the ships engines. He ordered three fingers of Scotch, neat. As he was about to take a sip, the electric lights dimmed off and on, flickered, went out completely just long enough for one particularly effeminate male guest to scream in a particularly high pitched fashion before coming back on again as normal. The crowd looked about in surprise at the interruption, but the general amusement at the scream of the now terminally embarrassed patron served to dispel any potential anxiousness. Robert shook his head and wondered to himself, not for the first time, why they ever did away with gas lamps. His musings were interrupted when a short, uniformed crew member tapped him on the shoulder and interjected –“Mr. Robert Grey, I presume? A for you sir,” handed Robert a plain, unmarked manila envelope, turned sharply on his heel and left. Robert scratched his head and inspected the envelope . . .
Reply by Sparrow on October 15, 2012 at 3:26pm
Claire was painfully shy amongst strangers. Even when a conversation by another was initiated, Claire would, more often than not, blurt out something peculiar, at which point the exchange generally ended abruptly by either one or the other excusing themselves. She knew from childhood that she was odd. There were those periodic episodes, flashes of events would unfold within her mind as if in a dream awake, that she would then read about in the following day’s newspaper; people she would see which no others could. “Absence Seizures and simply an imaginative, lonely child’s invisible friends” was the prognosis given to her concerned parents, followed by “don’t worry, she’ll outgrow them.” Claire was now 28, yet they continued. The medication prescribed helped, as long as she took it before they started, which was sometimes difficult to even determine. And so, in time she became withdrawn from society, keeping mostly to herself, interacting with others only out of necessity. Not that she didn’t long for companionship, she just never seemed to fit in. She was uncomfortable in her own skin.
Brushing back her long, auburn hair, then adjusting the glasses which covered her moss green eyes, Claire rose from the chair in which she had been sitting, straightened her skirt and went to find the main dining hall, although the hunger she felt could never be sated by food.
Reply by Four Candles on October 15, 2012 at 4:30pm
Funny how a couple of breath mints and the damp air sobered that Belanger woman up. Two laxatives would have been funnier still. In the buffet line Penelope came across a sharp knife and a carving fork, which she was concealing under her dinner plate.
Reply by Ronin on October 15, 2012 at 5:55pm
controller: the engine room aboard the HMS Felicia was slowly filling with smoke and the smell of burned wiring. the sound of electrical arcing occasionally interupted the chief engineer and first mate boisterously arguing over who caused what and where it could be. the flickering lights and momentary blackout had instantly brought on a panicked call from the bridge with varying levels of threats, warnings and shouting over the com system, interspersed with the occasional ‘yessir’ from the stammering chief engineer.
the chief, now finally off coms with the bridge turned abruptly to give the first mate another ‘what for’ found himself yelling into a now empty room, the swirling smoke that had been choking the air from him now gone…
…as was the first mate
Reply by Christine on October 15, 2012 at 7:59pm
Miss Belanger was sipping her coffee and gathering her thoughts. Nurse Wood was a cutlery klepto, for starters. While it was astonishing, Belanger found herself picking up a spoon to be helpful. The nurse responded with a series of terse, barely perceptible facial expressions, which Belanger took as an “I am not stealing the silver for kicks I am making sure I can defend myself” sort-of-thing. When in Rome, she thought, and draped her napkin over a blade with a sturdy handle. Her train of thought was derailed by that awkward-ness on stage, then the lights, the shriek and some mysterious commotion from the crew, but she kept zeroing in on what was puzzling her most. “How strange, “ she muttered. Aloud. Eyes were looking at her expectantly. What the heck, “I find it odd that the CEO’s ship is called the ‘HMS’ Felicia. How can it be a privately owned ship with a royal navy designation? Have you seen naval officers aboard? Is the boss just that eccentric or is it possible that he is a member of some royal family?”, she blurted.
Reply by Madame Genevieve Grey on October 15, 2012 at 9:19pm
A couple of glasses of champagne seemed to do the trick nicely, it was really for the stress of rushing so, really. If the waiter looked at her a little oddly when she took both glasses at once, well, she’d been to these events before, waiters were like buses. Not a one to be seen for hours then one comes along and splashes you with a puddle… or something like that. Oh, there’s the nice fellow now, perhaps just one more to clear the head…
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on October 15, 2012 at 9:47pm
Standing near the ladies and the smells of the seafood quickly turning, I’m feeling a bit unwell myself now. Strange that…usually don’t go in for that kind of thing. Looking up from my bout of nausea and glancing about for a convenient “receptacle” I go into a lurch and hit the mat like Jersey Joe in the thirteenth. “Check please….”
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 16, 2012 at 12:52pm
It appeared to be a plain envelope, with no return address or addressee. Robert looked around the room but the diminutive messenger had vanished from view. Robert shrugged to himself and ripped one end of the envelope open and felt inside. It contained a folded up piece of writing paper, Robert pulled it out, laid the envelope on the bar and unfolded the piece of paper and saw . . . nothing, there was no writing or markings of any kind. Robert turned the paper over and saw the same blankness on the other side. Robert frowned, laid down the paper, picked up the envelope, blew inside of it and peered inside. Something slid out of the envelope and down onto the floor. Robert grumbled to himself and got down on his hands and knees and cast about for the contents of the envelope. There, under one of the bar stools, Robert saw a key, Aha! Robert thought to himself and crawled forward and grabbed the key. “I beg your pardon” came the indignant voice of the stool’s current occupant . . .
Reply by Madame Genevieve Grey on October 16, 2012 at 6:45pm
See, just what the doctor ordered! My head feels much better and I believe there is some entertainment in the other room. Wandering the deck to find the other room, I happened upon and smaller bar, there were a few people whispering in corners but no one seemed to care whenI went up to the bar. Hmmm, maybe just a little Harvey Wallbanger, that would go down nicely! There are some canapés here too, why that’s practically a meal! Yummmm
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 16, 2012 at 6:46pm
“Oh, a thousand apologies, I, er, dropped my um . . . peanut! Ah there it is now,” Robert grabbed an errant peanut from off the floor that had obviously rolled off the bar, and popped it in his mouth. The woman on the stool grimaced in distaste. A commotion over by the buffet caught Robert’s attention, as one of the guests lurched about and then tipped face first into the buffet table, “if you’ll excuse me. Man down!” Robert quickly pocketed the key, stood up and rushed over to the prone figure, “stand back, stand back, give him some air!” Robert got down on his knees, rolled the gentleman over, wiped cocktail sauce and the odd shrimp off the man’s face with a proffered linen napkin, only then did Robert abruptly remember he didn’t actually have any medical training. Looking sheepishly at the circle of faces surrounding them, Robert asked “is there a doctor in the house?”
Reply by Ronin on October 18, 2012 at 12:27pm
controller: a crowd gathers around the downed guest, a murmur of concern buzzing about the room.
meanwhile, the chief engineer stands in the engine room scratching his head, confounded by his assistants disappearance.
“where did that blasted boy go? he knows better than to leave his post when we’re at sea”
Reply by Sparrow on October 18, 2012 at 2:42pm
When Claire entered the dining hall, a crowd was gathered near one of the buffet tables. “What has happened?” she asked one of the male catering staff. “Someone has passed out” he responded, in a very casual, unconcerned tone which Claire found rather disconcerting. Against her better judgement, she inched her way through the mass of whispering passengers when she heard someone call out “Is there a doctor in the house?” Upon reaching the center of the attention gathered, lying unconscious on the floor was someone she recognized seeing in the company elevator several times. He generally made her feel uncomfortable, but then who didn’t. “Maybe we should back away, and give him some air?” she offered. “Has his vital signs been checked, his pulse and airways?” she inquired of the man kneeling to the right of the prone one. It was then the sickening smell of vomit and seafood reached her nostrils, and grasping her stomach dashed off to find the nearest loo.
Reply by Professor Extreme ! on October 18, 2012 at 5:55pm
The door to the bridge swung open as the ship rolled. Prof Extreme walked through the door, expecting to be accosted at any minute. The Bridge was empty, that is assuming this was the bridge, Professor Extreme was unsure.
It was not like any ships bridge the prof had ever seen. Of course the Prof was no expert, In fact he could count the number of bridges he had seen on the toes of one hand. But he had seen pictures.
Bridges should have spoked wheels and handles that go “ding!” and speaking tubes, everyone knew that.
Obviously no one had told the designers of the HMS Felica. Strange small leavers and typewriter like rows of buttons. and the illuminated windows, all looked very out of place.
There was another niggling thing vying for attention in the prof’s overloaded brain. Why did all of the illuminated windows say EVACUATE!
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 19, 2012 at 8:02pm
“Vital signs? What, like what month he was born in? How is that relevant?” Robert looked over his shoulder, the redhead seemed to have disappeared “well that’s just plain rude,” Robert grumbled to himself as he considered how exactly to check ‘pulse and airways’ . . . “does anybody have a harmonica?”
Reply by Four Candles on October 20, 2012 at 2:25pm
Doctors. They always call for doctors and they always give the doctors all the credit, but Penelope knew who really did the work. With a deep sigh she abandoned her pudding, put on her most official manner, and marched off to see the patient, medical bag in hand. Her sharp look made onlookers move out of her way, continue moving back, and ultimately got them to find somewhere else to be. She pointedly told some uniformed ship staff to attend the business of cleaning up. Tennessee’s palms felt clammy and his blood pressure was low. “Right, Chaps, grab his arms and legs.” Best thing was to get him onto a quiet sofa somewhere so he could rest. Nurse Wood covered the patient with a blanket, left him some anti-nausea tabs and a glass of water. A bucket was provided by one of the kitchen staff. If you got the look right, thought Penelope, people will anticipate what you need.
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on October 21, 2012 at 9:36pm
: So I’m not ‘dead’ yet, but seemingly too comfy to shift myself, except that gnawing feeling of a suddenly empty stomach. I knew the seafood would give me a bit of a turn, but I just love shrimp canapes.: “Ohhhh, leave off”, I blurt out, then wondering where and what was going on and realizing it was probably the sharp dressed lad in the suddenly soiled suit, I leave off myself and accept the ministrations of all concerned. Being carried to the a sofa in another room was making me nauseous again. “Maybe a bit of a nightcap for the suddenly soiled one,” I ask of one of the fellas who carried me into the room.
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 22, 2012 at 11:39am
“Right you are, one medicinal brandy coming right up,” with that Robert left the room and once again found himself turned around and unsure where he was headed. “This blasted ship is so darn confusing . . .“ Robert thought to himself and pushed through the nearest door. He found himself on the currently deserted Promenade deck, wait was that someone at the other end? Maybe they could direct him back to the bar . . .
Reply by Ezra Yesterday on October 22, 2012 at 12:25pm
<So much for finding the exits,> Chuck thought, <now if I could only find my way back to the main lounge.> He was tired of trudging up and down these stairs; it was time to pick a deck and stay there until he met someone. He took the next landing, the Promenade deck according to the brass plaque on the bulkhead, ducked under the hatch and looked around… Ah_Ha, this was more like it; perhaps the chap heading his way could point him in the direction of a cold, refreshing beverage…
Reply by Madame Genevieve Grey on October 22, 2012 at 12:50pm
“really, you dpon’t knooo ehnnneeee udder coooktahhhls?” it appeared my voice wasn’t quite doing as my brain was directing it to do. Only two choices left then, I either keep drinking and have a little rest over on that nice soft chaise longue or I gather myself and head out for some fresh air. Well, whilst I decide that I may as well have one more for the road. It is free after all! “vodka” ahh, well that was better! He seemed to understand that one fine.
Reply by Ronin on October 22, 2012 at 1:31pm
controller: with a noticable flicker of the lights and a baritone “whump!” followed by a sudden silence, the Felica began to slow its progress through the fog, eventually gliding to a stop in the pitch black waters
Reply by Ezra Yesterday on October 22, 2012 at 1:46pm
OOC Question: Just to clarify the rule about posting back to back, does the Controller post count as different, or must there be another character post before you go again?
Reply by Madame Genevieve Grey on October 22, 2012 at 1:48pm
OOC Reply: I made a drunken post Ezra (my character, not me of course, you understand) so you’re good to go! 🙂
Reply by Ezra Yesterday on October 22, 2012 at 1:56pm
OOC: I actually was just curious about the rule in general, it occurred to me when I saw your post , MGG…I didn’t actually have another post in mind just yet.
Reply by Madame Genevieve Grey on October 22, 2012 at 2:02pm
OCC: Aha! 😉
Reply by Ronin on October 22, 2012 at 2:43pm
OOC:yes. if you post and the controller pops in with something, that counts as another post.
the ‘rules’ are there just to sort of keep it rolling along and give everyone incentive to add something, regardless of its brevity. if perchance or for a good reason you have to/really want to post back to back, its not like I’ll be deleting it because you did. I wouldnt however stick 3 or 4 of them in a row out here.
Reply by Sparrow on October 22, 2012 at 2:53pm
Clutching one hand to her stomach and the other to her mouth, Claire made her way to the outer deck. “Not the loo, but any port in a storm” she thought, rushing over to the rail. She wretched but once, then, taking several deep, calming breaths of the salty air, the urge to expel her stomach contents passed. As she stood composing herself, she concentrated her thoughts on the rhythmic sound of the waves as they lapped against the hull to the gently undulating rise and fall of the ship atop this body of water. Then it began. The ringing in her ears was always prelude to what was to come. Claire fumbled in her clutch purse for her medication but it was too late.
From out of the darkness there appeared some human-esque form standing a few meters in front of her. It was dropping another struggling form overboard and as it did, it turned as if it knew someone was watching. Claire could almost feel the intensity of it’s empty eye-sockets, like two black holes drawing in all that surrounded it until the entire scene was consumed.
Claire remained transfixed as the waves continued to caress the HMS Felicia.
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 22, 2012 at 3:38pm
As Robert headed up the Promenade, the figure at the other end turned, apparently noticed him and started to head in Robert’s direction. “Ah, a bit of a coincidence, that,” Robert thought to himself. The eerie emptiness of the long enclosed space suddenly became all too apparent to Robert and a brief chill ran down his spine. Slowly but determinedly, Robert veered to the other side of the deck, the approaching figure changed course too. Yes, the other figure appeared to be headed straight for Robert. Robert moved back to the other side, the other figure did the same, apparently intent on intercepting him. “Could be any number of reasons, no reason to assume anything sinister,“ Robert thought to himself, and nervously reached up and scratched his head. Did other figure just scratch his own head? Robert was getting seriously spooked now. Robert put his hands in his pockets, so did the other figure. Robert rubbed his chin, so did the other person. “Okay, someone’s playing a game of ‘silly buggers’ here. Suddenly the lights flickered again. Robert stopped short, the other person continued to approach. Robert had had enough; he panicked and quickly dove into the closest door, there on his right . . .
Reply by Professor Extreme ! on October 22, 2012 at 5:27pm
Hearing the ship come to a Wumping halt, shook Prof Extreme to his senses. Someone aught to take charge here. He pulled himself up to his full height, straightened his back and marched out of the bridge and back down the corridor.
On his way he was forced to steer around some drunk blithering idiot, but after a couple of left-rights he navigated his way into the Lounge. Surprisingly, not much had changed, there were sill people dancing, drinking and listening to the band. Prof X climbed up on the stage and with a wave of his hand he silenced the band.
“Ladies and Gentleman”, he shouted. “The HMS Felicia has run aground, It is suggesting we evacuate. There is no captain and no Officers aboard, that I can find, so I’m taking charge.. Abandon Ship!”.
Then the band restarted, and after a couple of giggles from the masses, the dancing returned…
So much for taking charge, Prof X thought, and strolled out onto the deck..
Reply by Ezra Yesterday on October 22, 2012 at 9:08pm
As Chuck walked toward the other passenger, the other made his way toward Chuck; in fact, there was something odd about the way the other moved the closer they got to each other. It was getting really creepy, in fact, the way the other seemed to do everything Chuck did, like some sort of middle school kid, copying everything he did. Just as they got close enough so the odd stranger’s features were becoming clear, the lights went out again and the ship gave a low, entirely non reassuring sound, and the slight lurch flung Chuck forward. There was a painful collision and the sound of breaking glass… And Chuck sat down hard, at the foot of a now broken, full length wall of mercury silvered glass.
Reply by Ronin on October 23, 2012 at 1:34pm
controller: the fog engulfed the still motionless ship in a seemingly solid blanket of black in every direction. appearing almost alive, it now creeped in through even the smallest crack and crevice of the ship, filling every room, deck and hallways with an eerie yellowish grey haze.
the dozens of partygoers, only moments before cheerily carrying on was now a buzz with voices on the very edge of panic as the fog rolled in from all around. the thick grey yellow cloud was spilling in from windows and vents, doorways and hatches, rapidly filling the room from floor to ceiling in moments.
suddenly, with a momentary flicker and near blinding flash the entire ship fell deeply black.
for what felt to be an eternity, only the deepest suffocating pitch black could be seen. no motion, no sound. nothing for the mind or senses to grasp.
slowly, quietly, the electric lights aboard the ship begun to glow once again. a slight hum could be heard ever so faintly as the power began once again coursing through the filaments. as the lights came slowly back on, the fog had seemingly vanished from the interior of the ship.
surprisingly, so have most of the passengers.
you however, seem to be somehow still aboard with no recollection of anything but silent darkness from the last moments you saw the lights flicker out.
Reply by Ezra Yesterday on October 23, 2012 at 2:54pm
Just as he was about to stand up, hand still to his bruised forehead, a thick fog came streaming in from every direction through the slightly open windows, under the doors, through the emergency boat access hatch, down from the air ducts above his head and rolling in a huge yellow cottony mass down the main walkway toward him. It came pouring in from literally every direction, including from the newly made cracks in the broken mirror half a foot in front of his face. Then… Darkness; silence; a cold clammy wind that seemed to swirl about him and then die. He was never sure exactly how long he sat, dazed and blind in the oppressive, unnatural dark, but eventually the lights came back, slowly. When they did, the disturbing yellow fog was gone. Or to be precise, it was gone everywhere except in the mirror, where the fog still swirled, the entire expanse of mirror a sickly, glowing yellow; and the figure within, an odd, fractured reflection of Chuck, moved and stood, despite the fact that Chuck still sat in frozen horror on the floor. Frozen, that is, until the figure reached up, put its hand through one of the cracks in the glass and broke off the shard, making the hole a few inches wider. That’s when Chuck got up and ran.
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 23, 2012 at 4:06pm
OOC: show off . . .
Reply by Sparrow on October 23, 2012 at 5:14pm
Claire, unaware that something strange aboard ship had just occurred, remained catatonic for a few moments more as the vision passed. She felt the searing pain in her head which signaled it’s aftermath. It would be pointless to tell anyone what she had just witnessed, for she knew from past experience no one would believe her and the last thing she wanted was to cause rumours to circulate through the company that she was some sort of ‘psychic psycho’ resulting in either her losing this job, or feeling forced to leave. It had happened before when trying to warn a previous boss of a burglary that would cost him his life. He just laughed it off and told her she watched too many cop shows. Luckily for her, no one else overheard or she may have been held suspect in a murder trial. Why would no one at least take precautions when warned? Since that time she hesitated to disclose another’s fate, even though it made her wonder if it were the right thing to do. Would it make her responsible for the outcome, or was it their destiny regardless? Anyway, this time things would be different, she would make sure of it, even if it meant defying the fates themselves….but as for now, she would find her way back to the dining room and drink herself into oblivion.
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 24, 2012 at 12:00pm
Robert found himself prone at the top of an enclosed stairwell, unsure of how he got there. He had been looking for . . . something . . . or had he been . . . running from something? He was finding it difficult to think coherently, every time he came close to putting his finger on a thought, it would wiggle away back into the shadows. How much had he had to drink? There was something about a glass of Scotch he had never finished because someone had . . . what was it, fallen, passed out, died? This was ridiculous, he needed to get up and get a glass of water, try to clear his head. Robert grabbed onto the railing and pulled himself upright. Wow, he thought as stars filled his vision, I must have hit my head, why is everything suddenly so . . . garish?
Reply by Professor Extreme ! on October 24, 2012 at 12:35pm
Prof Extreme looked over the rail of the deck, and out in to the mist. I always try to do the right thing, but no one ever listens he thought. Never mind, their loss. His mind wandered for a while, as he stared, the mist was sucked up, what worried the professor was that it was the ship that appeared to be doing the sucking. This is not right, not right at all. He stared back over the concrete and watched the waves travel into the distance. His mind just didn’t seam to focus.. Something wrong.. Waves on concrete.. He took a steady slow breath, pulled himself together and took another look over the misty sea. No must have imagined it.. He turned and headed off back to the lounge, followed closely by a vague yellowy shadow.
Reply by Sparrow on October 24, 2012 at 5:00pm
As the saying goes, misery loves company and Claire meant to find her company in a bottle of the best liquor she could find aboard this floating garbage scow he called a yacht. “The Felicia” she mouthed with bitter contempt. Reaching her destination, she circled around the tables and going behind the untended bar, pressed a hidden switch, the cabinet beneath slid open to reveal twelve dust covered bottles. Opening a bottle labeled 1943 ‘Matheson’ Dalmore Malt Scotch, she tossed a few ice cubes in a short, tulip-shaped glass, filled it halfway, downed it in almost a single swallow, then poured herself another. Moving back round to an empty stool, she sat, placing her right elbow on the bar’s surface, her chin cupped in her upturned palm. Running the index finger of her left hand, she circumnavigated the rim of the glass before her, then sighed deeply. “This place is total boredom” she breathed, and continued now to sip her drink and wonder why she had not yet become oblivious.
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 24, 2012 at 5:39pm
Robert stumbled down to the bottom of the stairs. He was sure of it, as sure as good ole blind King George V sat on the throne, Robert was stone cold sober, that’s what he was. If what remained of Robert’s memory still served, he hadn’t actually had a drop all night, despite his best intentions to the contrary. Robert pulled out his pocket watch and peered with bleary eyes at the hands. Goodness me, Robert thought astounded, it was a quarter past May in the morning!
Reply by Ronin on October 25, 2012 at 1:28pm
controller: the silence surrounding the upper decks of the ship was nearly deafening, broken only occasionally by the squeaking of empty lifeboat racks and pulleys swaying in time with the gentle rocking of the ship as it drifted aimlessly in the inky blackness
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 25, 2012 at 1:34pm
Wait a second, that couldn’t be right. Robert shook his pocket watch and looked again. Both the hour and the minute hands were slowly ticking backwards. They stopped, and then started to go forwards again. Stopped, and now were spinning in opposite directions at ever increasing speed. Feeling increasingly unsettled, Robert screwed his eyes shut, opened his left eye slightly and looked at the watch again. The hands were spinning so fast they were now a blur. Robert quickly shut the lid, put the watch back in his inside jacket pocket, and took his hand quickly away as if the watch was on fire. What in blasted blue blazes was going on here! With that he reached for the door handle of the door only to find he was back at the top of the stairs he was sure he had just come down . . .
Reply by Christine on October 25, 2012 at 5:51pm
What the devil was going on? Any questions Belanger had asked about the mysterious ship were met with amusement and indifference. It were as if people thought she was mucking about. It made her want to kick somebody. A man took to the stage and tried to raise an alarm to evacuate ship and got an even worse reception. Don’t bother, chap, they think we’re the entertainment. Then things got really weird. After the lights came back on she was alone. Belanger had never felt so exceptionally vulnerable. Singled out. “I don’t want to be the entertainment.”
Reply by Four Candles on October 25, 2012 at 6:04pm
Nurse Wood made her way to the bridge and found the tannoy. “Where is everyone? There is no one manning this ship, there are no lifeboats, . . . if there is anyone else on board this ship, if you can hear me, follow the stairs going up and come meet me. Arm yourselves.”
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 25, 2012 at 11:36pm
Robert slowly made his way down the steps, his eyes stretched as wide open as he could possibly make them. According to his running tally, this was now the 17th time he had attempted to descend these stairs. But inexplicably, regardless of how far he got each time, if he made the mistake of closing his eyes even for an instant, he found himself at the top of the stairs. Just last time Robert had made it as far as his hand on the door handle of the door at the bottom of the stair when he blinked and he found himself at the top of the stairs yet again. A normal person would have given up long before, but Robert was anything other than normal. Slowly, Robert took one step after the other, his eyes burned, tears streamed down his cheeks, his eyes started to twitch from the strain but he continued downward, his eyes wide open. Only three steps to go, his hopes started to rise, this could be it, but just then Robert’s nose started to itch, he tried to ignore it, the itching grew more insistent. Knowing what was coming Robert leaped for the door as his foot left the last step, he sneezed . . . and everybody knows it’s impossible to sneeze without closing your eyes . . .
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on October 26, 2012 at 1:42am
After what seemed an inordinate amount of time waiting for someone to pop through the door with a look of concern for my well being, I decided to give it the college try and stood up. ‘Ok, college try 0, nausea and gravity 1’ I think to myself as I hit the floor yet again. Really must learn to not move so quickly next time, whenever that’ll be. Maybe I’ll give it a secondary or grammar school try and cry for my mommy.Oh, goody, a bucket.
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 26, 2012 at 9:14am
. . . and found himself somewhere else. Robert dug in his pocket for a handkerchief, blew his nose, looked at the handkerchief with distaste and reluctantly tucked it back in his pocket. How had he gotten here? It appeared to be crew quarters of some sort, presumably still on the Felicia. Although at this point Robert was willing to credit just about any possibility. Robert nearly jumped out of his skin when a cadaverous looking figure swung around a corner in the half light and shouted into Robert’s face “Aye, dat’s da cap’n done fer da noo! We be da last alive! Da sickness has turned dem all to corpses! Doomed we are! Doomed, I tells ya, doooommmmeeeed!” The ghastly apparition was reaching towards Robert with grasping, skeletal like hands. Robert backed quickly away till he was back up against the wall and still the figure reached towards him, prophesying their demise. The figure was now so close Robert could feel his fetid breath on his face, Robert felt a scream welling up inside of him, he tried battering his assailant’s hands away and . . . sneezed . . .
Reply by Ezra Yesterday on October 26, 2012 at 12:51pm
Chuck was in a nightmare… He had to be. He had been running as hard and as fast as he could for over 30 seconds, but he was hardly moving forward at all. He kept darting terrified glances over his shoulder only to see Shatter-Chuck looking at him with a wicked grin while making slow, leisurely progress on the opening he was breaking into the glass from the other side. The odd thing was, the broken, sinister reflection man was breaking the glass away from a perfect rectangular pane of unbroken mirror, slowly chipping and shattering away an uneven, jagged parody of a door frame around the perfect door sized portal of sickly yellow/silver reflection. Chuck knew, not suspected but Knew on a deep, hind brain instinctive level, that once the door-frame was complete, the jagged man was going to come out and get him. And here he was, running at full speed yet completely at the mercy of whatever held him, like a rat in a trap, a fly in a web, a mosquito in amber… or a meal on a silver platter. Fine, he decided, as a more rational, courageous part of him woke at last, the choices are fight or flight, and flight is no longer on the table. And then without any warning, he turned, tucked his head down and covered his face with his arms as best he could and sprinted directly for the nearly complete portal. He had just time to see the shocked look on ShatterChuck’s face flash over into unholy fury before….
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 26, 2012 at 5:09pm
. . . and found himself back in the bar. “Well that was odd,” Robert thought to himself. Perhaps he needed to check in with the ship’s doctor just to make sure he wasn’t having seafood induced hallucinations. Robert shook his head once and looked about. Was he in the right place? This bar had been full of people only minutes before, now it was completely empty. It certainly looked the same, you know, minus the crowd. Robert was standing there perplexed, when he was addressed by someone from behind him “may I help you sir?” Robert turned around to see a monkey wearing a fez, sitting on the bar . . .
Reply by Sparrow on October 27, 2012 at 10:48am
As she sat, toying with her drink, the music began. She recognized it immediately. It was what had become ‘their’ song. The lights slowly started to dim, and turning towards the stage, their eyes met as if for the first time. His full attention fell ‘souly’ on her as he began to sing- “Blue moon, you saw me standing alone, without a dream in my heart….” his voice embracing her, she recalled how later he would remark their meeting happened only ‘once in a blue moon’. She felt a warm flush wash over her, whether from the drink or the memory of his touch, she knew not. She arose and walked towards his now outstretched hand which beckoned her to join him, just as he had done that night. As she reached out to take it in hers, his face grew pale and ashen, his eyes began to sink back into his skull and in doing so, she felt them drawing her in as well. Now, pulling her towards him against her will, she struggled, fighting the intense vacuum of power he held over her. The stage, bar, empty dining room were all being sucked into the gaping holes where the eyes she had once held so dear, now took her as well.
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on October 29, 2012 at 3:45pm
Having found something in the bucket I don’t remember eating, I took a moment to regroup and noticed the marconigram my uncle sent from the University had fallen from my coat pocket.
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 30, 2012 at 3:40pm
OCC: Iggy, that’s fantastic! I love the way you smeared out the year to keep people guessing . . .
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 30, 2012 at 4:01pm
This was insane, talking monkeys, with wings, wearing fezzes? It must be a hallucination, clearly only an addled brain could come up with something like tiny sentient monkeys, intent on communicating with their homo sapien cousins. Still, the thing looked amazingly . . . well, lifelike, although the sharp teeth were somewhat concerning. Feeling more than just a little foolish, Robert cleared his throat and said “um, hello? Were you er, talking to me just now?” No response. Well of course not, thought Robert to himself. Monkeys don’t have wings, don’t wear fezzes and certainly do not talk. Robert chuckled ruefully at his own gullibility, turned around and scanned the ballroom, curious where everyone had gone. Was there perhaps a presentation that everyone had gone to that Robert had been unaware of? Suddenly a tiny, decidedly toothy voice piped up from behind Robert – “Happy Hour has just started, would you like to hear our drink specials?” Robert fled the bar without looking back, head down, arms pumping for all he was worth . . .
Reply by Ezra Yesterday on October 30, 2012 at 4:22pm
…clearly only an addled brain could come up with something like tiny sentient monkeys, intent on communicating with their homo sapien cousins.
… I see how it is now…
Reply by Ezra Yesterday on October 30, 2012 at 4:53pm
Chuck felt no impact, despite the loud crash that rang in his ears, and when he opened his eyes he found himself floating in what turned out to be a thick, self luminous yellow fog. Though there was no apparent gravity, he seemed to be drifting in a generally forward direction, roughly parallel to a wall of some kind. On the wall were tarnished brass plaques of various sizes and shapes, some in languages other than English; as he drifted by, he realized that they were ships keel plates form various types and ages of ship. He read the names, a few familiar, most not: Octavious, Jenny, Caleuche, Seabird, Palatine Light, Eliza Battle, Mary Celeste and many others… But the newest, cleanest one, the last one he saw before he hit another pane of glass with a oddly subdued, distant and tinny crash… held the name of this ship, the HMS Felicia.
Reply by Forlath Grey on October 30, 2012 at 5:21pm
OOC: Hahaha, if the cerebral cortex fits . . .
Ezra Yesterday said:
… I see how it is now…
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on October 30, 2012 at 11:22pm
Robert the Grey said:
OCC: Iggy, that’s fantaOstic! I love the way you smeared out the year to keep people guessing . . .
OOC: yes, i was thinking of contacting ronin about that, but it seemed better to go that way.
Reply by Ronin on October 31, 2012 at 12:16pm
OOC: I agree. well done
Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins said:
Robert the Grey said:
OCC: Iggy, that’s fantaOstic! I love the way you smeared out the year to keep people guessing . . .
OOC: yes, i was thinking of contacting ronin about that, but it seemed better to go that way.
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on October 31, 2012 at 3:30pm
Now my head’s clearing up and I’ve emptied my stomache, I ought to see about heading to my room to wash up. The doorway in front of me seemed the best way to go and I’m already pointed that way. “Woo-hoo,” I gasp past the growing urge to heave to once again and I try to keep steady as I push through the hanging curtain (really…such a nice ship and they use such tawdry little ‘folksy’ decoration tricks) and into the hallway. “Two doors down and the next one on the port side,” I mumble wearily. “Now where’s that key?” As I reach the door I hear the flutter of wings announcing the arrival of another from the Major.
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on November 2, 2012 at 4:19pm
OOC: so now that halloween has come and gone, are we going to continue this halloween treat or move onto other things?
Reply by Ronin on November 2, 2012 at 5:05pm
OOC: thats totally up to you folks. frankly, this survived pages and pages further than I at first expected it to. you’ve all done great, followed the rules, and have posted some fantastic stuff.
I appreciate everyones participation in this little experiment. as far as any sort of continuation, Im going to let you folks decide. maybe you all want to start again with a different beginning and scenario? someone else might want to take over as controller or tweak some rules. Im good with any and all of it. Im just thrilled it got as far as it has.
so, anyone who wants to, please chime in with your thoughts. even if you didnt write anything at all, your opinion is welcome.
Reply by Sparrow on November 3, 2012 at 9:00am
Claire ‘awoke’ to find herself lying on the bed of a stateroom having no idea how she came to be there, nor, as she sat up, why she was now wearing a full length, shimmering black evening gown with open back and plunging neckline, toeless black stiletto heels, and a long, knotted string of blue-black pearls about her neck. As if this was not confusing enough, her head pulsed with a renewed pain, more so than she had last recalled….and what did she recall? She could remember very little, other than going on deck after feeling ill…wait, yes, there was a man who had collapsed, another shouting for a doctor, she inquired if anyone checked his vital signs as nausea began to overcome her and she sought fresh air. All was a blank afterwards. Now she needed something to quell the phantom vice which was slowly tightening inside her head, perhaps the nurse in the dining room would have some paracetamol.
Reply by Ronin on November 5, 2012 at 7:19pm
Controller: a sudden screaching shudder followed by what could only be described as sounding all too like the pained moan of a dying whale could be felt throughout the ship and seemed to be eminating from the engine room, deep in the bowels of the ship.
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on November 7, 2012 at 12:19am
“Sure has gotten hot.”, I state to no one in particular as I start for the head to clean up a bit. Tossing my key on the berth with my soiled clothes going in the hamper, I get the water running and notice the from my uncle peeking out of my jacket pocket. While in the shower, I run over the peculiar events of the day. My boss, the Chief Editor at the Quill and Parchment, called me into his office the day before to get an update on my progress concerning the interview I was assigned. Apparently, no one has ever heard anything definite about the reclusive CEO of Divergent World, LLC. They’d been buying up properties and starting new businesses like Divergent Tomes, Divergent Bean and Leaf, and so on. So he sent me undercover to get inside and get close enough for some info. As of this date, even the people working for him haven’t seen him. Most of the people invited to this dinner party it appears are low level ‘gobs’ just like me. “Well, at least my cover hasn’t been blown,” I speak out loud as I shut off the water, grab a towel, and head toward my berth, snatching the marconigram from my jacket as I pass it by.Looking up from the in alarm, I hear this low pitched moaning and a grinding scream emanating from somewhere beneath the floor of my cabin.
Reply by Sparrow on November 7, 2012 at 9:44am
A deep, resonant groan sounded throughout the ship, as if she were in pain. Or dread.
Upon hearing and relating to this, Claire arose from the bed and in doing so, caught a glimpse of herself in a large, ornate floor mirror against the opposite wall. How unlike her, she now appeared.
Her long hair smoothed back to a chignon at the nape of her slender neck, her nails polished a deep crimson as were her painted lips, matched black pearls adorned her earlobes. With a hint of conceit, she admired the reflection in the mirror. The image seemed so foreign, she had trouble recognizing it was actually her own, as the still throbbing sensation in her head returned her to reality. She began searching the room for the clothes she had boarded in, but to no avail, just as a shrill, mechanical squeal, like unlubricated metal upon metal, more felt than heard, bade her to worry no longer about her attire, but to find the other passengers post haste.
Reply by Forlath Grey on November 9, 2012 at 2:58pm
Robert stumbled to a stop on an upper deck and tried to catch his breath. Enough was enough, he had no idea what was going on but if it was his destiny to die this night, he would go down fighting, not cowering. Strengthened by his new resolve, he flipped over a side table and broke off one of its legs. It may not be much of a weapon, but it was a start. Just at that moment the tannoy scratched to life and a woman’s voice said something about missing lifeboats and crew and to meet her upstairs. Robert was headed for the stairs when a deep mechanical moan reverberated from deep within the ship . . .
Reply by Sparrow on November 9, 2012 at 6:46pm
Leaving the room, Claire hurried along the frigidly cold deck, clutching her arms about her for warmth, the gown she wore not offering very much in the way of elemental protection. Upon hearing the sound of footsteps coming rapidly from behind, she turned to see a man rushing towards her. She was sure he was going to knock her down, and not having enough time to move from this oncoming unavoidable collision, she braced herself for the impact. He came barreling closer, and in the time it took her to inhale and tense for the encounter, to her astonishment, he passed right through her as if she wasn’t there although she felt the breath of air in his passing. Turning once again, Claire watched as he continued his breakneck pace along the ship’s outer deck.
‘Probably simply an aural hallucination from this migraine’ she reasoned, as she continued her quest in seeking out the passengers she had boarded with and perhaps some relief for not only the pain in her head, but reassurance that this was not some nefarious nightmare.
Reply by Ezra Yesterday on November 9, 2012 at 7:07pm
Chuck felt pressure along the entire front of his body, like impact of a giant pillowcase filled with pudding. Just as it began to approach painful, both the pressure and the sickly yellow fog disappeared, as if neither one had ever really existed. He looked around, he seemed to have stepped directly out of a pane of glass onto on an upper deck; there was a man standing a few feet away, vandalizing a seemingly innocent side table. [Chuck had just had a run in with a rather nasty mirror, himself, so he wasn’t about to judge.] As the gentleman finished his work and hefted the resulting club, there was an announcement regarding lifeboats, followed by a loud, nearly organic moan from deep below decks. Both Chuck and the still oblivious anti-carpenter started for the nearby stairs, when Chuck stumbled, and looking down at the cause of his misstep, said, “I say, you haven’t happened across a mens left shoe, have you.. Size 11?”
Reply by Four Candles on November 12, 2012 at 7:38pm
I wonder if there is anyone in the engine room. I’ll ring the telegraph and try to stop the boat.
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Reply by Forlath Grey on November 13, 2012 at 1:50pm
Robert spun around at the man’s voice, table leg at the ready. After a quick glance confirming the man was neither simian, winged nor wearing a fez, Robert relaxed and replied “nope, sorry mate, all the lifeboats are gone. Here, you better take this.” With that Robert handed him his table leg and bent down to break off another . . .
Reply by Ezra Yesterday on November 13, 2012 at 2:33pm
Chuck accepted the I.B.D. [improvised bludgeoning device, 1 each] and grinned at the gusto the other showed as he bent down to finish off the mortally wounded furniture at their feet. Speaking of feet, Chuck thought, I might as well get rid of the other one, no use stumping around like John Silver if I can help it. He kicked off his remaining shoe, then leaned down to join in the destruction. “Since its ruined already, we might as well take all four. After all,” he added with a nod toward the speaker on the wall above their head, “we know there is at least one more person still aboard, and as my wise old granny, may she rest in peace, used to say ‘Waste not, Want not.” He ripped another leg off the table, then straightened and said “Oh, sorry. I guess I should have introduced myself before; Charles Winton, Accounts, Birmingham office.” He started to offer to shake, then realizing he had a club in each hand, he shrugged, gestured toward the stairway leading up and said, “Shall we?”
Reply by Forlath Grey on November 13, 2012 at 2:50pm
“Robert Grey, mail room. My friends call me ‘Postal’, they’ve never really explained why but I like to think it’s short for “Postmaster General”, you know, because I work in the mailroom . . . actually it occurs to me that’s a stupid nickname. Forget I mentioned it . . . To the Bridge!”
Reply by Four Candles on November 15, 2012 at 7:12pm
Penelope muttered to herself “Call this a cocktail party? I’ve had more fun in the sluice cleaning bed pans. If no-one arrives here soon I will have to think of a way to get off this ship. HMS indeed! I can’t imagine this ship has ever been part of any royal fleet. I wonder how long I should wait? Perhaps if I start banging on these pipes someone might bang back and at least I will know I’m not on my own”
Reply by Sparrow on November 15, 2012 at 8:04pm
As she continued along the deck brushing from her thoughts what had just occurred, Claire took note of the missing life boats, which was worrisome enough, when she suddenly realized the ship seemed to be no longer propelled, but instead floated near dormant, drifting like a dead carcass atop the waves. Looking upwards she saw light coming from a room situated just above the deck overhead, and silhouetted in one of it’s windows was what appeared to be the form of a woman. ‘Thank the heavens, I hope this is not merely another illusion’ she said aloud as she made her way to the stairs.
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on November 15, 2012 at 11:59pm
Figuring I should probably get dressed before finding out what happened, (never again, will anything like the Hylton incident happen) I pop on some clean ‘togs’ and head out into the hall. Checking to make sure my ‘lucky’ rabbit’s foot key chain is in my front right-hand trousers pocket, I trot down to the end of the hallway and a cross-hall. “Hmmm…port-side,’ I mull over, “…or starboard.” Allowing my nose and my most recent experience with bad seafood and cheap liquor decide for me, I head down the port-side and away from the smells emanating from the dining-hall. “Maybe I can find some unspoilt food in the galley, if ever I find it,” passes from my lips.
Reply by Ronin on November 16, 2012 at 6:27pm
controller: a churning thick yellow soup of gaseous muck lay bubbling along the engine room floor making the entire lower portion appear to be a 6 foot deep swimming pool of yellow custard, with the occasional tendril snaking up and about the light fixtures, piping and chainwork.
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on November 20, 2012 at 1:42am
Having had one of the worst experiences yet in my admittedly short life, (things are usually turning up roses for me) I’ve come to the conclusion that maybe I’m not really suited to this sort of thing. Time to find myself a lifeboat and whoever else might be left aboard. First that galley and a quick refill. After a short walk down a long hallway, I start hearing what sounds like people coming up from around the corner.
Reply by Forlath Grey on November 20, 2012 at 4:16pm
Robert took the stairs up to the next deck two a time, a table leg in both hands ready for any eventuality. As he crested the top step, he saw a person shaped shadow on the floor ahead, cast by someone or something from around the corner. Robert hissed over his shoulder “battle stations Charles Winton, Accounts, Birmingham office, there’s something up ahead!”
Reply by Sparrow on November 28, 2012 at 9:38am
Although the rain itself had ceased hours ago, a heavy mist still clung to the air. Looking out over the stillness of a disquieting motionless calm, Claire could no longer see any delineation of sea and sky. Instead, something dark and menacing replaced the horizon and seemed to be moving rapidly towards the ship. It would descend upon her soon enough. Claire shivered, whether from the chill in the air or ever-mounting fear, she quickened her pace. Hastening up the first flight of stairs, the clicking of her heels on the metal treads echoed from behind as if she were not alone in her ascent, causing her to move all the more rapidly. Up ahead was the last flight. A flight that would take her, she hoped, to safety.
Reply by Maj. Bastable “Iggy” Fitzwiggins on November 29, 2012 at 8:58pm
From my inside coat pocket, I pull the slapjack I’m never without since moving to The City. Taking a large stride around the corner, I put all my faith in the belief that ‘fight or flight’ will pull me out of any trouble I might run into. “Woah! Hey there…hold on a moment..,” I gasp out as I nearly collide with a man holding two table legs in a threatening manner.
Reply by Sparrow on December 2, 2012 at 10:33am
Claire started to feel ill. The pain in her head reached it’s crescendo, and she felt as if she were going pass out. As the world began to spin and grow dark, she began to cry…..the tears washed down Felicia’s face. He told her they were through. She could not go on without him. Going to the rail, she climbed upon it, teetered there for a few moments….Claire turned her head as she heard a voice from behind screaming something but she just couldn’t quite make it out over the sound of ringing in her ears that was building, as all continued to spin, she was losing her sense of balance…..Felicia could take no more, she plunged into the inky blackness and was gone.
Replies to This Discussion
Reply by Ronin on December 17, 2012 at 12:49pm
controller: this thread is now closed. thank you for your participation