westwhere | no man's sea

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no man's sea

Avast ye — sprawling til 18 June is part I of the Storm at Sea travel arc, which doubles as a test drive. Participants don’t need an invite to reserve or apply over 10-17 June.

Try to label if you’re a test drive tourist or an old timer — and don’t hesitate to leave an OOC note to opt out of random NPC piraaaaaaaargh interaction. Test drivers can post both log and network prompts. Have fun!

NO MAN’S SEA

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AHOY! SCALLYWAGS

Departing Ke-Waihu, the existing party joins paranoid pirate king, turned stalwart saint Samuel Vane — the feared Quicksilver Sam — aboard the Pariah.

Test drivers awaken anguishing at sea, floating on rafts, or on minuscule patches of deserted land. They are collected by two pirates and the recalcitrant sorceress Karsa — who supplies translation and communication devices. She explains the newcomers were summoned into the land of Akhuras by warring undead factions. Karsa’s master, the elusive Merchant, ferries newcomers east to beacons hoped to return them home. He has secured them passage on the pirate vessel Queen Zanyra of ’Wet Rope’ Caladan Kreil, an associate of Quicksilver Sam.

The Pariah and Zanyra meet at sea, a day’s travel away from Ke-Waihu:

■ Characters overhear that Quicksilver Sam seeks to reach the haunted Crossing Seas and ‘settle an old score.’ Long-term ally Caladan Kreil supports his cause.

■ The two vessels make daily supply and crew exchanges by rowboat. The Pariah’s passengers must give the passcode: flaunted like gold to board the Queen Zanyra. Staff of the Queen Zanyra must speak the words before the blind man to access the Pariah. Forget your passcode and fall at the mercy of whoever patrols the decks!

■ Tasks await all passengers: diligently clean and polish decks, climb tall masts to sew torn sails, banish a preposterous number of seagulls, fish, read post or… dubious novels to sailors, count loot, guard the decks, clean cannons or serve as boat lure for shark fishing. Medics and cooks can practise their natural trades, while musicians and entertainers should amuse the crew.

■ By all means, grab thematic garments from crew coffers. Also available: daggers, swords and rare pistols.

■ Characters may notice both ship crews are spirited, but grow weary when Quicksilver Sam fitfully orders his five on-call priests to carry out protection rites, or to ‘exorcise’ evil from random staff — through ineffective bitter potions, shrill chants and requests to sit in unusual luck-incurring poses, or to commit some mundane, repetitive task. Let’s bore the devil away.

■ Treat senior crew with respect: some pirates are equally drunk on rum and fleetingly authority and reward perceived slights with a 24h-stay in the brig. These fine accommodations fit two and annul powers while there. No dinner.

■ Sleep where you can: hammocks and rotting mattresses can be found in great common halls beneath decks. The sick and women (naturally, ill omens at sea) can share the four private cabins of each ship. Sumeragi Subaru has his own cabin aboard the Pariah.

■ Each night, expect drinking beneath the halls and a pirate’s greatest hobby: gambling. Conmen might lure you into an ‘innocent game’ that sinks you deep into debt, winning your valuables, favours, or kidney!

■ Ladies are afforded a wide, begrudging berth and some authority over the crew.

■ Accommodations: fresh potions are readily available to ward off sea sickness, and magically resilient oranges are on hand to counter scurvy. As woe would have it, the long-serving Mr. Ishmael has passed, and his earthly remains have been retained aboard the Pariah for Kaneki Ken. Viktor receives a leashed emotional support albatross — a large, loud but docile bird that flies above him counter-current to balance him, whenever the ship’s sway threatens his footing.

OBJECTIVES

■ Discover why good Quicksilver Sam is intent on his haunted travels. The captain declines audiences, but try to get information from the two crews.

■ Please share the information gained via network…!

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THAT SON OF A BISCUIT EATER

Trouble starts to brew, within days at sea:

■ Be on the lookout while on watch duty: on a handful of occasions, new faces appear aboard. They fail to offer the passcode — and attempt to injure characters, throw them overboard, or to enter the captains’ lodgings. Sound the alarm or seize intruders!

■ After interrogating an infiltrator, Caladan Kreil sends word that the assailants hail from the Concord, a war vessel of the Dawns’ Reach Trade Company that is pursuing the pirate ships at distance under the command of Maximilian Hawk. A credit to his name, Wet Rope Caladan has the spy hanged.

■ Prepare to get drafted for double watch duty, as both Caladan Kreil and Quicksilver Sam bolster defences. Tensions escalate, with pirate crew questioning the loyalties of newer recruits.

■ A few days later, at dawns, the silent, swift and massive Concord approaches close enough to fire its cannons at both ships and send vicious militia to climb aboard. Defend your ship!

■ The Concord withdraws by midday, after lightly damaging its opponents. Help with repairs and enjoy some rum — you’ve survived your first sea scuffle!

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MOLLYWICK

Just short of entering the Crossing, where the seas are dark and highly opaque, the Queen Zanyra and Pariah encounter a stretch of vibrant, lushly forested land.

■ Both vessels send crew over for a few hours, with captains urging quick incursions. Pair up to collect berries, scant mushrooms and sweet water. Curiously, no animals are found.

■ Veteran sailors say this is the Neverflight isle of myth, where sea kings have buried their treasures. Pirates share legendary coordinates of long lost loot, archived as riddles or poems. Grab a shovel and a-digging you go!

■ …ah, but don’t linger too long. What pranksters your sailor friends are. Within hours of the island’s appearance, the earth beneath your feet crumbles and quakes, and the land starts to sink. Evacuate or call for help to get out of here — as the great white whale Mollywick submerges in the waters with the Neverflight island it carries on its back. Hopefully, you don’t go under with them.

■ If you’ve threaded out a treasure dig, drop a line to receive some especially deplorable loot. You deserve it.

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THE CROSSING

The Pariah and Queen Zanyra — frequently chained together to avoid separation — creep into the Crossing : a stretch of eerily silent waters, dark and volatile.

■

■ Slowly, a thick, nearly impregnable fog dawns during the day, covering the sun and leaving the skies a desolate slate. Dreadful storms spark at night.

■ Strange, talking carps jump on board, offering to tell you your future. Caution: they only make bad luck readings (request yours) that turn true. They appear wherever their target flees and are exceptionally annoying, until either the moon rises, or you apply the superstitious cure of throwing salt on them.

■ Nightmares haunt you — your own, or glimpsed memories of ships crashing, sinking, falling to storm. Note: only your character suffers these memories/nightmares, but everyone else can experience their exhausted grumpiness, come morning.

■ Be wary, when pairing to cross over to the other pirate ship: you may find another rowboat beside yours, its sailor begging for an oar or ladle. If you give him one, he shovels water into your boat with inhuman speed — desert your vessel and swim quickly to a pirate ship, before undead hands pull you into the sea.

■ While alone on deck, characters might hear sweet, coaxing voices that urge them to walk the plank into the water. Break your brethren from this spell, or watch them fall into the arms of man-eating mermaids.

■ Now and then, the ships are shaken by long, whips of something lashing from the depths.

■ Pirates become increasingly skittish and on edge. Priests perform countless protection rites and exorcisms on both ships.

■ At night, a handful of undead men climb aboard. They lack awareness and are in a clear state of discomposure, looking to catch the living and drown them. With toothless, rotting mouths, some rasp, This is kinder.

■ As you officially enter the Crossing, beams of light erupt in the horizon, showing the distant silhouettes of several ghost ships.

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NOTES

TEST DRIVE QUESTIONS

OLD-TIMER QUESTIONS

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Part of Anduin registers the reason in what she is saying, and he turns ever-so-slightly back toward her. But he does not move further from his position by the rails, his grip resting far lighter than it should.

"I don't..." Anduin begins, raising somewhat from the spell he has fallen into.

Come, my child! the voices sing to him again, more insistent this time. You are weary, from your journey. Join us, child. We will rock you to sleep in the ocean's sweet embraccccce...

Anduin turns back toward the railing. Toward the plank, and the swirl of the water beyond. A part of him, the part buried deep that has not surrendered to the spell, it knows that this is wrong. Something is wrong. But he is so very tired. His mother and father are gone now -- and a kingdom is waiting for him, back at home. To be their king, their leader. But Sylvanas Windrunner is still on the loose, they have only just returned from yet another war and a battle with the Old Gods, and even his advisors question his decision to sign the peace armistice with the Horde. How long will it last? When will the next big problem arise? Will he be ready? He just needs... To rest...

"I need... rest," he echoes, taking a step forward.

More than a year ago. We've been travelling East ever since.

[Sa-Hareth does feel far away these days. So does the cold.]

It was a land of ice and snow, and hunger.

Every little helps.

[And yes, seeing the horizon is doing wonders already. Of course, though, when Moran looks up, the stars still looking unfamiliar. It's not unexpected, but still disconcerting.]

It's a wonder, the fact that my constellation isn't there but my power still works, somehow.

[Moran is trained to not show anything if he doesn't want to because he's royal, and you kind of need to to survive when you're a royal.]

We've been traveling east, all this time. With various stops in different places, some which had means to transport us back home, although unfortunately just a small number at a time, and not always reliably.

[Still saying this completely conversationally.]

We've left quite a lot of ruins and dead bodies in our wake, too. Ke-Waihu was a welcome change in that regard.

Of course you are. Aren't you known all through out the heavens for your power and your generosity?

[Honestly, it's been a while for Xie Lian having someone to just sit companionably with and maybe cuddle a bit, and it's nice.]

They probably won't let us out until tomorrow at the very least, though. You might as well get comfortable and get some sleep.

[Give Xie Lian a second to wipe his hands on his robes before he offers one to help the man stand back up.]

Well, what did they tell you, then? And who was it that brought you up to speed?

[ his eyes must be playing tricks on him. a blossom, a ripple, and then the sound of something dangerous whistling through the air before watching his attacker get repelled by a person who just... appears in front of him. an illusion? some kind of elaborate use of holograms and sound? the latter is incredibly unlikely given how their ship is in terms of age, but...

either way. tenn is quick to get back up to his feet, eyes still on his former attacker who is still reeling from ayato's defense. ]

Of course.

[ whispered, almost a hiss. ]

What... what did you do?

[ though ayato probably won't get a chance to answer as the man charges with his sword up. ]

[ It seems that time travel may be related to averting disaster more often than might be considered healthy for the continued linear existence of the universe and Spock is going to have to meditate on that later. ]

Is the version of Spock that you know limited to this future version of myself or is there also another Spock in your universe?

I will give you thorough reports of anything of note.

[ And he means it, of course. He has excellent attention to detail and he's been writing reports for her for long enough that she knows exactly what to expect from him. If they aren't letting her up on deck, Spock will give her enough detail that it won't matter. ]

I suppose it is logical that we follow their rules for now.

And now an ocean... I suppose it had to happen at some point.

( after all what would the world be if there wasn't water on it at some point )

Has it been a continuous journey?

I am a scientist. I do not believe that my own description would have been quite as titillating as yours might be.

[ A raised eyebrow. Humans often wonder if he does things like this on purpose. He does. ]

Most of it is classified.

[ And thus not anything he wants to describe among this incredibly mixed company they now find themselves surrounded by. ]

The Discovery is gone.

[ Well, he wouldn't think Spock of all people would do it for simple recreational purposes, he of all people knowing how that can affect a timeline. Case in point: here he is, surprise. ]

Yes, like I told you. There is a Spock in my reality, who is also my First Officer. And then there is Ambassador Spock, which is— you, most likely. [ He can't really be 100% sure, who knows how many universes there are out there? ]

But you were already very old when you traveled back in time. You stayed in Vulcan for some years and, ah... recently, you died.

[ It's a strange thing to share, he debates if there's even a point to it, but if there's someone who will be rational about their own mortality, it is Spock; and he did live a long and well-lived life.

Anyway, better this than telling him about the destruction of Vulcan. ]

Sorry. This is all a little weird, I know.

( you're so good to her, spock. favourite person, no contest about it )

Thank you.

I've spoken with a few others here, obtained a star map that someone had. I'll keep speaking with them for additional information.

It is both more and less strange to me than you might expect. In my experience in Starfleet so far, I have learned to expect the strange. Exploring space without that expectation would be most illogical.

[ But he is interested to know that there is another Spock who also joined Starfleet, that he may one day follow in his father's footsteps in an ambassadorial capacity is perhaps more striking information than time travel and timeline altering. He had been prepared to leave his own time to save the universe once. It's not illogical to think he would be willing to do it again, even if that leaves a painful pang in his heart for the fact that it will not be with Michael this time. ]

I would be interested in studying that map at a later time, as well, but for now I shall focus on being your eyes and ears above deck

I do not believe that we have both found ourselves here by accident.

[ But that doesn't mean he understands why. More information must be gathered, including from the other Starfleet officers. ]

I don't like coincidences.

( which also means that no, she doesn't believe that they were here by accident, either. not with how strange the whole occurrence is )

There is something anachronistic. For the general technology of this ship they possess something far more advanced.

Fair enough, [ he dips his head, smiling. Of course that Spock of all people would just roll with it. ] Personally I prefer having no expectations. Just letting everything out there be a surprise.

[ Mostly a good kind of surprise, sometimes a bad one. On balance, Jim thinks he does pretty well. ]

So... 2258, huh? You haven't met me at all yet?

( Water and wet and salt-crept stench of sea water that sputters futilely, dragged at their feet, like the rheum of a hazed moon, cataracted. He feels every colour limpid and coerced to a vexed, seeping confusion: the pale, ghostly greys of his silks, and the greys of cold, rattling water, and the sleepy, sullen greys of a sky long-loomed, unblinking.

He assumes the position Emilia spares him, ever steps behind and at her right, in strategic tessellation that leave his sword hand exposed — and defends their geometry again, when she proposes the brazier, head soft in shake, incorruptible. One tap of his fingers, drum-danced, where Bichen nests in her fetters, biding time to her bite. If they are to walk the decks and murmur vigil on a night half-stormed by air that feels at once prickly and stung, electric and spasmodic — cloying and mineral-heavy in his lungs — then he cannot burden himself with distraction. )

One suffices. ( She leads. He culls. An easy arrangement. ) Perhaps, offer to our companion.

( At distance, the rags of a smoky silhouette, half dream and half man, betrayed more by the jitters of his movements — he seems to Lan Wangji out of turn, too dried on a night that weeps down, trickled.

Confused, perhaps by drink that coaxes their sailor collaborators so often to vacuity, to slack-jawed mouths and rapid hands and dice that tumble, crashing to splinter wet-broken wood and rouse Lan Wangji from his watch, past the sunset hour. There's wanderlust that haunts them, when swill warms their innards tame. A sense of gentle, melodious drift —

That crumbles into jitters now, the man paralysed when they cross glances. Thunder crows, rain tumbles down, spiking. He breathes wet. Cannot explain his need, only, like an animal — waits. )

I do not believe so. I serve under Captain Pike. I have yet to serve as a First Officer, though I believe Number One serves as an excellent example for anyone interested in the position.

[ As she had, of course, been the first person to truly point out to him that he was clearly interested in command. ]

I have only recently returned from a brief sabbatical, so perhaps if I am to meet a version of you, it will be soon.

Yes, I believe there must be something at play beneath the surface of all of this. We will have to keep our senses attuned for any disruptions or cracks, as I believe those may hold the answers we seek.

[ And though Spock does not believe he can pretend to be anyone other than who he is, he is perfectly fine to keep his head down and his eyes open until they have enough data to formulate a plan. ]

( Eat your dead, eat their ghosts. Eat til your teeth erode like mountain mantles, thin, eat til your gums bleed, yoked by slow grind. Keep eating.

Hauntings wake the starveling in him.

Incense mutates his blood to a simmered boil, an easy, flagrant virulence. He inhales it between spasms of wet, and his feet slipping in the slosh of midnight condensation. Leather shoes, the sole delicately constructed for the tame appetites of a Toyko stroll. The casual, negligible paraphernalia of a man who cannot be troubled to exert himself with several train exchanges, when simple apparition names the task done.

Facsimile is juvenile, farcical. Obscene. They are not men without means, without a deeper private understanding of the perverse humour reality weaves inextricably around them. It pleases fate to tussle and spit him, limb-loosed, on an unidentified vessel, in an unidentified land, to unidentified purpose.

It pleases fate and cloud-consumed stars to sit Sumeragi Subaru before him. An absent migraine clutches his temples like a child's fist closes on fresh marigolds. When the hurt breaks, his eyes flash white-gold.

Only, sleeping beauty persists before him, and he never did learn the benefits of studied, appraised rest. When Seishirou draws close, the familiar, visceral metallic trappings of saltpetre and coal cutting through his lungs — he does not acknowledge the sailor who nearly cuts his path. Does not excuse tripping him over. Does not remember to murmur more than tenuous, absent apologies.

He eases himself near Subaru-kun, one knee bent and the other shivered by the great belly-ached tremors of a ship at sea. Like this, he is perilously young, a cat without command or care. Like this, when Subaru-kun opens his eyes, Seishirou will think to steal them.

He blinks awake. Seishirou watches the careful resuscitation of a body recalling itself, the moment between defencelessness and alert. Smells the provocation. Smiles, long like cleaving. )

Shhhhhhhhhhh. I won't tell a soul.

( Spice is the mistress of fortune, better fitted in fists that hold coin. They exercise it sparingly across a vessel, often entrusted to cooks with more years of service under their belt.

But then, there's no need to inform the boy of this gentle, calculated sabotage. Why trouble him, and his mind thereafter? Instead, Caladan holds the smile as steady as he does his ship, and nods with false, studied agreeableness. )

A leader who doesn't spend time with his people shouldn't lead at all. ( And there's the edge of bite to it, a caustic turn to his gaze that lands on the captain's cabin of the Pariah — where Quicksilver keeps his own counsel, as he does every night, secluded. )

My little friend should not be cross with me.

( He murmurs, and takes his time with the expulsion of the last ounce of water that friction can tease free of fur, palms willing. She is a nimble thing, a fitting size for a mouser or a spy or a child's plaything. He cannot say. )

If she were, she would be forgetting she is my guest. ( Remember, madam, and he does not turn the edge of his sharp teeth on her — this be your captain. ) And that would do her a great disservice.

( And the threat there, inevitable: that a cat who walks the plank might land on her feet in water — and still drown thereafter. )

I have no imagination to spare. ( A deep breath that announces he may just as well have completed his sentence there. Only, hastily: ) — on troubled nonsense. Better that we all exercise ourselves in the interest of a safe and expedited journey.

( Farther out, the sudden eruption of howling in the halls signals one of the sailors has done just that — only, aiming his efforts to increase his wealth at the gambling table. Let it be known this is when Mr. Briggs begins to roll his eyes.

He may well never finish. )

A scientist could be of better use assisting with navigation. ( God knows the men tasked with finding north can hardly find their own laces, these days. ) You are likely wasted here.

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