Re: Chapter One: A Crew of Disorderly Misfits

Mon Feb 15, 2010 4:20 pm

Markus pushed through the crowd, just in time to overhear the hushed whisper of the Captain persuading his men to battle the Pirate scum above - a sinister smile grew upon his face as he tried to draw attention to himself. "I'll more than offer my services, I'll offer my life. The faster these Pirate scum are eliminated the better!" he enthusiastically bragged, crossing his arms.

Mon Feb 15, 2010 11:09 pm

Cid grinned evilly. Oh how he'd been waiting...

"Pirate scum, aye? Well, let's blow 'em back to where they came from. There had better be a lot of gunpowder near by. A nice explosion will be a great start to any good adventure!"

Cid rubbed his hands together, looking more than eager to blow something up.

"Besides, you know me, Ribault. If I can't fix it, I'd sure as hell like to break it."

Tue Feb 16, 2010 9:15 pm

As the mayor's attention went to Markus' outburst, Alexander pulled the crowd's attention to himself and his group of misfits. Clutching his fist tightly, he raised his voice. With the approval of his crew--and new recruits he hadn't expected--he felt that they could defend this village and get a ship out of it.

"Call me crazy, as I probably am," he said clearly to the crowd at large, "but I think my crew 'ere can take him down."

This piqued the crowd's interest. A few naysayers shook their heads, but Alexander continued unfazed. "All I need from you lot," he said with a grin, "are some ship parts... cannons, especially, and some general fixups. Automatons and supplies. Preferably, some volunteers also."

His attention turned to the mayor directly as one particular member of the crowd seemed itching to join in. "If you supply us, give us just a smidgen of cash, say... a couple thousand Aurum, and have this town fix up our vessel, you'll have Errorprone's head mounted on your wall in short order. What say you?"

A few in the crowd began a small clamour. Their excitement began to grow, and the entire crew could feel it. The Mayor seemed less pleased, even with an air of disapproval. "You're clearly suicidal," he said aloud. "The man's a seasoned pirate, and you're a bunch of loonies! What's to say he won't burn this entire town in reprisal?"

"We'll meet him on the way," the Captain replied. "Meet him under our own flag. If we don't return, he'll think it's a bunch of pirates. Make it totally unconnected to your operation out here."

With the cheer of the crowds, the Mayor capitulated.

Tue Feb 16, 2010 9:27 pm

As the crowd cheered, a tall, muscular man with an eyepatch and a scary looking weapon on his back pushed through the crowd and stood before the Captain with a confident grin on his face.

"'Ello Mr. Captain," the man said to him, a cigar jutting out of his mouth. "I heard your little plea for help and I came runnin' right away."

The man smiled and threw the stub of his cigar on the ground, stomping it out with his combat boots.

"The name's Gunray," he said to the captain. "Cecil Gunray. I am a mercenary and an esteemed gunner I'll have you know. I'm willing to help you guys defeat these pesky pirates. I haven't seen action for a while, and I'm dying for some! So what do you say? I promise I'll fight for a cheap amount."

Cecil crossed his arms with a cocky grin on his face, waiting for the captain to answer.

Tue Feb 16, 2010 9:38 pm

" A man who actually wants to fight, how foolish. "

The young Doctor would just look at Cecil Gunray and the rest of the crew who were itching to get into a fight. He only fought when needed to so he sighed and just watited for the next command.

Tue Feb 16, 2010 9:50 pm

Bishop walked up to the captain after listening to his request, following the large man with the cigar.

"I'd like to help you out," he said, "I can't wait to tear somma' those pirates apart!"

He looked at the man with the cigar in distaste. "Man, put that thing out or get away from me." Bishop turned back to the captain, "Name's Wallace, by the way. Bishop Wallace."

Tue Feb 16, 2010 10:32 pm

Cid laughed, grinning evilly.

"Hey, you wanna join us, I'm sure that Captain Ribualt won't mind in the least!"

Cid's hand rested on the hilt of the katana tied loosely to his belt. For all things, he looked very like the image of certain recruiting posters for the Empire. It was easy to tell that this man was beyond ready to give his life for the Captain. He turned around, stopping quickly.

"Oh, for the records, the name is Highwind. Cid Highwind."

Tue Feb 16, 2010 10:44 pm

Thatch nodded to the new recruits, whom he had not expected to join, although he was glad some had the will to fight in that rotten town.

"Glad to see some people here know how to throw a punch. Names Edward Thatch, ye can all call me Thatch, anythin' different will get yer head blown off." Thatch said with the same devilish grin. "And if ye need to know, I'm the ships navigator and helmsmen, so just always remember, your life is in the palm o' my hand."

With that, he laughed, thus concluding his more than daunting introduction toward the others who didn't know him. It seemed to be a force of habit, as being a pirate himself earned him quite the reputation for his tongue. Around the ladies however, he was known to be quite different.

Tue Feb 16, 2010 11:37 pm

OOC: Oh my god! It's time for a... a montage! Vith, your character would be dealing with the automatons and the engine. My character is fixing the munitions system. Bleach, yours would be recalibrating controls and fixing the rotors up. Chef, you and a bunch of villagers will be installing guns. Calamity, you'd be helping Chef. DVP, you'd get stuck with setting up the interior of the ship, including organizing everything so it can be found properly.

Alexander, smiling now as wide as he could, gave a hoorah, as he and a mob of townspeople marched to the skyship and began the long process of fixing it up. They had about a week and a half until Errorprone found his way to Rustbukit, and this gave them a week to actually fix the vessel. Alexander found himself crawling through ducts in the ship's munition system, fixing gears and pulleys to get powder and shot to the ship's cannons. As the others joined in, with the help of the townspeople, a spirit of hopefulness settled over them.

Wed Feb 17, 2010 12:11 am

Cid lifted a few worn gears out, throwing them backwards into a pile, replacing them with fresh ones, putting them in carefully to make sure the alignment was kept accurate. Cid picked up a small automaton, whose purpose was to clear out blockages in the engines. Meanwhile, Cid set to work, quickly building automatons out of spare parts, inserting magitek cores to allow the automatons to move. Several, made of a sparkless material, were set to work, bringing powder from the magazine to the dumbwaiters to the cannons. Other automatons were built to keep the boiler stocked with kole. More others were autoloaders, allowing the gunners to focus on firing rather than loading and firing. Other automatons were built for other purposes, but each automaton was built with a single purpose in mind.

Wed Feb 17, 2010 8:14 am

Cecil pulled guns up via pulleys, lifting the heavy metal and setting it on board. The tasks were very hard and menial, but Cecil was used to hard work. He has been doing this for many long years, though he is quite young.

Once all of the guns were onboard, Cecil tied them up so they wouldn't roll all over the place when they were flying. He started to haul up gunpowder after that. The powder seemed to be of good quality, so Cecil couldn't wait to use it against the Pirates. Those brigands were in for a surprise.

Wed Feb 17, 2010 11:39 am

Thatch worked his way into the Helm. He opened latch on the floor, small enough for a single person to fit through, which led directly to all of the various mechanics behind the controls of the ship herself. Thatch climbed down the rungs of the ladder and ended up in quite a narrow and low room which was cluttered with various wires, pipes, and other things. Noting the rusted ends of the wires, the bent pipes, and the stains of water and other things on the floor, Thatch sighed. He would have to replace a lot of different things down below before he could replace the yoke (steering platform) above.

Grabbing a flashlight, Thatch started to undo the wiring and replacing them with newly "purchased" ones. Pipes that were bent of causing leaks were uprooted and thrown away, leaving newer ones to take their place. Whoever designed the ship obviously did not like organization, Thatch though, as the wiring ran to and fro in a rather dangerous way. Using all of the electrical knowledge he obtained, he re-routed the wiring in various places so that it was made logical and orderly.

After his business was complete, the last objective being to recalibrate the steering commands and mechanisms directly below where the yoke would be. All he had to do was replace the older joystick method of steering for the better suited yoke method which comprised of a steering wheel that controlled yaw and roll, and the large stick which would control altitude and other various directions.

Thatch made his way back up to the helm, stretching a bit after leaving that cramped access room. He went over to the dashboard and uprooted all of the unnecessary joysticks and started to install the yoke through the flooring which connected to a rotary of sorts. After screwing in the last bolt, Thatch wiped his forehead dry of sweat and headed back outside to fix the rotors.

Sat Feb 20, 2010 12:25 am

The ship came together wonderfully, as her iron belly was filled with furniture and items for cheap. Turrets were mounted to the side, their bulk a threatening sight as the former courier transformed into a war machine. The automatons came together, dancing in tightly controlled routines to help keep the ship in the air and operational.

Days passed, then a week, as the ship was painted by a crew of volunteers. In their haste, they drew straws, argued, had a pint, and it all blew over--resulting in a truly remarkable paint scheme. A toothy shark's grin adorned the front of the ship, ignoring the frontal turret, and on either side of the bow were a pair of menacing eyes. Further aft was the decided insignia of the group--a gear-framed skull, with a crossed wrench and a hand holding a revolver.

The last of the systems were in place as the great craft was pronounced ready for flight. Alexander, surrounded by his new crewmates, grinned like he never had before, despite the mayor's resigned sigh. As the ship, in its newfound glory, was loaded with munitions from the town's meagre armoury, he delivered a bit of a speech, bottle of rum in his hand.

"We did it! We doggun did it!" he shouted, as he walked around erratically. "We set sail tommorow! Don't get too bad of a hangover!"

Sat Feb 20, 2010 11:04 am

Cid laughed to himself as he looked over the ship.

:It'll be good to be flying with Ribault and Thatch. Just like old times.:

He merely drank out of a small unmarked jar, walking off towards the ship. As suspicious as the jar might be, it was merely a new form of tea, powdered rather than leaf tea, making it more likely to last a few days before going sour.

:These parties never really made sense to me at all, to tell the truth. Ah well. Never was much of a drinker. Suppose there's always something to gain from it.:

Sat Feb 20, 2010 2:23 pm

Cecil looked at the now finished ship and grinned. It seemed that it was worth all the work. This ship now looked like it was ready to obliterate some pirates! He lifted up a whiskey bottle he had found a little while ago and took a swig.

"I'll try not to, but I can't give you any guarantees, Cap'n!" Cecil replied back to the Captain jokingly as he was addressing all the workers who built the ship.

Mon Feb 22, 2010 1:17 am

Bishop grabbed a drink and took a quick sip. He relaxed a bit from his usual apprehensiveness, taking a deeper drink. He leaned against a wall and let out a contented sigh, impressed with the fine product of their labors. Bishop scanned the scene, watching his companions.

Mon Feb 22, 2010 9:58 pm

The ship lifted off from the ground slowly, as if it were feather-light; its deceiving bulk, the size of a large house, rose from the ground effortlessly. Its crew of rum-guzzling wisecrackers worked together with military precision, stocking the two engines' massive, hungry mouths with kole. Thatch worked the levers and joystick at the front to test the newly wired rotors, under the direction of Alexander, who for now worked lookout. The crowd cheered them on as the Legacy rose above the roofs of their houses and began its long journey north to intercept Lord Errorprone.

"It's about time we're up!" Alexander hollered jovially as he clamoured down the ladder to the Bridge. "Thatch! Great job on the piloting! Cid, those props spin beautifully!"

He stepped over to the skymap, mounted over the Babbler. Below them, the tidy plains gave way to beautiful foothills, opening into mountains; towers of rock rendered in miniature as they finally disappeared below the clouds. As the skyship rose above the reach of giants, only their loyal compass and the coming night would serve to guide them.

Lord Errorprone's rounds each year took him across a vast expanse, but the route remained the same each year; his ship, Alexander recalled, was designed to be noticed and feared. The crew gathered for dinner over a set of battle plans.

"I've done some calculations on my grinder," Alex announced, "and I believe that we will meet Errorprone somewhere around the town of Koriskant. It's in a similar position to Rustbukit, so there won't be much help..."

OOC: Grinder refers to this amazing device, which Alex owns.

Mon Feb 22, 2010 10:41 pm

Cecil ate at the table with almost no manners, not caring what anyone really thought of him. He looked up at Alex when he told them his recent discoveries.

"Help?" Cecil said rhetorically. "You got us! They're just a band of pirates. They can't be too tough to defeat. I think this ship is more than enough to take care of 'em."

Tue Feb 23, 2010 5:55 pm

Thatch stood in the Helm, whistling a tune as he kept the proper bearing. On his dashboard was his ever trusty sextant. By his side, as always, pinned to the wall were his maps, and by his side a cup of coffee to keep him awake and flying this new beauty, properly named the Legacy. She was indeed a grand ship, and flew high in the clouds at good speeds.

In one hand he held his main joystick, which he held at a constant bearing. In his other he held his compass, the very one that made it out of that deserted island that he was shipwrecked on. The needle pointed at the True North bearing, something all sailors and pilots alike used as their waypoint. He pocketed his compass and took a chomp out of his sandwich, as he didn't want to leave the Helm to eat with the others.

Clouds passed by in large wisps around the large bubble window, which allowed quite a view. On a meter to Thatch's right, was the current altitude they were flying at, it was currently only around 2,000 feet from the ground, which was only just less than a forth of the maximum altitude that the Legacy could rise. The ship was also traveling at around ten knots, which wasn't bad at all considering how large the ship was. However, thanks to its brilliant designs and engine, the Legacy could travel much faster.

Taking another bite from his sandwich; which happened to be a sub with ham, cheese, turkey, lettuce, tomato, salami, along with two strips of bacon (which consequently goes great with anything), with mustard and mayonnaise, Thatch headed out from the helm and into the Bridge. He checked the Babbler to make sure all was going according to plan, and then started to climb up the rungs of a metal ladder onto the Navigation Deck, as he called it.

Opening the hatch, he climbed up onto the well sided deck and stood. He held his arms out wide and cheered as the wind blew passed him in steady but strong waves. It brought back the days of him piloting his old ship, along with his crew. Even though those days were gone, his memories now lied with his new crew and friends. Walking to the very bow of the ship, past the Mizzenmast and Foremast, which stood upright with sails furled tightly to their spars. Holding onto the bulwark at the bow, he looked down and saw the lit room from within the bubble beneath, which was of course, the Helm. His joystick was still locked in the position he wanted.

Sighing happily, Thatch felt the air around him. Closing his eyes, he could feel the clouds and predict the weather, as well as his old sailor training as a Navigator aboard his old Pirate ship. The weather was fine.. perfect for a battle in the sky. For another few minutes, Thatch stood upon the Nav Deck before heading back down to the Helm to continue his steering, for soon enough, their bearing would change, heading the Legacy straight for their enemy.

Tue Feb 23, 2010 6:29 pm

Cid, slightly bored, headed back out of the room for the engines. As expected, there was little to do. Make sure the engine ran fine, make sure that Automatons were in check, et cetera. It was a routine, repeated by every engineer around the world in some similar form. Outside of occasion checks of the systems, Cid just did some work with the automatons, cleaning them, oiling them, checking their Cores. A constant routine, but one that Cid treated like a meditation of sorts.