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thelong18th2017-05-13 09:18 pm
pyracy) wrote in thelong18th2017-05-13 09:18 pm
Entry tags:
INTRO LOG
Who: Everyone
What: First intro log ever. Welcome to Tortuga!
When: Upon characters' arrivals.
Where: Tortuga: The jungle, the town, the docks, the beach.
Warnings: It's Tortuga. There are prostitutes and pirates and a bunch of losers from somewhere else entirely. If something needs to be warned for, let me know and I'll edit it in.
ARRIVAL: When you come to, you're surrounded by tropical forest that's thick enough to make the whole clearing look like late afternoon, though it's impossible to tell what time of day it is in reality. There are the sounds of strange animals and birds from every direction, and to one side the land starts sloping steeply upward. No matter how you try, there's no way to scale it: You'll slide back down, or those with the powers of flight will find themselves tethered to the earth. In fact, the longer you stand in this clearing, the more you feel the pull to turn from that steep slope and walk in the other direction. Which is wise; this jungle is full of things that would probably like to eat you.
TORTUGA: While Tortuga usually believes in the addage "there's no such thing as a free lunch", after an assortment of strange-looking characters start emerging from the jungle, looking like a disoriented group of greenhorns, some enterprising soul is staking his livelihood on you newcomers to either have something good to trade or remember that he did you a good turn down the road after you stumbled out of the jungle. He shoos the locals and pirates away, but near the edge of town closest to the jungle where you emerge you'll find a nice set up with food and booze, if you want it. Seriously, there's no catch. Just remember him when you come back into port again, will you?
Elsewhere, there are plenty of employment opportunities, if you're already thinking that far ahead. Taverns are looking for wenches and cooks, those with carpenter experience are welcome to try down at the docks with the shipwrights, the brothels are, of course, always hiring, and there are no limits to the crews looking for more members. You'll see them, especially, hanging around outside of taverns, dressed in their fanciest getups, boasting about how much money they've pulled in on their last haul, how well they eat, and aren't they dressed so nicely? The captain's inside, go on in and put your name on the articles.
As for lodgings and other assorted things, they're around, but you'll need coin to actually obtain anything. If you've found a job, you'll probably get paid at day (or night's) end, so you're set. Otherwise, the beach is a good place to have a little camping trip, even among all the pirate camps set up. You might even make some friends down there, but check your back for the knife in it come morning. If neither of those suit your fancy, maybe someone who arrived with you and is doing better in the luck department is feeling generous and will let you share theirs. It never hurts to ask around, after all.
There are ships that come and go at all hours, and that's always viable, too. If you have found yourself enough money for passage, some might take you on as a passenger, but since this is a pirate port, the majority are going to expect you to work for it, because you will, after all, be using resources like food. It's good on the job training, with the added bonus of the threat of the different European navies patrolling the waters looking to bag themselves some pirates. Think of it as an adventure.
And of course, there are the big questions of why and how. Why are you here? How are you suddenly in a different time and place? And for God's sake, why are you in a freaking pirate port? While you guys are going to stick out like a group of waddling ducklings if you stick together, here it might be the best plan of action, to see if anyone knows what's going on.
NETWORK: Or you can post a callout on the network inpyratacodex, if you'd rather not meet and greet. That, maybe, is a good way to get everyone's attention all at once, once you figure out how the mirrors work.
What: First intro log ever. Welcome to Tortuga!
When: Upon characters' arrivals.
Where: Tortuga: The jungle, the town, the docks, the beach.
Warnings: It's Tortuga. There are prostitutes and pirates and a bunch of losers from somewhere else entirely. If something needs to be warned for, let me know and I'll edit it in.
ARRIVAL: When you come to, you're surrounded by tropical forest that's thick enough to make the whole clearing look like late afternoon, though it's impossible to tell what time of day it is in reality. There are the sounds of strange animals and birds from every direction, and to one side the land starts sloping steeply upward. No matter how you try, there's no way to scale it: You'll slide back down, or those with the powers of flight will find themselves tethered to the earth. In fact, the longer you stand in this clearing, the more you feel the pull to turn from that steep slope and walk in the other direction. Which is wise; this jungle is full of things that would probably like to eat you.
TORTUGA: While Tortuga usually believes in the addage "there's no such thing as a free lunch", after an assortment of strange-looking characters start emerging from the jungle, looking like a disoriented group of greenhorns, some enterprising soul is staking his livelihood on you newcomers to either have something good to trade or remember that he did you a good turn down the road after you stumbled out of the jungle. He shoos the locals and pirates away, but near the edge of town closest to the jungle where you emerge you'll find a nice set up with food and booze, if you want it. Seriously, there's no catch. Just remember him when you come back into port again, will you?
Elsewhere, there are plenty of employment opportunities, if you're already thinking that far ahead. Taverns are looking for wenches and cooks, those with carpenter experience are welcome to try down at the docks with the shipwrights, the brothels are, of course, always hiring, and there are no limits to the crews looking for more members. You'll see them, especially, hanging around outside of taverns, dressed in their fanciest getups, boasting about how much money they've pulled in on their last haul, how well they eat, and aren't they dressed so nicely? The captain's inside, go on in and put your name on the articles.
As for lodgings and other assorted things, they're around, but you'll need coin to actually obtain anything. If you've found a job, you'll probably get paid at day (or night's) end, so you're set. Otherwise, the beach is a good place to have a little camping trip, even among all the pirate camps set up. You might even make some friends down there, but check your back for the knife in it come morning. If neither of those suit your fancy, maybe someone who arrived with you and is doing better in the luck department is feeling generous and will let you share theirs. It never hurts to ask around, after all.
There are ships that come and go at all hours, and that's always viable, too. If you have found yourself enough money for passage, some might take you on as a passenger, but since this is a pirate port, the majority are going to expect you to work for it, because you will, after all, be using resources like food. It's good on the job training, with the added bonus of the threat of the different European navies patrolling the waters looking to bag themselves some pirates. Think of it as an adventure.
And of course, there are the big questions of why and how. Why are you here? How are you suddenly in a different time and place? And for God's sake, why are you in a freaking pirate port? While you guys are going to stick out like a group of waddling ducklings if you stick together, here it might be the best plan of action, to see if anyone knows what's going on.
NETWORK: Or you can post a callout on the network in
pyratacodex, if you'd rather not meet and greet. That, maybe, is a good way to get everyone's attention all at once, once you figure out how the mirrors work.
Sole Survivor (Nora Endicott) | Fallout 4 | OTA
She's grateful for the offer of food, especially fresh meat that doesn't seem to come from a radroach, though she's more than a little suspicious that there isn't a catch. She takes the opportunity to refresh herself, sitting with a plate of food and a glass of rum - she doesn't trust the water to be rad-free, at least yet - with her PipBoy in her lap, trying to figure out just why it's not working.
no subject
While on the one hand, he is highly disturbed at finding himself here, with a tattoo he never asked for in a place he'd really rather not lead a conversation with, there's still something kind of exciting about the whole thing. Maybe this is one of those authentic destination vacations or something.
But he's also been on the lookout for people who...Well. Stand out as badly as he does, so when he spots the woman in the Dick Tracy cosplay with piece of tech that looks like it comes right out of a bad 50s sci-fi movie, he makes his way over.
"So, are you going for the whole futuristic Maltese Falcon look or was that unintentional?"
Would you like some options. Because I will give you some options. Have a dirty pirate.
[There's tittering around the docks, but as he's been busy arguing with the carpenters that face the docks and arguing over price for repairs, he's paid it all very little mind. After all, he can imagine what it's about, considering half of piratedom has just sailed in from a battle to end all battles against the East India Trading Company and saving everyone's ass, not just the few that had met that armada out on the sea.
So instead of venturing further in for the moment, he's instead positioned on walk of the slip the Pearl has found berth in, arms folded, watching every move made by the carpenters with a critical, hawk-like gaze. She needs the repairs, but he'll be damned if these fools aren't trying to rip them off, so he's not above offering critique if he thinks they're doing shoddy work.]
If you so much as splinter that railing one bit more, I'll be dragging your sorry arse under her keel. What did I just get out of me mouth, you half-witted- [And yes, that is a noise of frustration, and a possibly grumbled-under-his-breath fucking laggard son of a bitch. To say his temper is running high is a bit of an understatement.]
oo2; market.
[In reality, it's Jack that should be doing this. They're both very good at convincing people to agree with them, something Hector is ashamed to admit, but Jack is - again, so very ashamed of it - better at the schmoozing part than Hector ever has been. And true, in reality, the ideal situation would be refitting together (he still has no intention of Jack coming along when the Pearl actually leaves Tortuga but...What Jack doesn't know won't hurt him much), but the list they both have is long and varied and complicated, and it's simply better to split up, and get it done much faster this way.
But since spending a good chunk of the earlier part of the day in port yelling at the carpenters, he's finally made his way into the town proper, going about his errands. And in that time, he's very much noticed the strange-looking strays wandering around, though he's kept his distance.
He's not getting dragged into any other shenanigans, thank you very much. Especially the kind that scream trouble when he sees them.
Two shop girls dart out in front of him as though he's not even there, and he stops short in the middle of the street to keep from practically plowing right over them, as they never even glance his way. Honestly, the nerve of some of the people in this place.]
oo3. choose your own adventure.
[Or find him somewhere else! He can be literally anywhere you want him.]
docksss
He's not completely sure why he does it, but he shakes out his robe again (it's easier to put it back on, even in the heat, than to keep carrying it beneath his arm) and steps up next to the pirate captain (with a hat like that, he must be a captain, right?) and makes sure his voice sounds like he's trying to be quiet but can definitely be overheard by the workers.]
You were right, captain, they are doing better work somewhere else. Probably for less, too. It was a good idea to check.
his name is hancock and he is a raisin. love him.
The guy hadn't.
So now he's perched on a barrel situated against a wooden wall, picking his way through - as far as he can tell, he doesn't have a fancy geiger counter or anything, and even if he did, he's pretty sure he'd set the damn thing off himself - radiation-free food (apparently the cows here only have one head) and working his way through bottle number one. If he's stuck in some weird fever dream, he's going to at least have a blast while he's doing it.]
Would you look at this place, though? [He says it to himself, because where he's positioned he can see all of that water, and there's nothing really...Ominous about it at all. Not that he wants to get in it or anything, because ghouls and water? Yeah, they don't mix.] It's like some kind of pre-war wetdream.
:D
So once she's collected a plate of her own—just enough to make it look like she needs it, although here in the tropics she might be able to survive on sunlight alone if she has to—she leans against his wall just in time to hear his comment.]
Pre-war? Which war? There was a war?
Tortuga
He leaves his wig, hat, and goldenrod waistcoat in the jungle, wearing his blue frock coat--now stained with blood and dirt--over shirtsleeves and trousers. It leaves him feeling terribly unkempt, but he's not keen on dying again after just having joined the living once more, and he suspects that the denizens of Tortuga wouldn't greet an officer of the East India Trading Company in a friendly and welcoming manner. He can be comforted by the knowledge that by Tortuga standards, his sartorial choices are practically dandyish.
The first order of business is to find out how much time has passed and what happened to Elizabeth. He approaches the first person he sees and makes his inquiry.]
What day is it?
[Just his luck that the first person he asks is too drunk to answer. He moves to the next person.]
I implore you, please, tell me what day it is!
no subject
Looks as though ye might need more'n the day, mate. The year, more like. Or a last meal.
[There's a tone of dark humor to her voice, but she's not smiling.]
no subject
I couldn't possibly worry about food at this moment.
[Although she's right; more time might have passed than he's realized. It could have been years since he last ate.]
The year and day, then. And the current status of the Pirate King, if you should happen to know.
/rises from the ashes I'M SORRY
[Her tone is clear: What ass-backwards world are you from?
The year, however, she can provide. It's still somewhere in the 1740s, which might not come as a surprise, but she gives the exact date grimly, as it's 20 years in the future for her.]
As for the day, I think it's a Tuesday. If a sober man can be trusted in Tortuga.
no subject
Elizabeth frowns and nearly steps back, but instead remains firmly in place- it wouldn't do to show fear here.]
I do not know the day, sir. I had been hoping for the same answer, myself.
no subject
My apologies...[How to address her when he doesn't know her station? He quickly decides that it's better to assume too high and be corrected than give offense by assuming too low.]...my lady.
Might I ask how you arrived here?
no subject
Now, however, did not seem the time to correct him. That could come later- if at all. (Her name would certainly give her away- or so she'd assume.)]
Via the jungle- though I am not yet certain how I arrived there.
no subject
no subject
[Though he was not to blame- Lizzie pulls a face instead of complaining further to the stranger, and puffs out a short breath.] This is all far too strange for my tastes, forgive me.
no subject
[And this further confirms to him that she, like himself, was not brought here by normal means.]
I'm not a superstitious man by nature, but there is something decidedly unnatural going on.
no subject
I'm afraid I must agree... [After another moment, however, it appears she's resolved the thoughts racing through her mind and she nods her head slightly.] I'm sure it will be resolved soon enough- after all, once I've been discovered missing, no expense shall be spared to find me.
no subject
If I may ask, who is your family? I'm familiar with most of London society and if there is a port town in the Caribbean where a distant relation of yours dwells, I may know of it.
no subject
The House of Tudor.
[The name felt foreign on her tongue- however it would yield the greatest response...]
Or York, should that fail.
[The name she should have more readily given.]
no subject
The House of Tudor, what nonsense. That's--
["Impossible," he, a dead man talking, was about to say. Perhaps he should rethink that assumption. His gaze drifts to her crown.]
The House of Tudor ended with the death of Queen Elizabeth. [He says cautiously.] Well over a hundred years ago.
no subject
Rather than deflating, however, she squares her shoulders and ceases to fidget with her sleeves.]
I am Elizabeth of York, wife to Henry VII the King of England. I can assure you, I'm quite alive and well- I am standing before you, am I not?
no subject
Daughter, sister, and wife of kings?
[His mind wants to reject the notion. It's the eighteenth century, dammit all. The War of the Roses was centuries ago.
But if he's been brought back from Dis' dark shores, then who's to say that Elizabeth of York wasn't as well?
Then again, she could just be a fraud. A very convincing one. Or a madwoman.]
no subject
[This place was strange, but not strange enough to discredit her royal heritage was it? Her line was said to have died off- but that made little sense...
About as much sense as her waking up here. Perhaps this place was stranger than she initially anticipated.]
Kara Danvers Zor-El | DCTV | OTA
So, no, this isn't real, and Kara isn't going to be worried. That is absolutely what she's telling herself as she's walking toward town. She skirts the free food because, well, she loves food but strictly speaking she doesn't need to eat. Probably especially not here where the sun is even stronger.
There are too many people in town, too many stares, and eventually she makes her way down to the water's edge. The waves wash over her shoes, carrying sand right into them, and she's fed up with this. She's going to fly home and nothing's going to stop her. The takeoff is sudden and not at all subtle, leaving behind a lot of waves that roil over the sand and probably spray anyone nearby. Unfortunate, since that's exactly where she finds herself again, teleported back into her own footprints when she'd flown barely a mile.
"I'm not playing along!" Is she yelling at any particular person in the vicinity? Is she yelling into the void, or the unforgiving sun? Who can say? Not Kara, that's for sure.
Elizabeth of York | the white princess | ota
There's few explanations for what exactly is going on, for where exactly the Queen of England is now. One could be that the fever has returned and she fell ill without realizing it. While it may be hard to believe, there were few other explanations of her waking in a jungle so shortly after her coronation. Unless she had been kidnapped- but who could manage such a feat when she was guarded so carefully today more than any other? Regardless of how she arrived here, it wouldn't do to treat it as though it were a trivial matter.
Lizzie grabbed her crown from next to herself and stood up slowly, carefully. Placing it back atop her head, she pursed her lips and let out a slow breath as she glanced around. There was no climbing that incline, even if she had been in appropriate garment to do so. Therefore, she had no choice but to make her way down slope, skirts gathered up in one hand just enough to keep from tripping. She had no way of protecting herself- so she had find her way out of the wild, as it were, as soon as she could.
Maybe she'd be lucky enough to find an escort on her way down while she was at it.
b. - is for bar. tortuga bound
Whether or not she's found the escort down and out of the jungle, Lizzie does find her way into town. For the gentleman that has set up food and drink for the wandering masses, she offered her earrings. "It's not much," she explained softly. But if she could help, she wanted to. In exchange, she accepted some of the food and alcohol and found a clear spot to sit and eat. She wouldn't oppose company, she'd even offer up some food from her own plate, but she wouldn't go searching it out.
After having her fill of food (of what little she could stomach on such uncertainty, and roasting in the heat as she was), Lizzie made her way into town- the same cold, careful expression on her face as she looked around. There were eyes on her, she was certain of it, but she was the Queen- that was to be expected. Still, growing tired of the uncertainty, she paused just past the market and looked around to get a better sense of where she was.
The choice to duck into the nearest tavern to do just that, however, may not be the best choice for the once Queen of England.
and then I finally finished writing my intro
On the Hunt (for a job)
Wildcard
thanks mary
So like, he expects some kind approach, but a fist to his face when he hits the doorway? That's a little much. With a loud curse under his breath, he reorients himself into standing straight, rubbing his jaw. While the drunk was still catching his footing behind him, instead of just returning it with his own fist, he pulls the sword to train it on the man's chest while he casts and annoyed look back at Mary.]
Is this yours?
Harry Potter | OTA come at me bros
[He's in trouble, obviously. He'd been on the train back to the Dursleys, then in the forest, now he's here, no closer to getting home or having any idea what's happened, he's in trouble. But Harry has had more than a little practice in sneaking about, and once he's dirtied up his clothes and face a bit, it's not as obvious he's not from round here. And once he's begun blending in just a bit more, it gets a lot harder to remember that he's in trouble, versus realizing he's in a city with real pirates and that real pirates are
probablybetter than another summer with the Dursleys.With his unerring instinct for finding the worst places to be, he's gone down an alley (unpleasantly squishy, he's trying not to let his imagination run away with him) as a shortcut, only it's ended up being a shortcut to finding actual trouble. Only one actual trouble though, and a bit drunk already. Probably if he'd run fast enough, he could have got away without much trouble. Still, Harry's whispered Stupefy is a better idea than running, in his mind, as the would-be mugger slumps over and almost immediately starts snoring.
Trouble is, he isn't the only one who saw that.]
Er. Hi. ...could you maybe not say anything about that?
[Please?]
Waterfront
[Harry is doing his best not to attract attention, but sometimes that sort of behavior is what attracts the most attention. He ends up on the beach eventually, and that's where he gets his first-ever sight of the ocean. The Dursleys didn't believe in vacations to the beach, and even if they had, they wouldn't have believed in bringing Harry with them. He's never even been to the seaside in Brighton or anything. The water is endless and glittering, it's almost whispering to him, and the sight has him sitting on the edge of a dock and just staring for a while.
When he comes to his senses, he gets up and ducks around the side of the boats, just admiring from a distance for now, but with his black robe bundled into his arms and his too-nice clothes (dirt can only do so much, after all) he's clearly not part of any crew, nor is he meant to be anywhere nearby. There are far too many boats here for them all to be pirates, right?]
Are these really pirate ships? All of them?
Elsewhere
[Find Harry ducking around corners and trying to look as inconspicuous as a thirteen-year-old carrying a bundled-up cloak can look!]