reallybadeggs | Test Drive for October 2013 Apps

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Test Drive for October 2013 Apps

Welcome to your monthly Test Drive for

high_seas! Here is where new players can test out their characters' voices, old players can try out new muses, and everyone can help each other get some threads for their applications! Feel free to use one of the prompts below, or come up with something on your own! Comment around, have fun, and remember that any CR formed here does not carry over to the game!

See you during the application round!

♦ So you're new to this world and have just woken up in the Town Square. How do you react? What do you do?

♦ You're lost at sea. Maybe you got separated from your crew. Or perhaps you're on an abandoned island. You need help!

♦ "Pirates off the starboard bow!" It's an enemy ship! Attack!!

♦ You and your crew are hanging out on your ship. Just another day at sea!

♦ "LAND, HO!" Hey look, a new island! How about you go explore it? Tell us what you find!

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1.

[Commander Horatio Hornblower stood on the poop deck with a pocketwatch in his hand. A set of barrels floated away on the ocean -- empty targets. He had his crew split into four gun teams and a captain appointed to each.

His own voice was the appropriate quarterdeck boom.]

The fastest load, accurate shot, and reload is the winner. I'll award an extra ration of grog to any team who can hit their barrel.

[He glanced at the stop watch, waited for the second hand to strike the new minute, then called out:]

Begin!

2.

[The commander -- captain, here, with no Royal Navy to be particular about his rank -- was, perhaps, not the most sociable of men, but a knock at his cabin door was all it took to gain audience.

At present, he was leaned over his desk, a map spread out. He marked distances with two rulers and a compass, charted their course and planned where they would go next, all the while glancing at the list of their supplies, deciding how long they could go before they were tempting fate.]

[ Desmond never would have guessed in a million years that some of the lesser skills he picked up in the Animus would ever be applicable to his life in the 21st century. How often did a man need to handle a gondola, or reload a flintlock pistol in the dark?

Or, y'know, how to load and fire a damn cannon?

While he carried on the proud Miles tradition of being something of a smarmy douche, when it's go time he's on point, and every bit of drilling they'd been doing of late had him ready to let fly some real firepower. Hornblower seemed to know what he was doing, and a man who knew what he was doing spelled a quicker ticket home for Desmond.

Ramming home the whole mess of cartridge, wadding and shot made him nervous, but it was over and he was as yet unexploded; tackle was hauled with his team to run the gun out, sighting up their target. Desmond covered his ears reflexively against the sound of it, the explosion that rattled his teeth and burned his eyes with the smoke. The whole process was repeated again, the other teams and their progress going ignored until his group was finished.

So, Captain- pass or fail? ]

[Hornblower, for the most part, seems to ignore all of the progress made by the sailors. When the last gun is reloaded and the second round fired, he noticably checks his watch.]

Six minutes. You're only as good as the slowest gun crew when it comes to broadsides.

I expect you all to work on learning your duties, their order, and how those around you work.

[Overall, he sounded extremely unimpressed.

...Once the general crew had dispersed, however, his dark eyes shifted their gaze to Desmond, and he approached the other man. Very, very faintly, the captain's mouth turned with a slight smile.]

With men like you, Mister Miles, it's no surprise the colonies worn their wore.

[Someone who knew him well enough -- or knew the type -- might hear the hint of a joke in his voice.]

[ Desmond turned from his study of their targets, mildly surprised. He wondered what Shaun would be doing in his place. Probably planning his proposal to Horatio and his stiff upper lip. ]

Shucks, Captain, I never thought you'd notice. Does that mean we're all forgiven for the Tea Party?

[ He was cautious about pressing his luck--which for Desmond was incredibly cautious--but his tone held a similar note of humor. ]

I believe it's safe to say you are. [He chuckled just the faintest bit.] Though that was before my time.

[Which sounds strange to his ear. But this place does that.]

It's good to have another sailor on board. Plenty of landsmen who need to be trained, and I couldn't do it myself.

[...And he needs officers. Guess who's being considered, Desmond?]

[ He rubbed his thumb against his unshaven jaw, contemplative. Part of him thought to protest being marked as a sailor at all- though in a way it was perfectly true. He knew the Aquila from the tops of her canvas down to her bilges, absorbed every last shred of Faulkner's tutelage, and went on to captain a third-rate ship-of-the-line with remarkable success. All through Connor and the Animus, all of it imprinted on Desmond just as readily as those first instances of free-running had been.

He realized he hadn't responded, ]

I'll do my best to be useful. The sooner the greenhorns get more experience in, the better for us all.

[ A beat, then he added, with a quirk of his lips, because the only man he ever really called 'sir' was his father, and even that was sometimes a stretch, ] Sir.

What do you think about this gemstone we're supposed to find? Think it's legitimate?

[But the word comes without Hornblower having to prompt it, so the captain pretends there was no delay at all. This crew will have to be taught, but he's done it before. He's watched landsmen become seamen.]

I would like to say it's pure superstition, and, therefore, nonsense.

...But we are here. In a place none of us remember coming to and where a ghost seems to walk the earth.

It... may be best to assume such a thing is real until we know for certain.

[He'd asked after Hornblower almost immediately after he'd arrived. It seemed only natural to him, despite the unnatural nature of the place, that the man would be here. So it was of no surprise to Bush's steady mind that Hornblower had beaten him here - already had a ship, and crew. The pirate part, perhaps, but if Bush knew anything about him then Hornblower was pirate only in name.

He found his way to the ship, taken across the bay in a little boat, let onto the deck without fanfare. They were, after all, looking for crew. He'd given his name but asked if he could introduce himself, rather than be introduced, and they had allowed it.

So it was that he found himself, hat under his arm, knocking on Hornblower's door. He let himself in soon after.]

I'm told you are the Captain. [Just the slightest trace of amusement.] My congratulations, Sir.

[When the door opened, Hornblower allowed himself to show his surprise for only a moment and his smile even less. Still, for someone who had served alongside him on Renown, both the expressions were there to be seen.]

Mister Bush. Welcome aboard.

[It seemed impossible, all of this, yet it also seemed he had no choice but to acknowledge it as real. The last time he had seen William Bush, he had made the fourth between Admiral Pellew, Captain Hammond (a man he still could not think of without a bit of rage and bitterness), and the young Hammond, the captain's nephew. This was a far cry better -- even if he had to adopt the name of piracy -- than having a young woman lie about funds he did not have and playing whist to see his rent settled and a meal bought.]

Are you-- [It was an awkward moment for someone to trained in the ways of the navy. Here was a man who knew he'd lied. Who knew his promotion to commander had been denied. Who, by virtue of terms of service, outranked him. And who was... Either calling him on that lie or agreeing to pretend to it. He wasn't entirely sure which. Nor could he phrase his question exactly how he wanted with the seconds ticking by and Bush standing right there.]

Do you mean to stay? I would-- We would all be happy for someone with your experience.

[The last time Bush had seen Hornblower, on the other hand, was during the peace. Hornblower had gotten his commission but lost it, and both of them had been living on the navy's meager half-pay, dreaming of a commission and a ship.

So though the place was strange, Bush was not too bothered by it. The work would be the same, in the end, and thankfully it seemed, so too would be the company.]

I do intend to. [The smile that split his face was the one he reserved only for the closest of his friends - completely opposite to the stern gruffness he displayed on deck.]

If you'll have me, of course.

[Hornblower allowed himself the faintest of smiles. It was a relief, if he were entirely honest with himself, to have a man at his side he knew and could trust. To be able to turn a watch over so he could attempt to sleep without worrying about his choice.]

I would be honoured if you would remain. [That same small smile crept onto his face, and he took out the book he'd been using as his muster list, opening it and offering his quill.] I'm still in need of a first mate. She's... not a seventy-four, I'll grant you, but if you would do me the honour...

Yes, of course. My pleasure, sir.

[The title was easy, natural. Despite being Hornblower's senior, it had been obvious to Bush ever since the Renown that the man was destined for command, and he could not think of a man he'd rather serve under than this one.

He stepped over, his hat still tucked under his arm, and leaned down to sign himself onto the muster list. He wrote his name in slightly blocky but neat letters, and then paused before he wrote his rank. After a breath, he wrote 'First Mate'. This was hardy the Royal Navy, after all.]

Though I never thought I would be taking up Piracy. [Just the gentle trace of amusement, an assumption of a shared joke.]

Edited 2013-09-24 17:53 (UTC)

[Not unless as mutineers after Renown.

But that, of course, could not be said. For he had maintained from that first night that the captain had fallen. Through all the questioning, through all the turmoil, that statement had been a constant. The captain had been overexcited, looking for mutineers, and he had overbalanced.

He makes himself smile a little.]

A sad state of affairs, but we are far from home. [And, well. Hornblower knew himself well enough. Any piracy they might engage in would be of the slightest nature. More akin to privateers.] And. [There was a true smile for just a moment. The flicker of dark eyes that had been too long on short.] It is a ship.

[There were some things that Bush both wanted to know and didn't want to know, and the truth behind Captain Sawyer's fall was one of them.

It had long been put behind them, in any case.]

Aye, [With a slight grin and a nod to the deck above them,] That she is, sir.

The question is, sir, do you have a crew fit to sail her?

I... have a crew. [Not a crew fit to sail, but crew.]

Landsmen. Probably the largest and greenest collection I've ever seen. At least half like haven't done a day's labour in their lives.

[Horatio gave a small, thin smile. Tired but... slightly hopeful.]

With a good first mate, though, and a competent captain, I think they can be trained.

[They always learn. Through hard work and relentless drilling.]

[a knock knock knock at the door and a seven foot pirate filling the frame, leaning against the top of it to grin down affably]

Good evening, good sir. How is it, as they say, hanging?

[The expression gets a raised brow from Hornblower. The punishment for piracy in his world is death by hanging, and he wonders if it is here. If so, that says a great deal about that remark and the sort of man who would use it. Still, he doesn't voice his displeasure, merely keeps his face neutral.]

We are on course, if that is what you mean.

You are? That's good. I was wondering if I could requisition some food from you. Some rum. Gunpowder if you have any.

I won't take more than you need to get to the next island which should be, oh three days east if you have a good tailwind.

Powder I can't spare. It's hard enough to come by. [What man of His Majesty's Navy would ever surrender powder unless ordered by a superior? And, here, he had none such.] The rum -- take as much as you like. As a gift.

Stores of food, however, I expect we can come to terms about. [Those, he would not give away. Rum, he kept because it was tradition. Because the grog ration was a good motivator. But a few days' sail without it? Could be tolerated. Food, though... That he would require something in exchange for it.]

[he gives the man a long stare, contemplating his offer] If you were a navy man of any considerable right in these waters, I'd take what I wanted. But as we're both in the same boat, metaphorically speaking...come out and make terms with me. If I tried to come in there, I'd brain myself.

And if you were to try, sir, you would meet powder and steel in your attempt.

[It isn't a threat, not really. It's a simple statement. If the man will tell him he would attempt to take from him, he will reply with how he would answer such a thing.

Though, Hornblower does step out of the cabin, offering a scant bow.]

How much food do you require?

It'd be a great fight, matey.

[he steps back, shoving his hands in his pockets so has not to be an immediate threat]

However much you can spare and keep your own hale and hearty. I have about five men aboard...and I eat enough for three, but I can go without. If you're low on the food, however, I'll take a fishing pole or two in exchange for it.

[he backs up another step and reaches back with his leg, nudging a chest with clinking coins forward]

Got a small principalities worth in gold, but that won't keep you at sea.

I can part with a side of beef, a cask of hardtack, two of salted pork. A barrel of fresh water, too, if you need it.

Coin may not keep us out to sea, but it will let us resupply. And refit. [He nods a little at the masts.]

She needs a new mainsail... and a fresh coat of paint. All of which costs. [And a crew to pay. Supplies for a fair price in coin with some profit for the inconvenience...

It sounded reasonable to him.]

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Test Drive for October 2013 Apps

Horatio Hornblower | Hornblower

1 sry for tl;dr

I love tl;dr. so much.

all that reading was good for something

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