johnosevens
Member
Pretty much, yes, but by "change its shape" I mean "poke it till it unrolls." And yes, dragging the compass into my hand with my mind. It's really all stuff you could do with your thumb and index-finger.
I tell him I have some military in my family, and that my grandfather taught me the sword. If pirates are a legitimate concern, I'll keep my sword on me.
You can't actually grab anything with your mind, but you do find after a few attempts that you can poke at things--not terribly reliably, but sometimes.
I see a 1@7 Intuition, but do not yet have numbers on your persuasion or will power; any thoughts on these?
You are introduced to the other navigators over the next day, but working day shift with the Chief Navigator for the present.
--M. J. Young
johnosevens
Member
(OOCly, I'm really quite persuasive. I was on the debate team in high school, I'm a published political writer now (editor of NYRA Freedom, a monthly newsletter read on four continents), and people generally believe me, but my "persuasion" is more "manipulation" than "bluff." I'm not a good on-the-spot liar - I have no poker face - but I'm a master of the long con and getting others to do what I want. As for willpower, I can keep myself awake for days on end by force of will alone, my willpower is sufficient that I don't often give in to temptation, and peer pressure is meaningless to me. People often describe me as stubborn.)
I greet the other navigators in my usual slightly-too-polite, somewhat-foreign way.
I take my meals whenever I can, like Donald advised, and make conversation with anyone who cares to. If I hear anyone singing working songs, sea shanties, and the like, I listen in - they're a bit of a hobby of mine (1@8 Renfair Songs? *grin*).
I'll do my work diligently to the best of my abilities. No slacking, and I pay attention to whatever the chief tells me to do. When I am not on shift, I spend half of my free waking hours studying charts and maps, and the other half... goofing off, knowing me. Playing my flute, or not, wandering the ship, or not. I'm really quite restless.
When it comes time to sleep, I watch how the others handle their clothes, and do likewise with mine, even if it means sleeping in them unwashed. Gotta get used to the road sooner or later.
Before I sleep, I say my prayers to my Pagan gods, thanking Loki for the turn my fortunes have taken, Thor for protecting me on my now unending journey, Odin for the wisdom to handle myself well. The Gods Who Travel have always seen me through, so I give them my thanks, my prayers always spoken with sword in hand. They are Viking gods after all.
Because Asatru has no god of the sea that I'm aware of, and I'm eclectic anyway, I also offer a quiet prayer to Poseidon through whose realm I find myself passing, that my passage should be safe and my captain should be strong. At the end of dinner, I pour half of my mug of beer overboard as an offering to him.
In conjunction with my offering to Poseideon, I invoke my Influence Luck ability on behalf of Donald, then again on behalf of the Captain, focusing on each of them for a good ten minutes a piece.
Of course, once I notice that I can actually poke things with my mind, I keep doing it, every chance I get, till I can poke things like I mean it.
Noting the music skill; how good are you on the flute?
You're starting to get the hang of things. Your skills include Maps, Operate Small Boat, First Aid, Operate Sextant, Drafting Tools, Magnetic Compass, Telescope, and Climb Rigging (comparable to rope ladders), which you have to do at least a bit of even though Donald is keeping you low to the ground.
Of these, in which do you already have some skill, and how much? These skills will improve as part of your ordinary duties aboard the ship, at various rates.
--M. J. Young
--M. J. Young
johnosevens
Member
I am Red Cross certified for community first aid, and adult, infant, and child CPR. (high 1@'s - low 2@'s)
I have a bit of experience with sextants and drafting tools, and I own and can operate a telescope. (mid 1@'s)
Everything else I'm a rank amateur, including the flute. (I can play scales and that's about it.) (low 1@'s)
I'm going to focus on climbing the rigging and moving around on ropes, trying my level best to not be scared out of my mind, but I really can't get more than about a yard off the deck without a panic attack.
I'm putting these skills on your sheet at this point:
1@8 Medical Diagnosis T7@0
The climb skill is not yet really specialized--you've got about as good a chance of climbing anything, but when you reach professional level you'll be specialized in ropes and rigging.
1@10 First Aid/CPR T7@1
1@1 Make/Use Maps P0@0
1@1 Operate Small Boat T3@1
1@4 Operate Sextant/Astrolabe T6@1
1@6 Use Drafting Tools T6@1
1@1 Use Magnetic Compass T6@1
1@7 Use Telescope T6@2
1@2 Irish Bamboo Flute M0@0
1@1 Climb (Rigging) B1@3
Two weeks to the day after you are aboard, you are off duty around four in the afternoon and getting food in the galley when one of the deck hands comes in and announces that everyone awake is to report to stations. Donald is also at dinner; he says, "I guess I'd better find out what it's about. Finish your meal, if you like, and then get topside to navigation. By then I should know something."
--M. J. Young
johnosevens
Member
(Oh how I do love these updates! I hang on them, you know - I check these boards every half hour or so that I'm online. I guess that's kind-of sad, actually...)
As is my usual habit, I am wearing my swordbelt. Ever since Donald said the word 'pirates' its never been out of arm's reach. When the message comes down, I listen intently. By the time Donald speaks, I'm already washing down my food with a swig of beer. "Captain's not paying me to eat. If there's trouble, I belong with you and the others, or else I'm a damn shoddy assistant."
When he gets up to go, I get up to go with him.
(It occurs to me, I ought to be building up perhaps a 1@3 - 1@5-ish resistance to alcohol by now. My lack of trust in the water has led me to drinking rather more beer than I'm normally used to, so my resistance is probably slowly beginning to build up. Likewise, I've probably been suffering detox headaches from lack of caffeine over a two-week span, unless someone on board happens to have coffee...)
Ah, well, traditionally there's always been coffee (and tea) available aboard the Mary Piper. No one is saying it's good, but if you're trying to stay awake and forestall a headache, it's what people drink. Besides, the food is made by the medical department, so they will encourage you to eat and drink things that keep you running.
You follow Donald up to the navigation office; Brian is there.
"Sir," he says, "we've got trouble. There's a nasty squall moving in from the northwest, and we're going to sail right into it, pretty much no matter what we do."
He hands the telescope to Donald, who looks out the starboard hatch. "Yes, you're absolutely right, Brian. John, go wake Dooley; Brian, secure these hatches; last thing we want is a flood in the map room. There's not much we can do with this storm except ride it out and hope we can keep track of where we are."
Dooley is the other man in navigation; he shares quarters with you.
--M. J. Young
johnosevens
Member
"Right," I say, and hop to it. Open the door, down the steps, down the hall, door on the left.
If Dooley has a blanket, I try my level best to TK Pulse it off of him. Whether that works or not I'll nudge him awake. "Dooley! Wake up and get topside. There's weather, and Donald needs us all sharp." While I'm in here, I grab my heavily waterproofed black Jedi cloak and wrap myself in, then - once Dooley wakes up - get back to the deck.
By the time you return to the deck, Captain John is on the forecastle overseeing things.
"I need medics and engineers standing by; all deckhands on deck, let's turn south by southwest and see how far we can skirt this thing before it catches us. Mr. Stanis, you're on the helm for the moment, and the rest of the pilots down here directing the deck hands on the sails. I want full sail and light rudder; speed might get us past this, or at least see us through it sooner.
"Navigation, we need to know our position, and we need to know what obstacles are charted, particularly to the south. I'll need someone in the crows nest until the storm is almost upon us, and watches on the fore and aftcastles. If you need help, tap security. Mr. Balcon, consider yourself assigned to assist navigation for the moment; but we might need help with the sails and the rudder once this thing hits, so keep an ear open."
The wind is rising, and it's not terribly favorable; but the lateen sail (the triangular one that can be rotated to catch the wind from any direction) has been positioned to take the best advantage possible, and the slightly southward heading is putting you at right angles to the wind, a direction that works for the lateen sail but not for the square ones. There's lots of shouting on the deck.
"Dooley," Donald shouts, "grab a telescope and a compass and get up that mast. Brian, you take the forecastle; John, you're on the aftcastle. Report anything out there--land, ships, even wreckage--and get me an accurate angle by the compass, and get me the information as quickly as you can."
He starts pulling charts out and tossing them on the tables even as he's giving orders.
The sky is darkening.
--M. J. Young
johnosevens
Member
(Did my TK Pulse work to de-blanket Dooley?)
"Aye," and again I hop to. I scamper to the aftcastle as quick as I can and stare at the compass, trying to block out the confusion of the storm and focus on getting Donald the information he needs. If I can't make heads or tails of the compass after about a minute, I'll snap open my spyglass and have a look around - redundant information being better than nothing at that point.
I'm assuming that since you are trying to remove the blanket, your pulse is lateral to the man in the hammock; you could pull it toward his feet, but that would not pull it off the hammock; you could pull it straight up, but that would result in it falling down to the same spot. If I've mistook your intent, correct me. The skill works, but does not entirely achieve the objective.
You manage to give the blanket a sideways shift, but it clings to the man beneath it and gets the hammock rocking.
"All right," he says, "I'm getting up. Is it six o'clock already?" You inform him of the situation, and he dresses quickly, catching up to you almost before you get back to the map room.
You easily get your bearings with the compass, at least well enough for practical purposes. The ship is headed west but starting to veer south, as instructed; the storm is toward the northwest.
You grab the spyglass and scan every direction you can see. There is a raised platform which is the point from which sightings are taken. You spot what appears to be an island, southeast of your position, and note the exact heading on the compass. There's nothing else in sight.
Rushing back with that information to Donald, you find that Brian is already there with his heading on the same island, a fraction different from yours. Using the two numbers, Donald says he thinks you're both looking at this particular island, and triangulates a position on the map. "We'll see if Dooley confirms that in a moment, and then we'll take shifts on the forecastle and the crows nest for a while, watching for debris, other ships, and obstacles ahead. If you see anything, of course, you give a course correction to the pilot first so we won't hit it, then report it here."
Dooley's information confirms what you've already got.
The rain is starting to hit the deck above you.
"I'll take first watch in the crows nest," Donald says. "John, you take the forecastle. Oh, and tie yourself to something. Do you know how to tie a stout bowline?"
--M. J. Young
johnosevens
Member
(OOCly I took one of those rope-course things in high school. I can't climb worth a crud because of my acrophobia, so the coach taught me to tie knots and harnesses and belay lines instead. I got to the point where I could tie a complete rope-climbing harness in about a minute flat and belay a man twice my size on it. I'm going to ask for nothing lower than 1@8. I'm no mountain climber, but I can tie every knot in the boyscout handbook.)
It takes me a minute to remember, but I nod. "Is there rope up there already?" In case there's not, I'm already looking around for some. Note to self: take 20 feet of good quality hemp when the time comes to go.
Whether there is or not, I hustle on up there. If there's going to be rope waiting for me, I use it, if not, I grab some on the way - surely on the deck of a ship there will be a few yards of loose rope lying around somewhere! A quick half-harness (it doesn't have to catch me from a freefall, after all) and a bowline tied in the end of a rope post-hitched to ... well... to whatever on the forecastle looks solid. If there's a mast up here, woohoo, otherwise whatever looks big and heavy and bolted down.
It's a fully-rigged sailing ship, square and lateen rigged--there's rope everywhere, and to spare. You can grab something when you're there, and find a way to lash it to something quickly. You then start scanning for anything ahead--and the rain starts coming down on you, coming in almost sideways in the wind across the starboard bow.
Suddenly the bow dips sharply on the current, and a surge pours through the rail, sweeping you off your feet. You are carried to the port side rail and over it. Your harness is solid, but the lashing on the capstan lets go in the swirl.
You make a desperate grab, and catch hold of the rail as the water passes over you. Choking and sputtering, you are dangling over the ocean by one hand on a slippery wooden rail in a storm.
Are we having fun yet?
--M. J. Young
johnosevens
Member
Looks like my first genuine Verse is going to be a brief one. I don't have the strength in my arms to dangle like this for more than a few seconds, and I'm incapable of pullups, so no lifting myself over the rail, either.
I'll try my best to fling my feet under the rail up onto the deck. I'll try to time it so I move when the ship is low, letting the rising of the ship on the next wave boost me over the edge. If it works, I'll try again to hold onto those ropes. If it doesn't... my Flexibility is in the first post. In full outfit, cloak, swordbelt, and boots, I won't be able to swim worth a damn if I fall in.
You attempt to swing up onto the rail, but with the rain pouring over you and the slippery surfaces everywhere, you lose your grip.
You are plunging toward the stormy seas.
I don't actually have a swimming skill listed for you; what should it be? I realize the odds are against you, but there's always a chance.
Also, although it's only a few seconds, are you doing anything while you are falling?
--M. J. Young
johnosevens
Member
(Swimming... If I'm being nice to myself I'll give me 1@8 - I'm good, but I was never on a team or anything. I can hold my breath for two minutes.)
While I'm falling... It occurs to me in a perverse sort of way that if I were to TK Pulse the ocean itself up a couple of inches right now, it wouldn't affect me at all, but it might make the planet explode. But I like this planet. Even if it is about to kill me. *plunk*
You hit the water and start struggling to stay afloat. The seas are incredibly rough, and the rain coming down hard enough that it's not always clear whether you are above the water or not. The ship is moving past you.
Suddenly there's a splash near you; a black man tied to a stout rope has hit the water, and is swimming your direction. He reaches out a hand for you to grasp, and yells something that is lost in the noise.
--M. J. Young
He grabs your one wrist, and reaches for the other. "Grab. My. Wrists," he shouts.
Suddenly he is jerked from you, and you feel yourself being pulled out of the water, soon dangling above the ocean, swinging near and sometimes banging into the hull.
Half a dozen hands grab you and pull you back aboard. Someone takes hold of the rope still around your waist.
"Looks like you did a good job on that end, but the storm was too much for this end," he says. The men are all lashed together.
"You all right?" the black man says. "We can get you to medical, if you need it."
You're winded, and have taken on some water, but you are breathing.
--M. J. Young
johnosevens
Member
I shake my head and cough, trying to focus past how much that hurts.
"I'm fine," cough cough, "Save medical for men who are hurt." I shake the hand of the crewman who rescued me with both of mine, and - if it holds similar weight for them that it would for a sailor in our world - promise him my ration of rum for the night.
Of course, I think I'll just sit here on the deck for a couple of minutes. Get my breath. Think things out a little...
I will mention that you're still trailing the rope that did not hold to the beam to which it was tied. One of the deckhands wraps the end around a nearby post.
"Just doing my job," the man says. "You'll need some of that rum after that, I'd say. Walters, Security. I didn't get your name?"
--M. J. Young
johnosevens
Member
"John Sevenwind, Navigation. Seems our security is in good hands." I really probably could use some rum after that, now he mentions it. Alas, I am tied to a post. Speaking of which, I should probably double-check that knot, and make sure it's more solid than my first one was.
"Maybe when we get a break from this storm, I'll join you for a drink," he says, and returns to help with the sails.
The knot is quite professionally tied, in a way that would make it simple to untie from the right direction but would only make it tighter if you pull on the end that leads to you.
You've lost your telescope, of course, so you can't see far; you're also on the main deck, which is lower than the forecastle or aftcastle, so you can't see past them, either. What's your next move?
--M. J. Young
johnosevens
Member
After a week of working with it and it being with me when I was near to death, I want to see if I have an equipment vector pointing me at my telescope - I would've brought it with me had I drowned, after all. If I do, I want to use that to sight-in and try to TK Pulse it back into my hand - a sort of psionic 'Accio' if you'll pardon the reference (at this rate the first time I hit a high-magic work I might as well buy glasses and a cat).
If that works, I dry off my telescope and have a look around.
If it doesn't, I want to try another psionic ability - I want to try to use my Heightened Awareness to simulate the effect of a telescope by casting a very small area of my normal vision into very high resolution, entirely within my own mind. (yeah I'm weird enough to actually try this - if I'm telekinetic, why not?)
If neither one works, I sit there and try not to be in the way. If I didn't drop my compass in the sea, too, then I'll keep an eye on it and try to keep track of the ship's current heading relative to where we were going before.
You do not have a vector toward the telescope, at least that you can identify; you have vectors to your possessions aboard the ship, but only those that came here with you.
Quick verification: I still have this note on my spreadsheet that reads
1@7 Psychometry (This is listed on my sheet as Mag 7@5 but I wonder if it's more Psionic)
Am I correct that that is what we eventually listed as
1@10 Heightened Awareness of Surroundings P3@1 enables user to know general layout of buildings or other structures, locations of entrances and exits, and other information, without searching.
or is this something else, and if so, what? Thanks.
The next part of this post assumes that that assumption is correct; if it is not correct, I might have to rewrite something.
You attempt to give yourself telescopic vision but adjusting the image within your mind in a sort of digital zoom/enhancement pattern, but fail to do so. However, you do have the sense that this is the sort of thing you might be able to do, it's just very difficult to do right now. It might be the storm--difficult to concentrate on anything right at the moment.
--M. J. Young
johnosevens
Member
(I only saw it listed as "Heightened Awareness P3@1" with no other qualifiers, and the auto-layout function the only thing I've used it for so far - not necessarily the only thing it /can/ be used for.)
My telescope is gone, my hat and cloak are soggy (and my feather is drooping), and my compass is probably full of water, too. This sucks. As soon as it's stable enough to untie myself without falling in again, I'm going below. I'm useless up here without my equipment, and I need some rum. And some time to practice that telescopic vision thing.
You are actually close enough to a hatch that you could walk to the hatch and then untie the bowline from around your waist (a bit tight, given the combination of salt water and pulling on it, but it can be loosened) and leave the rope topside.
In any case, the storm doesn't look like it's letting up any time soon.
--M. J. Young
johnosevens
Member
Then I will indeed go below, just the way you described. I'm kinda useless on deck without functioning equipment, and I don't want anyone tripping over me.
Once I am below, I will sit cross-legged on one end of my hammock and lay out one of my journals open on the other end, far enough away that I can't read it clearly. Then I will proceed to spend the rest of the night, until I am able to sleep, trying that telescopic vision trick again every five to ten minutes, over and over again, until it works and I can read the journal clearly from that distance, or until I botch catastrophically enough to force me to stop, whichever comes first.
You spend about half an hour trying to accomplish this.
Suddenly as you make yet another attempt, your view changes; you no longer see the page, or the print, but the fiber structure of the paper.
Anything more than about ten feet away is completely out of focus, but anything closer than that you see blown up beyond recognition.
--M. J. Young
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