Icarus (Sci-fi/Time-travel|IC|Open)

by **Ameriganastan** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 4:57 pm

May 12th, 1865. Brownsville, Texas. Palmito Ranch

"You negro loving scoundrels! Have you no sense of decency!?"

The final shots of the American Civil War were being exchanged on the banks of the Rio Grande. A month earlier, General Lee had conceded the war at the courthouse in Appomattox, Virginia. The Confederacy had lost, and it was all over but the crying. That didn't seem to matter to the group fighting in a small corner of Texas.

"You damned Yankees! We already surrendered and you have the nerve to assault us? For shame!"

He stood up, gun hoisted in the air.

"We will not go down without a fight! The south will rise-!"

Standing up and screaming in the midst of battle was a bad idea. The man screaming, Sergeant Clarence Joseph Boyd, found that out the hard way as two musket balls buried themselves in his chest. He collapsed backwards, spitting up blood as he hit the ground.

"It's not fair, goddamn it. I was about to go home. God...damn...Yankees..."

The Icarus

And just like that, he was alive again...alive inside a tube, but alive. He stumbled out of said tube, trying to process exactly where he was, who these people were or what some of them were saying. He raised his fists, ready to throw hands if anyone tried something funny.

"I don't know what in the Sam Hell is going on here, but someone better explain it before I beat it out of the lot of you."

And luckily for him, some woman did explain it to him...though it made no sense. A ship that could travel in time?

"...Wait a minute. So this vessel can move through time? Like those fancy books I done read?"

Well, someone had read them and he listened. Clarence couldn't even read or write his own name. But this? This concept had promise.

"Well, alright then. Listen up, all of you. I am Sergeant Clarence Joseph Boyd of the Confederate Army. As of now, I claim this ship in the name of the Confederate States of America. You there, woman."

He motioned at Hannah.

"Take me to whoever is navigating this fancy boat. And fix me something to eat after. And if you employ any darkies in your kitchen, make sure they don't touch any of it...well, what are you waiting for, woman? I gave you an order."

by **Confederation of the Equator** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 5:18 pm

[minecraft villager sound]

by **Alcona and Hubris** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 5:43 pm

Lord William

After introducing himself and watching people leave, William just shrugged and followed. He wandered into the armory for a moment, looked at all the potential weapons and wandered out again only stopping to grab a familiar weapon, more to just to still have the choice of it in the future. The Colt Navy revolver seemed to be in far better shape than his was? or had been? William just shook his head at the thought.

He found a cabin with mens clothing and began to go through it. Though he wondered why they seemed to prefer undershirts with writing on them. What exactly was AC/DC and why were they scribed on this undershirt? Nothing was making any sense. They had no vests, apparently only a few proper shirts. Who are these people who don't even dress properly? He struggled to find something decent to wear, having only put on some work pants when he heard the scream.

Outside of the armory, a scream could be heard followed by a clattering of metal.

William dashed out, carrying a gun and a t-shirt in one hand. He turned and continued towards where he though he had made out the sound. He found himself facing the german woman bleeding and stating something was wrong with her eye.

William handed her the shirt in his hand and said "place this over the wound...." Helping her place the shirt over her injured eye he looks up and down the passage for a moment looking for some indication of where medical supplies might be.

Confederation of the Equator wrote:"Dear mother of God, baby Jesus, the Holy Spirit, what the fuck are you doing, woman?!" The sight of someone who was covering her own bleeding eye was not the most fortunate to behold when one's sanity was already in check due to the very situation that engulfed them, and such was this the case that even the expressionless façade of the average mobster dropped, replaced by a look of mild horror.

William looks at the italian standing there and states, "Go see if you can find Miss Brown or the french captain...we need to get her to the infirmary immediately...but I don't know where that is." He returns his gaze to his sudden patient. "Well Ma'm it appears you are my first patient in the 22nd century" this is stated with his best bedside manner, a calm friendly voice.

He pushes his own colt revolver down through the belt on his pants and begins to wish he had a proper dressing for the wound. "So tell me Madam what exactly happened?" He looked at her carefully, trying to judge how much blood is seeping into the cloth.

by **Sarderia** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 5:47 pm

Johannes de Spielman

Ameriganastan wrote:"Well, alright then. Listen up, all of you. I am Sergeant Clarence Joseph Boyd of the Confederate Army. As of now, I claim this ship in the name of the Confederate States of America. You there, woman."

He could not believe what he'd heard. Jan had just left for the crew quarters for a moment, and he was greeted by a pirate, of all kinds of people, the moment he returned. First Englishman, then pirates. The bloody bastard had the gall to order around the only person who knew where and when they are, treating the vessel like his own personal travelling sloop, and the other people his servants.

"Boy, are you right in the head?" Jan shouted. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Back in when I'm from they would put a bullet on a pirate's skull before he could even open his mouth. Do you want me to put one in yours as well?" He drew the small Queen Anne's flintlock from his pocket, and pointed it towards Clarence Joseph Boyd. The gun was empty; he haven't loaded the gunpowder or oiled the flintlock yet, but he hoped that it would at least make the pirate back down. If he wouldn't... there's always the rapier.

by **Dyelli Beybi** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 6:04 pm

Hannah Brown

Talchyon wrote:The large metal room
Nawa Tatsuaki Ukita

"Ears. Ringing," was all Tatsuaki said.

Hannah frowned at the man. This wasn't the same reaction that most of the others were having. Was there cause for concern? She didn't really know and there was nobody to ask, "Umm... do you have a headache as well?" she ventured, "I think there should be some medication for that. I think I passed a med bay on this floor when I was first exploring," she ventured.

There were other questions though.

Grenartia wrote:
"Hello, all. My name is Elizabeth Carlotta Jones. I lived from 1861 to 1912, when the ship I was on sank. In my lifetime, I was something of a polymath and tinkerer. If I may be so bold, I noticed that we have several gentlemen here of an Oriental persuasion and tongue, as well as an Italian, someone speaking German, one speaking Dutch, and even someone speaking Classical Latin. And yet, we can all understand each other as if we were speaking English. How is that possible?" she asked.

"Pleased to meet you, Elizabeth," Hannah replied as she tried to commit the other woman's name and face to memory, "I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that one with any certainty," she replied, somewhat apologetically, "It's not something I've ever experienced before though I was told the nanites would give me to speak in different languages. They are ummm..." how did you explain nanites to someone from the early 20th century? "They are tiny but advanced machines which, I believe, were injected into us before we woke up. Not something I would have chosen to do if anyone had given me the option but I won't deny that they are coming in handy right now."

She paused, considering if her advice would be appreciated, eventually deciding that she probably wasn't the most qualified to be dishing any out at this stage. She'd barely been awake any longer than these people! "Take a look around this place if you like. This ship is quite extraordinary and, no doubt, there will be more discoveries to make as we look about it. Find a room for yourself, find some clothes you feel more comfortable in, then, when you've got your bearings a bit, we can all sit down and have something to eat and I can tell you a bit more about what I've been asked to do."

Voxija wrote:Cornelia Quinta

That left clothing. Although Cornelia wanted to go to the quarters and find some other clothes than this drab gray shirt attached to trousers, she felt like she should introduce herself first, as the others had done.

The Roman clapped her hands, to bring all attention to herself. "I am Cornelia Quinta, proud citizen of Rome. I was born AUC 792, and *gulp* died AUC 826. But I don't... I don't think I died. I don't know any of your years, too. Do they still measure years by Rome's founding when you're from?"

"Oh gosh..." Hannah gave Cornelia a surprised look, "Ah... I have no idea what the date is ab urbe condita... we mostly use the anno domini dating system now. It's based on the reported date of birth of..." she trailed off momentarily, seeming to be wrestling with something internally, "... Since the date believed to be the date of birth of Jesus of Nazereth, which I think was during the reign of your Emperor Augustus. Is he familiar? If he was before or during your time we can figure out how long it has been for you, roughly, from that."

For a moment Hannah was silent, "I'm so sorry, Cornelia. I hope that your child grew up and lived a long and happy life and we can do our best to find that out for you. Where I came from, children are very special. I never had any; I was always so busy trying to make sure that everyone had enough to survive. Then when I finally found a man I thought I was going to be happy with... " she motioned at herself, then rolled her eyes up at the ceiling, "I ended up waking up in here put a bit of a dent in my plans for life!" she finished flippantly, neatly stepping away from the tragedy of her own life... which was when one of the other sleepers interrupted her.

Ameriganastan wrote:May 12th, 1865. Brownsville, Texas. Palmito Ranch
...
"Take me to whoever is navigating this fancy boat. And fix me something to eat after. And if you employ any darkies in your kitchen, make sure they don't touch any of it...well, what are you waiting for, woman? I gave you an order."

Sarderia wrote:
Johannes de Spielman

He could not believe what he'd heard. Jan had just left for the crew quarters for a moment, and he was greeted with a pirate, of all kinds of people, the moment he returned. First Englishman, then pirates. The bloody bastard had the gall to order around the only person who knew where and when they are, treating the vessel like his own personal travelling sloop, and the other people his servants.

"Boy, are you right in the head?" Jan shouted. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Back in when I'm from they would put a bullet on a pirate's skull before he could even open his mouth. Do you want me to put one in yours as well?" He drew the small Queen Anne's flintlock from his pocket, and pointed it towards Clarence Joseph Boyd. The gun was empty; he haven't loaded the gunpowder or oiled the flintlock yet, but he hoped that it would at least make the pirate back down. If he wouldn't... there's always the rapier.

Hannah's eyes lit up at the order from the Sergeant, though it wasn't anger, she had been expecting a reaction like that sooner. Heck, this might be fun... though the Dutchman jumped in first, which instantly elevated him in her opinion, "Thank you Sir," she said, looking up at Johannes, "But please lower the gun. This is a confusing time for all of us and I don't want anyone to get hurt over a misunderstanding... and I also took the precaution of arming myself."

"Sir," she turned back to the Sergeant, taking on a tone of mock servility, "You might need to help me with this one, curse my total lack of education! But it looks like I'm the one with a gun," she glanced significantly at the grip of the pistol-type weapon she had in a shoulder holster, "Not to mention the good gentleman with me. So I'd ask you to politely reconsider any claims of sovereignty over my ship." It wasn't really her ship, but she had woken up first so she supposed that was as good a claim as any, "And while I'd love to fix you something to eat," she continued in the same mocking tone, "Given my possession of the aforementioned firearm and the fact that that Frenchman was so disparaging of my cooking, which completely wrecked my self-confidence, I feel it's probably better if you fix me something to eat."

She couldn't help herself... "Toto," she said to Sergeant Boyd, her tone deadly serious, "I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore." Pity she was the only one able to get the joke.

Confederation of the Equator wrote:He heard a particularly unpleasant scream, the source of which was very, very close. That was it, he knew it, he fucking knew it! None of the people with him looked remotely normal, it was only a matter of time until...
"Dear mother of God, baby Jesus, the Holy Spirit, what the fuck are you doing, woman?!" The sight of someone who was covering her own bleeding eye was not the most fortunate to behold when one's sanity was already in check due to the very situation that engulfed them, and such was this the case that even the expressionless façade of the average mobster dropped, replaced by a look of mild horror.

But before she had a chance to have any more fun at the poor man's expense there came a scream, followed by yelling. Great. "Huckleberry Finn," she addressed the Sergeant, "You'll need to put your crisis pants on right now because you're coming with me to figure out what that was," she said, her tone turning from mocking to serious in the blink of an eye... then right back again, "Mostly so that if it turns out we're under attack by giant space-crabs I can throw you to them first and make a speedy exit."

It was actually because someone who had tried to claim the ship couldn't be trusted anywhere near the armoury, but she wasn't about to tell him that. "I would appreciate your company as well, Sir," she added to Johannes, figuring he seemed like the sort she could trust, "if you wouldn't mind. If any of the rest of you have any medical knowledge or combat experience, please follow me as well."

by **Sudbrazil** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 6:12 pm

A Rifle Behind Every Blade of Grass

Miyamoto Otoya, most honourable lieutenant of His Imperial Majesty’s Army, was normally not very paranoid. But these were not normal circumstances. Indeed, given what he had seen and heard, this was more like a fever dream. There were more and more people popping from the mysterious coffins, it was only a matter of time before some vengeful Chinaman he had shot came out of it. And so, having relieved the wardrobe from some of its kimono and the closest thing he could find to his old uniform, Miyamoto Otoya locked himself in his room, glued a strongly-worded sign against trespassers at its door, and secured the perimeter by taping a grenade next to his door in such a way that the furniture would shield him from any blast. As he examined his room, he listed off the possible threats. There was the Korean man, who might hold grudges from the occupation, and many gaijin about – maybe some Briton or American was still angry about the war, however it may have ended.

Finally, he decided that hiding behind the rather thick door would not greatly reduce his chances of being backstabbed. He checked the security of his room one last time, then paused to check the window he had neglected for so long, maybe because it was mostly pitch black.

So that was what she meant by travelling through space.

Miyamoto’s musings were interrupted as a distant scream rang through the halls. Seizing his revolver and donning his uniform he ran down to where some Italian was swearing at a bloodied woman while a gathering crowd tended to her. Of course, it had to be a woman.

“What happened here?” bellowed the officer with his hands on his belt, “Where is the infirmary?”

by **Bingellia** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 6:13 pm

Giovanni Caliara

There were people from the past, and people from the future. What knowledge there was to learn, places to see, food to eat, and exotic people to meet. It was as that Giovanni finally got the voyage he had wanted from the French Crown.

Ameriganastan wrote:"Well, alright then. Listen up, all of you. I am Sergeant Clarence Joseph Boyd of the Confederate Army. As of now, I claim this ship in the name of the Confederate States of America. You there, woman."

He motioned at Hannah.

"Take me to whoever is navigating this fancy boat. And fix me something to eat after. And if you employ any darkies in your kitchen, make sure they don't touch any of it...well, what are you waiting for, woman? I gave you an order."

And yet, it would seem that even the future held ignorant ingrates, including that still committed piratical acts. The gall of an uneducated peasant who could barely speak his own language trying to trying to seize control of the vessel infuriated Caliara.

"Ignorant cur!" He shouted out before another fellow, now dressed in what was at the crew quarters, returned with a pistol and a sword.

Sarderia wrote:"Boy, are you right in the head?" Jan shouted. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Back in when I'm from they would put a bullet on a pirate's skull before he could even open his mouth. Do you want me to put one in yours as well?"

It also seemed that the signorina was capable of handling herself in these kind of situations. What was the future like, considering it implied the Earth he would have know was gone even before the destruction of what she and another man aboard knew.

"I advise you listen to the Signorina, cur," He added, "Lest she repay your hospitality in kind."

by **Voxija** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 6:42 pm

Cornelia Quinta

Cornelia took a while to digest Hannah's explanation of the dating system. "Jesus of Nazareth... the leader of that death cult?" Cornelia's husband, Aemilius Illyricus, quite enjoyed seeing Christians mauled by lions in gladiatorial games, although Cornelia preferred a good chariot race herself. "Augustus... only a few emperors ago. Maybe a couple decades before I was born," Cornelia muttered to herself. That means everyone in here was born one to two thousand years after the reign of Augustus. All of the other people here were from the far, far future indeed. Cornelia could barely imagine such large time scales. And to be using a calendar based on the date of birth of the leader of a burgeoning Judean cult... times had changed very much indeed. Although Cornelia did not know when she was, Hannah didn't seem to know, either.

Oh, Hannah. Although Cornelia hadn't heard much, Hannah'd seemed to have a rough life. No children, no husband, and being too busy trying to help everyone survive to be happy. And it seemed that Hannah had suffered the same fate Cornelia had, that of dying and waking up here. Cornelia knew that Hannah didn't want to talk further, so the Roman walked over to the quarters and looked for clothes.

Cornelia found an empty room, one that was next to another room with a sign on its door that warned trespassers to keep away. Strange. It was in some complicated script, nothing like Latin, but Cornelia could read it just fine. Maybe it was because of the same sort of godly power, or maybe just machines from the far, far future, that helped her understand the different languages the other people were talking in.

In the room, Cornelia found more barbarian clothes. No civilized tunics or stolas here. Cornelia sighed, and pulled on a long-sleeved shirt, some brown trousers, and the sturdiest shoes she could find. Since when waking up, her hair had been let down, Cornelia took some time to do her hair up and look like a civilized woman again. When she was done, Cornelia sat upon the bed. At least beds were the same.

A scream ripped through the walls, and Cornelia ducked under the bed. Cornelia was a coward at heart, the result of a sheltered rich woman's upbringing, and she didn't want to face whatever danger had led someone to scream. So, Cornelia Quinta kept herself away from action and interaction.

by **Europa Undivided** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 7:18 pm

Jean-Luc Lafayette

Jean-Luc had finally completed his changing when he heard a scream reverberate out of the armory. He had checked in there earlier, taking a pair of pistols for himself as good measure before going to the room that he had set for himself as his sleeping quarters. The ship reminded him a bit of the Aquitaine, though this was clearly far more advanced and sophisticated than anything the nations of man could hope to produce in the 22nd century. Now, he had gotten rid of the jumpsuit entirely, instead wearing a brown sweater inside his maroon leather jacket, and finally combed his hair to a state of order in contrast to its exploded state from earlier.

It was almost getting pleasant in here, too, what with the smell and sound of Jay's cooking wafting through the hallways. It was just too bad that someone got themselves into trouble so soon after they had finally wrapped things up in the pod room.

"For God's sake...", Jean rolled his eyes as he walked back towards the armory, the source of the scream. For all he knew, someone could have stabbed themself in the ass with one of the bayonets, or discharged a gun without knowing what it was... though there wasn't any sound of a gun going off, so it was probably a case of a bayonet being stuck in a pair of buttocks-

He pushes his own colt revolver down through the belt on his pants and begins to wish he had a proper dressing for the wound. "So tell me Madam what exactly happened?" He looked at her carefully, trying to judge how much blood is seeping into the cloth.

Jean-Luc had heard the commotion in the pod room; something about piracy and the Confederate States of America. Huh... those are only good for surrendering.

Either way, he walked into the armory just to see Lord William, the Italian mobster, and the German woman all inside, though the latter appeared to be bleeding out of her eye. He had caught William's instruction for the woman to be brought to the infirmary... a place that Jean did not where it was.

Jean-Luc wheeled back towards Hannah, scratching his head as he started to explain what just happened. "Fraü here is bleeding out of her face.", he said, pointing into the armory. Remembering the knives that had fallen on the floor, he gave out a sigh. "It's a freak accident with the knives. Where's the medbay, Hannah?"

He looked behind her to see the Dutchman and a bunch of new arrivals; it appears that people were waking up in an accelerated pace.

by **Demencia** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 7:26 pm

Miriam von Donnersberg

People's natural reaction was apparently to rush to the aid of someone who was injured, which Miriam could respect if she wasn't enduring the worst pain she ever felt for a second time. Someone began to start trying to tend to the wound, and while she did put up a mild bit of resistance, she wasn't able to muster enough strength to push him away. "Mir geht es gut..." she said, clearly not being ok. "Ich mußte es machen... Ich mußte meine Ehre wiederherstellen."

She wasn't sure how many people would understand why she did it, but she felt a sense of relief that it was done. "Diese Schande liegt bei mir. Ich muß es verkraften." The fact that people seemed to think it was an accident might be a clue that they wouldn't understand her choice though, that was a bridge to cross later. Right now her main goal was to not bleed to death so soon after supposedly waking up from the dead.

by **Ameriganastan** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 7:51 pm

Dyelli Beybi wrote:[

Sarderia wrote:
Johannes de Spielman

He could not believe what he'd heard. Jan had just left for the crew quarters for a moment, and he was greeted with a pirate, of all kinds of people, the moment he returned. First Englishman, then pirates. The bloody bastard had the gall to order around the only person who knew where and when they are, treating the vessel like his own personal travelling sloop, and the other people his servants.

"Boy, are you right in the head?" Jan shouted. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Back in when I'm from they would put a bullet on a pirate's skull before he could even open his mouth. Do you want me to put one in yours as well?" He drew the small Queen Anne's flintlock from his pocket, and pointed it towards Clarence Joseph Boyd. The gun was empty; he haven't loaded the gunpowder or oiled the flintlock yet, but he hoped that it would at least make the pirate back down. If he wouldn't... there's always the rapier.

Hannah's eyes lit up at the order from the Sergeant, though it wasn't anger, she had been expecting a reaction like that sooner. Heck, this might be fun... though the Dutchman jumped in first, which instantly elevated him in her opinion, "Thank you Sir," she said, looking up at Johannes, "But please lower the gun. This is a confusing time for all of us and I don't want anyone to get hurt over a misunderstanding... and I also took the precaution of arming myself."

"Sir," she turned back to the Sergeant, taking on a tone of mock servility, "You might need to help me with this one, curse my total lack of education! But it looks like I'm the one with a gun," she glanced significantly at the grip of the pistol-type weapon she had in a shoulder holster, "Not to mention the good gentleman with me. So I'd ask you to politely reconsider any claims of sovereignty over my ship." It wasn't really her ship, but she had woken up first so she supposed that was as good a claim as any, "And while I'd love to fix you something to eat," she continued in the same mocking tone, "Given my possession of the aforementioned firearm and the fact that that Frenchman was so disparaging of my cooking, which completely wrecked my self-confidence, I feel it's probably better if you fix me something to eat."

She couldn't help herself... "Toto," she said to Sergeant Boyd, her tone deadly serious, "I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore." Pity she was the only one able to get the joke.

"Kansas? You're from the Kansas territory? I knew it! This is some kind of Yankee trap! It explains why you're friendly with these foreign types and..."

Bingellia wrote:Giovanni Caliara

There were people from the past, and people from the future. What knowledge there was to learn, places to see, food to eat, and exotic people to meet. It was as that Giovanni finally got the voyage he had wanted from the French Crown.

Ameriganastan wrote:"Well, alright then. Listen up, all of you. I am Sergeant Clarence Joseph Boyd of the Confederate Army. As of now, I claim this ship in the name of the Confederate States of America. You there, woman."

He motioned at Hannah.

"Take me to whoever is navigating this fancy boat. And fix me something to eat after. And if you employ any darkies in your kitchen, make sure they don't touch any of it...well, what are you waiting for, woman? I gave you an order."

And yet, it would seem that even the future held ignorant ingrates, including that still committed piratical acts. The gall of an uneducated peasant who could barely speak his own language trying to trying to seize control of the vessel infuriated Caliara.

"Ignorant cur!" He shouted out before another fellow, now dressed in what was at the crew quarters, returned with a pistol and a sword.
Sarderia wrote:"Boy, are you right in the head?" Jan shouted. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Back in when I'm from they would put a bullet on a pirate's skull before he could even open his mouth. Do you want me to put one in yours as well?"

It also seemed that the signorina was capable of handling herself in these kind of situations. What was the future like, considering it implied the Earth he would have know was gone even before the destruction of what she and another man aboard knew.

"I advise you listen to the Signorina, cur," He added, "Lest she repay your hospitality in kind."

"Whatever you're supposed to be. If you won't surrender peacefully I'll have to-"

He reached for his back, expecting to find his trusty musket, 'Sweet Delilah' as he'd named her. She'd saw him through the entire war right up until his death at Palmito. But he found nothing.

"Son of a...where's my rifle? I was holding her when...I dropped her when I got shot...son of a bitch."

That just left him with his equally trusty saber. And while 'Bloody Beth' had gutted plenty of Yankees during his fighting, he doubted it would save him against three opponents, two of them armed. Very reluctantly, he held his hands up in surrender.

"Well, you've got me beat for now, Yankee. I yield."

by **Alcona and Hubris** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 8:04 pm

Demencia wrote: "Mir geht es gut..." she said, clearly not being ok. "Ich mußte es machen... Ich mußte meine Ehre wiederherstellen."

William huffed at this, he had delt with one or more morbid and even self harming patients before. Although John Crawford had been more trying to kill himself with drink out of guilt then actual physical harm. He changed his manner and responded with a calm tone and authority as had been demonstrated by Dr. Bell so many times before.

"No you are not alright...and you will refrain from injuring yourself any further..." He had no idea what time period the woman was from but she had mentioned the Kingdom of Germany, which made no real sense since Germany now was a patchwork of princedom's...though a lot less since the Prussians had smacked so many of them down...so obviously not historically recent woman. "...as I doubt if either God or your Konig would appreciate your actions...whatever your burden may be." Really he wished he had a good member of the Presbytery or even one of those Baptist preachers here right now. Shame and guilt were not topics he could do a good job fixing himself.

He looks past Captain Lafayette and towards Hannah. "We need to triage this wound...and I would recommend locking down the armory to prevent further incidents of self harm."

by **Nagakawa** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 10:18 pm

Kang Jae-hyun

An elaborate lunch spread had been completed by the time the album’s last track had concluded and the radio faded into silence. With some difficulty, seeing as he was alone, Jay carried the food out into the dining hall adjacent to the kitchen and laid it all out on the table with a boyish grin of pride and accomplishment plastered across his face. This was the most food he had ever cooked in a single sitting, and it had turned out quite a lot better than he had expected.

Aside from the twenty bowls of oyakodon, chicken browned to perfection and drenched in a hearty mix of half-liquid egg and miso paste, Jay had also prepared a wide array of Korean side dishes- thin slices of egg tofu in soy sauce, onions pickled in rice wine and vinegar, spicy cucumber slices, blanched bean sprouts, and steamed eggplants seasoned with soy sauce. To finish off everything, he’d made a big pot of sundubu jjigae- spicy tofu soup seasoned with gochujang.

This, Jay concluded, was probably enough to feed 25 or so people, assuming everybody had the same appetite as he did, though oddly enough, it didn’t seem like anybody was hungry or interested in having themselves anything to eat. It probably wasn’t all that extraordinary, considering how shocked and unsettled everybody was, but still, Jay found it a little odd.

Most people don’t usually turn down free food.

Taking a seat at the empty table, Jay exhaled in satisfaction and wiped the sweat from his brow. His body reeked of kitchen grease. A shower was in order, perhaps after he’d eaten. But first, he’d wait for at least some other people to show up.

His thoughts began to wander. How sure, Jay asked himself, are you that what you are experiencing right now is reality? Was it just fantasy, the workings of a fevered mind unable to calm itself down in the night? Descartes, he recalled, had written about this before. A hypothesis he’d studied in some philosophy module long ago, something about dreams being indistinguishable from reality.

And what of death? If Hannah was indeed telling the truth, then it was likely that the people of the future had found some way to cheat death, at least some of the time. And not only cheating death at that, but restoring health.

Restoring youth.

For the first time in a long time, he felt...

How silly.

Jay still missed his mother. It had been over seven years since she had died, after a steady decline that saw her plugged to a dialysis machine more and more days of the week. Over eleven years since the only grandparent he knew had died, without warning, in his sleep. Did the people of the future have a way to resurrect these people too? And more importantly, did they wish to be resurrected? And what about her? Choi Yong-hui. If she was also in here somewhere... did she also wish to be resurrected too, only to meet the slob she had dumped after four years of being together?

Back to the ship. The Icarus. Did somebody have a purpose for bringing him here? Him, and all the other people too. Hannah has said something about fixing timelines. Whatever that was supposed to mean, Jay just wasn’t quite sure if that was the sort of thing he was cut out for. But someone must have seen it in him to bother putting his body in this ship, reversing it back to his younger, healthier days, and bringing him back from the dead. Maybe it was just a fluke? Or maybe this was the afterlife that everybody experienced, after all? Meaning...

“Holy shit, what’s that noise?”

Away from the kitchen, Jay soon became aware of the sound of a commotion. It was coming from somewhere near to the kitchen, perhaps just a couple of corridors down. A few voices he’d heard before, in the past few moments he’d been on the ship. Many he didn’t recognise.

And so he got up and zipped over in the direction of the noise. In the direction of the armoury, where he found a bunch of people crowded around, trying to get a good look at what was going on. There was the sound of a woman shrieking and wailing in German. Gingerly, Jay pushed past some of the people at the back to get a better look of what was happening inside.

“Hey guys, l-lunch is ready”, he said, his voice drowned out by the sound of the clamouring. “It’s- holy shit!!”

...

by **Talchyon** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 11:44 pm

The large metal room
Nawa Tatsuaki Ukita

The sounds were gradually getting better in his hearing. Clearer. As each moment went by, the noises of the people around him were less metallic and painful to hear. Whatever had happened to him - be it the Mongol magic or the sun goddess' disfavor - it was lifting. Gradually.

That still didn't help the gainyo able to understand what everyone was actually meaning. He could easily make out the syllables, sure. And yes, they did correspond to real words that he could also understand. But what was a "med bay"? Or a "time ship"? That was the question others around him were asking.

Answering the question this woman asked - this one who was giving the instructions ("Hahn-naw?") - was another issue. Headache? At the mention of the word, the gainyo began to understand. Simply nodding, he let that suffice. Now was the time for observation. As a prisoner in this dream, he was astonished at all the numbers people were saying, as if they meant something. Some used bigger numbers. Some used smaller. What it meant, he had no idea.

People began to move out on their own, drifting to rooms, asking more questions or challenging the woman for the rights to the "ship" that she called this place - though it looked like no ship Tatsuaki had ever heard of - Tatsuaki tried to figure things out. The Mongols were gone, that much was clear. That had been a dream too, apparently. This place was likewise a dream. But a dream that had a very realistic feel to it. The ringing sound was getting somewhat less. His head still hurt, though. Perhaps this Hahn-naw lady, even if she was a gaijin, knew something about medicine. Herbs. Salves. She seemed to know something about where they were. Perhaps she was a medicine woman. She would be good to speak to alone.

He was not so sure what to make of the others. Everyone spoke in curious gaijin tongue, or several different ones. And yet he knew them! Or at least, he could make out what they were saying. It was a strain to do so, and that didn't help his head feel any better. Steadying his breathing, Tatsuaki remembered that it was dishonorable to show yourself weak, especially before a group of unknown people. Some of the people made him very curious - the lady from the place called Rome. He had heard a legend of Rome before - ancient tales brought by traders that were astonishing. White columns of marble. Very sturdy roads, solid enough for thousands of horses and chariots. Slave armies with tattoos on their foreheads. For gaijin, the stories were impressive. Powerful, even if legendary. But those tales were from long ago, and what the traders told now came from other lands. Was there any truth to this place? Tatsuaki memorized the Roman lady's face - Cornelia was her name. He wanted to speak to her later.

The man who rushed to defend the medicine woman Hahn-naw was a familiar sort to Tatsuaki. He recognized a loyal soldier or even commander when he saw one. As a gainyo, he had recruited several samurai to give security in his lands. Maybe he could recruit this man as well.

The rest, he had no idea about. Even those who looked Japanese didn't act Japanese. Their weapons were strange metallic objects with a handle and a pipe. Bewildered at what people were considering weapons, he wanted to ask. But then, as one commotion got done, another got started.

Tatsuaki didn't like taking orders or suggestions from a woman. It was not proper, and men who did so were not proper rulers. But if this medicine woman was the wealthy owner of the ship as she had claimed, that meant she was their captor and could do as she wished. Tatsuaki bowed his head to fate and followed along. He spoke to Hahn-naw and the man who had called himself Johannes, the honorable samurai. "I will come." It was a simple statement that revealed nothing. Tatsuaki had much to reveal, but now was not the time.

by **Dyelli Beybi** » Fri Jan 22, 2021 3:57 am

Hannah Brown

Europa Undivided wrote:Jean-Luc Lafayette
...

Jean-Luc wheeled back towards Hannah, scratching his head as he started to explain what just happened. "Fraü here is bleeding out of her face.", he said, pointing into the armory. Remembering the knives that had fallen on the floor, he gave out a sigh. "It's a freak accident with the knives. Where's the medbay, Hannah?"

He looked behind her to see the Dutchman and a bunch of new arrivals; it appears that people were waking up in an accelerated pace.

Alcona and Hubris wrote:...

He looks past Captain Lafayette and towards Hannah. "We need to triage this wound...and I would recommend locking down the armory to prevent further incidents of self harm."

"Head down the hall towards the stairs. Last door on the right," Hannah replied to Jean and Lord William, "You are a doctor I trust? I have some experience with dealing with injuries... call me if you need a second pair of hands. I'll be right with you."

He was right, of course. In retrospect she should have kept the armoury locked off until she had a good handle on everyone's behaviour... but then again, she wasn't their captor, or their mother! This wasn't really on her. Her boots rang out on the floor as she hurried over to the armoury door. There was a panel on the wall, which looked like it could be configured to use a pin pad, though she couldn't see any way to put a new code in. She looked at it, then ran her fingers around the panel, searching for a front piece she might be able to pry up... nothing. "Computer?" she ventured after a few moments.

"Yes Ms. Brown?" the computer's nasal tones echoed from a speaker somewhere above her, causing Hannah to jump, startled.

"Shit... sorry... you startled me. Can you speak from anywhere in the ship?"

"Yes, Ms Brown."

"Huh," Hannah hadn't realised that, "Okay. I don't suppose you know how to lock the armoury do you? This panel is... well it isn't giving me many clues."

The door, that had been standing open with Hannah right next to it, abruptly slid shut, "It is now locked," the computer informed her.

"Oh... that was surprisingly easy," Hannah stepped back from the panel, "Keep it locked until I say otherwise. Even if one of the others wants it open."

"Of course Ms Brown," the computer acknowledged, before adding, "The other people on this ship have not been configured as crew members. I will assist them where necessary but their commands will not be registered."

"Huh... okay," Hannah hadn't realised that either, "Well good for now. Once this nonsense is over we'll get everything set up properly... Thanks."

It had been a little since she'd spoken to the Confederate Sergeant, though as she made her way back towards the ship's medical bay, she stopped for a moment, addressing what he'd said earlier.

Ameriganastan wrote:"Whatever you're supposed to be. If you won't surrender peacefully I'll have to-"

He reached for his back, expecting to find his trusty musket, 'Sweet Delilah' as he'd named her. She'd saw him through the entire war right up until his death at Palmito. But he found nothing.

"Son of a...where's my rifle? I was holding her when...I dropped her when I got shot...son of a bitch."

That just left him with his equally trusty saber. And while 'Bloody Beth' had gutted plenty of Yankees during his fighting, he doubted it would save him against three opponents, two of them armed. Very reluctantly, he held his hands up in surrender.

"Well, you've got me beat for now, Yankee. I yield."

She didn't trust him, but she could sympathise with the man's confusion, "The war is over," she said, "For me it was over 250 years before I was born. There's nothing you can do about it now." She didn't say that he'd lost. That would become pretty obvious soon and she wasn't here to stick the boot in, "You aren't a prisoner, Sergeant. You're a free man until you decide to do something stupid like try to draw on me... which brings me neatly to the other point. I'm sorry you got dumped in a strange future beyond your understanding. I'm not going to do anything stupid like demand you treat to me like a man of my time would without you even knowing how much things have changed, that wouldn't be fair on you, but I am going to say I'm in charge around here unless the rest of you people decide you can find someone better."

She patted him lightly on the shoulder, her right hand drifting slightly towards her weapon as she did, half-expecting him to try something when she got within range, "If it helps, try imagining me with a moustache," she added with a cheeky wink, before heading in the medical bay where the others were taking the self-mutilating German woman.

Just as she was entering, the AI decided to announce it's presence to the group with Miriam, "Hello," it said, in it's rather nasal, masculine voice, "You are experiencing a medical emergency. How may I be of assistance?"

Great. She hadn't had a chance to explain the talking computer yet... "The ship talks as well." Hannah jumped in before anyone had a chance to question the disembodied voice, "Just accept it for now... Lord William, if you need another pair of hands, say it now. If you need any piece of equipment, ask and the ship will tell you where it is. If you don't need me, I am going to move everyone else out of your way so you can do your thing," she said, twirling her hands in the air then pointing in the direction of the staircase - a clear signal of which direction she wanted everyone to go.

by **Europa Undivided** » Fri Jan 22, 2021 8:01 am

Jean-Luc Lafayette

"We need to triage this wound...and I would recommend locking down the armory to prevent further incidents of self harm."

There wouldn't be any need for Jean to comment on the locking down of the armory, as the door shut all by itself as soon as Hannah told the artificial consciousness residing within the ship's computers to do so. The Icarus' AI was another wonder of technology; the vessels of the time that he and Hannah came from had some kind of intelligences in their computer systems, but not an advanced, state of the art artificial intelligence that displayed such eloquence like this one.

“Hey guys, l-lunch is ready”, he said, his voice drowned out by the sound of the clamouring. “It’s- holy shit!!”

They were headed towards the medbay with the German woman in tow when their volunteer cook came in. Jay immediately expressed his shock at the scene, though Jean waved his hands at the man. "Hey, nothing to see here, just another freak accident... or not.", he then motioned with his head towards the armory, which was now locked shut. "I think we should keep the knives in a separate containers instead of hanging them on cabinets... someone else could get hurt..."

Jean trailed off a bit, not sure what to say next. That is, until he sniffed at the air, and caught the scent of the hearty meal that Jay had cooked up. He was visibly gladdened by the wafting aroma of okayodon and soy sauce and all the other dishes that Jay had prepared.

"Now I just realized it...", Jean said, rubbing his stomach. "I'm famished." Looking over at the gathered entourage of individuals, he then cleared his throat and spoke. "As my friend had just said right now, we should give the doctor space to work on the patient. And lunch is ready so," he motioned towards the mess hall. "I can already tell that it's good as it gets."

Jean turned towards Jay. "Next time, I'll help you with cooking. How's that sound?" He said that last part with a gesture of putting his hands in his pockets; a close look would see a little golden light in his eyes; it was the look of someone that really liked food.

Jean-Luc is feeling extra friendly today, and he does not know why.

by **Sarderia** » Fri Jan 22, 2021 11:33 am

Johannes de Spielman

Dyelli Beybi wrote:"The war is over," she said, "For me it was over 250 years before I was born. There's nothing you can do about it now."

"You aren't a prisoner, Sergeant. You're a free man until you decide to do something stupid like try to draw on me... which brings me neatly to the other point. I'm sorry you got dumped in a strange future beyond your understanding. I'm not going to do anything stupid like demand you treat to me like a man of my time would without you even knowing how much things have changed, that wouldn't be fair on you, but I am going to say I'm in charge around here unless the rest of you people decide you can find someone better."

Jan scoffed. "I would have preferred we tie him up and throw him overboard, as how we normally handle pirates," he said to Hannah, before glancing at Lord William. "But there has been enough bloody accidents for tonight. After all, this ship... does not float on water."

He had seen the massive, blue-green globe outside his quarter's window. He could recognize the landmasses from his old sailing maps; the vast New World, on the distance, and Europe, a more familiar sight, nearer to the ship. He had never imagined that the Earth could be that colorful; the globe at Bantam's Captain quarters was just a large wooden ball with a patchwork of brown, dusty maps - most of them incomplete - sticked all over it. The space around was dark, yet streams of stars and glowing mists of many colors decorated it like an artist's palette spilled into empty canvas.

He followed Jean-Luc and Jae-Hyun to the Kitchen. "I have no clue of what orbit was, until I realized that we are not on Earth anymore," he said to the Captain. "Johannes de Spielman... I have introduced myself before," he stopped, thinking of Anglicizing his usual nickname. "John for short."

"You knew Hannah," he continued. "Which meant you came from... ages ahead of my time. I remembered vaguely dying. It was painful; wounds all over my legs, searing pain on my chest. And I- we suddenly woke up, like it's nothing at all. Perchance you knew what has brought us here, instead of afterlife? Some device at your time, perhaps?"

by **Demencia** » Fri Jan 22, 2021 1:32 pm

Miriam von Donnersberg

It was definitely seeming like people were not going to be understanding of her actions. It didn't really matter, Miriam didn't need their approval. "Ich hatte mein Auge zu Lebzeiten verloren, wohingegen andere ihrer Leben verloren hatten. Die Metalldose hatte es wiederhergestellt, obwohl das nicht ich bin. Keiner von euch seid jene Unschuldigen, aber hier bin ich. Mein Auge ist einen unverständlich niedriger Preis vergleichweise bezahlen."

There was a crowd forming around her, which was to be expected when a woman screams out like Miriam did. They would probably all think she was insane for slashing her own face like she had. She reached down and picked up the sword and a few pieces of the armor from the floor. "Ich hatte dies einaml überleben, und ich werde es wieder tun." She motioned forwards, indicating for some of the assembled crew to clear a path. "Ich möchte einen Weg, bitte, weil Ich eine Ruhe brauche." She sincerely hoped no one would actually try to stop her. She knew they likely be concerned for her, but she was not a frail maiden that required doting over.

by **Alcona and Hubris** » Fri Jan 22, 2021 2:15 pm

Lord William

William looked at his patient and then back at Hannah. "I am not sure if I will need help or not, I'm a bit out of date. Perhaps you should get the others situated having lunch and then join us back in the infirmary?" He stops and looks down at his upper body that is quite bare. "Perhaps also you can grab an undershirt for me? I was changing when the incident occurred." He smiles at Hannah and Jean but his eyes show concern.

Demencia wrote:
It was definitely seeming like people were not going to be understanding of her actions. It didn't really matter, Miriam didn't need their approval. "Ich hatte mein Auge zu Lebzeiten verloren, wohingegen andere ihrer Leben verloren hatten. Die Metalldose hatte es wiederhergestellt, obwohl das nicht ich bin. Keiner von euch seid jene Unschuldigen, aber hier bin ich. Mein Auge ist einen unverständlich niedriger Preis vergleichweise bezahlen."

"Ich hatte dies einaml überleben, und ich werde es wieder tun." She motioned forwards, indicating for some of the assembled crew to clear a path. "Ich möchte einen Weg, bitte, weil Ich eine Ruhe brauche." She sincerely hoped no one would actually try to stop her.

William turns back to the woman and points to the indicated room, "And you need to go to the infirmary not just get to lie down and let that eye keep bleeding out. I am apparently your doctor, der Arzt, and I need to properly bandage and treat that eye."

Noting that she didn't seem interesting in complying he stoped right infant of her. "I need to treat that eye to prevent infection, Blutgift..."

William didn't show it but wished his brother was here. The woman had been part of some incident, campaign or something where others had died and she felt...well she felt it was not right to be whole, as though being alive while they were dead were wrong. Alex would know what to say, if anyone understood the nature of those who had faced mass death of compatriots it was Alex. All William could do was try to patch her up and rely on their conversations.

"Or is your intention to kill yourself slowly as penance to those who died while you were apparently revived?"

by **Khasinkonia** » Fri Jan 22, 2021 3:07 pm

Madame Emmelot de Langres
Renaît ou Damnée?

Chère Marie, ma petite, la fin de ma vie s’approche, dit Mme de Langres à sa fille la plus jeune. Avec une respiration sifflante douloureuse elle continua. Je t’aimerai toujours, et au paradis nous n—teu-heu—ous reverrons, Mme de Langres rassura sa fille. Mais sa fille demanda, Mama, vous savez que vous me manquerez pour le reste de ma vie, n’est pas? Même comme sa fille n’était point un enfant, Madame de Langres étreignit sa fille contre sa poitrine quand même. À demain, répondit-elle, À demain. Elle répéta les deux mots, chaque fois plus faible. À demain, ma petite. Silence. La nuit, la nuit si noir de la mort est venue. Une nuit chaude, pas une nuit froide. Et finalement, une nuit silencieuse dans son cœur. Madame de Langres est morte, le médecin déclara. Silence.

Silence. Madame de Langres’ eyes fluttered awake. She gripped her chest as she noticed the interior of her coffin was metallic with a glass anterior—a most curious material, and one she had most certainly not wanted for her burial. The instant fear that took hold from awakening inside of a coffin was quickly confounded by outrage at the composition of this bizarre coffin. Almost as fast as these emotions came, they subsided as she noticed her hand. Madame de Langres was frozen for a moment as she analysed her hand and then her wrist. They were smooth, beautiful—youthful. She looked into the glass, and saw her reflection. She was young again. She was reborn. Youthful. Her face was that same delicate, pretty little face that she had seen as she dressed for her wedding, that same face she had seen resurface on some of her daughters, years after it had faded from her own skin, and then once more on a few of her granddaughters. Though she had been present for the birth of a few of her great grandchildren, it was perhaps a small regret that she had not been able to see her own face in theirs on their wedding days. It was not so much the vanity of being to see oneself reflected in yet another generation as it was a certain pride to which she had become accustomed. A little beaming pride of the children she spent so much time on, the pride of seeing them go off, marry, and start the cycle anew, time after time.

She had hoped in death to ascend to the Kingdom above, but as she finally looked past her own reflection to take in the scene beyond the confines of the coffin. She was easily able to step out, but the cacophony of voices in all assortment of different tongues—some which Madame de Langres recognised and some which she did not—took her quite by surprise. Surely in Paradise all would speak some common divine tongue, or perhaps Latin. But alas, that was scarcely the reality she faced. Actually, now that she considered the environment she found herself in, there was little that suggested wherever she had awoken to be Paradise. A chill went down her spine as she pondered the alternative. Hell? The great Inferno? Surely she could not have been cast down there. Indeed, the notion seemed alarmist to her as she wrestled with the thought. There was no fire, after all, and at the very least, those she had seen and heard seemed rather more upset than in the severe pain she had imagined for Hell.

Purgatory—the realm between the living world and Heaven where the dead who were in God’s good graces, but were flawed nonetheless and had sins yet left to overcome, seemed like the most likely case, although Madame de Langres had assumed had always assumed that, when her time came, she would had some way of knowing exactly where she had been sent after death, be it certainty that manifested within her or perhaps an explanation from some agent of the divine. Alas, she was afforded no such luxury. The others had seemingly departed from the room which she was in before she could even make contact with them, though there was a small trail of blood to follow. Reluctant as she was to follow such a macabre trail, it seemed as if it would be the only way she would find her way from the metallic morgue to another place. With a hesitant trudge, she slowly followed the trail into the hallway as she took proper note of what she was clothed in. It reminded her, in some ways, of a rich man’s cilice—one which was made to resemble those ugly garments made of sackcloth but kept comfortable enough that they were bearable. Surely, whoever had dressed her for death had made some grave error. It was a grey, drab, hideous fabric, but one that she still took care not to stain with the blood on the floor.

When she reached the end of the trail, in a room laden with people, she gripped her chest once more.

“May the good Lord have mercy upon us,” she murmured as she saw the scene in the medbay. Her expression was nothing short of thoroughly distressed. Though she resisted the urge to make some greater exclamation, she couldn’t help but rock in her standing position as she tried to calm herself.

by **Nagakawa** » Fri Jan 22, 2021 4:20 pm

Europa Undivided wrote:Jean-Luc Lafayette

Sarderia wrote:
Johannes de Spielman

“Y-Yea, that sounds like a good idea”, Jay replied Jean-Luc, slowly backing away from the armoury in which the German woman had somehow gored herself in the face and peeked over his shoulder to see if Jean-Luc was following along.

The food was thankfully still hot when they got to the kitchen, though it was hard to guarantee that it would stay that way for the rest of the folks crowding round the armoury at the moment. Not that it really mattered either way. A ship that could resurrect people from different periods of human history and time travel through those same periods would surely have a microwave oven lying around somewhere, for the people who preferred their food warmer than lukewarm.

“So”, said Jay, taking a seat and beckoning to Jean-Luc and Johannes, who had followed them into the dining room. “What... um... period of human history are y’all from?”

by **Voxija** » Fri Jan 22, 2021 5:56 pm

Cornelia Quinta

Her room on the Icarus

The screaming had stopped, and Cornelia Quinta had time to reflect on her situation. She had looked out the window, and seen the familiar boot of Italy, as well as many other landmasses that she had no knowledge of—the Earth was huge. If Cornelia concentrated, she could just barely see the celestial spheres. This ship didn't float in water; it floated in the heavens.

These people, whoever had made this ship, since they and Hannah certainly weren't one and the same, had godlike power. Had the gods consented to give Hannah a celestial chariot? Probably not, since everything on the Icarus seemed to be made for humans. Humans had learned to harness the power of the gods and bend it to their will, even resurrecting people from the dead. The future was very good indeed.

But Cornelia's theological musings were interrupted by the rumbling of her stomach. She hadn't eaten since... she died. She had to get to the dining hall immediately, and partake in whatever this Jay man had cooked.

Cornelia walked over to the dining room, but there were already three men in there. Cornelia was about to apologize and ask for a bite to eat, but then she realized that there were no couches! She was expected to eat sitting in a chair, not lying down on her stomach on a couch. Cornelia did not know what that would do to her stomach. Cornelia decided to take a sentiment that she didn't know would be applied to her own city in the future, essentially: when in Rome, do as the Romans do.

"Hello," said Cornelia. "May I have something to eat?"

by **Lessoni** » Fri Jan 22, 2021 6:23 pm

Paul Goodwin

Paul wondered whether it was a good idea, to let everyone in the armory, as he looked at the spectacle before him. For certain, he was a soldier, trained, disciplined, rational, no issue with him having access to some of God's greatest equalizers, and Paul doubted he was the only fighting man saw fit for resurrection. But the woman had taken her own eye out, that much was obvious, though by accident or on purpose was the greatest question, at the moment. He wasn't sure which one would be worse; crazy or grossly incompetent. Either way? She didn't need armed. Of course, these were first impressions. Paul only hoped the second would be a little better, otherwise he thought this ship might drive him insane more efficiently than any German.

The sight of her suffering didn't faze him as badly as he wished it did. He'd seen men take worse than losing an eye; if the ship had anything at least as decent as a medics field tent and an 18 year old with 9 months training, she'd live. And maybe she'd learn something from the experience. Still, he stood and watched, silent, wanting to step in and help, but unsure how to go about it. Then he didn't have to. There were plenty of strong men around to lend a hand. When lunch was called, he slipped into the mess hall, wishing he'd done something more, but he pushed it aside by wondering what they'd be eating on this ship.

He grabbed some food behind the three men ahead of him. They seemed to already have something like camaraderie between themselves, though that might've been Paul's imagination. Maybe it was his wishful thinking; camaraderie between three might easier become four. He stood awkwardly for a moment, wondering whether he could sit down with them, though a woman approaching the three provided a useful distraction. At least they wouldn't see him standing there like a hat rack. He chastised himself a moment for his nerve, or lack thereof (What is this, Paul? High school?) and sat with them just soon enough to hear the supposed chef pose his question, asking where (or, when) the assembled group was from. He was glad, at least, they'd all have something to talk about. After all, history was a long topic.

"Born 1895, died... came here from 1918. Was fighting in the World War, before I got here. Say, I guess at least one of you must know, how'd it turn out? I mean, we were winning when I went stage left. It stay that way? Sorry, sorry, getting ahead of myself. Name's Goodwin, Paul Goodwin."

by **Europa Undivided** » Fri Jan 22, 2021 7:30 pm

Jean-Luc Lafayette

“So”, said Jay, taking a seat and beckoning to Jean-Luc and Johannes, who had followed them into the dining room. “What... um... period of human history are y’all from?”

"Well," Jean answered, sniffing at the contents of the plate set before him and giving out a satisfied expression on his face. "As far as you folks are concerned, I'm from the future. A crappy version of it, to be exact."

He then paused to take a bite off the chicken, especially savouring the deep fried skin. "I was born on 2098 AD, in Paris, and I lived until 2133, when I was swarmed by alien lizards from space. Between that time, I finished at the top ten of the naval Academy and got posted as the captain of a space battleship, which was docked on the moon of Enceladus. The years I spent on that icy moon has made me... used to the cold." He took another paused to get another bite; Jean was certainly enjoying himself. "But, my ship was destroyed in a sabotage action, and I took control of squadron of airships. That was when these reptilian aliens invaded the solar system. The united navies of Earth stopped them at first, but they came back and utterly destroyed us. I watched the colonies on Enceladus burn as I came back to Earth, and before long, I was hiding in a rudimentary settlement in the New York subways, as humanity at large has been subjugated. Hannah was an important member of that community, too."

The man gazed back at the food. "It's been way too long since I got to eat something that wasn't dug out of a dumpster or canned food that we salvaged out of an abandoned grocery. It feels like forever since I had an actual meal."

"Born 1895, died... came here from 1918. Was fighting in the World War, before I got here. Say, I guess at least one of you must know, how'd it turn out? I mean, we were winning when I went stage left. It stay that way? Sorry, sorry, getting ahead of myself. Name's Goodwin, Paul Goodwin."

"The Allies won both world wars.", Jean replied, though he said that with his mouth full. Dunking down a glass of water, he continued. "Thankfully the second one was the last world war. And, uh, nice to meet you all..."

He was still eating while talking. Jay did a good job with this one...

by **Voxija** » Fri Jan 22, 2021 7:53 pm

Cornelia Quinta

Dining room, the Icarus

Cornelia sat awkwardly in a chair. Eating would be strange from now on, but everything was strange. Cornelia delicately ate her oyakodon. It looked a bit like Parthian chicken, but smelled nothing like it. It tasted good, though.

“So”, said Jay, taking a seat and beckoning to Jean-Luc and Johannes, who had followed them into the dining room. “What... um... period of human history are y’all from?”

History? Cornelia Quinta felt offended. She lived in modernity. The other people around her were from her future. To them, the Roman Empire would be ancient history. Cornelia felt odd like that. The supposed stability of Rome had collapsed, so that even the system of years had changed. Her timeline was shook.

Cornelia decided to wait until the others had answered before telling the men where she was from, but that was a mistake. Concepts Cornelia had no context for swirled around in conversation. The entire world... at war? Twice?! Lizards from space? Space meaning the heavens? The moon of Enceladus? There were other moons? What was New York? All that Cornelia got was that Jean had had the same tough life as Hannah, and that Paul had died in a war that encompassed the entire world. A world war was hard to imagine.

Cornelia took time to swallow her food. "I am from the great city of Rome. I died in the reign of Emperor Vespasian—" Cornelia did a bit of mental math—"Maybe 70, 75 years after the leader of your weird death cult was born." Cornelia still had trouble thinking of her time as history, and so she stated the facts like she would to a foreigner inquiring where she was from. And as for Christianity, well, Cornelia didn't care about offending anyone about the topic.

Icarus (Sci-fi/Time-travel|IC|Open)

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