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

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Dyelli Beybi
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Founded: Antiquity
Civil Rights Lovefest

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

Postby Dyelli Beybi » Wed Jan 20, 2021 2:06 pm

Image





Welcome to Icarus, a character RP centred on a group of people from different time periods who wake up on a mysterious ship: the Icarus. In this RP you will have the option of playing as a person from any time and place in Earth’s history (though not a famous figure) with a mission to track down and stop a rogue time traveller from changing human history for his own ends. On a more personal level there is also the question as to how you came to be here and whether you are, in fact, still really you. Will you tread lightly or cause a ripple through time?

This RP is part of the larger ‘Andormedaverse’ series of RPs, though there is no need to have read any of the other threads to take part in ‘Icarus’.

This RP is open to latecomers. If you want to join once the IC has started we will just write that another mysterious pod has opened and you are free to join the action!

If this sounds interesting to you, feel free to pop over to the OOC and make an app or join the Discord to discuss your ideas.




Chapter One: Second Life
(Click for some mood-setting theme music)




Hannah Brown
Onboard the Icarus, somewhere in space and time...


It was, it turned out, pretty lonely in space. The AI had given Hannah the outline of what she was supposed to be doing, given her some instructions for configuring the AI, then promptly reset itself. Getting it set up again had taken the best part of five hours. Five stressful hours; Hannah wasn't entirely sure how well the life support and other essential components would do with no computer regulating them. She managed it though, with nothing major going wrong on the ship. There were a number of voice options. She clicked on one called 'Bruce Campbell' (whomever that was) and left it at that.

She tried to get further information out of the AI for a few minutes, but it was no use, whatever had happened on the ship before she had awoken had wiped the machine's memory and there was nothing she could think of to get it back, leaving her in the dark apart from the small amount of information it had given her before going offline. They were chasing 'Davin Blackmore' and there was a console that would alert her of ongoing disturbances in the timeline. She had sat and stared at the console for a while; nothing.

After that she figured she might be on this ship for a while so went in search of a cabin to call home. There were quite a number. She picked the one with the en suite shower room. There were personal effects in here and clothing though it was for a man whom she guessed was about 6 feet tall... nothing that would fit her. She boxed up the clothing and personal effects, putting it down in storage... which seemed to be full of clothing from different time periods. That could come in handy later.

Next she spent half an hour rummaging through the clothes in the other rooms before finally finding some in her size. She found a grey knit top, cargo trousers and some boots then showered in her newly claimed en suite. It was bliss. Hannah could barely remember the last time she had had access to well pressurised, hot running water. She closed her eyes, letting the water stream over her. Hannah didn’t feel the cold, not like she used to, but that did nothing to inhibit the simple pleasure of a nice warm shower, though as she began to relax the memories of the people she had left behind started to resurface and that little knot of sadness she had kept so well contained began to threaten to bubble over; her personal life had just been getting on track...

She switched the shower off, forcing the thoughts back into her subconscious then got out, towelled off and, partly to keep busy and partly because she felt exposed without a weapon, went to fetch a 'blaster' and a shoulder holster from the armoury. It was rather a large room, much larger than she had expected and full of all manner of weapons from bronze headed spears and simple bows through to futuristic direct energy weapons. She had, literally, no idea how to use most of this and the AI had stressed how important it was not to run the risk of leaving a future weapon lying around in some random period of history. Might need to practice with some of it... but where to start? She had no idea where, or when, they were going to end up. The blaster would at least give her a means to protect herself from any sketchy characters who might wake up from the pods (if only she'd had a weapon like that back in the 22nd century). The AI hadn't given her any indication of who might be in there and for all she knew there might be some Roman in there who thought she looked especially Carthaginian... or Sabine.

"Now what?" she asked herself as she looked over the weapons rack. The weapons didn't answer back.

Hannah went back to the bridge, her new boots clanking on the metal floor panels. They were a pretty good fit considering she'd looted them from one of the former crew and much more comfortable than the worn-down remnants of footwear she had had been wearing in the 22nd century, when she had died. She stopped, shuddering at the memory, her hand flicking across to the holstered blaster as her heart raced in remembered terror. It took her a few moments to calm down enough to be able to close her eyes and count down from ten, marking each number with a deep, calming breath.

She took the last few yards to the bridge a little faster than she might have otherwise. The AI's voice, she figured would help to keep the terror from creeping up on her again, "Hey Computer!" she greeted it with almost maniacal cheerfulness. She'd only been awake a few hours and the lack of other humans was already getting to her. It probably would have been easier if she hadn't died, painfully, just before waking up here.

"Ms Brown," in the somewhat nasal tone of voice she'd given it, "How can I help you today?"

"Do you have any music programmed onto the Icarus?" she asked.

"We do. We have music samples of the music produced on Earth spanning approximately 7,000 years of human history. The most chronologically -"

"Keep it to the last couple of centuries," Hannah instructed, cutting the AI off, "Since me that is. Call it 2140 to 1940? Not that I imagine anyone was writing music after 2128."

"I have brought up a list on the Captain's console, if you want like a look."

Hannah wandered over to the console, seating herself in the Captain's chair. Was she the Captain? She probably was by virtue of the fact she was the only one here. She looked blankly at the list, maybe recognised one tune in ten. She scrolled through it for a few moments, then selected something at random, leaning back in the well upholstered chair as the first few bars washed over her. It really was quite comfortable...

"Ms. Brown?" the Computer asked, cutting through her reflection.

"Hmm?" she answered, glancing upwards. Where were you meant to look when you were talking to a machine you were literally sitting inside?

"You asked me to let you know when other pods are opening." the Computer answered, "It seems a number are opening now."

"Right. I'm on my way," she said, sitting up straight and taking a moment to unbutton her holster before heading back in the direction of the cargo hold...



The Cargo Hold

Those waking up would almost certainly be confused. Depending upon what their last moments of their prior life had been like they might wake up screaming, or relatively peacefully. They would each find themselves in a metal box as they woke, it's lid slid back and each was dressed in an almost identical grey jumpsuit; not the most comfortable or fashionable thing in the world. The room they found themselves in was large and dimly lit with dozens of similar pods arranged in neat rows across it, bands of dull strip lighting overhead. To some of the newly awakened, they might appear like coffins. For any from a time far in the future where humanity had begun to travel beyond the solar system, they might seem like stasis pods. Both guesses were wrong.

The room itself was large, with metal walls, a metal floor and a discernible hum coming from somewhere behind them. Were the sleepers to try to speak to one another they would, doubtless, quickly encounter someone speaking a different language, though something had been done to them before they awoke which meant they now understood it, no matter what the language actually was.

There was a single door in or out of the room and there. Someone was there as well; a woman with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and hawkish features. By the standards of most periods of human history, she wasn't particularly tall, though for those who had woken up from the the early middle ages or start of the late modern era, she might have seemed a little over average height (for an undernourished peasant). She wore a snug grey woolen top and cargo trousers, which was remarkable only in the fact that she wasn't wearing a jumpsuit, which meant she hadn't just woken up. Those born in more modern times might also recognise the shoulder holster and shape of a gun under her left arm. She stood well back from the pods and watched the sleepers waking, without initially saying anything; watching to see if any of them looked like they were going to present a menace. Once she was satisfied she had a reasonable read on the people she raised a hand in greeting before uttering a somewhat awkward, "Ah... I know you are probably quite confused right now. I was. The important bit is you're on a ship, called the Icarus and you're not dead."

Inwardly, Hannah braced herself for the inevitable barrage of questions...

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Lessoni
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Founded: Nov 24, 2018
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Postby Lessoni » Wed Jan 20, 2021 2:31 pm

Dyelli Beybi wrote:Those waking up would almost certainly be confused. Depending upon what their last moments of their prior life had been like they might wake up screaming, or relatively peacefully. They would each find themselves in a metal box as they woke, it's lid slid back and each was dressed in an almost identical grey jumpsuit; not the most comfortable or fashionable thing in the world. The room they found themselves in was large and dimly lit with dozens of similar pods arranged in neat rows across it, bands of dull strip lighting overhead. To some of the newly awakened, they might appear like coffins. For any from a time far in the future where humanity had begun to travel beyond the solar system, they might seem like stasis pods. Both guesses were wrong.

The room itself was large, with metal walls, a metal floor and a discernible hum coming from somewhere behind them. Were the sleepers to try to speak to one another they would, doubtless, quickly encounter someone speaking a different language, though something had been done to them before they awoke which meant they now understood it, no matter what the language actually was.

There was a single door in or out of the room and there. Someone was there as well; a woman with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and hawkish features. By the standards of most periods of human history, she wasn't particularly tall, though for those who had woken up from the the early middle ages or start of the late modern era, she might have seemed a little over average height (for an undernourished peasant). She wore a snug grey woolen top and cargo trousers, which was remarkable only in the fact that she wasn't wearing a jumpsuit, which meant she hadn't just woken up. Those born in more modern times might also recognise the shoulder holster and shape of a gun under her left arm. She stood well back from the pods and watched the sleepers waking, without initially saying anything; watching to see if any of them looked like they were going to present a menace. Once she was satisfied she had a reasonable read on the people she raised a hand in greeting before uttering a somewhat awkward, "Ah... I know you are probably quite confused right now. I was. The important bit is you're on a ship, called the Icarus and you're not dead."

Inwardly, Hannah braced herself for the inevitable barrage of questions...


Paul Goodwin

When he'd heard the whistling, not of a jaunty tune but flying shells, the same question that posed itself every other time posed itself once more; up or down? Would he be with the Lord soon, or burning? That was the last thought through his head, the last thought he'd ever have before thought ceased to exist.

Up or down?

And now he realized that even after death he didn't have an answer. This wasn't Heaven; there were no pearly gates, and it was remarkably cool for Hell, if the Lord had not forgiven him his sins. No, this wasn't either, and it didn't feel like purgatory, not unless purgatory too lacked the fire he'd been promised. This was something altogether different, for Paul was quite sure he was dead. At least, until he got up. He was also quite sure dead people didn't feel stubbed toes, a hypothesis he'd tested against the side of his... coffin? Whatever the metal box was, it hurt, and that sold onto Paul that he was alive. And now he had even more questions he needed answered, and looking around, he saw the woman who would be his answerer. If not... well, he was sure he could be on her before her gun cleared the holster.

Her short 'important bit' at least clarified that he wasn't dead. That, of course, was the only question she had put to rest as Paul looked down at himself, at the odd garb he found himself draped in. He looked back up at her, eyes wary and hand instinctually hanging near his waist, looking prepped to grab something off a belt or out of a holster. In that moment, he wished for nothing more than the weight of his kit, something he'd bemoaned in the past, but he shrugged that thought aside as he spoke up.

"Excuse my language, ma'am, but who the fuck are you and what the fuck is going on here?" asked the soldier, looking the woman dead in the eye before his eyes betrayed him, flitting between her eyes and her gun involuntarily. Paul didn't like cursing in front of a lady, but he was stressed, and more than a little afraid, and it felt good to be asserting himself. To be demanding some answers.
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Demencia
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Founded: Sep 12, 2010
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Postby Demencia » Wed Jan 20, 2021 3:35 pm

Miriam von Donnersberg


As far as ways to go, dying instantly to a siege engine is probably preferable to a slower and more agonizing method. But the sudden transition between a battlefield and a strange metal box was more jarring than if you knew you died. Miriam's eyes opened in a flash, and she was disoriented and confused. She reached down to her side and felt nothing. "Mein Schwert!" she said in a panic, then realized something else was wrong. "Meine Rüstung!" she said when she saw the strange outfit she was wearing.

She stumbled out of the box, and managed to catch a reflection of herself. "Nein..." she muttered, looking closer. She brought one hand up slowly and covered her right eye. "Meine... Auge..." she said with a tremble to her voice when she was still able to see. "Mist!" Something was definitely wrong here, and she didn't know where things changed. She felt around the socket of the eye for the familiar scar tissue, but it was as smooth as the rest of her face.

Miriam turned, now very confused and panic setting in. She saw other people in the large room, and more boxes like the one she woke up in. "Was ist hier los?" she demanded. She kept her back to the wall, and while her arms were near her sides or on her face she was ready in case one of them tried to swing at her. She'd prefer to have a weapon like her sword, but if fisticuffs were unavoidable she wanted to be ready.

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Voxija
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Founded: Jan 17, 2019
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Voxija » Wed Jan 20, 2021 3:44 pm

Cornelia Quinta

On the Icarus

Cornelia Quinta opened her eyes. First searing pain, and now... this. She was staring up at a ceiling. This doesn't seem like the afterlife. The first thing Cornelia felt was curiosity. Where is this place? What was this place? Cornelia sat up and looked at her clothes. Barbarian trousers attached to a barbarian shirt—and gray. Cornelia wondered if she had been kidnapped by one of the various peoples Rome fought, but then she rejected that thought. She had died.

Cornelia had died in childbirth. She felt like screaming, but at the end, she accepted her fate, and had closed her eyes for the last time. But it wasn't the last time. A burning question, the most important question Cornelia could have had, begged to be asked: did the child survive the birth?

A woman, who was also dressed like a barbarian and looked Phoenician to Cornelia, started talking in a foreign language. Cornelia focused, and found she could understand what she said. Her statement brought up more questions than answers. Why wasn't Cornelia dead? This didn't look like a ship. And the Icarus? Daedalus' son, who flew too close to the sun and then fell to his death? Oh dear... Cornelia, however, still felt calm in the presence of another woman. Perhaps this strange Icarus ship would be kind to her.

Other people were awakening, and some looked very disturbed. A man, who looked hardened by battle, asked a very good question. With her new understanding of the English language, Cornelia understood that those were some very coarse words the man was using, but he went straight to the point and asked what Cornelia was wondering.

Cornelia Quinta decided to ask her own question. "What about my baby? After I died—did it survive?" This woman probably didn't know, though.
The Republic of Voxija (pronounced: Voshiya)
I'm female.
Some weird Jew. Trying to learn French and failing. An American who wishes the US would switch to the metric system. Part of a giant conspiracy. Secret pyromaniac? I will never make an OOC factbook!

my politics are confused and muddled
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Generic MT liberal democracy Meh. | I think that by now I've created more lore for my nation than most real-world nations have.
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Alcona and Hubris
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Founded: Antiquity
New York Times Democracy

Postby Alcona and Hubris » Wed Jan 20, 2021 3:53 pm

Lord William

William had been woken by the scream. He sat bolt upright at the sound and smacked his head against the beam above his head. Pain shot through his mind as the whole cabin continued to rotate.

Before he could gather himself from the shock, the rotating would tossed him from his bunk. found himself suddenly sprawled across the far set of bunks. As he tried to regain vision in the weird light, the sun shining down through the porthole behind him. He heard cracking of glass.

William wasn’t able to turn in time to see the sudden breaking of the glass of the skylight. The small bits of glass breaking across his back. But the sudden, deep nawing cold of Lake Superior suddenly crashed on him. The water pushing him into the bunks, pushing breath from his lungs.

William’s instincts took hold he grasped for air and then began to react, some part of his mind telling him how to flee. He could feel the water rushing into the cabin from the skylight as the ceiling slowly rotated to become the floor. He didn’t know exactly why but he pushed towards the gapping darkness beyond. Gripping the sides of the skylight and pulling himself against the grip of the incoming water. He could feel the current trying to push him back as well as the glass cutting into his palm.

William continued to fight for his life. Some kicks with his legs and suddenly he was out of the boat. He could feel, more than see the deck of the poor sloop above him. Beyond the dark mass of rigging and ship he could make out the lighter green where the water was still lit by the sun above. He swam for the relative safety of that green water. His lungs burning from the lack of fresh oxygen, his arms and legs both burning with energy and yet slowly numbing to the cold of the lake water. He felt the passage of lines and objects as he focused on swimming into the green, away from the mass of the sloop above him.

He felt relief as the light began to meet his eyes, as he began to escape the dying ship. He felt the rail of the ship, and he used it to push himself up, up towards the light. Up towards life…then something snagged on his leg. It held him, it pulled him. William turned and looked down into the darkness. The faint grey of rope twisted around his ankle. He hunched to work at the rope. His cold fingers didn’t seem to want to work. He tried frantically to undo the impromptu knot, but his fingers just would not work.

He looked back up for the light…it was gone….




….actually it was not gone. It was now there. It was a bright, steady luminescence. It was steady, like sunlight but was too harsh and unnatural. A bright luminescent box hanging above him.

William blinked and then finally noted he was not in the same place. He was not cold, or numb. Not wet or feeling like he had been almost drowned. He lifted himself up from his narrow bunk.

William blinked at the sight as his mind tried to interpret what was going on. It was not a bunk, it appeared to be some kind of coffin, more akin to a sarcophagus from some odd french play. William wondered if somehow he had been transported into that madman playwright’s imagination.

His attention was drawn when a young woman, dressed as a mariner. A mariner carrying some sort of side weapon. His mind was drawn to thinking of Lake Hawk, the young Iriqouis woman and scout he had, well he wasn’t quite sure what they were.

”Ah... I know you are probably quite confused right now. I was. The important bit is you're on a ship, called the Icarus and you're not dead.”


William paused at that his attention drawn back to the woman. The english was accented but not locatable. He was about to say something to her when another person, also rising from his bizarre sarcophagus, rudely demands
“Excuse my language, ma'am, but who the fuck are you and what the fuck is going on here?”


He recognizes that accent, though not the person providing it. Not a member of the crew of the ship he had chartered, though then how he wound up here. And William is not impressed by the young man apologizing before accosting the woman with foul language, obviously not a gentleman. He might be a fellow survivor of some odd, mid lake collision but still one needed to demonstrate manners.

A woman nearby asks a question in German "What is going on here?" though it confuses him since his German is horrid he understands the statement precisely. He looks over and looks at the german woman and states, ""Griass Got, wir sind freundlich" and a smile to try and help her understand they were not a threat...likely someone who the Prussians had done horrors to in the latest war. He turned his attention back to the female crew member

William decides to respond as one should to a rescuing crewman, especially a woman. “Personally, Madam, I wish to thank the crew of the Icrarus from obviously rescuing me and all of us from our potentially eminent demise….” He pauses as he indicates the other individuals also rising from their metallic sarcophagi, “…but perhaps a general briefing of details to us all would not be amiss? For example, your name, your rank and post on the Icrarus, and is she a British or American flagged vessel"

William decides not to ask about the odd long johns he appears to be wearing. Likely an American vessel with this sort of new fabric aboard...and those lights... he thinks before returning his attention to their host.

However the woman speaking latin throws him, Er...her baby survive after she died? The woman must be from somewhere in italy and thinks we're on some sort of version of that afterlife boat they refer to...
Last edited by Alcona and Hubris on Wed Jan 20, 2021 4:00 pm, edited 2 times in total.
If you haven't seen a sky furnace...
You're young...

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Nagakawa
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Posts: 554
Founded: May 01, 2019
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Nagakawa » Wed Jan 20, 2021 3:57 pm

Kang Jae-hyun

The shroud of total darkness soon gave way to a faint, throbbing consciousness, and at an indefinite and undefinable moment, it was as if the switch turned back on. Even in his deep, intoxicated slumber, somehow or another, he became aware of himself once again, and in a sudden rush of colours, Kang Jae-hyun opened his eyes and reflexively climbed forth from the metal crucible in which he had slept.

It took him but a few moments to realise that something was not quite right. His surroundings were all metallic, and an unfamiliar smell hung in the air. There was not a trace of the pine-scented candles he'd lit the night before in an attempt to calm himself to sleep, nor any of the constant pinging of messages on his phone that he’d put up with the past several years. It seemed also that he wasn’t alone- there were two others in this strange metallic room with him, a man and a woman, along with a large number of what appeared to be human-sized pods or tanks of some sort.

I could have sworn...

To his surprise, as he scratched his head and felt a full head of fluffy and voluminous hair instead of the scraggly mix of thinning fibres and bald pate he’d come to terms with over the past few years, Jay heard an unfamiliar voice speaking.

“Ah... I know you are probably confused right now. I was.”

Jay shook his head in disbelief.

“The important bit is, you’re on a ship called the Icarus, and you’re not dead.”

”And you’re not dead?” What’s that supposed to mean? When have I been dead before?

Slowly, however, as the numbness of deep sleep left his body and his senses became sharp once again, Jay noticed that it wasn’t just his surroundings that had changed. Aside from his hair, his body suddenly felt light again, no longer weighted down by all the excess weight he’d put on over his late twenties into his mid thirties, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, he didn’t feel exhausted.

Could it be that I‘m... young again?

It was all so much to take in, but in that instant, a rolling wave of some vague jubilation welled up and crashed against the shores of his heart. It was as if the previous decade, perhaps even the previous decade and two years, had never happened, and as Jay closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he could almost hear the voices of his friends in college, the four or five of them he’d met in second year, chattering away as he made his way to the next lecture, blissfully unaware of the hell of ennui that awaited him outside the halls of university. His body felt young and new again. His mind...

If this is a dream...

He opened his eyes again and wiped the moisture from them. He became aware of a fourth person- one speaking loudly in German. At least, it sounded German. Inexplicably, though Jay didn’t speak a word of German, he understood what she had said, or could at least make a guess. Several others, too, seemed to have woken up too. All unfamiliar people, people he never knew existed.

This wasn’t a dream. It felt too real to be a dream. And besides, it had been years since he’d last had any. There was no logical basis to believe it, but Jay knew deep down that this strange place he’d woken up in was, in fact, reality. Some form of reality, at least.

I... well, I’ll be.

“Um, excuse me...” The soft-spoken and mild-mannered Jay gestured awkwardly with his hand, as if to catch the attention of the lady who’d told him (and the others, too) that he was not dead. “What did you mean... when you said that we’re not dead?”
Last edited by Nagakawa on Wed Jan 20, 2021 4:28 pm, edited 2 times in total.
.____________永 河 帝 國____________.
.____________自 他 共 栄____________.


Population: 89 million (2020)
Landmass: 328,036 km²
Capital: Inada
Most populous city: Rushima

Government: Unitary parliamentary constitutional monarchy
Emperor: Tomohito
Prime Minister: Hideyoshi Kaburagi (Republican)
Speaker: Yasuo Isogai
Chief Justice: Hideki Motobu

GDP (PPP): $4.917 trillion
Inequality index: 0.373 (medium)
HDI: 0.902 (very high)
IDI: 85.1 (very highly developed)

Currency: Nagakawan yen (¥)
Internet TLD: .nk
Country code: NGK
Driving side: left
Call code: +133

National flower: empress tree paulownia (Paulownia fortunei)
National bird: red-crowned crane (Grus japonensis)
National sport: judo

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Confederation of the Equator
Diplomat
 
Posts: 604
Founded: Jun 13, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby Confederation of the Equator » Wed Jan 20, 2021 4:07 pm

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

    Ciuri, Ciuri
    Lorenzo Trabelsi Mazzola
    __________________________________

Ignorance was bliss, or so he had been told at several points of his life in which that saying made any sense. It was all about context, anyway: who would choose to be ignorant rather than aware, to be clueless over clueful, or unknowing over knowing? Such a sentence only made sense when it was about wishing you had never come into possession of a particular knowledge, things which are best untold, undiscovered, and what was more fitting to such conditions than the specifics of his own demise? Part of him wished to believe the fact that he had merely been outsmarted, but the look of pure horror on his target's face as Lorenzo's coughing escalated into an inability to breathe had been obvious enough: he had, somehow, laced the wrong cup of coffee. The amateur mistake to end all amateur mistakes had been the one to reap his life, and knowing that was even more bitter than that last cup of black coffee he had tasted.

The violent coughs of Lorenzo permeated the environment as soon as light came back to his eyes, his respiratory system convinced on eliminating a threat that, while responsible for bringing his life to an end in a Palermo café, was no longer present. He instinctively got up, putting a hand on his chest as that realization inevitably reached him, the placebo of a "poison" soon fading as, slowly but surely, his breathing went back to normal, his eyes still tearful from the pain that arose from coughing his lungs out. As the leftover agony from dying in a painful way waned, the time to address the elephant in the room soon arrived. He was not alone and the environment...
Well, it was most certainly unique, and far from what he expected.

The only real shock came to Lorenzo's senses as he heard speech. Normal, human speech. Someone was... Explaining... Something? Huh? Was that not Satan gladly welcoming the unfortunate souls sentenced to perpetual torment? "What in God's name is this..." Lorenzo's newfound willingness to verbally react to that absurdity was short-lived. He knew he was going to Hell, he just didn't know it would look like... That. That... That what?
The whole thing was too much to take in... But while one would expect the scenario to crush the feeble minds of those who had just had to go through the agony of losing their lives, it was a small, seemingly obvious detail that really broke it all. It wasn't the weird clothes everyone wore. It wasn't the location they were in. It wasn't the fact that his surroundings resembled something that, while imaginable for the creative mind that dwelled in works of literature, were unlike anything in Sicily. In all of Italy, if you will.

It was the fact that they were still alive that completely blew his emptier-than-average mind. Had he, somehow, survived failing his mission? The news came bittersweet, the knowledge of his inexcusable fuck-up being a weight to bear for eternity, a weight that could only be compensated by the continued spark of life. Somehow, some way, Lorenzo had been given a second shot.

That woman said they were on a ship, and while the bizarre nature of their environment made the chance for that particular suspicion to be true very, very slim, it was still worth it to give it a shot. Yes, the chance that he was instead heading to the second safe haven of the family. "By God, am I going to AMERICA?!" The mafioso asked loudly in a tone that mixed desperation with joy.
In loving memory of Vanquaria, slain unfairly by a pathetic moderator team. We stand strong.

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Fegun
Bureaucrat
 
Posts: 43
Founded: Jan 16, 2020
Ex-Nation

Postby Fegun » Wed Jan 20, 2021 4:36 pm

[spoiler=Rudy]


Rudy didn't exactly why or how he got so drunk but he did remember falling off a rail into the cold Atlantic waters, the ultimate sobering agent. He didn't remember struggling though, a thought crossed his mind that it was redemption for his drunkenness by god. It felt merciful for it was painless, it was over. The cold seeped around his body and his heart rate rose, Gasp, Rudy's torso shot forward and scrunched up into a coughing fit. He blindly rolled out of his 'bed' onto the floor to get on all fours and collect himself. When the attack was over he helped himself up by the lip of the 'bed' and blinked away his blurry surroundings. Reassured by a dry and solid floor he gave a weary smile, I'd say god is good but I don'even know what's happenin, he lazily looked up and down pursing his lips in deep thought. He was interrupted by other various methods of waking most extravagantly, such as bumps against whatever held them, yells of fear and probably pain, and surprisingly just waking up like they were getting out of bed.

Some of them were very obviously English and the rest he couldn't even begin to guess where from. He stopped that thought to listen to the woman of the hour at the end of the room telling all of them short of a long story and probably a very long one. Okay we's on a ship, and 'we're not dead' which is a mighty strange comment. The ship probably picked me with a couple of survivors and has strange beds n' shit Then the questions started and there hostess looked overwhelmed, hell he felt overwhelmed. He started climbing back into his 'bed thing' that he awoke from and closed his eyes to get over the initial chaos. He'd deal with it in a minute maybe five.
Some people put something smart, some people put something snarky, some might use it for the message, some might use it for their ads, but not me says instead i'll put this here because I could not think of something original to write.

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Europa Undivided
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Postby Europa Undivided » Wed Jan 20, 2021 5:00 pm

Jean-Luc Lafayette

Jean's head swam in visions of the past; confusion gripped his brain as he finally awoke from his stupor. What had happened... ah, yes. He died. Those quadrupedal monsters, the things so affectionately called Ragounds by the Turkish man that had joined their company, had killed him. Those reptilian creatures had swarmed him near the end of that horrendous fight, first biting off his right arm before the rest descended into a whole sale feast. He could still remember the sensation of a thousand teeth biting into his flesh, and the painful death that he had endured. So where was he?

"Am I dead?...", he asked no one, really, as he got up from the pod. No, he was not, it seemed. Jean's body was whole again, perhaps reconstructed by these seemingly technologically advanced pods. He could hear other voices from the other room; some were in English, others in unknown tongues. Strangely, though, he could understand both, which he found strange as he had never studied German.

One of the voices, though, was familiar. Could it be...

"By God, am I going to AMERICA?!" The mafioso asked loudly in a tone that mixed desperation with joy.


"America is gone, along with the rest of the world." Jean walked in, trying to look for clothes that aren't jumpsuits, though to no avail. "Hannah." He then said, approaching her and putting his hands on her shoulders. "You're... you're alive. Last time I saw you, you were... grabbed by one of those metal tentacles... what happened to you?" He then looked at his arm, seemingly mystified that it was still there. "This is... very confusing. We're on a spacecraft and... we're not dead? I distinctly remember being devoured by Raton pets..."

Did they all die and get resurrected? That seemed to be the case...
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When they tell me death has come for those I love, you will find me at the frontline, las-rifle in hand. There is no place else for me but to guard my home. For as long as the Imperium stands so do they I love. Should I sell my life then it would be the least I pay.

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Dyelli Beybi
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Postby Dyelli Beybi » Wed Jan 20, 2021 5:37 pm

Hannah Brown

Lessoni wrote:Paul Goodwin
...

"Excuse my language, ma'am, but who the fuck are you and what the fuck is going on here?" asked the soldier, looking the woman dead in the eye before his eyes betrayed him, flitting between her eyes and her gun involuntarily. Paul didn't like cursing in front of a lady, but he was stressed, and more than a little afraid, and it felt good to be asserting himself. To be demanding some answers.


Barrage of questions indeed. And certainly a few she couldn't answer.

The comment drew a short laugh from the woman, "I'm Hannah Brown. Born in New York in 2105. Died in 2134. Who the fuck are you?" she shot back, a slight twinkle in her eye and wry smile revealing her amusement.

Demencia wrote:
Miriam von Donnersberg


...

Miriam turned, now very confused and panic setting in. She saw other people in the large room, and more boxes like the one she woke up in. "Was ist hier los?" she demanded. She kept her back to the wall, and while her arms were near her sides or on her face she was ready in case one of them tried to swing at her. She'd prefer to have a weapon like her sword, but if fisticuffs were unavoidable she wanted to be ready.


Hannah figured that would sort-of answer the German woman's questions as well. Hopefully. She had been looking for a sword, which probably meant things were a lot more confusing for her than they had been for Hannah... "Hey!" she called, trying to get her attention, "I don't have your stuff, but if it makes you feel better, there's an armoury down the hall from here where you can get yourself a sword. Oh, and there's a lot of more comfortable clothes to rummage through."

Voxija wrote:Cornelia Quinta

...

Cornelia Quinta decided to ask her own question. "What about my baby? After I died—did it survive?" This woman probably didn't know, though.


The next question felt like a kick in the stomach. The woman had a child... oh God... Hannah had thought her situation was bad, but the unknown woman had had a child. In the world Hannah came from that was something very special and to be torn away from it, "I'm so sorry," she said, her tone softening as she addressed Cornelia, "I don't know. I didn't wake up long before you did. I think we can find out, once I know a little bit more about you; there are records I can access. I'll need to get to grips with the computer first," she said, hoping the woman was from a period where computers existed and wouldn't be completely baffled by the explanation, "It's a lot more sophisticated than the ones I'm used to."

Confederation of the Equator wrote:...

That woman said they were on a ship, and while the bizarre nature of their environment made the chance for that particular suspicion to be true very, very slim, it was still worth it to give it a shot. Yes, the chance that he was instead heading to the second safe haven of the family. "By God, am I going to AMERICA?!" The mafioso asked loudly in a tone that mixed desperation with joy.


The next one took her completely off guard, "What?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up, "No... well... maybe. That's a pretty complicated question now I come to think about it. Let me think about how to phrase this..."

Alcona and Hubris wrote:Lord William

...

William decides to respond as one should to a rescuing crewman, especially a woman. “Personally, Madam, I wish to thank the crew of the Icrarus from obviously rescuing me and all of us from our potentially eminent demise….” He pauses as he indicates the other individuals also rising from their metallic sarcophagi, “…but perhaps a general briefing of details to us all would not be amiss? For example, your name, your rank and post on the Icrarus, and is she a British or American flagged vessel"
...


"You are quite right, a briefing is in order and that is a very good question." she said, trying to address the next person, "I think the AI told me that this belonged to the 'Sol Institute of Temporal Research'. I think that might be an International Organisation..."

Europa Undivided wrote:Jean-Luc Lafayette

...

"America is gone, along with the rest of the world." Jean walked in, trying to look for clothes that aren't jumpsuits, though to no avail. "Hannah." He then said, approaching her and putting his hands on her shoulders. "You're... you're alive. Last time I saw you, you were... grabbed by one of those metal tentacles... what happened to you?" He then looked at his arm, seemingly mystified that it was still there. "This is... very confusing. We're on a spacecraft and... we're not dead? I distinctly remember being devoured by Raton pets..."


Which was when she spotted someone she actually recognised. Hannah had never been especially close to Jean but he was someone she knew, which was borderline miraculous, "Jean?" she asked, doubting her own eyes for a moment. Of all the people who ever lived... though there was a pretty good reason why they might have taken two people from that moment in time. She looked up at him then, probably rather unexpectedly, flung her arms around him, squeezing him tight, "You know, I thought the Sleepers would have a lot of questions for me, but it turns out I've got a lot for you. Let me try to answer some of the more burning ones, okay?" she said. She stepped away again, turning back to the group. She leaning back ever-so-slightly though so that her shoulders were still pressed back against Jean's chest, as if concerned he might vanish if she broke contact.

Nagakawa wrote:Kang Jae-hyun


“Um, excuse me...” The soft-spoken and mild-mannered Jay gestured awkwardly with his hand, as if to catch the attention of the lady who’d told him (and presumably the other two, too) that he was not dead. “What did you mean... when you said that we’re not dead?”


At last, one she could answer. Sort of. "As I understand it, you'll probably remember dying and then waking up here?" Hannah queried, looking about the group. If she was reading the expressions right it looked like most people did remember that, "You aren't in the after-life, if any of you were thinking that. We are all very much alive. We have been plucked up from wherever we were at that final moment and given a second chance. This next bit is going to sound a bit crazy but once you've had a chance to introduce yourselves and say what the last thing you remember was and when that happened, I think you'll start to see I'm telling the truth."

Hannah paused. Now seemed as good a moment as any to drop the really big news on them, "You are on a 32nd century 'Time Ship', which is to say a Research Vessel that can move through space and time. I'm not entirely sure when we are, I haven't got around to checking that bit yet, but I know we're orbiting the planet earth and there aren't any lights on the dark side so, some time before gas lights?" Hannah shrugged unable to give a better answer than that for the time being, while also realising some of these people were probably from a time before gas lights, "I woke up about half a day ago, it's hard to tell time exactly on this ship, got a really confusing briefing and then basically left to my own devices. The actual crew are, apparently, all dead. I have no idea who any of you are or why we were in those boxes to begin with, but I'm very glad to see some of you waking up because dying the way I did..." she trailed off momentarily, her eyes losing focus as her right hand instinctively twitched towards her weapon as if the grip were some totem of confidence. It was just for a moment, then she refocused on the group, "... well, company is never bad, is it?"

She looked between them again, realising how inadequate her answer was, "The crew of this ship had a mission and we have been asked to continue it; keep the timeline safe. You might want to opt out, I wouldn't blame you though I've been told we can't return to the lives we had and, at least for now, I'm going to take that on face value. I don't know enough about this time travel business to say what might happen if I tried to reinsert myself where I left off. Take the win and don't push your luck any further. What I can tell you for sure, from my brief time looking around is that there is plenty of food on this ship. There are clothes, warm showers and a comfortable place to sleep.

"I'm going to suggest you come with me up to the crew quarters, you mark yourself a room and you find something more comfortable to wear," Hannah continued, "If you feel comfortable with a weapon, the armoury is on this floor. I have no idea who is going to wake up from out of these boxes next and there is no guarantee it won't be someone who collects human noses in a bucket." For that matter Hannah didn't know with any certainty that someone in this group didn't collect human noses in a bucket... "Once you are feeling more human, we can go to the mess hall and have something to eat and I'll tell you a bit more about the mission I was given. Do any of you know how to cook?" Hannah could cook, reasonably well at that, but if cooking was someone else's hobby it might help them to cope with their new reality.

"I'm Hannah Brown," she repeated for those who had missed it earlier, "And as far as anyone outside of this room is concerned, I lived from 2105 to 2134."

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Alcona and Hubris
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Postby Alcona and Hubris » Wed Jan 20, 2021 5:55 pm

Lord William

William just blinks at 'Hannah' when she states they are in a 'spaceship' and in 'orbit'. He pauses for a moment and then states. "Ah thank you Miss Brown, if you don't mind I think I would like to see this 'Time ship 'of yours" He states the word 'Time ship' like one would repeat an obvious lie, "but stops and then returns his gaze to the frenchman and Hannah, "Am I to understand you were both alive in 2105 Annoi Domini?"

After a moment he continues "Ah then perhaps we should introduce ourselves likewise," though there is still skepticism in his voice.

He stands up and gives a small bow to the group. "Lord William Stewart MD, lately of Her Majesty's Medical Service. The last place I recall being was on Lake Superior on the 3rd of September 1870..."
Last edited by Alcona and Hubris on Wed Jan 20, 2021 6:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.
If you haven't seen a sky furnace...
You're young...

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Demencia
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Postby Demencia » Wed Jan 20, 2021 9:25 pm

Miriam von Donnersberg


None of it made sense. The woman was talking nonsense about ideas that weren't even imaginable. "Was hast du mit meine Auge angestellt?" she asserted. She didn't trust anyone in the room, especially the one who claimed to know some things about their situation but also to know nothing. People mentioned years so far ahead that it didn't even sound real to Miriam, about places that she didn't even recognize. "Ich komme aus Regnum Alemanniae. Das Jahr ist 1348..."

Part of her thought this was some form of elaborate ploy by the French, but how? This couldn't be some hallucinogen inspired dream, none of what she saw made sense enough for her to have seen it before. If it was an attempt to kill them, why strip them of their armor and weapons then offer them back? Sure they could have no intention of giving it over, but it didn't make sense to wait so long to allow them to wake up.

The noblewoman nervously reached back up to her left eye again. It didn't feel right being able to see out of it again; and even if she didn't know how it was healed, she felt like she had done something dishonorable by having it back.

"Wo ist die Waffenkammer?" she asked. Small steps first. She'd feel more comfortable with a weapon, and easy access to plate.

In order of appearance:
"What have you done with my eye?"

"I come from the Kingdom of Germany. The year is..."

"Where is the armory?"
Last edited by Demencia on Thu Jan 21, 2021 3:54 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Nagakawa
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Postby Nagakawa » Wed Jan 20, 2021 9:50 pm

Kang Jae-hyun

“Spaceship? Death...?”

How many valiums did I take?

It was all so much for Jay to process. Aside from the clamouring of all the other people apparently thrust in a similar predicament as he, there were too many questions, and only after a while did a shocking but all-telling realisation hit him.

I... I must have overdosed and died...

The unfamiliar setting. The unfamiliar noises and unfamiliar people, many of whom had strange mannerisms and strange speech inflections. All of it was finally beginning to make sense in the light of this disturbing reality that had hit him like a train.

“Wait, wait, wait... this has got to be some joke”, Jay blurted, turning to face the man who’d introduced himself as ‘Lord William Stewart’. “I... We... We all died... and then got resurrected?”

The lady who had introduced herself as Hannah spoke for a bit, explaining something about fixing timelines and being from a century and a half in the future and all that, and then asking if anybody knew how to cook. A rather out-of-place question time ask to a disparate bunch of strangers who had just awoken from supposed death, Jay thought, but not before he had raised his hand and blurted out a loud and assertive “Yes, I know how to cook.”

Ah shit.

Feeling several pairs of eyes turning to him, Jay sheepishly twiddled his fingers and cringed a bit at himself.

“Y-Yea”, he said to Hannah, in a quieter voice, chuckling in an attempt to lighten what he perceived to be a heavy mood. “I’m a pretty good cook... I think... do you need any help?” He didn’t expect she’d hear him over the others clamouring for answers or for attention, but that was the least of his concern either way. She seemed like a perceptive sort, anyway.

God, I’m such a klutz, he thought to himself, forgetting that he had inadvertently asked Lord Stewart a question in his bewilderment. But on the bright side... it looks like I’m young again. Young and fit and not balding.

“My name is Jae-hyun”, he added, smiling sheepishly. “Y-You can call me Jay. It... it’s... it’s mice to neet you!”

Jesus, what is wrong with me??
.____________永 河 帝 國____________.
.____________自 他 共 栄____________.


Population: 89 million (2020)
Landmass: 328,036 km²
Capital: Inada
Most populous city: Rushima

Government: Unitary parliamentary constitutional monarchy
Emperor: Tomohito
Prime Minister: Hideyoshi Kaburagi (Republican)
Speaker: Yasuo Isogai
Chief Justice: Hideki Motobu

GDP (PPP): $4.917 trillion
Inequality index: 0.373 (medium)
HDI: 0.902 (very high)
IDI: 85.1 (very highly developed)

Currency: Nagakawan yen (¥)
Internet TLD: .nk
Country code: NGK
Driving side: left
Call code: +133

National flower: empress tree paulownia (Paulownia fortunei)
National bird: red-crowned crane (Grus japonensis)
National sport: judo

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Europa Undivided
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Postby Europa Undivided » Thu Jan 21, 2021 6:36 am

Jean-Luc Lafayette

She looked up at him then, probably rather unexpectedly, flung her arms around him, squeezing him tight.


Quite expectedly, Hannah had given him a hug; one that he immediately reciprocated, putting his own arms around her in response. "Ah, so it's just the two us now...", Jean said, pausing to scratch his arm as the jumpsuit was a little too tight for his taste. None of their old company was present in there, meaning that out of all the people that had left New York in the terrible, dark future, only Hannah and his good self were raised back to life in this timeship.

Speaking of people...

"Lord William Stewart MD, lately of Her Majesty's Medical Service. The last place I recall being was on Lake Superior on the 3rd of September 1870..."


The introductions were starting, and though Jean felt the urge to go the quarters and get himself a quick change of clothes, he chose to introduce himself first, as Hannah was the only person who knew him in here as of yet. "Jean-Luc Picard Lafayette... former captain of the Space battleship Aquitaine, former acting commander of the 104th Enceladus Air Squadron, and a friend of this fine lady here. I lived from 2098 to 2133, meeting my grisly demise at the jaws of a swarm of alien reptilian creatures. And yes, Lord William," he turned to the Englishman, his own English sounding quite similar to that of a modern Brit. "We were both alive on the year of our Lord 2105."

There was the German woman that wondered why her eye wasn't missing, and said that she was from 1348... She probably hated the French. Like Jean, and now that he just said his name, he wondered if the first thing she'll do is to run to the armory to get a sword to use on him. Ah, well. At least this other person was a little more relatable-

“I’m a pretty good cook... I think... do you need any help?”


"She definitely needs your help.", Jean looked over to Jay as he began to walk towards the crew quarters. "I have tasted Hannah's cooking, and it's TERRIBLE." They may just have been killed and resurrected, but he still hasn't lost his touch.

“My name is Jae-hyun”, he added, smiling sheepishly. “Y-You can call me Jay. It... it’s... it’s mice to neet you!”


"Mice to meet you too, Jay.", Jean winked at him as he rushed towards the quarters. In the next few moments, the rather loud sounds of someone rummaging through cabinets ensued; after around 20 seconds, he would come back wearing a maroon leather jacket and black trousers, along with a pair of shoes. He still had the jumpsuit, though. His hair was chaotic, indicating that his changing was absolutely bum rushed...
Futurist ~ Reformed ~ RPer~ #WritingCommunity ~ Asian ~ Trad
When they tell me death has come for those I love, you will find me at the frontline, las-rifle in hand. There is no place else for me but to guard my home. For as long as the Imperium stands so do they I love. Should I sell my life then it would be the least I pay.

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Sudbrazil
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Postby Sudbrazil » Thu Jan 21, 2021 6:59 am

“Death is lighter than a feather”


So claimed the Imperial Rescript for Soldiers and Sailors, but Lieutenant Miyamoto Otoya felt as heavy as a rock. He could no longer feel the Chinese bullets in his abdomen, but the iron coffin which surrounded him was definitely real. For a moment, he felt a mix of bitter joy as his trust in the Kirischan faith was vindicated – this was an afterlife after all – but this seemed more like Hell than Heaven. Maybe it was the Purgatory the catholic sects talked about so often. As the door to the coffin opened, revealing a small crowd, he began to rethink his metaphysical world-view. Maybe the Buddhists were not wrong after all, and he really had reincarnated, but he still had his memories from before. It did not fit, much like the weird grey garments he was wearing.

He discreetly reached for his belt, grasped some air, and sat back to take stock of the situation. It did not seem this was an American ship, as the uniforms did not match, though there was a lot of English being thrown around – which he could understand despite his limited knowledge – and a lot of German, which he could also understand despite having talked to a German three times in his life. Listening patiently to what seemed like a fever dream, he finally stepped forward as they began to introduce themselves. In the most dignified, officery voice he could manage he spoke up.

“I am Lieutenant Miyamoto Otoya of the Imperial Japanese Army, felled during the Storming of Hengyang in 1944. Now if you will please excuse me, I am off to secure some accoutrements. I feel naked in this suit.”

Without waiting for a reply, he marched off towards the hallway. Though he did not expect to find anything to his liking, he was surprised to find a traditional sword of decent quality, as well as a familiar revolver and carbine. While his mouth watered at the amount and variety of ordnance, much of it unknown but very enticing, he reminded himself of the virtue of frugality and the condemnations against frivolity and hoarding. As he headed towards the wardrobe to find more practical and honourable clothing, he wondered what was the logistical situation for such an eclectic arsenal.
Last edited by Sudbrazil on Thu Jan 21, 2021 7:33 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Talchyon
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Postby Talchyon » Thu Jan 21, 2021 7:42 am

Before
Nawa Tatsuaki Ukita


Image


The screams of a man are never as potent as when he is in combat with an enemy.

Amidst the clatter of the kitana hitting armored samurai, horses charging, bolts flying and screams of wounded men, the gainyo in his antlered armor screamed his power to drive fear into the invader's heart. The tramp of hooves, the weary pressing on, even the acrid smell of smoke from fires set drove the man and his forces to hold the line. The enemy had already advanced, and the gainyo's forces were trying to stop the Mongol horde. For every one enemy the samurai struck down, seven more appeared in his place. But undeterred, the gainyo shouted to drive a wedge of fear and trembling into the advancing onslaught.

The magic fire that had been heard in the distance and up close shook the ground again as it roared. Whatever demons the Mongols had conjured up were malicious. But the gainyo had sacrificed to the sun goddess and expected either victory or an honorable death. The goddess was fickle, after all.

When the small object like a metallic orb fell some distance close behind the gainyo, he thought nothing of it. Too much else was on his mind - striking down the enemy in front of him was more of a concern. But when the metallic orb burst into the explosion of the magic fire and the world roared around him, the gainyo bowed his head and accepted his fate.




Image


Now

There was a ringing noise that seemed to emanate from nowhere. That ringing encapsulated everything even as the gainyo struggled to open his eyes. He had been enshrouded in some kind of metal tomb - a tomb with a soft light in the ceiling that somehow did not look like it was from the sun's daylight. He rubbed his eyes as he stared in shock at the light. A small breeze of cool air was coming from somewhere not in front of him. The wall itself? The wall had holes in it apparently so the breeze could be felt. Meanwhile, in the background, there was a noise that was muted and not so muted. Different pitches that could not be made clear due to the ringing were resounding everywhere. Some louder than others, but nothing discernible. The tomb was open, and more of the strange light emanated from what looked like a metallic chamber.

Where had anyone found metal workers who could make such a place?! The gainyo knew he was in a place owned by an incredible wealthy man. Taking the thought to mind, the gainyo finally noticed that he was feeling the breeze on his skin! He had been wearing his armor! Where had it gone?! The Mongols must have stripped it from him, then. He now was wearing the clothing of a prisoner - a very expensively dressed prisoner, though, since these were hardly rags. The weaving was incredible! The material was soft! Soft!! What kind of a man wastes money to dress his prisoners in soft clothes? This was smoother than the silk kimonos he had acquired. His mind raced. The Mongol invaders were still the threat. The anger rose up in his throat as he resolved to keep fighting and erase his shame of having been stripped of his armor.

But this wealthy man... whose side was he on? His own Nawa clan? The Mongols? An interloper? Too many questions, and not enough answers.

Venturing out into the metallic room, the gainyo was shocked to see how large the room was. Eyes enlarged at the ludicrous wealth that had to be spent on such a place, the gainyo somehow managed to keep his mouth from gaping. "Better to keep your mouth shut then be thought a fool," he reminded himself. The undiscernable noise grew louder, as his eyes adjusted to see the large crowd gathered and dressed like him. More prisoners of a very powerful, wealthy shogun. Not all Japanese, either. A few looked like it - in a sense. They were tall, seemingly healthy, with slick, shiny hair. But Gaijin? Where was he? Why were there so many gaijin here?! Who was this powerful lord who had captured him?!

Unless it was a dream. That would explain a lot. Dreams mean everything, or they mean nothing. Was this a powerful vision of some future event? The gainyo didn't know, so he tried to observe as much as he could.

The noises began to be... recognizable, despite the ringing he was hearing. It was as if people were speaking through a thick, bronze wall - only their voices resonated all throughout the walls and ceiling. Every sound had its own pressure and distortion. Everyone was talking at once. Snippets of the conversations drifted in his ears that made absolutely no sense. Numbers. Words that he could understand and yet not - like "America," "AI," "Temporal research". Strange dream indeed.

One man stood out from everyone. A fellow Japanese, a soldier like him. Puzzled, the gainyo wondered what empire he was referring to that he might be a member of its imperial army. Japan didn't have an empire. The shoguns battled each other, and gainyo held territories with samurai under them. The gainyo decided to reserve his questions for the soldier and ask later. He remained silent, observant, and focused on trying to understand the voices despite their unusual tones and the persistent ringing he heard.

This dream was looking more and more like it meant nothing, and not some foretelling of future prophecy.
Last edited by Talchyon on Thu Jan 21, 2021 7:48 am, edited 2 times in total.
Current RPs -
Icarus - A sci-fi story about people from all different timelines and backgrounds, rescued right after they had died, and now on missions to find out what happened, why, and to stop renegade time travelers from destroying the past.

Awake in Prefeton - A superhero story about school students discovering they have powers. Was more on character then on fights, but now there is the fight for the future and for freedom. Now in the final chapter.




Louisianan wrote:Talchyon has great comedic writing, that is true.

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Lessoni
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Postby Lessoni » Thu Jan 21, 2021 8:38 am

Dyelli Beybi wrote:"I'm going to suggest you come with me up to the crew quarters, you mark yourself a room and you find something more comfortable to wear," Hannah continued, "If you feel comfortable with a weapon, the armoury is on this floor. I have no idea who is going to wake up from out of these boxes next and there is no guarantee it won't be someone who collects human noses in a bucket." For that matter Hannah didn't know with any certainty that someone in this group didn't collect human noses in a bucket... "Once you are feeling more human, we can go to the mess hall and have something to eat and I'll tell you a bit more about the mission I was given. Do any of you know how to cook?" Hannah could cook, reasonably well at that, but if cooking was someone else's hobby it might help them to cope with their new reality.

"I'm Hannah Brown," she repeated for those who had missed it earlier, "And as far as anyone outside of this room is concerned, I lived from 2105 to 2134."


Paul Goodwin

So his biggest questions were answered. Not answers he liked, or believed in the slightest, but there wasn't any point in resistance. This was either a dream, a trick, or reality, and in any case Paul couldn't fight it. So he went right along with what he was told. It at least made sense as to how he'd survived a shelling out in the open. Or, rather, didn't survive it. If he'd gone the way of Lazarus, he wondered for a moment if this Hannah girl was Jesus. Then he dismissed the thought. Jesus would never say 'fuck'.

He didn't like the idea of being so far in the future, so far from home, but he'd adapt. Or, he'd get good at looking like he'd adapted. He ignored the ones talking, the Oriental, the Tommy, the Kraut, the one who sounded Italian but looked closer to a gorilla, all of them. He'd make their acquaintance eventually, but for now? He wanted to rest, to see the place that was supposed to be his home. Maybe on the way he'd wake up.

He looked at Hannah once more. She seemed the one to introduce himself to, if anyone. After all, she deserved a little politeness. He'd been awfully flippant. "Paul Goodwin. 1895 to 1918."

He walked first to the armory. There were the rifles of his day, the Smelly, a Springfield, even a Lewis. He didn't grab them. Rifle in these quarters was a death sentence, if anyone proved violent. But there were other arms, ones he was more comfortable with. That great American pistol the 1911, and the most reliable weapon he'd ever carried; a club. It was a simple affair of a weapon, much more reliable than the pistol, and so armed, he was only disappointed he didn't have a holster. His arms selected, for a moment he stood, and marveled. He recognized plenty; muskets, flintlocks, blades, pistols, but then he saw things he didn't recognize. Guns that seemed made of Bakelite more than metal, all black, some, though, with familiar wood mixed in. Revolvers sleeker and shinier than the Colts he'd learned to shoot on, and something that looked like the gatling guns his grandfather might've used. Apparently the need for a rifle never went away. Paul didn't know what he thought about that.

As he stepped through the halls, into the crew quarters, he found that which he lacked; proper clothes. He picked a pair of trousers, leather belt to hold them up, and a plain white T shirt. On top of it he put on a khaki jacket not too far from the one he was wearing when he... Jacket on, he strapped on one of the hip holsters he found, sticking the pistol into it and fastening it around the club. Slipping into some stocks and good sturdy boots and he almost felt normal. That was, until he saw the window.

Earth. His planet. There in all its glory. The stars beyond glimmered as they never had, even in his childhood jaunts to the country, but he barely noticed them as he pressed against the window. He was up there; he was in space. His jaw dropped open as he looked down at the great blue orb, the oceans so much bigger than he'd ever realized. The land spread out like he was looking at a map, whole continents spread before his eyes, and suddenly, Paul Goodwin felt very small. So, very, very, small.
Last edited by Lessoni on Fri Jan 22, 2021 6:38 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Dyelli Beybi
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Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Dyelli Beybi » Thu Jan 21, 2021 10:26 am

Hannah Brown

Europa Undivided wrote:Jean-Luc Lafayette
...

"She definitely needs your help.", Jean looked over to Jay as he began to walk towards the crew quarters. "I have tasted Hannah's cooking, and it's TERRIBLE." They may just have been killed and resurrected, but he still hasn't lost his touch.


"Hey Jean," Hannah turned, giving him the middle finger, "Screw you." She didn't look like she'd taken any genuine offence but still wasn't about to let that slide. She also seemed to have decided she was taking charge, "Can you go next door to the armoury, it's literally the next door down the hallway, and make sure that nobody looks like they're about to do something that will put the ship in jeopardy or like they want to try to murder the rest of us? My explanation of where we are went... better than expected actually, but even so, I don't want someone from a bygone era deciding I'm a demon sent to torment him or her and the only way to get rid of me is to cut off my head. I'd be really annoyed if I died again, so soon after the first time."

Nagakawa wrote:Kang Jae-hyun

...

The lady who had introduced herself as Hannah spoke for a bit, explaining something about fixing timelines and being from a century and a half in the future and all that, and then asking if anybody knew how to cook. A rather out-of-place question time ask to a disparate bunch of strangers who had just awoken from supposed death, Jay thought, but not before he had raised his hand and blurted out a loud and assertive “Yes, I know how to cook.”

Ah shit.

Feeling several pairs of eyes turning to him, Jay sheepishly twiddled his fingers and cringed a bit at himself.

“Y-Yea”, he said to Hannah, in a quieter voice, chuckling in an attempt to lighten what he perceived to be a heavy mood. “I’m a pretty good cook... I think... do you need any help?” He didn’t expect she’d hear him over the others clamouring for answers or for attention, but that was the least of his concern either way. She seemed like a perceptive sort, anyway.

God, I’m such a klutz, he thought to himself, forgetting that he had inadvertently asked Lord Stewart a question in his bewilderment. But on the bright side... it looks like I’m young again. Young and fit and not balding.

“My name is Jae-hyun”, he added, smiling sheepishly. “Y-You can call me Jay. It... it’s... it’s mice to neet you!”

Jesus, what is wrong with me??


Having said her piece to Jean, Hannah twirled to face Jay, "Jae-hyun, but Jay for short," she repeated, doing a surprisingly good job at the pronunciation. She gave him a quick nod and a bright smile, "Though I'm slightly disappointed it's only it's only 'mice' to meet me?" she said, with a slight pout, "I'd like to think I was worth 'otters'... or at least 'weasels'!"

Hannah was actually beginning to enjoy herself. Yes, half of the sleepers probably thought she was mad, but it was still interesting to meet them and, from the dates some of them had mentioned it seemed like there would be a lot of interesting stories to be shared. "The kitchen and mess hall in down the corridor, up the stairs." she added to Jay, "There are crew quarters on the outside of the ship. The room you are looking for is in the middle. You can't miss it! Most of the cupboards seem to be full of those plastic packets with those military rations that never seem to go off and taste surprisingly good when you've been eating things you hunted in a subway... but I did spy some fresh stuff as well. Enough for a few days at any rate, though it's not like fresh produce should be too hard to get... unless someone damages the ship."

She glanced over in the direction of the other East-Asian man who hadn't said anything yet then back to Jay, "I'm going to check on the people who are still here. Make sure they are doing alright, but I will be up to give you a hand in a moment. I'm hoping that once everyone has had something to eat and feels a bit more settled and has realised I'm not certifiably insane, that we can have a chat about what we are going to do about our situation."

But first Hannah needed to make sure that all the people who were waking up were not left floundering too much.

Talchyon wrote:Before
Nawa Tatsuaki Ukita


...

One man stood out from everyone. A fellow Japanese, a soldier like him. Puzzled, the gainyo wondered what empire he was referring to that he might be a member of its imperial army. Japan didn't have an empire. The shoguns battled each other, and gainyo held territories with samurai under them. The gainyo decided to reserve his questions for the soldier and ask later. He remained silent, observant, and focused on trying to understand the voices despite their unusual tones and the persistent ringing he heard.

This dream was looking more and more like it meant nothing, and not some foretelling of future prophecy.


"Hello, Sir?" Hannah took a couple of steps closer to Nawa, while still keeping a safe distance. Enough that she felt confident she could get the blaster out of its holster and fire if he decided to go for her throat or otherwise try to do something unpleasant to her, "Are you feeling alright?"

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Talchyon
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Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Talchyon » Thu Jan 21, 2021 11:36 am

The large metal room
Nawa Tatsuaki Ukita


Dyelli Beybi wrote:Hannah Brown


Talchyon wrote:After
Nawa Tatsuaki Ukita


...

One man stood out from everyone. A fellow Japanese, a soldier like him. Puzzled, the gainyo wondered what empire he was referring to that he might be a member of its imperial army. Japan didn't have an empire. The shoguns battled each other, and gainyo held territories with samurai under them. The gainyo decided to reserve his questions for the soldier and ask later. He remained silent, observant, and focused on trying to understand the voices despite their unusual tones and the persistent ringing he heard.

This dream was looking more and more like it meant nothing, and not some foretelling of future prophecy.


"Hello, Sir?" Hannah took a couple of steps closer to Nawa, while still keeping a safe distance. Enough that she felt confident she could get the blaster out of its holster and fire if he decided to go for her throat or otherwise try to do something unpleasant to her, "Are you feeling alright?"


What do you say to a dream? As Hannah approached - though standing at a distance as though she expected him to lash out, Tatsuaki's ears continued to hurt. The ringing sound that was persistent was hurtful in itself, but the disfigured noises of speech from everyone drove a sharp pain into his head. He put his hands to his ears.

"Ears. Ringing," was all Tatsuaki said.
Current RPs -
Icarus - A sci-fi story about people from all different timelines and backgrounds, rescued right after they had died, and now on missions to find out what happened, why, and to stop renegade time travelers from destroying the past.

Awake in Prefeton - A superhero story about school students discovering they have powers. Was more on character then on fights, but now there is the fight for the future and for freedom. Now in the final chapter.




Louisianan wrote:Talchyon has great comedic writing, that is true.

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Sarderia
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Ex-Nation

Postby Sarderia » Thu Jan 21, 2021 12:40 pm

    Johannes de Spielman



The last thing he remembered was falling asleep. Strangely, despite the searing pain on both his immobile legs, that night was rather peaceful enough to allow him a good rest. Johannes de Spielman, Captain of the Rotterdam Admiralty, Bewindhebber of the Verenigde Oost-Indische Compagnie, the honorable captain who sank Royal Charles and sent the English soldiers swimming and running with their tails flopping between their legs from Chatham Dockyard, died - alone, undignified, on a small bed on top of a clove warehouse on the rotten piers of Amsterdam. A pack of candles became his parting friends, standing tall and bright upon a small table. Yet he went to sleep with smile on his lips. I have proved, he thought. At least he would die with some renown, and the proud old bewindhebbers of the VOC would bow in respect before his grave, bowing to the upstart of Indies blood that they so despise.

With the last of his strength, Jan muttered the Lord's Prayer. Shortly after "For the kingdom and the power and the glory are yours forever, Amen"; he closed his eyes.




He was jolted from his rest. It was like a peaceful and long sleep was suddenly broken. When he opened his eyes, it was nothing he ever expected. Jan was encased in a metal "coffin" that seemed to be one among many others lined across the large room. He noticed other... corpses? Souls? People? rose out of their coffins as well. Instantly, he made a sign of the Cross. Is this the waiting room for Heaven? Or hell?

But it certainly wasn't both. Or perhaps he has not died at all - perhaps someone stole him and stuffed him into the coffin alongside these other people... toying with him in whatever wicked game they tried to play. This was not the first time Jan saw metal coffins placed in a strange chamber; the Javanese and Chinese had similar tombs constructed in this manner. Although, he must admit, this kind of architecture seemed very alien to him, and rather sterile.

Then he noticed a woman, rather short compared to himself, giving explanations in a funny accent of English. He scoffed. Even in death they still continue to haunt me. But still he listened her explanation, as ridiculous as it gets. I did not die, apparently. Good news, perhaps - although he would surely enjoy what he imagined a peaceful after-life in blessed Eden. What a shame...

It continued to get even more ridiculous. Time Ship? A ship that could travel through time? Jan wondered if he'd drank a gallon of Javanese arrack before he slept (or died), and that this is all just a strange, psychotropic-fueled dream. He cannot comprehend what the woman just said. Eventually, he paid the "time-travelling" part of the explanation no heed, instead answering to introduce himself. Someone else had introduced herself in old German, which Jan remembered he understood only several words, yet somehow he completely knew what she was saying - adding another confusion to the already bewildering set of events. When did I learn ancient German..?

"I know me some Engels," he said. "Fought some. Died 'cause of some. And now in Heaven I have to introduce myself in Engels as well." He sighed. "De Spielman... Johannes de Spielman. Captain of the Rotterdam Admiralty and a... director of the Dutch East India Company. Born 1630, died... 1667." There was no response, and he left immediately, walking through the hallway to find the armory. There was a vast selection of weapons; from swords to muskets to strange guns he's not familiar with. Eventually he picked up three items. One a rapier complete with sheath, the kind a Galleon captain would always have on their side. The other were a flintlock pistol and another handgun, with six revolving barrels - he didn't know how to use it, but he took it nonetheless, out of curiosity.

Jan walked to the crew quarters afterwards; Hannah Brown, the woman explaining their situation earlier, told everyone that spare clothes could be found in the rooms. He was not comfortable wearing his current attire, so he picked up a leather jacket, leather legging, an a plain, short T-shaped shirt. Looked almost a proper sailor. He also took a black leather belt to keep the leggings and tie the rapier on. As he changed, Jan cannot help but notice that he now looked so... fresh. His hair was short; he'd kept a very long hair before, resembling the fashion of the Dutch admirals. There were no scars on his body; even the massive gaping wounds at his legs were gone, now smooth as silk. His face also looked younger, as if he's been aged back a decade.
Last edited by Sarderia on Thu Jan 21, 2021 5:39 pm, edited 4 times in total.
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Grenartia
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Grenartia » Thu Jan 21, 2021 12:52 pm

April 15, 1912, approximately 3am, ship's time on board the Titanic

A curious wave of warmth washed over Elizabeth Carlotta Jones as the cries of hundreds of her fellow victims began to die down, quite literally. The middle-aged woman had been in this freezing water for over 40 minutes at this point. She understood enough about her present situation to know that her time was rapidly approaching. Of course, she wasn't alone. Aside from the hundreds of people (among whom she could only hope her son Todd and husband James were not numbered) within a few hundred meters of her, either already dead or dying just like her, there was one much closer to her. Her life-long companion, the other entity that shared her mind, Athena.

Elizabeth and Athena wrote:"Ironic, isn't it? That the stars are clearer in the sky now, at the moment of our death, than at any other time in our life.", Athena observed.

"Yes, but its no consolation when I don't know how Todd and James are faring.", Elizabeth answered, somewhat irked that Athena could think about anything else at this point.

"Think of it this way: there's nothing either of us can hope to do about it. We can at least rest assured that Sarah, Edna, and definitely John are safe. If Todd and James aren't, we shall see them soon." replied Athena.

"You're right. Speaking of which, I'd like to pray before we go."

"Go ahead. Put in a good word for me."

"O Lord, please hear my plea. I have done my best to abide by your commandments. Please forgive me of my sins, and guide the rest of my family to safety and comfort. In your holy name I pray. Amen.


And with that, Elizabeth and Athena passed into unconsciousness, and then death.




Unknown date, unknown time, Timeship Icarus

The next thing Athena and Elizabeth knew, they were inside a metal and glass capsule of some sort, which had opened up of its own volition, along with several others, whose occupants (of varying sexes and races) were all dressed similar. In the middle, was a young lady who wasn't dressed like the rest of the group.

After a brief question and answer session (and quite a vulgar exchange from a man who was barely older than her sons, and the young lady who seemed to be the leader), a significant number of their questions were answered, only to be replaced by a few dozen more. But before they could be asked, a matter of some importance needed to be addressed first.

Elizabeth and Athena wrote:"It appears we have been given a second chance." Athena stated, matter-of-factly.

"So it seems." Elizabeth replied.

"In that light, I want more autonomy."

"What do you mean? Switching places? Is that even possible?"

"I don't know, but that's not what I meant anyways. I want to be involved in decision making, too, this time. I know you meant well before, but I felt like the audience of a play about my own life, instead of an actress in it."

"That does sound like a terrible experience, so I agree. In that spirit, I think an introduction is necessary."


"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.
Last edited by Grenartia on Thu Jan 21, 2021 1:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Bingellia
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Bingellia » Thu Jan 21, 2021 2:35 pm

Giovanni Caliara


May 23, 1516, The Strait of Sicily, La Felicità

As an Ottoman Corsair charged up, cutlass in hand, the stairs towards him, Caliara gravely understood that firing upon the galley that was hunting them with La Felicità's stern chasers had started a fight that a more levelheaded man would have tried to flee. He thought it was foolish in the morning. The winds were against him, so the Galley held the advantage even if they tried to flee for a Sicilian Port. He couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if he chose to run as he leveled his wheel-lock at his opponent and pulled the trigger.

For a moment, Caliara became oddly aware of the powder in the priming-pan as the wheel struck against the pyrite as his assailant inched closer. Sparks reached the priming charge before the slight but important delay before main charge detonated. When the main charge detonated, so too did breach of his pistol from an accidentally over-sized charge, maiming Caliara's hand and sending wood and metal splint speeding into the right side of his neck, face, and upper torso. At least the shot felled it's target all the same.

As the dampness of blood poured down his neck, Caliara stumbled into a relatively comfortable rest upon the deck and pushed his good hand onto the wound as he felt himself gradually become more light-headed. "What a God forsaken way to go," Caliara thought to himself. "Surrounded by by the dead, the dying and the soon to be enslaved" With a breath or two, he mustered the strength to gargle out a sigh. "I suppose I won't be coming home after all, mia amata."


The Icarus

What greeted him next was the inside of a sterile tube rather than the after live he had expected, but at least Caliara hand was once again whole as he ejected. There were others, dressed like him, some of which speaking languages he knew, if only seemingly slightly off, while others were utterly foreign, and yet he understood as though he was a native speaker. It was as though the City and the Tower had never been built. Vulgarity aside, he soon found his answers courtesy of seemingly armed woman. "My lord," he spoke lowly to himself, "How amazing this all his."

But first Caliara decided, perhaps surprising himself, he would listen and watch. There would be meals served later, which, in his humble opinion, made a far more appropriate time to introduce one's self.
Last edited by Bingellia on Thu Jan 21, 2021 2:39 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Voxija
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Founded: Jan 17, 2019
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Voxija » Thu Jan 21, 2021 2:38 pm

Cornelia Quinta

Dyelli Beybi wrote:The next question felt like a kick in the stomach. The woman had a child... oh God... Hannah had thought her situation was bad, but the unknown woman had had a child. In the world Hannah came from that was something very special and to be torn away from it, "I'm so sorry," she said, her tone softening as she addressed Cornelia, "I don't know. I didn't wake up long before you did. I think we can find out, once I know a little bit more about you; there are records I can access. I'll need to get to grips with the computer first," she said, hoping the woman was from a period where computers existed and wouldn't be completely baffled by the explanation, "It's a lot more sophisticated than the ones I'm used to."


Cornelia sort of expected that this "Hannah" wouldn't know what happened to the baby Cornelia had been giving birth to. But although the name "Hannah" seemed Judean, and "Brown" sounded Germanic, she was a fellow woman, and she felt Cornelia's pain. Cornelia appreciated that Hannah would help her find out, although what was a "computer"? With Cornelia's quickened understanding of English, she figured that a computer was something that calculated sums, although Cornelia got the picture of a dark room filled with dozens of people all working little bits of paper. It seemed that Cornelia would get the time to find out later.

Dyelli Beybi wrote:At last, one she could answer. Sort of. "As I understand it, you'll probably remember dying and then waking up here?" Hannah queried, looking about the group. If she was reading the expressions right it looked like most people did remember that, "You aren't in the after-life, if any of you were thinking that. We are all very much alive. We have been plucked up from wherever we were at that final moment and given a second chance. This next bit is going to sound a bit crazy but once you've had a chance to introduce yourselves and say what the last thing you remember was and when that happened, I think you'll start to see I'm telling the truth."

Hannah paused. Now seemed as good a moment as any to drop the really big news on them, "You are on a 32nd century 'Time Ship', which is to say a Research Vessel that can move through space and time. I'm not entirely sure when we are, I haven't got around to checking that bit yet, but I know we're orbiting the planet earth and there aren't any lights on the dark side so, some time before gas lights?" Hannah shrugged unable to give a better answer than that for the time being, while also realising some of these people were probably from a time before gas lights, "I woke up about half a day ago, it's hard to tell time exactly on this ship, got a really confusing briefing and then basically left to my own devices. The actual crew are, apparently, all dead. I have no idea who any of you are or why we were in those boxes to begin with, but I'm very glad to see some of you waking up because dying the way I did..." she trailed off momentarily, her eyes losing focus as her right hand instinctively twitched towards her weapon as if the grip were some totem of confidence. It was just for a moment, then she refocused on the group, "... well, company is never bad, is it?"

She looked between them again, realising how inadequate her answer was, "The crew of this ship had a mission and we have been asked to continue it; keep the timeline safe. You might want to opt out, I wouldn't blame you though I've been told we can't return to the lives we had and, at least for now, I'm going to take that on face value. I don't know enough about this time travel business to say what might happen if I tried to reinsert myself where I left off. Take the win and don't push your luck any further. What I can tell you for sure, from my brief time looking around is that there is plenty of food on this ship. There are clothes, warm showers and a comfortable place to sleep.

"I'm going to suggest you come with me up to the crew quarters, you mark yourself a room and you find something more comfortable to wear," Hannah continued, "If you feel comfortable with a weapon, the armoury is on this floor. I have no idea who is going to wake up from out of these boxes next and there is no guarantee it won't be someone who collects human noses in a bucket." For that matter Hannah didn't know with any certainty that someone in this group didn't collect human noses in a bucket... "Once you are feeling more human, we can go to the mess hall and have something to eat and I'll tell you a bit more about the mission I was given. Do any of you know how to cook?" Hannah could cook, reasonably well at that, but if cooking was someone else's hobby it might help them to cope with their new reality.

"I'm Hannah Brown," she repeated for those who had missed it earlier, "And as far as anyone outside of this room is concerned, I lived from 2105 to 2134."


There were a lot of concepts Cornelia Quinta didn't know. She had to unpack it. First, a time ship. It could travel through space and time. Did that mean Cornelia could visit the founding of Rome? See how it ended? Visit the far, far future? Cornelia was probably in the far future right now, compared to the Roman Empire. What was gas lights? Cornelia got a vision of candles lit with people's farts.

When Hannah mentioned how the original crew was dead, Cornelia got a chill. This was indeed a place of the dead, in more ways than one. Cornelia could feel Hannah's loneliness and vowed—she would make a friend of the inexperienced captain.

When Cornelia heard that she probably wouldn't be able to return to her old life again, her heart sank. She figured as much, but not being able to see her children, her husband any more was the worst thing. Cornelia hoped that Aemilius would remarry so her kids would have another mother to raise them.

Hannah stopped talking, but she left Cornelia Quinta with many strange questions. She was from the 22th century? Did that mean Rome had flourished for more than 2000 years? Or had some other calendar been developed, one that started in the distant future. Cornelia felt lost in space and time, so she focused on what she knew—people.

The Roman woman examined the group. They all seemed to be from different places in the world, with some sorts of people (Cornelia glanced at Jay) looking like nothing Cornelia had ever seen. Cornelia looked over her own body. She was the same age, but all her stretch marks, all signs of stress, and every reminder of the wear and tear of Iron Age living had disappeared.

Many people had started awakening from their pods and introducing themselves in strange tongues, but somehow, Cornelia understood all of them. She shoved all her questions—what was a timeline, how could she protect it, where and when where all of these people from—into a small part of her mind and settled on ensuring her basic needs—food, clothing, and shelter. Hannah had mentioned quarters, so there would be shelter. The man who looked like no man Cornelia had ever seen before, "Jay", seemed to be cooking, so that was food. Cornelia wondered if Jay knew her favorite delicacy, stuffed dormice.

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?"
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Nagakawa
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Founded: May 01, 2019
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Nagakawa » Thu Jan 21, 2021 4:37 pm

Kang Jae-hyun

“Sure, I can help cook”, Jay replied both Hannah and Jean at once, flashing at Hannah in particular a silly grin. “I’m not sure how many portions I need to prepare, but I’ll d-do my best. To guesstimate. Yea.”

He didn’t sound particularly fazed on the outside, but his mind was roiling like a tempestuous sea. There was just far too much to process, especially all in that one moment, and Jay couldn’t help but feel like his outward veneer of cool, college heartthrob charm would shatter any moment and reveal the shape underneath- that of a shaken and confused man wracked by his nerves and by the fact that for all his earlier bluster about the meaninglessness of modern work life, he was not ready to die.

I might still be in a coma, for all I know. But if that were the case...

“Okay, see you later”, he abruptly added. And with that, Jay waved sheepishly at both Hannah and Jean and quickly made his way over to the living quarters.

...

There was an empty room just beside the Japanese man who’d gone off to find himself weaponry and garb more fitting of his station. Jay didn’t know what to make of him yet, but he figured that, cold as he might possibly be compared to Hannah and Jean, there was no reason to fear him. Jay himself reckoned that he knew a bit on how to handle himself, after all, and it didn’t seem as if the guy meant anyone any harm.

He reminds me of Kiyoshi, incidentally. They look quite alike.

The room wasn’t a luxurious one by most standards, but it had a clean smell and a nice bed and wardrobe, so that alone was enough for Jay. It was far smaller than his uptown Seoul apartment, but importantly, the stench of existential dread and ennui had not yet tainted this space. Yet.

Jay looked into the wardrobe mirror. His eyes widened. He couldn’t believe it- it was as if he was 22 once again. By the time he’d turned 34, he had been dragged so far into the corporate rat race that he’d forgotten what it was like to even have a full head of hair, let alone be young lean and athletic. He had always been a good-looking guy, from middle school all the way until college, but at some point or another, it became too much of a chore to even care for his own body. He stopped doing judo, began drinking, started to grow a belly and lose his hair and develop rings round his eyes. And that was probably the point in time when she, Choi Yong-hui, began to lose her patience with him...

Ok, enough of that. Control your thoughts, Jay. Control your thoughts.

Quickly, Jay changed out into a more comfortable set of clothes- just a plain T-shirt with sweatpants and socks and bedroom slippers- and headed out the room to the kitchen, nodding and smiling at the young Japanese guy (at least, he looked Japanese) as he walked past.

...

The kitchen was stocked surprisingly well. Taking a look inside the fridges, Jay was greeted by the sight of a myriad of fresh foodstuffs and condiments. There wasn’t that much variety, but it was enough to cook up some sumptuous food.

First of all... was some music. There was a radio, complete with what seemed to be a music player with a repository of music from numerous periods of history.

“Hmm... I’ll go with... Heathen, by David Bowie.”

With the crooning, melancholy voice of the Thin White Duke in his later years filling the kitchen, Jay set about to the actual cooking. First would be to estimate how many people there were, and that was the difficult part. In the little time he’d been on the ship, Jay had already seen quite a few people- the Japanese guy, Jean and Hannah, that Lord William dude, and a bunch of other people of all colours and shapes and sizes that he hadn’t had the time nor mood to talk to just yet. Something filling was in order, but not anything cloying- if he was to be the designated cook for this crew, Jay concluded, it would be best to befriend the stomachs of the crew first, with a dish that was both agreeable and satisfying.

Oyakodon. So named because it contained both chicken and eggs. It was the ultimate comfort food, and was popular all round Asia, no matter what one thought of Japanese cuisine in general.

“Oyakodon it is, then”, said Jay to himself.

Immediately, he set to work. He washed a whopping fifteen cups of rice, throwing it all into the rice cooker and flipping a switch, before then setting his attention to the topping. A basic oyakodon topping was chicken, seasoned in soy sauce and rice wine and browned in a pan so that it wouldn’t be soggy, and then mixed with well-beaten eggs, sliced onions, and other assorted additions to taste, and then sizzled all together in a pan and finally dumped over the rice.

As he preheated the pans, took the ingredients out of the fridge and began to slice the chicken thighs, however, Jay could slowly feel his thoughts slipping to other things.

Death. What was death, really? What meaning did it even have now that the cessation of biological function meant, effectively, nothing to him and to all these other people? He, an ordinary man, had conquered death once. What did this entail?

“Nope, enough of that. Cook first, think later. Come on, Jay.”

...
.____________永 河 帝 國____________.
.____________自 他 共 栄____________.


Population: 89 million (2020)
Landmass: 328,036 km²
Capital: Inada
Most populous city: Rushima

Government: Unitary parliamentary constitutional monarchy
Emperor: Tomohito
Prime Minister: Hideyoshi Kaburagi (Republican)
Speaker: Yasuo Isogai
Chief Justice: Hideki Motobu

GDP (PPP): $4.917 trillion
Inequality index: 0.373 (medium)
HDI: 0.902 (very high)
IDI: 85.1 (very highly developed)

Currency: Nagakawan yen (¥)
Internet TLD: .nk
Country code: NGK
Driving side: left
Call code: +133

National flower: empress tree paulownia (Paulownia fortunei)
National bird: red-crowned crane (Grus japonensis)
National sport: judo

User avatar
Demencia
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Posts: 255
Founded: Sep 12, 2010
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Demencia » Thu Jan 21, 2021 4:40 pm

Miriam von Donnersberg


The more people that appeared from the boxes, the less comfortable Miriam felt. She decided to not wait for direction before she rushed to find the armory herself. She wasn't alone there, but she didn't concern herself with anyone else at the moment. A lot of the weapons were strange and unfamiliar, but she found a rack of blades. There were plenty of styles ranging from a simple dagger to an impressive Zweihander. While she could use the larger sword, she stuck with the more familiar Anderthalbhänder. She immediately felt more at ease having it in hand, but she wouldn't stop there. She searched for something specific, looking for something more protective than the strange clothes she had on. There was a lot of things that looked like they could have been armor, but she didn't know what they could protect against. They looked more like heavy pieces of clothing than anything else. She grabbed a handful of padded clothes and a set of plate that looked like she could fit into it.

Miriam stared to head towards where Hannah had said the crews quarters were when she caught a reflection of herself in the gleaming metal of the armor. She stopped dead in her tracks and lifted the breastplate up to her face. The reflection of her own face staring back at her caused her stomach to sink. It'd been years since she'd seen her face unmarred by the scar over her eye, so much that she often forgot what it was like without it. She turned her head away suddenly, eyes shut tight with emotion. This couldn't go on. She set the armor down on a table and walked back to a case full of knives. Her hand tentatively reached for one, shaking a little. She held the breastplate back up so she could see her reflection again. She took a deep breath and prepared herself.

Outside of the armory, a scream could be heard followed by a clattering of metal. A few moments later, Miriam came stumbling out with her hand over her left eye, blood seeping out from under it and running down her face. "Meine... Ehre..." she muttered weakly.


In order of appearance:
Hand-and-a-half sword

"My honor"

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