01st Landing / Video

[landfall]

[ Here, island, have Racetrack, aka Margaret Edmondson, navigator on the Redeemer, poring over her maps. Her maps, the ones she's embellished on from the Navy standard ones.

(She's known as more-or-less reliable. She's better in a crisis than in a long, boring voyage. Good drinking buddy. Plays a mean hand of cards.) ]

So, I've been looking over my maps, and... [ She glances up to the device and realizes, to her horror, that it is broadcasting in the clear. ]

Frak.

[ Private to the Redeemer crew, sob ]

I've been looking over my maps. And as far as I can tell... this island doesn't exist. Either that or I'm so far off in my calculations that we're hundreds of miles from where we should be.

[ And she glares at the camera, daring someone to suggest this is the more plausible option. ]

...I'll keep working on it.

[ open spam ]

[ She probably grabbed you from your duties. Or ran into you in the forest, and decided to drag you along because she sure doesn't want to climb trees and pick fruit. Or maybe it's a scouting party to check out the state of that pirate ship across the way. Or she just wandered a little ways off from the ship and got totally lost, as excellent navigators tend to do.

Either way, she's not very stealthy. Especially when cursing a blue streak at a plant that's entangled itself with her limbs, clothes and/or holsters. ]

Comments

[video]

[routemistress]

...And what, cutie?

[Pirate!Iris is smirking at you.]

[video]

[landfall]

[ oh no a pirateeee ]

And frak, obviously.

[video]

[routemistress]

That Navy lingo for oh no we're all about to get disembowelled, is it, my poppet?

[She grins, wide and ferocious.]

Don't fret, cutie, I'll save you for last.

[video]

[landfall]

It's Navy lingo for 'look at your own maps'. [ Snapped back, because in no way is she unnerved at all oh no never. ]

[video]

[routemistress]

I don't need no maps, kitten. I always know just where I am.

[Knowing where anything else is in relation to her, of course, is another matter; but that's not Iris' department.]

spamadocious

[deshabille]

[Here's the thing about broadcasting in the clear: you make a target of yourself. Not necessarily a bad target, even, just a target, and that's why, when Mal hears a familiar voice, a voice that's not of her crew, she thinks: 1. could steal from; 2. could get information from; 3. who is that.]

[Plus, it's really good cursing.]

[Look, Racetrack: it's a pirate, abruptly leaning against a tree like she's been there all along.]

The navy's getting desperate, I see.

spamilistic

[landfall]

[ Listen the tree just up and grabbed her, its bark is all thorny like someone thought what would be the best way to snag this cloth that Racetrack is wearing and specifically designed a plant to grow to that mold. So it's the third time in a row she's trying to navigate through something that turns out isn't actually a path in the undergrowth and a tree snags her again and she lost her temper a little bit.

Granted she only did because she was pretty sure these trees muffle sound at a distance, so when a voice returns, she twitches like the Captain just called her name, and spins, her hand moving to rest on the butt of her pistol. She has two of them. One strapped to each thigh.

Unfortunately, this movement leaves a little bit of her sleeve hanging off of the tree. ]

Ah! I liked this shirt.

[ But an accomplished fighter will be able to tell: she actually is watching Mal, and the way she rests her hand on the pistol says she knows how to use it. ]

spamtastic

[deshabille]

Too bad. It doesn't like you.

[If nothing else, Mal is an accomplished fighter. And though she spits casual from every line of her body right now, there's something around the eyes that advertises she draws quick. One pistol at her waist, because she doesn't need two - her own way of bragging.]

And the island doesn't seem to like you, either. No friends around here.

. . . I heard you were looking over your maps.

spamply

[landfall]

You don't think so? I think it does good things for my figure.

[ Ah. Maps. Damn. A flicker of consternation over her face because seriously how could she have made such an incredibly stupid mistake?

At least navigators are in high demand. More likely for her to be captured than killed outright. ]

You'd be surprised how many of my friends are close.

[ That lagoon is around here somewhere, isn't it? ]

Redeemer filter

[missisley]

Hundreds of miles?

What will become of us if we've drifted so far off course? How could this have happened?

[Miss Pamela Isley, companion to Zev Bellringer and part of the small contingent of upper-class civilian passengers who have been mixed up in this dreadful pirate chasing business.]

Redeemer filter

[landfall]

[ o no alarmed a civilian. Damage control! ]

Ma'am, my theory is that this is an uncharted island. We'll have a more accurate look at our location when the stars come out, of course, but I think that we're not so far off of our original course and that we should be able to make it back to port maybe only a week later than originally expected.

Redeemer filter

[missisley]

I will pray that you're right.

And what should we do while repairs are made? The Rage and its awful crew are not so very far away.

Redeemer filter

[landfall]

Pirates are cowards. They prey on weak ships.

They won't have the guts to attack us.

[ So she hopes. ]

[Redeemer filter]

[dalekemperor]

[Oh, great, it's that inventor. Mister Davros, No-First-Name. He's beyond bizarre and the brass don't trust his inventions, but what he HAS been allowed to put together has worked just fine.]

Might I take a look at your calculations?

[Redeemer filter]

[landfall]

[ Oh, him. ]

...why? You think you can do better?

[Redeemer filter]

[dalekemperor]

Perhaps. I would have to look at them first, though.

[Redeemer filter]

[landfall]

Do you even know anything about navigation?

Redeemer Filter

[technophilic]

[ Satsuki is sticking close to the ship, while she can. God only knows what's out there, and she's little more than a deck hand. She's probably needed here, or something, she doesn't know. ]

Obviously it does exist. Maybe your maps are just wrong.

Redeemer Filter

[landfall]

They're not wrong, they're incomplete.

Redeemer Filter

[technophilic]

Which is another way of saying that they're wrong. How long until you can find the way back to civilization, do you think?

Redeemer Filter

[landfall]

As soon as I get a good look at the night sky I'll know better, but I'd say we can make it to port only a week or so behind schedule.

[ And she is sticking by this estimate, damn it. B| ]

[Filter]

[unknownsoldier]

What's wrong with your maps?

[Zack mostly keeps to himself aboard the ship, looking after his younger brother Ben, but this island has him feeling uneasy. Call it instinct, that comes from being at sea too long.]

[Filter]

[landfall]

Nothing. They are perfectly accurate and very much devoid of 'here there be dragons'.

[Filter]

[unknownsoldier]

That's not possible. [She's one of the best mapmakers he knows.] Can you figure out where we are relative to our last port?

[Filter]

[landfall]

I have a good guess. It'll be a better guess once the stars are out.

But this island is definitely not marked in the zone I think we're in.