Let's Play Choice of Broadsides, Chapter Five, Part One
Previous chapter is here.
The game is HERE. A great review of it is over at Jayisgames, and my "review" is here. If you think this game sounds fun, play it before reading, because there will be massive spoilers after the cut.
Note: beware slightly spicier language, because in this one I start swearing... like a sailor. *Badum-tish.*
You experience the greatest thrill of your life when you step onto the deck of your first command, H.M.S. Reliant. You are very pleased indeed by what you observe there--he is a gleaming almost-new frigate that reportedly handles like a charm, crewed by good women obviously accustomed to working well together. A plum command, particularly for a new captain such as yourself. That night, you dream of all the fine things you will do now that you have a ship of your own.
Sounds excellent! What's the catch?
In the morning, you wake to a general hullaballoo on the dock and in the streets of Chesterport. Peace has been declared between Albion and Gaul.
Oh, the details are not yet finalized, but documents have been signed and hostilities suspended. Before you know it, you find yourself once again in front of the captain who commands the port--but this time, to hear the unwelcome news that Reliant is to be paid off. That is, decommissioned. The Admiralty won't have need of such a large fleet in peacetime.
Your career has--for the moment, at least--vanished in a puff of smoke and diplomats.
Well. That was fast. You'd think we'd have known more about this beforehand. I guess Smythe just isn't that interested in politics. Especially not out at sea.
"Might there be any chance of another command becoming available, ma'am?" you ask deferentially.
The Captain grimaces. "I wish I could say, Madam Smythe. There will be ships needing captains, of course, but there will also be a great many post-captains and commanders seeking positions. A bright youngster like yourself has a tolerable chance, but. . . it may be some time. Oh, but it's not so bad! You're entitled to half-pay, and of course you have your prize money. You should enjoy your leave. You will receive a letter when a command becomes available."
How are you feeling about this?
That's not a bad question. Smythe has been a sailor (of sorts) since she was ten. Sailing is all she knows, and all of her skills are related to the Navy. Without a ship, where would she go? What would she do?
Of course, this doesn't mean we'll be stranded on land forever. In fact, peace is rather a good thing. So I could feel A) Pleased with my vacation and assured that I would find another command soon, B) Resigned, but willing to wait, or C) Nervous, because I don't know how long I can keep this up. I pick (B), because Smythe is a cautious yet dutiful officer, and this will provide a nice bit of irony for later on.
A perfectly understandable reaction.
One day some weeks later, on your way back from drawing your half-pay, you run into your old friend Bryce. "Smythe, what good luck to meet up with you! You must come and dine with me tonight. I want to introduce you to my husband."
Husband? I didn't know you were married!
You enjoy the meal very much. Mr. Bryce is a charming host, gracious and sweet and well-mannered, and Bryce is obviously devoted to him. After dinner, you and Bryce sit drinking rum and storytelling long into the night.
Suddenly Bryce says, "So what about you, Smythe? High time you got married, isn't it?" She looks at you shrewdly and laughs. "You're about to tell me you've been too busy to think of it. Well, you'll have plenty of leisure while you're on half-pay! You should think about it now!"
You consider the idea. What do you conclude?
Marriage! The final frontier! I like these next options, so I will quote them:
A) "Bryce seems to have stumbled onto a good thing. It might be. . .kind of nice to have something like this myself. A home to return to, a loving husband. . ."
B) "Bryce is right: marriage to the right kind of man could be very useful as I try to advance my career."
C) "Marriage? Not me! I don't want to be tied down to anyone."
D) "The idea of a husband has never held any appeal for me. . .It's not--ahem--it's not men I find attractive, you see."
Oh, Captain Smythe, let's be honest with ourselves. You're gay, so very gay. You and option (D) go together like bees and honey, like... well, like you and pretty girls. Let's go with that one and see what new and exciting horizons open up for us, shall we?
Oh! Oh, I see. Well, that's not unheard-of for Royal Naval officers, although it's not the sort of thing you can talk about in polite society.
But separate from any. . . other arrangements you might want to make for your own personal fulfillment, there is the question of the advantage a good marriage could give you, as you pursue your career. You wouldn't be the only Naval officer to have a husband back home and. . . other arrangements. . . somewhere else. I mean, it's not as though you'd have to see your husband very often.
So what are you going to tell Bryce?
Meaning, what will we do now? Should we get married for the sake of advancing our career and fitting into society, or should we refuse on the pretense of not wanting to be tied down? Fuck society, man. I wasn't that ambitious anyway. We're gonna go with Confirmed Bachelorette.
"Well, all right," Bryce says, "if that's the way you want it. Have another glass."
And to her credit, Bryce doesn't bring up the topic again. She does, however, convince you to go with her and Mr. Bryce to the Assembly rooms one evening. Truth to tell, you're not hard to convince: even if you're not in search of a husband, an Assembly is quite a sight to see.
The Assembly rooms are crowded with young people dancing and flirting. In rooms off to one side, those disinclined to dance or flirt are playing at cards. You walk around the ballroom, getting your bearings, enjoying the pomp and circumstance and splendor. . .
Suddenly, a voice you know cuts through the chatter around you.
"Madam Smythe!"
You turn, astonished. It is Lieutenant Villeneuve.
OMG IT'S VILLENEUVE. I MISSED YOU SO MUCH, VILLENEUVE.
She is not wearing the uniform of the Gaulish Navy, but it is unmistakably the same woman whom you met aboard a Gaulish prize some time ago. The years since have treated her well--her skin is more weather-beaten, perhaps, and a scar seams her left cheek, but she looks to be otherwise in good health and good spirits. And not hurting for money, either: she is dressed in a very fine linen shirt and a coat with gleaming gold buttons, and she carries a pair of elegant gloves such as a gentlewoman wears when dancing. She has clearly come to this Assembly intending to dance. It is a small shock to you to realize that a Gaulish officer is here as someone's invited guest.
Translation: she is lookin' MIGHTY FINE.
How do you respond?
I drool some more. As for Smythe, a stoic and dignified woman, she can go two routes: A)"My goodness, what a surprise to see you here, madame," or B)"What the fuck Why in blazes are you here? (Again, these are paraphrased.) I'm obviously going with (A).
"It is a surprise to see you as well." Her Albionish comes more easily than it did when you first met, though it is still heavily accented. "Though I do acknowledge the surprise must be much more great on your side--to encounter me upon the soil of Albion--no?" She smiles disarmingly.
I'll bet. Why, she's charming the pants off of us already, and she's barely said anything. Though, this could be the wine talking.
"I have cousins who reside not far from here. Many Gaulish families can say the same. Marriages in between Gaul and Albion are not uncommon, after all, during the years of peace. And the years of peace have returned. . ." She gestures around the pleasant room. ". . . so a woman once again has freedom to visit her relations. It is a very fine thing, peace. It permits--" She inclines her head at you. "--civilized gentlewomen to interact in a civilized manner."
This is as frank an overture of friendship as any you have ever seen. What do you do?
YES, LET'S BE FRIENDS. To my everlasting surprise, there is more than one option.
A) "Respond in kind. Villeneuve is a woman of honor. There is no reason to think her any less than sincere." This is obviously the one and only correct answer, but they try to trick us by letting us do these other things.
B) "Proceed warily. Villeneuve is a Gaul, after all, and the war hasn't been over for that long. She might have some nefarious purpose in seeking my friendship." ("Also, I am an overly cautious and prejudiced idiot and can't believe I used the word nefarious. What a dork.")
C)"Pretend to respond in kind. It could be useful later if Villeneuve comes to trust me. Perhaps she will tell me things. The peace might not last, after all." ("Also, I am an evil, scheming jerk and a terrible human being.")
D)"Put this presumptuous Gaul in her place." ("Also, I am a prejudiced, belligerent jerk and a terrible human being.")
We're doing the right thing. The honourable thing. (A) it is.
"So it does," you say. You raise your wine glass. "To civilization."
"Civilization," Villeneuve agrees, and raises her back. More quietly, she says, "You treated me with great respect when I was your prisoner, and I have never forgotten that. It was not always so. I watched many Albionish officers mistreat those they captured, and so the honorable ones shone all the brighter."
S-so how bright did we shine, madame?
Before you can respond, a young, fair-haired Albionish woman emerges from the crowd and touches Villeneuve's sleeve. She begins, "Claire wondered if you wished to join us at whist--" and then notices you. "Oh, apologies."
"This is my cousin, Madam Christy-Palliere," Villeneuve says to you. "Cousin, may I present Madam Smythe. So you and Claire are in search of whist players?" Villeneuve raises an eyebrow at you. "Perhaps you would care to play, ma'am?"
Would we ever! We can either: A) Agree, because we want to get to know Villeneuve better, B) Agree, because we're not sure where she's going with this (and we're either oblivious or suspicious to an unhealthy degree), or C) Decline, because we are insane. Of course, we pick (A).
You retreat to the card room with Villeneuve and her cousin, where you are introduced to a thin, middle-aged Albionish woman identified as Claire Gilchrist. Gilchrist and Christy-Palliere couldn't care less about getting to know you: they just want to play whist. The four of you sit down at a polished oak table.
We're frankly not interested in getting to know them, either. There is but one person who we are desperately curious about.
You draw lots to pick partners, and you and Gilchrist team up against Villeneuve and Christy-Palliere. You look at Villeneuve's face; you can't tell what she is thinking. You think of the deck of the Gaulish prize ship, ocean heaving all around you, shots and shouts echoing in your ears. The card room is warm and dimly-lit and somewhat stuffy with the smoke of the other card-players' pipes and cigars. This is bizarre.
Aw, we're feeling lost, like a fish out of water. But this chapter is getting long, so I will have to split it up into two parts.
What will happen? Will Smythe succeed in unravelling the mystery that is Villeneuve? And who will win the game of whist? Tune in next time to find out!
The game is HERE. A great review of it is over at Jayisgames, and my "review" is here. If you think this game sounds fun, play it before reading, because there will be massive spoilers after the cut.
Note: beware slightly spicier language, because in this one I start swearing... like a sailor. *Badum-tish.*
You experience the greatest thrill of your life when you step onto the deck of your first command, H.M.S. Reliant. You are very pleased indeed by what you observe there--he is a gleaming almost-new frigate that reportedly handles like a charm, crewed by good women obviously accustomed to working well together. A plum command, particularly for a new captain such as yourself. That night, you dream of all the fine things you will do now that you have a ship of your own.
Sounds excellent! What's the catch?
In the morning, you wake to a general hullaballoo on the dock and in the streets of Chesterport. Peace has been declared between Albion and Gaul.
Oh, the details are not yet finalized, but documents have been signed and hostilities suspended. Before you know it, you find yourself once again in front of the captain who commands the port--but this time, to hear the unwelcome news that Reliant is to be paid off. That is, decommissioned. The Admiralty won't have need of such a large fleet in peacetime.
Your career has--for the moment, at least--vanished in a puff of smoke and diplomats.
Well. That was fast. You'd think we'd have known more about this beforehand. I guess Smythe just isn't that interested in politics. Especially not out at sea.
"Might there be any chance of another command becoming available, ma'am?" you ask deferentially.
The Captain grimaces. "I wish I could say, Madam Smythe. There will be ships needing captains, of course, but there will also be a great many post-captains and commanders seeking positions. A bright youngster like yourself has a tolerable chance, but. . . it may be some time. Oh, but it's not so bad! You're entitled to half-pay, and of course you have your prize money. You should enjoy your leave. You will receive a letter when a command becomes available."
How are you feeling about this?
That's not a bad question. Smythe has been a sailor (of sorts) since she was ten. Sailing is all she knows, and all of her skills are related to the Navy. Without a ship, where would she go? What would she do?
Of course, this doesn't mean we'll be stranded on land forever. In fact, peace is rather a good thing. So I could feel A) Pleased with my vacation and assured that I would find another command soon, B) Resigned, but willing to wait, or C) Nervous, because I don't know how long I can keep this up. I pick (B), because Smythe is a cautious yet dutiful officer, and this will provide a nice bit of irony for later on.
A perfectly understandable reaction.
One day some weeks later, on your way back from drawing your half-pay, you run into your old friend Bryce. "Smythe, what good luck to meet up with you! You must come and dine with me tonight. I want to introduce you to my husband."
Husband? I didn't know you were married!
You enjoy the meal very much. Mr. Bryce is a charming host, gracious and sweet and well-mannered, and Bryce is obviously devoted to him. After dinner, you and Bryce sit drinking rum and storytelling long into the night.
Suddenly Bryce says, "So what about you, Smythe? High time you got married, isn't it?" She looks at you shrewdly and laughs. "You're about to tell me you've been too busy to think of it. Well, you'll have plenty of leisure while you're on half-pay! You should think about it now!"
You consider the idea. What do you conclude?
Marriage! The final frontier! I like these next options, so I will quote them:
A) "Bryce seems to have stumbled onto a good thing. It might be. . .kind of nice to have something like this myself. A home to return to, a loving husband. . ."
B) "Bryce is right: marriage to the right kind of man could be very useful as I try to advance my career."
C) "Marriage? Not me! I don't want to be tied down to anyone."
D) "The idea of a husband has never held any appeal for me. . .It's not--ahem--it's not men I find attractive, you see."
Oh, Captain Smythe, let's be honest with ourselves. You're gay, so very gay. You and option (D) go together like bees and honey, like... well, like you and pretty girls. Let's go with that one and see what new and exciting horizons open up for us, shall we?
Oh! Oh, I see. Well, that's not unheard-of for Royal Naval officers, although it's not the sort of thing you can talk about in polite society.
But separate from any. . . other arrangements you might want to make for your own personal fulfillment, there is the question of the advantage a good marriage could give you, as you pursue your career. You wouldn't be the only Naval officer to have a husband back home and. . . other arrangements. . . somewhere else. I mean, it's not as though you'd have to see your husband very often.
So what are you going to tell Bryce?
Meaning, what will we do now? Should we get married for the sake of advancing our career and fitting into society, or should we refuse on the pretense of not wanting to be tied down? Fuck society, man. I wasn't that ambitious anyway. We're gonna go with Confirmed Bachelorette.
"Well, all right," Bryce says, "if that's the way you want it. Have another glass."
And to her credit, Bryce doesn't bring up the topic again. She does, however, convince you to go with her and Mr. Bryce to the Assembly rooms one evening. Truth to tell, you're not hard to convince: even if you're not in search of a husband, an Assembly is quite a sight to see.
The Assembly rooms are crowded with young people dancing and flirting. In rooms off to one side, those disinclined to dance or flirt are playing at cards. You walk around the ballroom, getting your bearings, enjoying the pomp and circumstance and splendor. . .
Suddenly, a voice you know cuts through the chatter around you.
"Madam Smythe!"
You turn, astonished. It is Lieutenant Villeneuve.
OMG IT'S VILLENEUVE. I MISSED YOU SO MUCH, VILLENEUVE.
She is not wearing the uniform of the Gaulish Navy, but it is unmistakably the same woman whom you met aboard a Gaulish prize some time ago. The years since have treated her well--her skin is more weather-beaten, perhaps, and a scar seams her left cheek, but she looks to be otherwise in good health and good spirits. And not hurting for money, either: she is dressed in a very fine linen shirt and a coat with gleaming gold buttons, and she carries a pair of elegant gloves such as a gentlewoman wears when dancing. She has clearly come to this Assembly intending to dance. It is a small shock to you to realize that a Gaulish officer is here as someone's invited guest.
Translation: she is lookin' MIGHTY FINE.
How do you respond?
I drool some more. As for Smythe, a stoic and dignified woman, she can go two routes: A)"My goodness, what a surprise to see you here, madame," or B)"What the fuck Why in blazes are you here? (Again, these are paraphrased.) I'm obviously going with (A).
"It is a surprise to see you as well." Her Albionish comes more easily than it did when you first met, though it is still heavily accented. "Though I do acknowledge the surprise must be much more great on your side--to encounter me upon the soil of Albion--no?" She smiles disarmingly.
I'll bet. Why, she's charming the pants off of us already, and she's barely said anything. Though, this could be the wine talking.
"I have cousins who reside not far from here. Many Gaulish families can say the same. Marriages in between Gaul and Albion are not uncommon, after all, during the years of peace. And the years of peace have returned. . ." She gestures around the pleasant room. ". . . so a woman once again has freedom to visit her relations. It is a very fine thing, peace. It permits--" She inclines her head at you. "--civilized gentlewomen to interact in a civilized manner."
This is as frank an overture of friendship as any you have ever seen. What do you do?
YES, LET'S BE FRIENDS. To my everlasting surprise, there is more than one option.
A) "Respond in kind. Villeneuve is a woman of honor. There is no reason to think her any less than sincere." This is obviously the one and only correct answer, but they try to trick us by letting us do these other things.
B) "Proceed warily. Villeneuve is a Gaul, after all, and the war hasn't been over for that long. She might have some nefarious purpose in seeking my friendship." ("Also, I am an overly cautious and prejudiced idiot and can't believe I used the word nefarious. What a dork.")
C)"Pretend to respond in kind. It could be useful later if Villeneuve comes to trust me. Perhaps she will tell me things. The peace might not last, after all." ("Also, I am an evil, scheming jerk and a terrible human being.")
D)"Put this presumptuous Gaul in her place." ("Also, I am a prejudiced, belligerent jerk and a terrible human being.")
We're doing the right thing. The honourable thing. (A) it is.
"So it does," you say. You raise your wine glass. "To civilization."
"Civilization," Villeneuve agrees, and raises her back. More quietly, she says, "You treated me with great respect when I was your prisoner, and I have never forgotten that. It was not always so. I watched many Albionish officers mistreat those they captured, and so the honorable ones shone all the brighter."
S-so how bright did we shine, madame?
Before you can respond, a young, fair-haired Albionish woman emerges from the crowd and touches Villeneuve's sleeve. She begins, "Claire wondered if you wished to join us at whist--" and then notices you. "Oh, apologies."
"This is my cousin, Madam Christy-Palliere," Villeneuve says to you. "Cousin, may I present Madam Smythe. So you and Claire are in search of whist players?" Villeneuve raises an eyebrow at you. "Perhaps you would care to play, ma'am?"
Would we ever! We can either: A) Agree, because we want to get to know Villeneuve better, B) Agree, because we're not sure where she's going with this (and we're either oblivious or suspicious to an unhealthy degree), or C) Decline, because we are insane. Of course, we pick (A).
You retreat to the card room with Villeneuve and her cousin, where you are introduced to a thin, middle-aged Albionish woman identified as Claire Gilchrist. Gilchrist and Christy-Palliere couldn't care less about getting to know you: they just want to play whist. The four of you sit down at a polished oak table.
We're frankly not interested in getting to know them, either. There is but one person who we are desperately curious about.
You draw lots to pick partners, and you and Gilchrist team up against Villeneuve and Christy-Palliere. You look at Villeneuve's face; you can't tell what she is thinking. You think of the deck of the Gaulish prize ship, ocean heaving all around you, shots and shouts echoing in your ears. The card room is warm and dimly-lit and somewhat stuffy with the smoke of the other card-players' pipes and cigars. This is bizarre.
Aw, we're feeling lost, like a fish out of water. But this chapter is getting long, so I will have to split it up into two parts.
What will happen? Will Smythe succeed in unravelling the mystery that is Villeneuve? And who will win the game of whist? Tune in next time to find out!