*set age 11
*set year 2159

You couldn't have known, with as young as you were, that you would miss days like that.

*page_break 5 years ago

While travelling to Alaska, your family being as careful as always to watch out for bandits and pirates,
a storm appeared out of nowhere. The waves had grown so gigantic and ferocious that, even with a fishing vessel as
large as the one you travelled on, the boat was nearly tipped onto its side every few minutes.

You remember your father and mother wrapping themselves around you to soften the blows as you were tossed around
the lower decks. The thunder had made your teeth chatter against each other and the darkness that was only illuminated
from the brief flashes of lighning had you near in tears.

It wasn't until the metal door had slammed open, startling you out of your skin, that the feeling of true dread settled in your
stomach.

"Callan can't keep this up," Eron, the ship's doctor, brought your uncle in and nearly dropped him on the ground. "He's exhausted
and in great need of stiches in several places."

"Then get to work damn it!" It was the first time you'd heard your mom curse. You could remember the queasiness that settled in your stomach from the
uncertainty that came with that realization.

"Someone is needed to keep the rigging stable! And Callan..." Dr. Eron trailed off and your young mind scrambled to catch up.
You could feel your parents shifting you in their arms until your father stood up.

*page_break No...

"I'll do it. I'm strong enough to hold the ropes while Ingrid steers us back to safer waters."

*page_break Dad please...

You didn't understand. Your dad was leaving. He was going outside he was going out he was [i]leaving[/i] you where was he [b]going[/b]?

What do you do?

*choice

 #Beg him not to go.
  *goto beg
 #Cry
  *goto cry
 #Get angry at Dr. Eron. He should've been taking care of Uncle Callan!
  *set eron %-5
  *goto angry
 #Offer to go out yourself.
  *goto offer

*label beg
"Dad please! Please don't go! Stay here and-" You don't remember when the tears had started, but they were pouring down your cheeks.
Your father pressed his lips to your forehead, holding your cheeks in his hands.

"Don't worry ${name}," He smiled at you. A smile you would remember for the rest of your life. It was sad...and reminded you of goodbye.
"I'll be right back. Take care of mom and Uncle Callan while I'm gone."
*page_break Back to the present...
*goto present

 *label cry
 You didn't mean to start crying, it just happened. Uncle Callan was hurt. Dad was leaving. And you couldn't do anything to help.
"Papa please..."

Your couldn't tell through your own haze of tears but at seeing you in this state tears had sprung to your father's eyes.
"${name}," He was wiping at your puffy eyes with a gentle hand. "Sweet baby ${boy} listen to me. Everything is gonna be okay. You just
stay strong, take care of mom and Uncle Callan, and I'll be back soon."

Your dad smiled. And you'd never seen him look so much like he was saying goodbye.
*page_break Back to the present...
*goto present

 *label angry
 "No! Dad you don't gotta go! Make [i]him[/i] go, it's his fault Uncle Callan is like this anyway! He wasn't doing his-"
Your words were cut off by your father's hand pressing over your mouh.

"${name} don't. It's all going to be okay, you just take care of mom and Uncle Callan until I come back." And your dad smiled at you.
The last smile you'd ever see from him.
*page_break Back to the present...
*goto present

 *label offer
 "I can do it! I'm strong and I could hold the ropes and dad can-" You were starting to babble. You did that when you got desperate, or scared.
And your dad knew this. Maybe that was why he reached out to cup your cheeks.

"It's going to be alright ${name}. I know you want to help, so look after mom and Uncle Callan for me until I come back. Alright?" You didn't get to
answer and if you had the words wouldn't have made it past your lips, because your father smiled at you.

A smile that said goodbye.
*page_break Back to the present...
*goto present

*label present
"Hey shortstuff, you still with me?" Uncle Callan was standing in front of you, brushing dusty hands on his knees and looking at you from beneath his omnipresent hat. You didn't even
get to open your mouth when he was twisting you this way and that, poking your sides and proding your shoulders, while looking you up and down. You attempted to bat him
away only for him to catch your wrist and look over your arm.

"$!{name} you ain't hurt right? Your mom told me not to take ya onto land but I don't ever listen..." 

You did your best to keep your voice level but you could tell
when your uncle was going into 'overprotective' mode. "Uncle Callan I'm fine. And besides, I need to learn
how to take care of myself out here right? I'm gonna get my own position on the ship soon and I need to know how
to navigate the world!" You tried to stop his worrying but your words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"Kid, no one knows how to navigate this world anymore. And don't let no one tell you otherwise." 
*page_break

This wasn't the first time you've had something like this said to you.
Everyone on the ship has warned you about the near-apocalyptic world. After World War III ended in 2130 everything seemed to spiral downwards. When civil unrest 
began growing, as the countries not devastated by the war collapsed into an International Depression, organized crime syndicates rose to power worldwide. With the governments 
weakened by war, what remained of the militaries sick of fighting while their families back home starved, it took very little for these syndicates to topple the last remains
of structure into the ground.

It also helped that they were being backed by 80% of the population. After all, they had food and healthcare and education...all the things many governments
had long since cut funding for.

Two hands were pinching your cheeks before you could lose yourself any furhter in your own thoughts. "Hey kid, what ya got goin' on in that head of yours?"

What do you say?

*choice
 #"It's nothing Callan, don't worry about it."
  *set empathy %+5
  *set ruthless %-6
  *set stubborn %-5
  *set will %+5
  *set callan %+5
  *goto smile
 #"Stop treating me like a child! I don't need you fussing over me all the time!"
  *set ruthless %+5
  *set stubborn %+5
  *set will %+5
  *set callan %-10
  *goto tantrum
 #"I was just thinking about the world, that's all."
  *set intelligence %+10
  *set lazy %-5
  *set perception %+5
  *goto brainy
 #"Are you okay Callan? You're worrying more than usual, I think."
   *set perception %+10
   *set ruthless %-5
   *set empathy %+5
   *set callan %+10
   *goto worried

*label smile
"You know you ain't fooling me, right ${name}? Now c'mon and tell your uncle what's got you so twisted up." You shook your head, jogging ahead of your uncle along the
concrete of Batangas International Port. It was hard to imagine that this was once a bustling hub of activity, even one of the largest ports in the Philippines. Now,
thanks to the bombings that occured during World War III, it was lucky to have a few makeshift docks where boats like yours could land and trade for supplies.

You didn't know how Uncle Callan always knew when something
was bothering you but, especially at times like these, you couldn't help but feel slightly exasperated. If you told him wouldn't that just make him worry more? But if 
you didn't he would just keep bugging you until-

"Honestly shortstuff," The feeling of a baseball cap being pushed onto your head made you groan good-naturedly. "You've got a shit pokerface." Chewing your lip you turned
to your uncle.

"Uncle Callan," Your uncle noted the serious tone in your voice and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, hugging you to his side. "Can I ask you some questions?"

"If this is about the birds and the bees ask your mom kid."

"It's not about that!"

"Is your translator glitching again? I could have Louise look at it...or Ana. But I wouldn't go with the latter unless you wanted to stick a seashell in your ear
every day."

"No Uncle Callan, my translator's fine."

"Ask away then."
*goto questions

*label tantrum
The flash of hurt that crossed your uncle's face didn't escape your notice. He let his arms drop to his sides, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and looked away. "Look ki....
${name}. I know you're a tough kid, but that's what you are. A kid. A kid who lost their dad too soon because of...Anyway it doesn't matter. If you've got somethin' you
want to talk about, or ask, just let me know. If it's about your dad..."

Your uncle trailed off and you snapped. "I don't want to talk about my dad! This has nothing to do with him anyway!" You shook your head and stormed off down the concrete of
Batangas International Port. You didn't care to remember what it used to be, one of the busiest sea ports in the Philippines before the war, because all it was now was just a
collection of barely maintained docks where boats like yours could come in and trade supplies. Not that it mattered much.

"${name}! Just what is goin' on with you?" You wanted to be angry, to be resentful, but what good was it going to do? You had questions.

And your uncle may have answers.

"I want to talk about The Before time." You noticed your uncle sigh, and then shrug.

"I'll answer what I can."
*goto questions

*label brainy
"Ah kid you think about this place way too much. It ain't as big as it seems to be, not nearly as complicated either." You puffed out you cheeks, glaring at your uncle
with undisguised scrutiny.

"You just said no one knew anything about the world!" Poking your uncle's shoulder you watched the wry smirk grow on his lips. He glanced at you over his shoulder before sighing,
stretching his arms up to the sky, and setting a brisk pace down the concrete of Banagas International Port.

"Can you believe this place used to be one o' the biggest ports in the Philippines?" The quick wave your uncle did toward the row of makeshift docks that made up most of the port
seemed almost...sad. "And now it's just this. Bunch of scavengers and survivors trading everything they own just to keep livin' in this world." You were walking behind him, resisting the urge
to reach out and yank him back toward you by his tattered sweatshirt, when he stopped so suddenly that you collided with his back.

Turning around he grabbed your shoulders, leaning down just a bit so that he was eye level with you. "That's what I meant ${name}. No one knows how to prosper anymore, or do
anything besides survive. We're all jus' livin' until one day we don't."

You stared at him, stunned by his sudden honesty, before the thoughts came racing back into your mind. "Uncle Callan, may I ask you some questions?"

"Course you can kid. Don't know if you'll like the answers though."
*goto questions

*label worried
"Don't try and turn this around on me kiddo. If you keep deflectin' these questions I'm gonna know something's seriously wrong." You sighed, allowing your uncle to resume
his examination. Once he was satisified that you were still in one piece he seemed to calm down.

Until you started coughing.

It wasn't serious; just a tickle in your throat actually. But to Uncle Callan you might as well have, quite literally, thrown up a lung. His hazel eyes grew wide as
saucers as cleared your throat. As you held up one hand in a 'stop' motion, prepared to give him an explanation after you finished, only to find your face cupped between
two calloused hands.

"Your mom's gonna murder my ass kid oh shit I should've been more careful I should've never taken you off the ship this is my fault just like your dad it's all my-"

So that was it. Uncle Callan was still blaming himself for your dad's death.
Wrapping your arms around your uncle's chest you hugged him the way you remember your dad hugging you; squishing him to you and making sure he knew you cared. "It's not your
fault Uncle Callan. You didn't make the storm."

"Geez kid, this ain't the place to be makin' me emotional." But you felt him hugging you back...although he had a point. Banagas International Port used to be a bustling, thriving
sea port in The Before time. But now all that remained of its once vibrant lifestyle was a few makeshift docks occupied by ships that seemed ready to fall apart any second and maintained
by people that would just as soon hide from you, shoot at you, or trade with you. It all depended on the vibe you gave off that day.

"Can I ask you some things, Uncle Callan?"

"Anything you want kiddo."
*goto questions

*label questions
*disable_reuse
*choice
 #"What was the world like before the war?"
  *goto beforewar
 #"What caused the war?"
  *goto war 
 #"Why did my parents, and you, and everyone else choose to run a fishing boat?"
  *goto fishing
 #"What happened to the governments? To the United Nations and everything else I've heard about?"
  *goto governmentssuck
 #"No, never mind. I don't have anything to ask."
  *goto ship

*label beforewar
"The world was shitty before the war too kid...just not [i]this[/i] shitty." Uncle Callan was moving quickly toward an airship that looked like something Dr. Eron
would tell you not to touch for fear of getting tetanus. It was a mix-matched bucket of parts, covered in rust, and seemed to house a group that looked likely to eat
you if you breathed the wrong way around them.

"Now I don't know first hand, but from what Whiskers says shit was okay." Your uncle paused, turning to look at you. "Technology was gettin' created faster than
people could realize it was somethin' they wanted, technology like that translator in your ear. People could live without worrying about where their next meal would come from or if their kid was gonna be able
to write their own name when they grew up. Life was okay." He smiled, tapping his finger against the small device in your ear. The immediate crackling sound that followed sent an
uncomfortable jolt down your spine.

"Don't do that!" The words came out in a rushed breath as you cupped your hand over your ear, looking indignantly on as your uncle's laugh was carried off by a gust of wind that brought
the scent of burning rubber and rotting fish.

"Sorry kid," An annoyed 'hey' left your lips as Uncle Callan reached out and tugged you against his side. "I keep forgettin' how jumpy you can be."

"I'm not jumpy! You're just a jerk." You pouted as your uncle ruffled your hair, but didn't pull away.

"Right, anything else you wanted to ask?"
*goto questions

*label war
"Hold that thought for just a second kid, I'll be right back." You were left waiting just at the edge of the landing pad as your uncle strided over to the group of
shady looking characters. Standing back here didn't give you a clear view of the proceedings but, if your uncle's gestures were anything to go by, it seemed like he
was trying to initiate a trade.

After a few minutes your uncle returned, carrying a duffel bag over his shoulder and a self-satisfied grin on his face. 
"Alright ${name}, what were we talkin' about?"

You had an inkling that your uncle knew exactly what you'd asked but chose to push it away for now. He did things like this to get a rise out of you all the time.
"What started the war, Uncle Callan?"

"People did of course!" You had to resist the urge to reach out and throttle him.

"What [i]people[/i]?" Even though your uncle was short, he was fast and keeping up with him took a lot more energy than you'd like to admit.

*page_break

Of course it didn't help that he seemed to be going in circles for no apparent reason.

*page_break

"Well," Uncle Callan paused his steps, forcing you to stop as well. "North Korea was gettin' antsy from what I've heard, wanted to throw around its weight. Couple o'
countries took a real aggressive approach to keepin' it in line and before you know it [i]boom[/i], all out war."

You blanked at your uncle as you followed him down a narrow alley between two haphzardly created shacks. "That...isn't a very satisfying answer."

"Never said it would be kiddo. Anything else?"
*goto questions

*label fishing
"What, you aren't happy smelling like seaweed and fish all the time?" The teasing light in your uncle's eyes made you want to push him into the nearest trashcan, but
you wouldn't. Instead you had to settle for simply sticking your tongue out at him...a gesture he responded with in kind.

"It's a means to an end kid. Food is scarce, land is run by people who sell kids to big bad crime bosses, and out there you don't have to worry about someone burnin'
down your house."

"Uncle Callan," You knew he was serious in his answer, or partly serious anyway, but you wanted more. "Elaborate a bit would you?"

The good-natured sigh you heard told you he was going to relent. "No matter what's goin' wrong in the world one thing always stays the same; people get hungry.
Food gets you places now. And fish is a pretty reliable food source. That's all."

"Oh."

"You gotta stop overthinking kid. Anything else to ask?"
*goto questions 

*label governmentssuck
"They went kablam when shit got real because they couldn't take care of their people...not like they ever did I think." You wouldn't say it, mostly because you think
your uncle already knew, but your head was beginning to ache from all of his roundabout answers.

"[i]Why[/i] did they go...kablam?"

"Because crime syndicates like the Oshiro Clan were better prepared to care for people then they were. I thought your mom told you all this already?" Your uncle
seemed genuinely surprised and you felt yourself looking toward your family's ship in the distance, finally back into view.

"She did but," You swallowed your embarrassment. "I thought you might say something different."

"Ah. Sorry to disappoint kid. Any other questions?"
*goto questions

*label ship
"Alright then, let's head back. Unless you'd like to go swimming in that lovely pool first?" Your uncle cocked his head toward a sludgy puddle of brown goo
with chunks of what appeared to be garbage floating in it, grinning
as he watched your face twist in displeasure.

"You first Uncle Callan, this seems like more your type of thing anyway."

"Ouch! Savage kid. Who taught you to talk like that eh?" His grin only widened, if that was possible, as the two of you wandered down the concrete strip toward
the ship.

"Geez," You couldn't stop the smile as you playfully elbowed your uncle in the side. "I wonder. Any ideas?"

Your uncle reached out to thump your forehead before pulling you into his side. 
"It was Ana wasn't it? You gotta watch out for those science-y types, they'll get ya started on bad habits."

*page_break 2 months later

You were being kept busy today by your mentor, unusually busy, and the only excuse you'd received had been a back up of work. Hefting up another crate before placing
it on the ever growing stack in the storage deck you finally took a moment to rest.

You would really need to talk to...

*choice
 #Ana. She was your mentor, as well as the ship's self-proclaimed marine biologist. She was a bit..eccentric. But you knew she ment well.
  *set empathy %+25
  *set intelligence %+25
  *set perception %+15
  *set will %+10
  *set agility %+5
  *set strength %+5
  *set dexterity %+5
  *set endurance %+5
  *set ana %+10
  *goto ana
 #Dr. Eron. He was your mentor and a complete hardass. You'd heard Louise saying that doctor's were supposed to have compassion...but Dr. Eron seemed to never have gotten that memo.
  *set perception %+25
  *set intelligence %+25
  *set will %+10
  *set dexterity %+15
  *set endurance %+5
  *set agility %+5
  *set strength %+5
  *set empathy %+5
  *set eron %+20
  *goto eron
 #Uncle Callan. You were learning to handle the riggings of the ship, even if most days it just seemed like you were just keeping him from being murder by your mom and Captain Ingrid.
  *set strength %+25
  *set agility %+20
  *set dexterity %+15
  *set endurance %+10
  *set perception %+5
  *set intelligence %+5
  *set will %+5
  *set empathy %+5
  *set callan %+10
  *goto callan

*label ana
"Don't worry ${name}, this will be the last box!" She had said that five boxes ago and yet here you were, carrying
a box of sea related items into the storage hull once again. Uncle Callan liked to joke that Ana had lost her mind to
the fishes, something your mom often chastised him for, but you were growing concerned that he was right.

Ducking beneath the low-hanging doorframe while blowing a cobweb from in front of your face you pushed the box up
onto the ever growing stack.

As you made your way back upstairs, quickening your pace when you noticed Captain Ingrid chewing your uncle out, you couldn't
help but wonder where all these boxes were coming from. You knew better than anyone that Ana liked to keep any shell she came across and, more
often than not, you would spend the entire first day at any dock diving beneath the waves to gather whatever could be found under the surface
but even then there was never this much...clutter.

*page_break

"Oh ${name}, you're back!" You winced, half expecting another box to be shoved into your hands as soon as you entered the makeshift lab.
That didn't seem to be the case this time though. A glowing smile shone on the freckled face of your mentor as she pushed the goggles back into
the mess of black curls on her head.

You smiled weakly, the muscles in your arms begging you to refuse any heavy lifting for the next three days...or even lifting in general.
Moving through the cramped space took practice, and quite a bit of fancy footwork, if you wanted to avoid knocking over the various tanks
filled with everything from tiny seahorses to the baby swordfish still recovering from its fight with a tigershark.

Pressing your hand against the tank you watched as the scarred creature swam toward you, brushing its side against the glass before gliding away. You'd named her Minerva and every
few moments she would come back as if to make sure you were still there. When she was satisfied that you weren't leaving she floated off, poking at the seaweed
you'd placed in her tank a few weeks ago.
Soon she would be well enough to be released in the ocean. At least that's what your research was saying.

How do you feel about letting her go?

*fake_choice
 #Glad that she's getting better!
   "She's really getting better ${name}, you've done good work!" Ana was next to you, holding your shoulders in dainty hands as she pressed her cheek to yours.

   "I'm glad!" You can't but smile when you see the sheer happiness and pride in Ana's eyes. "I was worried she'd be stuck in this little tank forever." One final squeeze
   was given to your shoulders before Ana returned to the microscope she'd been looking through.

   You watched Minerva pluck a piece of seaweed up and float toward you as if to say 'Hey, look at this thing!' only to swim off moments later. "I'm glad your happy,
   ${name}. I know your father would've smiled when he saw how far you've come too."

   "Thanks Ana." You only wish you could remember what his smile looked like.
   *page_break One month later...
   *set age 12
   *set year 2160
   *goto party
 #Sad. You're really going to miss her.
  "I know it's hard to let them go," You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt Ana gently squeeze your shoulders, the faint smell of sea salt coming off her.
  "But it's better for them in the long run. She'll be happier in the ocean."

  You only nod, ignoring the sinking in your heart, as you watched Minerva swim contently around her tank. She would always come to a stop in front of you and refuse
  to move until you put your hand back on the tank. Ana gives you a quick hug from behind before tiptoeing back to her microscope.

  "Your father would be proud of how strong you've gotten, ${name}."

  "Yeah." You only wish you could remember what his voice sounded like.
  *page_break One month later...
  *set age 12
  *set year 2160
  *goto party
 #If you were being honest you found it strange to be taking care of fish on a fishing boat.
  "So, what do you think ${name}? Do you think she'll be ready for the big blue soon?" Ana was holding your shoulders, looking at Minerva's tank with barely concealed
  happiness.

  "Uh," You fought down the urge to tell her your thoughts. "Yeah Ana. Minerva will do great." A low groan left your lips as Ana squeaked before hugging you around your shoulders, her
  black curls falling over your face from behind.

  A few minutes later, while you copied some of Ana's notes for backup while said scientist tinkered with a microscope, you heard your mentor sigh.
  "You dad would be proud of you, ${name}. Proud of how considerate you've become."

  "Thanks." You weren't sure if your dad would be proud of apathy though.
*page_break One month later...
*set age 12
*set year 2160
*goto party

*label eron
Your mentor was...difficult. But then again being a doctor was difficult. There wasn't any proper training, especially out here on the ocean, so Dr. Eron
had to figure things out as he went. You were jogging quickly along the deck, one hand up to shade your eyes as you made your way back to your mentor's office.
He was known to have paper thin patience after all and you've long since learned not to keep him waiting.
*page_break

"You're back. Good." Those words, accompanied by the sharp hand gesture to the palmpad on the metal desk in the corner, were Dr. Eron's only indication that he knew you'd
come back. You sighed as you moved toward the desk. Plopping down in the seat, picking up the handheld equivalent of a notebook, you scrolled through the various notes
Dr. Eron wanted you to study for the rest of the day.

Even if your arms demanded rest.

You couldn't say that the silence that followed was comfortable. Ever since your father died it seemed like Dr. Eron had always kept his distance from you. It was never
more apparent than when you asked to be his apprentice. Try as you might, you couldn't shake the feeling that this had to do with your dad's death. Did Dr. Eron blame
himself?

Or, more importantly, did you blame him?

*fake_choice
 #No. I know it's not his fault my dad died.
  You sucked a breath in through your teeth before releasing it through your nose. "Dr. Eron?"

  The tensing of his shoulders, coupled with the stutter of his hands as they shifted through the supplies in front of him, told you he was listening despite his refusal to turn and respond.
  You could do this. You [i]had[/i] to do this. Especially if Dr. Eron was still torturing himself over something he had no control over.

  "Dr. Eron," The sound of your chair scraping against the floor seemed to echo louder in the silence but you moved forward, standing just behind your mentor. "I just wanted to tell you that...
  I never blamed you. For what happened. So, don't be so sad okay?"

  Your nervous habit was surfacing as you waited for a response while heat rose in your cheeks. What if you had just been making assumptions? What if you just annoyed Dr. Eron and that was why he always
  avoided you?

  "You...don't blame me? For not saving your father? For failing to do my job? For making you grow up with only one parent?" You jerked your head up in surprise; you'd never heard such self loathing
  before.

  "No," Taking a risk you reach out and wrap your arms around his back, hugging him tightly. "I never blamed you."

  His shoulders seemed to be shaking, every muscle in his body seemed to be tense, and you could hear the sound of papers crinkling as he clenched them in his fists.
  "Your father...you've got his kind heart ${name}."
  *page_break One month later...
  *set age 12
  *set year 2160
  *goto party

 #Yes. If he would've done his job and kept Uncle Callan safe my dad wouldn't have had to go out there.
  You knew it was important to learn how to take care of yourself, and others, so you asked to be apprenticed to him. That didn't mean you'd ever forgiven him though.

  Or that you ever will.

  "${name}," Narrowed eyes focused on your mentor as you waited for him to talk. "I...your father would be proud of you."

  "I wish I could hear him tell me that himself."
*page_break One month later...
*set age 12
*set year 2160
*goto party

*label callan
You moved with intentional slowness as you found your way back to your uncle. Maybe by the time you got back he would finally be
moving And you were paid back for your little revenge scheme with...even more work.

"Hey brat," Captain Ingrid was a moutain of a woman with a voice to match. "Tell your uncle to get his ass in gear and fix the cables up top before I feed him to the sharks."

"Yes ma'am!"

Ten minutes later you were skidding around a moutain of crates, having no luck
in locating your mentor, until you found yourself toppling on top of him.

"Uncle Callan!" Said man grunted as you crawled off of him and kicked the life preserver he'd made his pillow. 
"You can't make me do all the work while you just laze around!" You watched him
wave a hand at you, pulling his hat further down before rolling onto his stomach.
*page_break

You spend the next fifteen minutes sitting on your uncle's back while practically beating him over the head.
*page_break

"Get up! You gotta fix the cables!"

"Go away shortstuff, I'm tired."

"Captain Ingrid is gonna feed you to the sharks!"

"She's gotta find me first."

Your uncle isn't going to budge, and Captain Ingrid isn't a patient person. What should you do?

*choice
 #Fix the cables. You're Uncle Callan's apprentice after all.
  Aiming one last smack to the top of your uncle's shoulders you stood up, gaze lifting to the bundle of knots hanging tangled around the pole some one hundred feet in the air.
  You pulled the gloves from your pocket and slipped them on, tightening the straps around your wrist to the point of almost discomfort, before starting your climb.

  Climbing atop a barrell sitting next to the wooden pole you grabbed the rope dangling in front of you and, with the rope wrapped around your dominant arm and your shoes
  placed against the damp wood, you began your ascent up. You made it a total of five steps before you felt two hands grip your waist and an insistent tug pulled you down.
  "Kiddo you're goin' to get me killed one of these days."

  Uncle Callan was practically dragging you away from the poll, his own gloves already on, and a look of exasperated pride on etched on his face. "Now just wait here, alright?"

  "I could've done it myself!" No sooner had the words left your lips did you feel his hat being pushed onto your head.

  "Yeah kid," He was already climbing the pole by the time you'd fixed the hat on your head. "I know. Your dad would've been proud, seeing you all grown up like this."
  *page_break One month later...
  *set age 12
  *set year 2160
  *goto party
 #Get Uncle Callan up! He's got to do his job!
  "Uncle Callan!" You pinched his ear, shook his shoulders, and pulled his hair all the while shouting in his ear. And yet he didn't budge.

  "Get up you lazy bum!" Now you were poking at his sides, knees pressed into his lower back, as you bounced up and down slightly. "You gotta work!"

  Ten minutes pass as you continue pestering your uncle; from wetting down your finger and sticking it into his ear all the way to attempting to roll him across the deck.
  And then brilliance struck you.

  "Uncle Callan," You noticed the way your uncle stilled at the newfound calm in your voice. "If you don't get up I'll go get mom."

  He was on his feet faster than you could blink and, subsequently, you were tossed to ground from where you'd sat on his back.

  "You're just like your dad kid..."
*page_break One month later...
*set age 12
*set year 2160
*goto party

*label party
"Don't dally kiddo! Your mom has been prepping for this party for the last six months!" Louise, the ship's mechanic, was standing in the doorway of the crew hull. Louise
was a tough lady and clearly looked the part. Scars littered her forearms, her eyes held the glint of a blade, and her general aura sent of waves that screamed 'Don't mess with me.'
Well, she was like that to everyone else.

To you she was just Louise, the one who fixed your translator when it broke and made you a toy airship when you were seven.

"Uh Louise," Said mechanic popped her head back into the room, eyebrows arched and a homemade cigarette hanging from her lips. "I just wanted to say..."

*choice
 #"Thanks. To you and everyone else for doing this for me."
  *set empathy %+6
  *set ruthless %-6
  *set louise %+10
  *goto party1
 #"Are you sure this is okay? Doesn't everyone have work to do?"
  *set perception %+6
  *set stubborn %-6
  *set louise %+5
  *goto party2
 #"I don't need a party. Really I'm only turning tweleve."
  *set stubborn %+6
  *set will %+6
  *goto party3

*label party1
Louise's brown eyes softened as she blew a few strands of chestnut hair from her face. "Of course ${name}. I know your mom and Callan fuss over you, and some of us seem distant in
comparison, but just know that you're a ${son} to all of us."

You smiled as the nerves washed out of you. It may have seemed silly but you didn't think you could've gone to the party without saying that. Pulling your jacket you glanced at yourself in the mirror one last time
before looking back at Louise.

*page_break

"Ready to go ${name}? Good. Now let's go see what kind of chaos Callan's been causing since you were gone."

*page_break
*goto disaster

*label party2
"${name}," Louise flicked the ashes from her cigarette on the ground before sweeping them away with her boot. "We always have work to do. But you're just a kid, and
you deserve at least one birthday party. So yeah. I'm pretty sure this is okay. Okay?"

You glanced at your reflection, tugging at the collar of your jacket before looking back into Louise's expecting eyes. "Yeah, okay."

"Great. Now let's go make sure Callan has destroyed the cake Captain Ingrid worked so hard to get."

"Captain Ingrid managed to get me a cake?" You couldn't hide the giddy surprise in your voice. You'd never had cake before! It was such a rare treat, only the richest
people were able to afford it.

"Shh. Don't let her know I ruined her surprise."
*page_break
*goto disaster

*label party3
You could feel Louise's expasperation even before you heard her sigh. "${name} I know." You froze, confused about the gentle tone in her voice. "I know you think you need
to be grown up. I know that we treat you like you are. But the truth is that you're just a kid. And you deserve to act like on, even if it's just for one night."

Swallowing was becoming difficult as the lump in your throat grew and you averted your gaze to the rest of the bunks in the crew hull. While you struggled to contain your
emotions you felt Louise's arms wrap around your shoulders.

"C'mon kid. Let's go watch your uncle fail at hitting a pinata."

"What's a pinata?"

"You'll find out soon."
*page_break
*goto disaster

*label disaster
You haven't stopped grinning for the last two hours. Walking into the usually dull and lifelessly gray mess hall to see it filled with the multi-colored streamers, tablecloths with soft patterns,
and the entire crew shouting 'happy birthday' and 'surprise' had left you speechless. After watching your uncle fall face first, several times, onto the metal floor
while trying to smack paper mache donkey and indulging in a bit more cake than your mom would've liked you to have you now had some free time.

What do you do?

*fake_choice
 #Help Uncle Callan off the floor. After failing for the seventh time he hasn't gotten up.
  "Uncle Callan?" Do you need some help?" You bent over at the waist, poking at your uncle as he lay face down. A low groan, accompanied by Louise's barely muffled giggles,
  told you that he wasn't planning on moving anytime soon.
  *goto birthdaypresent
 #Talk to Ana. She's throwing her hands around as she speaks with Mr. Walbert and he looks ready to toss her overboard.
  "Hi Ana, hi Mr. Walbert. Thank you for the party." Mr Walbert, a man who resembeled what you imagined a burly lumberjack looked like, just grunted. Ana on the other hand
  stood from her seat and tossed her arms around your neck.

  "I'm so happy you like it! I helped pick out the colors for the streamers you know."
  *goto birthdaypresent
 #Keep Dr. Eron company. He looks uncomfortable here...
  *if empathy >= 15
   "Hi Dr. Eron. Thank you for coming to my birthday party tonight!" He seemed slightly surprised that you were speaking to him, a fact he tried to hide by pushing his
   glasses further up his nose.

   "Of course, ${name}. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."
   *goto birthdaypresent
  *elseif empathy <= 15
   "Hi Dr. Eron..." Said doctor stared at you for several long seconds.

   "${name}," He nodded in your direction finally, making you exhale in relief. "I hope you're enjoying yourself tonight."
   *goto birthdaypresent

*label birthdaypresent

"Excuse me," You turned from your conversation partner at the sound of your mother's voice. "May I borrow my ${son} for just a minute?"
*page_break

A few minutes later your mother had pulled you to a secluded spot in the room before presenting you with a small rectangular box. "Mom?"

"Just open it, ${name}."

Doing as you were told you carefully untie the red ribbon, setting it on a nearby table while flicking the lid of the box open. Inside was...

"No way! Mom how did you-"

Your mother smiled, pulling you in for hug. "Callan found the parts, Louise put it together, Ana ran the calculations, Eron kept it hidden in his office, Walbert pulled
in all of the fish we needed for trading, and Ingrid made sure we stopped at all the right ports. All I did was offer up the idea. You like them, I take it?"

You were speechless. These were translator glasses. You'd heard about these, how years ago they'd made it so people could read any language they came across, but never thought
you'd actually get to see a working pair. Much less [i]own[/i] one. Putting them on you gasped.

Gazing through the green lense you watched as the scanner searched the room, attempting to point out any language your mind didn't immediately recognize.

"I love it mom!"
*page_break All good things...

The night was winding down; your Uncle was considerably drunker than you'd seen him in years and that alone was giving everyone a reason to call it an evening.
As your uncle leaned over your back, barely moving his feet as you carried down into the crew hull, you couldn't help but smile.

"Good birthday kid?"

"The best."

"Thas good. Was worryin' you wouldn't like what we got ya."

*page_break Must come to an end

You didn't wake due to the thunder rolling through the clouds or the lightning that lit up the sky as if the sun had risen. No, you woke only after you were rocketed from your bed by a crashing wave.

Pain shot through your skull as your head bounced off the metal floor, forcing your vision to go blurry as you struggled to get up. What was happening? A storm?
The only time you'd experienced a storm so violent was-

Another wave must have chosen that moment to slam into the side of the ship because you were sent tumbling across the ground, arms flailing in a desperate attempt
to stop yourself but it was no use. The large fishing vessel was near sideways, if the way you were almost standing on the wall was anything to go by, so righting yourself
was a futile effort as long as the ship was being thrown around like a toy.

Glancing around you notice that all the other bunks are empty, including Uncle Callan's, meaning everyone must've gone on deck. It would be dangerous to go up there,
on the other hand staying down here and getting tossed around was no better.

What do you do?

*choice
 #Go up!
  *set endurance %+10
  *set will %+10
  You couldn't hide down here, not when your family might need you.
  *page_break Oh no...
  *goto allalone
 #Stay down!
  *set intelligence %+10
  *set perception %+10
  It's too dangerous, you can't-

  Before you even finish that thought you hear your mother scream.
  *page_break
  *goto allalone

*label allalone
It takes thirty minutes for you to get your footing back. Another twenty to make it up the stairs. And another ten to move all the cargo out from in front of the door.

However, once you've made it onto the deck you wish you hadn't.

Rain pounded the deck with more force than any bullet you'd ever seen and the waves crashed over the metal surface every few seconds, dousing everything in sea water
and stinging your eyes. It took all the strength you could muster just to take several steps out of the doorway and, even then, you'd only been able to do so thanks 
the support railing leading down toward the stairs.

After wiping salt, sweat, and tears from your eyes you were able to finally take a look around.

Uncle Callan was keeping the riggings as stable as possible, though he looked as though it was tearing him in half. In the brief flashes of lightning you could see
the smudges of blood coating the front of his face and dripping down his shirt while his muscles strained to hold all the ropes and cables steady.

Dr. Eron was tending to Louise who....oh God. There was something protruding from her abdomen. And she was laying in a puddle of...

"${name}!" Your head snapped to the side as you heard your mother's voice. She was standing in the wheelhouse with Captain Ingrid though, upon seeing you, she seemed
ready to leap onto the deck herself.

[i]What do I do what do I do what do I do...?[/i]

*choice
 #Get to Uncle Callan!
  *if strength >= 20
   *goto higherstr
  *if strength <= 20
   *goto lowerstr

 #Go help Dr. Eron and Louise!
  *if intelligence >= 20
   *goto higherintl
  *if intelligence <= 20
   *goto lowerintl

*label higherintl
You stumbled, more like crawled, across the deck toward your ship's doctor and mechanic. "Dr. Eron!"

You noted his face as he saw you approach, sheet white and pale blue eyes filled with terror. "${name} what are you [i]doing[/]?" The words were hissed at you
as he applied more pressure to the wound in Louise's abdomen. Blood seemed to just keep flowing, the scent almost overpowering the scent of saltwater, but you ignored
it.

"I'm here to help! Tell me what to do!" Dr. Eron seemed surprised for a moment before motioning at the bag slung around his shoulder.

"Get in there and get out the antiseptic spray."

You fumbled around in the bag for a moment before finding the clear bottle filled with bubbling liquid. He took the bottle from your hand and splashed a great deal of its
contents over the gash. You watched, fighting to keep balance and not vomit, while you waited for another order.

Finally Dr. Eron looked at you. "I need you to-look out!" His hand was on your head and pushing you aside just as a large chunk of metal came whizzing past you.
"Dr. Eron!" While it might've missed you, it didn't miss him. Dr. Eron was knocked into the railing on the opposite side of the ship, slumped over and seemingly unconscious.
You managed to crawl your way over to him before you hoisted him up and onto your shoulder, leaning on the rail for support, while trying to figure out how you were
going to make it back to Louise. There were crates that hadn't moved even with all the shifting and rocking the ship's done, maybe-

"${name} get down!" The sight of your mother, rushing with unsure footing across the deck toward you and tears in her eyes, was the last thing you saw before a metal
barrel knocked you backwards over the railing and into the water below.
*goto finish

*label lowerintl
You stumbled, more like crawled, across the deck toward your ship's doctor and mechanic. "Dr. Eron!"

You noted his face as he saw you approach, sheet white and pale blue eyes filled with terror. "${name} what are you [i]doing[/]?" The words were hissed at you
as he applied more pressure to the wound in Louise's abdomen. Blood seemed to just keep flowing, the scent almost overpowering the scent of saltwater, but you ignored
it.

"I'm here to help! Tell me what to do!" Dr. Eron seemed surprised for a moment before motioning at the bag slung around his shoulder.

"Get in there and get out the antiseptic spray." Carefully, you pick up a brown bottle and hand it to him hesitantly.

"Not that bottle." He snapped at you before taking your hands with his own bloodsoaked ones. "Just keep pressure here while I find it."

You nodded, face burning with shame, as you attempted to stem the bloodflow. Was it working? There was always more coming out and the harder your pressed the worse
it seemed to get...

Something that sounded like paper tearing, only louder and more urgent, sounded from behind you. Turning halfway you barely have time to catch the chunck of metal
flying in your direction before it collides full force with your body and knocks your world into darkness.
*goto finish

*label higherstr
You dash to your uncle's side, reach out, and grab the ropes.

You manage to hold them, if for only a second, before another wave washes over the deck. You scream as your washed backwards, falling onto the freezing metal and being
rolled across the deck until you feel two warm arms wrapping around your torso.

"Thought I...was gonna lose ya kid." Despite blood rendering his left eye uselss, and his dark skin being marred in new scars, your uncle still managed a smile for you.

"Uncle Callan I-" Your words froze in your throat as you noticed the wave, easily ten stories high, approaching the ship with the force of a thousand hurricanes.

"${name} stay down-"

Those were the last words you'd heard before everything drifted into darkness.
*goto finish 

*label lowerstr
You dash to your uncle's side, reach out, and grab the ropes.

But you couldn't even manage to get a good grip on them before they were whipping out of your hands. A particularly thick cable swung back, cracking into your midsection
and sent you flying backward.

You scream momentarily until your head is knocked into a metal barrel. Your vision swims in and out of darkness and you feel as if someone locked you inside a blender
and hit start before leaving you there for days. Nausea threatened to force you to empty everything you'd eaten in the last few hours and pain wracked your body.

"${name}.....me.....look...." It was Uncle Callan's voice. But he sounded so far away...

"${name} please....." Later Uncle Callan. I'm tired right now.

And the world faded into darkness.
*goto finish

*label finish

[i]Where am I...?[/i]
*finish