<div class="floatleft">(https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51JuEU6%2B-lL._SX466_.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Devon Black<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Esperanza, Navigation Room, Middle Deck<br/><strong>Time &amp; Date</strong>: Day 1 | Noon<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>The Captain | Alvirs | Lawton | Marisol<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Trying not to drool on the captain or her charts<br/><hr/>"I am also, pardon the pun, a man adrift," Devon began, tearing his eyes away from the table.  It astonished him that he'd been fixated on the map, rather than the captain's well presented cleavage.  "My life was carefully planned out and without any warning, those plans dissolved like a morning mist, leaving me with nothing.  I seek purpose, captain and, god willing, with this ship I have found it."<br/><br/>He paused, considering.  "I have a certain set of skills.  I intend to put them to good use, charting this ship's course and steering her safely through whatever troubles she encounters.  I can pass many of those skills on to those new to the sea.  I<em> thought</em>I had a good set of maps, until I laid eyes on this one.  With your permission, at your convenience, I'd like to go over them with you so that I can update mine.  I know from past experience the issues that can arise from using incorrect charts."<br/><br/>He looked at the others in the room self-consciously, wondering if he'd said too much about where he'd come from.  He wasn't exactly ashamed that he'd learned his trade in the Royal Navy; he just wasn't planning on screaming it from the forecastle.