Samuel finished going down his list and decided he may as well get some air. He walked out of his makeshift office and went up onto them main deck of the ship. He leaned on a railing taking a few breaths as Samuel thought over the excitement of the past little while, though after a while reflection became somewhat dull.
'May as well run through the surgery for Sheska's arm one more time.' He thought as he began to go over the procedure in his head.
'First, I take off the bandaging and clean the area with alcohol, and perhaps a minor sedative if she shows signs of stress. Next I...' His hands and arms going through the motions as he thought through every last step he would need to perform. Not recognizing himself that he may very well catch the attention of any crew who hadn't seen him enough times for one of the many services he performed to know that would just be how he operated.
Zach eyed this new arrival on deck from afar with keen interest. At first, he looked half-mad. Eyes closed, muttering under his breath, and tracing odd patterns with his hands, as though he were conducting some orchestral cacophony that only he could hear. However, as Zach moved a little closer he recognised hang gestures that could only be representative of bandages and syringes, which led to the conclusion that this must be the ships doctor. It made sense, he supposed. By nature any doctors he'd met had been of the bookish sort. Obsessively studious, and preferring to be alone, visualising procedures and making notes, rather than engaging others in light conversation.
Samuel was broken out of his imaginings when quipped to by the man now at his side. He chuckled at the joke before replying.
"Not at this time of day, perhaps later you may find me roaming the deck in my sleep." He replied in jest as he turned to face the man.
"Right now however I was simply running through an imagined version of a rather difficult surgery I will have to perform sometime soon. Taking inventory down below got a tad boring so I decided to come up for some air. Though I don't believe I've seen you around before. Samuel Garland, ship's doctor for this fine vessel. Who might you be?" He asked while holding his hand out to the man before him.
"Call me Zach," Zach replied, returning the gesture, pleased to find someone on this ship who was both welcoming and capable of forming what is commonly recognised as a sentence "and this is Oswin." to which the parrot whistled in acknowledgment of his name.
"I usually tend to avoid befriending doctors. I call it bad luck. Get too friendly with them and it's almost like you're asking to be in their company more often than is wise." he said in jest "Besides, if I have to sit though one more uncomfortable lecture on the risks of contracting Syphilis, I don't think I'd ever look at a woman again, and then my life truly would be wretched! For you though, I think I'll make an exception."
"Well you needn't worry about me giving you some long winded lecture. I like to keep my advice rather concise as opposed to most Neo-Victorian doctors." Samuel replied with a laugh as he brought his hand back.
"It is a pleasure to meet you though Zack and Oswin. Hopefully your ill omen will not come to pass, I hate having to see patients in my office repeatedly for something more complex than a shave and a haircut. Though conversation and company is always welcome. Though right now it seems you have me at a disadvantage. You know what I do on this ship but I don't happen to know what you do."
"Sorry for bumping into you like that, some people just can't take no for an answer."
Jason cocked an eyebrow, not sure what to make of the boy in front of him. On the one hand, his unslurred speech indicated he wasn't a drunkard as he initially suspected. But there was something else in his voice... Jason couldn't quite place it, but it was as though the kid was focusing hard on his words. On top of that, it lacked an obvious accent, leaving his voice a strange, indiscernible beast.
"I'd offer to buy you a beer but I'm a bit short on funds right now. I could however fix your gun if there's something wrong with it, or a friend's, or a crew member's."
'A gunsmith? If he can machine those parts, then his technical skill isn't trivial. I wonder...' Jason's gaze dropped its curiosity and instead adopted his usual hard demeanor. "Well, there may be something else you can do to make even. You ever worked on a ship, kid?" Jason reached into his pocket and withdrew a cigarette, lighting it and taking in a deep draft before continuing. "If so, I work on a vessel that's rather short on skilled labor. Provided you don't screw anything up, we might even take you on as a permanent member."
He exhaled his draft, letting the smoke settle in a cloud at his feet. "You interested?"
"Well, there may be something else you can do to make even. You ever worked on a ship, kid? If so, I work on a vessel that's rather short on skilled labor. Provided you don't screw anything up, we might even take you on as a permanent member. You interested?"
Finally! Here was Roy's chance to leave this blasted city and do something different for a change. He had started to fear that he'd never find work on a ship and would be forced to work in a store or factory for the rest of his miserable life. While he loved working on guns it got almost unbearably dull if it was the only thing you did.
A smile crept up on Roy's face and he tried not to look too eager to join. "I've been on a few ships before though mostly on the passenger side," he admitted. Passenger and cargo, but he didn't allow himself to dwell on those particular memories for long. "Still, I know how a ship's engine works and I'm as good a shot as any."
He wasn't about to admit that he was deaf unless someone noticed and asked. He could work just fine, hearing or not, despite what some people liked to think.
"Still, I know how a ship's engine works and I'm as good a shot as any."
Jason couldn't help but let a cocky smile slip. "Do you, now? We'll see about that." He tossed his now-spent cigarette to the side, exhaling another cloud of smoke. He'd seen plenty of hotshot greenhorn engineers in his time, and the one thing they all had in common was that they didn't know nearly as much about an airship's engines as they thought they did. "Follow me, then. We have quite a bit of work to do, and not much time to do it." He motioned to leave, giving Silas a nod as he left. "I'll be in touch, Silas."
He turned back to the boy, raising his arms in annoyance. "Come on then, kid! You got feathers in your ears or something? Move!"
As Sheska strode away from Eddie and Zach, she didn't notice Sam coming up from below, partly due to an internal debate of just what she ought to do to occupy herself and keep from sleeping in her hammock. There was always searching the hold for the rum and drinking the time away, but at that particular moment, that didn't have much appeal. She supposed she could always take care of the supplies she needed to pick up for herself, including ammunition for her revolver, and possibly seeing if she could find Izzy while she was at it.
Deciding that was what she would do, she stepped off of the ship and made her way down the long stairwell that ran down the length of the Chase Tower, occasionally sniffing the air to see if she could pick up Izzy's scent. By the time she stepped out of the tower proper, she glared back at it and huffed. "Fucking stairs. May as well make the most of my time in the city before I go back up the goddamned things.", she muttered to herself, and she started to make her way to the markets.
It wasn't long before she spotted a familiar face from her crew, along with the unmistakable silhouette of Imperial uniforms striding off in a different direction, accompanied by the man she had seen earlier when she was with Hector, and an older Skyfolk man.
With narrowed eyes, she strode over carefully, and nodded when she finally reached Jason. "Jason, what the fuck were you doing around Imp's just a few moments ago? And who's this?", she asked quietly, jerking her head at the man next to him.
He was pale, and had a set of tools on a belt at his waist, so she had to assume he was a mechanic, or something else along those lines.
"Follow me, then. We have quite a bit of..." his boss said, turning to leave before Roy could catch the whole of what he said. He tried to puzzle it out but didn't have much to go on.
"Come on then, kid! You got feathers in your ears or something? Move!"
'Probably nothing important,' Roy hoped as he hurried after the older engineer. He tried to stay next to him rather than behind in case he was told to do anything but the busy streets made that difficult at times. "So what kind of ship will I be working on? Oh and the name's Roy," he asked when a misbegotten walked up to them.
"Jason, what the fuck were you doing around Imp's just a few moments ago? And who's this?"
Roy figured it be best to keep his mouth shut for the moment since the lady didn't seem to be in the best of moods.
"Well, I only just got here. So I guess the deal is I go where the Captain sends me" replied Zach. "On other ships though I've served as a lookout. The only man or beast who'll spot an enemy ship on the horizon before me is Oswin here."
"I'm also pretty good at killing things. I thought that might come in handy too." he remarked, thumbing his bowstring again.
Time passed slowly in the rum barrel, ticking by slowly. James could hear the sounds of movement around him - soldiers and merchants moving their goods from ship to shore to ship and every combination in between. Every now and again, he could make out words; the crude jokes of sailors, the occasional tirade of an overworked crew mate, now inebriated to the point of distraction.
Speaking of inebriation, the barrel smelled of cheap booze, almost to the point where it was unlivable. Still, James endured. It was as he was considering giving up and trying a different approach that he felt movement. A second later, and his chances of trying a different method were vanquished as he felt the barrel tipped onto its side and rolled in an unknown direction. The experience was dizzying to say the least.
As he was moved up a plank - evident by the subtle change in the direction of down - he heard speaking. "OY! Roberts! Give me a hand with this one; I think it's nails or something 'cause I can barely lift it!" The movement paused for a moment, as another crew mate approached. "It ain't heavy-" a new voice said - presumable Roberts, "-you just can't lift it on account of your scrawny little arms. Now let a real man try."
A few seconds later, with a mighty shove, the barrel moved again. Seconds later it stopped, and the first crew member began to laugh. "A 'real man' huh? Let me know if you find one. Now come on, we need to get this aboard before our 'wonderful' officers start yelling at us for lollygagging. Heaven help us if that bastard St. John finds us. Or Cromwell." he said, shuddering at each name.
James felt the barrel move forward, the two men pushing as one. "Or Lanester" Roberts said, forcing the other to audibly cringe. "Don't even joke about that." the unnamed crew mate said, continuing his push. "Who knows what that crazy bit-" he started to say, but the remainder of the words never reached James ears. Instead came the feeling of free-fall and the soft landing on what James could only guess was a net.
Then everything was quiet save the sound of boots on hard wood and the muffled voices of conversation.
[HEADING=2]George[/HEADING]
A moment after George knocked, a voice called out from the other side of the door, saying "Enter!".
As George opened the door, he found himself staring into a much darker room. Due to the brightness of the outdoors, the dim light of the room was insufficient to make out much in the room. What he could make out was the dark shapes of some furniture, the dim glow of light behind a curtain, and a veritable mountain of papers and parchments, all with the same simple, curved signature at the bottom. Behind one of the dark furniture shaped blobs, he could make out the subtle movements of a person writing.
Fortunately, George's eyes began to adjust quickly, allowing him to make out more details quickly enough. Unfortunately, these details reveled the face of his new Commanding Officer, similarly stating at him, her eyes narrowed at him, her pen tapping on a loose piece of paper. "Well... care to tell me to what I owe this visit?" she said, clearly annoyed at the interruption. It quickly became evident what the real reason of her annoyance was - the similar stack of papers beside her, these without the squiggled lines of her signature.
[HEADING=2]Silas[/HEADING]
Silas stared at the list for a few moments, taking into account what he needed and what he didn't. With the exception of a few tools, there were none he couldn't live without for a few days. "I'll be in touch, Silas." Jason called out. Silas looked up to see he and his new friend walking away. Silas called back "If you must. There shouldn't be no trouble with most a d'ese tools, but you'll be need'n to find another belt cleaner 'cause I'll likely be a need'n that."
Turning to his supposedly Imperial companions, he asked "So, where was we?"
"So what kind of ship will I be working on? Oh, and the name's Roy."
Jason gave a nod of affirmation to his new charge. "Jason Aurora. I work as chief engineer on a Barracuda-class airship - The Mermaid, they call it. If you're as good with your hands as you say, then you'll be reporting to me." He gestured to the approaching dock, the ship coming into clear view as they left the bazaar. "She's an older one, but that hasn't stopped her from being one tough *****. A good thing, given our line of work."
'Speaking of a tough *****...' He was stopped by a familiar sight as he broke from the crowd. Sheska's eyes bored narrowed into their familiar glare, staring straight through him. "Jason, what the fuck were you doing around Imps just a few moments ago? And who's this?"
Jason visibly bristled at the mention of the Skyfolk Imp. He hadn't caught his name, and to be honest, he didn't care to know. It'd make the inevitable business of killing him go down easier. He jutted a finger back in their direction. "Trust me, Sheska. If there weren't guards out the ass here, one of us wouldn't be breathing right now." Shaking the grim idea from his head, he turned to gesture towards Roy. "And this is Roy. A gunsmith, or so he says. He's interested in giving life on a ship a try, and seeing as how we need all the skilled labor we can get our hands on, I see no reason to turn him down."
He turned to Roy, his a playful look in his eye. If there was one thing he liked about Sheska, it was how she broke in green recruits. "Kid, this is First Mate Sheska Skulk-Hound. You won't be reporting to her, at least not directly, but that doesn't mean you get to show her any disrespect." He shot Sheska a cocky smile. "After all, that's MY job."
She glanced between the two of them with a quirked brow when Jason finally replied, clearly flustered at the mere mention of the Imperials that had walked away.
"Trust me, Sheska. If there weren't guards out the ass here, one of us wouldn't be breathing right now.".
"Good thing you have more restraint than me, though hopefully I'd have shown up before you got yourself killed. I'm betting whatever Head Engineer we get after you die is twice as insufferable, with half the skill.", she said with a sly smirk, chuckling softly to herself.
"And this is Roy. A gunsmith, or so he says. He's interested in giving life on a ship a try, and seeing as how we need all the skilled labor we can get our hands on, I see no reason to turn him down."
Her expression changed to one of interest as she looked the boy over again and nodded. "A gunsmith, eh? That could be rather useful. In fact...", she said, trailing off as she twisted her arm to draw her revolver.
Then she held it out to Roy. "Here you go, young pup. I haven't been able to maintain it properly since I lost my arm, and I'm pretty sure there are a few other things that needs fixin' about it. Its a good pistol, just needs some love. Consider it a test of your gunsmithing skills.", she said lightly, before her expression turned murderous and she leaned forward.
"If I go back aboard and find out you messed with the engraving, lost it, or did anything to change it unnecessarily, I won't bother trying to use it on you, I'll just gut you like a pig.", she told him quietly.
Then she grinned and patted him once, firmly on the shoulder.
Turning back to Jason, she put her hand on her hip and frowned. "By the way, I don't suppose you've seen Izzy around the marketplace, have you? Been hoping to talk to him.", she said, concern starting to show in her tone.
"If I go back aboard and find out you messed with the engraving, lost it, or did anything to change it unnecessarily, I won't bother trying to use it on you, I'll just gut you like a pig," Sheska said and looked as if she not only meant it but had done it before.
"I-I'll make sure to take good care of it," Roy promised and gingerly took the gun from her.
"A .44 caliber Colt Dragoon?" he muttered to himself in surprise, examining the gun. Now there was a gun you didn't see every day. The revolver would need to be cleaned but otherwise seemed to be in pretty decent condition. The engravings would be a bit bothersome. Still, he'd need to disassemble it and a busy streets was definitely not the place to do it. Hopefully there'll be a quiet corner somewhere on the ship. He unloaded the gun, wrapped it in a clean piece of cloth, and put it safely away.
He then looked up to make sure no one had meanwhile been telling him anything or just left him there in the street. It wouldn't be the first time he got distracted and missed half a conversation.
Hector stared gloomily at the cobbled together hat that was nestled on top of a stack of boxes at the end of the bed, well not really the end of the bed, the stack of boxes he had found to extend the bed. He grimaced at it as he continued to inspect, the hat that matched his suit, his raggedy old suit.
He had impressed Sheska through luck and bravado, but he needed something more worth while that would keep him on board. The people they had recruited at the tavern were more use to the Captain then him, he couldn't help but wonder why she let him stay on board; was it because he was a misbegotten like her? Nevertheless, he needed to find something more then bravado and luck, maybe a new suit while he was at it.
No time like the present to do so. He promptly jumped out of bed, possibly a little too quickly, banging his head against the ceiling of the cabin. Briefly rubbing his head he grab his hat of the impromptu bed extension and whisked through the tight, ideal for him, low, not so ideal, hallway tilting most of body so he would fit with banging any of his extremities until he found his way up to the deck.
As he excited the doorway he flourished his hat and placed it square on his head, curious what the new recruits were up to and what he could learn from them or the...senior members of the crew.
Inquisitor Ring; we have new information. The Invincible has just pulled into port this morning. They claim to have engaged the Mermaid several days ago; damaging the vessel but failing to sink. Their reports put the pirates in Helium this morning."
Relieved to hear those words he turned to the runner, Andrews, a fresh faced optimistic lad, still in awe of the empire, the kind of man the inquistor held in absolute contempt.
"Well then we best be off to investigate, no doubt you obtained the shipyard where the Invincible is undergoing repairs?" The Inquisitor inquired, he was confident of a reply in the affirmative, his assistant was thorough if not skilled.
"Indeed sir, they are docked in eastern quarter, they sustained some fairly substantial damage are currently undergoing repairs, and resupplying." Andrews continued to speak, rushing of data about losses and requisition orders for funds that had been placed at the embassy. The inquisitor listened, placing significant effort on appearing to be intently focused on the data, but to be honest he had the information he needed. When Andrew finished he smiled at the inquisitor, evidently revelling in a job well done.
The inquisitor dismissed Andrews with orders to search the city for any clues as to the whereabouts of the Mermaid in the city, before grabbing his imperial greatcoat and leaving the embassy. He walked calmly through the streets of Helium city, filled to the brim with the filth of humanity he reflected, before revising his opinion upon contemplation of the other cities of the world, all of them despicable holes of suffering and self absorbed ambition, each one a testament to the sins of man.
He arrived at the dock and cast a critical eye over the ship; she was damaged but not nearly beyond repair. The gleaming exterior was marred upon further examination by the obviously makeshift repairs, perhaps an impressive site from a distance but like her empire she failed to impress at anything more than a passing glance. The inquisitor quickly glanced around before identifying a member of the ships crew standing causally on the gangway rifle in hand; evidently though the inquisitor; this man had been lumbered with guard duty.
The inquisitor approached the man, smiled and said "Good evening sir, I'm with the embassy here in Helium City and I?m afraid I need to have a word with your captain, Rear Admiral Adriana Victor Elizabeth Lanester" The man nodded and then dashed of up the gangway.
He waited and hoped that the captain was actually inside the room. "Enter!" was suddenly shouted from the other side so George opened the door and stepped in. The room was dark, very dark and it took his eyes a few seconds to get used to the darkness He then saw a giant stack of papers and a woman who seemed to be his new commander. She seemed to be in her late twenties and wasn't bad looking but she was obviously a noble, not that he hadn't expected that. "Well... care to tell me to what I owe this visit?" she asked, clearly annoyed at the interruption.
It was obvious that she was annoyed at the papers too, he had picked a very bad time to introduce himself. He took a military stance and then spoke, "Greetings Rear-Admiral Lanester, my name is George Maelstrom. I have been assigned to your crew, and thought it best to introduce myself before doing anything else. I am very sorry for interrupting you with your paperwork." He made a bow, knowing most nobles would appreciate that.
"Well then I think you will do very well here. A good lookout is always a handy thing to have." Samuel replied leaning against the railing of the ship.
"So have the chance to meet any of our fellow pirates yet?" He asked.
"Eddie and Sheska." Zach replied "Eddie's friendly enough, although I'd be surprised if he could tell one end of a ship from another. Sheska... well, I can't tell if she's always no fun, or if it's just been too long since she last got any!" Zach finished with a wry chuckle.
"Anyone else I should watch out for? I'm looking forward to meeting the Captain at any rate."
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