Aboard the Beowulf IC

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Dahrinn (Groucho)

The Wizard
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ABOARD THE BEOWULF In Character

It is the year One Hundred Thirty Four in the Age of the Hunt;
The streets of Doxa are no strangers to hustle and bustle, as the capital of the Doxan Empire, it sees massive amounts of activity every day as near countless people rush across the streets to and from their jobs and events. But on this day, the amount of Hustle and Bustle is multiplied by the inclusion of a single factor, and that factor was called The Beowulf. As the ship lowered gracefully to the ground, a side hatch opened with a sharp hissing noise, swinging down and clanking onto the metal ground. Down stepped the captain of this prestigious vessel, John Caine, as his mysterious first-mate watched from within. As John Caine met the crowd, he made his intentions clear; He was looking for his new crew.


In a few hours, all those that were to join his crew had boarded the ship and introduced themselves to at least John, but mere moments before John had closed the hatch leading upwards into the ship, a familiar face came hobbling out of the crowd. It was the face of an older man, looking to be in about his sixties, with rough features, white hair, and a mutton chops style beard. He was a large man, and walked with what could best be described, as an angry strut. John Caine stepped down to meet him, and after exchanging words, and then punches to the gut; of which the older man seemed to cause more of an effect against John, the two stepped onto the ship together. After ten hunts, Alton Barnett was joining again to be the head chef.

After two days of non-stop sailing north, they had made it to the jagged mountain range in which the fire breathing dragon Fuinseog was rumored to make his nest. Alton came up from his personal spot in the bottom deck, up to the flight deck, dragging up an ice box powers by some unrefined philosopher's stone of the Dragon formerly known as Frostback. He opened the box, revealing the preserved body of a boar. He tied it by it's back legs on the bowsprit of the vessel, and, upon passing John, swiped his dragon-hunting rifle, took aim, and shot the corpse of the creature, reducing a good quarter of it into a red mist, before tossing the weapon back at John, and descending back into the bottom deck.

John Caine
After a good chuckle, John Caine looked around the deck to his new crew, and decided to give them a little bit more briefing.
"Ladies and gentlemen, by the end of the day, if we're lucky, the dragon will have caught the scent of that ...bait... and we'll have a fight on our hands. Now... It comes to my attention that not all of you have hunted dragons, so here's a crash course; When see the dragon, tell everybody around you as loudly as possible, point to where it is coming from, and then sound the fog horn. Most Dragons will attempt to engage the ship by flying back and forth, dousing it in fire, ice, lightning, or whatever. It is crucial that somebody mans the rope harpoon and hits the dragon, before it rips our ship limb from limb. From that point it will be anchored to us, and be extremely limited in it's mobility. It will then be a lot like a firefight, taking cover and shooting at it when you need to. Once fatigues, it will land on the top deck above the balloon. That's where we finish it off. Should it break free from the harpoon, it will attempt to slink hack into the hole from whence it came, and we'll have to do the ugly job of flushing the beast out."

John Caine's put his hand to his chin in thought.
"This one's a fire breather, but far from basic. He's got scales like rocks and a tail that could derail a train, so don't be to eager on slaying it ye olde knight style, I want to see guns only this time. Now, go do what yah want, hang out or somethin' put keep your eyes peeled, and your ears open, if you smell sulfer, he's right on us."

Enki
Enki was in the process of shadowing John Caine's throughout the past two days, and seemed to have a point to never be much more than a room away from him. He said little to anybody over the past two days, with the only notable thing about him being the way he tensed up whenever Klavdiya was in a certain proximity to the Captain, at times going to far as to stare directly at her until she was a comfortable distance again. For now though, he sat on a barrel, and for some reason, he saw fit to add an additional layer of bandages to his disguise, and so he was in the process of doing exactly that.

Alton
Alton has been in the process of organizing his kitchen this far; with things ranging from simple cutlery to advanced alchemical tools; after all, if he was going to cook some dragon, it was very important that he separate the trace amounts of Philosopher's stone from the meat, as consuming the unrefined substance can cause... complications. Naturally, he took this job very seriously.
 
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"Felwinter, oh, Felwinter..." Corvyx hummed quietly to himself, having found a spot to settle down. On the deck, with the rest of the crew, the former soldier found himself leaning against the safety railing. He remained quiet as John spoke, choosing to just listen to his new captain's words. He wasn't surprised that the 'Legendary' John Cain had a plan to take down a dragon, but what did catch his attention was how simple the man made it seem.

'Harpoon and shoot to death.' Cor chuckled under his breath, a light smirk making its way across his face. It seemed simple, but he knew it wouldn't be. It never was. No, of course not - something would probably go wrong. It always did.

Pushing away from the railing, Cor rubbed his nose while sniffling. Was that sulfur he smelled? No, it was the smell of hunger. Or rather, he could smell some faint aroma from the kitchen and it made him hungry. Which raised a very important question - were dragons edible?

He'd have to ask Captain Cain.

Lazily saluting John when he passed him, Cor's gaze drifted on Enki and the former soldier made note of the bandaged guy. Definitely someone he'd have to keep an eye on. He was too... Strange.

Eh, it could wait until after he finished investigating the delicious smell coming from the kitchen.
 
A group dressed in suits watched from the shadows as the ship made its descent. Their interest was piqued when it was revealed that it was a crew that the captain was looking for.

It would be a few moments later that Klavdiya approached, sharply dressed and towering over most of the crowd. Her presence was enough to create an invisible barrier among everyone surrounding her, but she passed them indifferently. She gave no one but the captain herself her gaze, focused on her goal, "I am Klavdiya." She said, approaching him, "I want to join your crew." She stuck out her hand for a handshake. It hung in the air stiffly, almost threatening to crush his hand instead. Her other hand griped the handle of her suitcase. On her shoulder was a bird who looked to have a greater range of emotions than her cold expression gave.

This was not a split-second decision on Klavdiya's behalf. There had been much talk among the Nadezhkins' about expanding their reach. Nobles brought them power, but it could be taken away just as easily. Dragon hunting, however... it looked to be a promising market, unregulated and full of potential. Yet, a huge risk in it's unfamiliarity to them. With the Beowulf came an opportunity. Off Klavdiya was sent, taking what few belongings the family provided and her own loyalty. It was an unspoken promise that she would not fail them.

Klavdiya hung back from the crew the two days she was on the ship. She mostly observed and barely, if ever interacted with them. If they did not speak to her, then she did not speak to them. Her bird was sent out on day two, carrying a rolled-up message within it's claws. Klavdiya had also changed into much more... fitting clothes for hunting a dragon. She did prefer her best suit, but it made no sense to ruin it.

She looked at the captain when he came up, and listened to what he had to announce to the crew. The dragon would be coming soon-- her first. She listened to the instructions he gave, and to the description of the dragon... she could somewhat imagine it. She'd seen pictures of the beasts before, but never in the flesh. Mm. Her fingers ran over her knuckles. Guns weren't her forte, but she had no objection to using them if that was what was needed to get the job done.

She spotted the bandaged figure on top of a barrel. Like her, they had also kept their distance from everyone... although, seemed to have a particular habit around Klavdiya. She first noticed it when he had stared her in the eye until she was farther away from the captain. This happened continually, and might happen again as the captain had come up now... It was of no matter to her. She rubbed the back of her hand. She was here to do her job, and he would do his. If he wanted to confront her, then he was free to. Klavdiya wanted to focus her energies on spotting the dragon.
 
Vincent went back and forth between the options of being friendly and trying to greet everyone, or staying professional—or more accurately, regressing to a more timid state. He thought it could be more comfortable, keeping his mouth shut and standing in the background, just doing his job like he should...

...But that position of 'mystery' already seemed to be taken. He had been eager to get on the Beowulf, and as soon as he saw the others, he found himself rather intimidated; everyone seemed to be a brute and rough type. Obviously, he should have expected this coming in, but then there were those cold and distant types, liked that giant, scarred women that seemed to have no muscles in her face. Then there was John Caine's first mate, covered in bandages, and having said nothing since they all got on the ship. It intimidated him, honestly. He also noticed that everyone was older than him—Well, that was to be expected. This was a serious job.

And here he was, a childish shortie with a big ol' thick sheet of metal strapped on his back almost perpetually.

Well, if he was going down, he ought to go down in spectacular flames.

He tried to be friendly that first and second day; He managed a smile, and kept his posture straight. He was going to do this right. If he managed to greet someone, he gave them a handshake, tell them his name, ask for theirs, repeat it to them to make sure he was saying it right.

"Uh, hey. I'm Vincent. Vincent... Strauss. What's your name? .... Oh, how do you say it? .... ?"

After that, he remembered he'd forgotten to make eye contact the whole interaction. He always forgot to do that. Whenever he talked with someone, his gaze would always be at the person's neck or shoulder or at the incredibly interesting box to their right.

He might keep talking to a person if they seemed to want to, or maybe the interaction would be made as short as possible. Oh well, he made his impression. Maybe he'd like the next person, maybe he wouldn't. It didn't really matter anyway. At the very least, he had more names to call if he saw something weird.

The third day came, and all stood, listening to the captain speak. He felt prepared; he'd hunted dragons before. He was only worried about how coordinated the crew would be with their first dragon hunt. Vincent looked over all the faces he met, and tried to recall all their names. He remembered most of them, except that one bandaged fellow. He still kept his shield attached to his back, and it made him feel better about turning his back to a few of these characters, knowing they couldn't stab or shoot him from behind. Except in the legs.

Maybe he should double-check to make sure he knew how to use the harpoons and things. Yeah, he liked heavy weapons. That oughta kill a few minutes before he had to kill a dragon.
 
After the Captain's brief - but in her opinion, effective - instructions, Lorne found herself gravitating towards the area of the main harpoon. Her gut was twisted with nerves, adrenaline, and a whole list of other feelings she couldn't even begin to describe.

This was it. Soon, she would see her first ever dragon. And they were going to kill it.

Of course, Lorne didn't want to appear too eager. To assume such an important role would be bold, far beyond what Lorne was capable. Instead, she lingered near Enki, the quiet first mate. Close enough to get to the harpoon quickly if the need arose, but far enough away so as not to draw attention. Practically everybody on the ship had vastly more experience hunting and killing dragons than her; apart from young Vincent, and perhaps the tall and brooding Klavdiya. That being said, Lorne didn't doubt for a second the intimidating woman could handle herself in a fight.

She had tried conversing with everybody aboard the DHV over the past few days, with mixed results. Some were friendly enough - not that that was a reason to trust them - while others were more reserved, if not outright cold. Klavdiya fell into this last group, while the Doctor's roundabout way of talking had been more frustrating than anything else. Korvyx, although normal enough, made Lorne feel a little ill at ease. Vincent too seemed friendly, but did not quite seem to fit. Harmless appearances could be deceiving.

Still, it's not like she had ever expected The Beowulf to be a great big circle of friends. She'd keep her eyes open. But there was a far more pressing concern right now: one that had wings and breathed fire.

For now, Lorne found herself turning to Enki, who was sitting on a barrel nearby. She leaned somewhat uneasily against the barrel next to him, observing as he added another layer of bandages to his already covered face. The strange man had been quiet, but not outright rude, and in an attempt to distract herself from the nerves that were now causing a light sheen of sweat to form on the back of her neck, she attempted once again to draw a conversation out of him.

"Hey, Enki." One of her hands started fiddling absent-mindedly through one of the large pouches at her hip. "If this is a fire breathing dragon, wouldn't more of..." She gestured towards the bandages, "all that be worse if the thing got you? More material to catch fire, you know?"
 
"Yes, yes, burns and flames and the wonderfully bracing shock of losing skin and blood to the boiling heat of a mighty Dragon's breath. Ahh, to be young again, strapping young ladies and gentleman peppering a grand lizard with bullets before putting it down, stealing its heart, the Stone of a Philosopher, and escaping with profits a plenty. For the survivors, of course..." Ansgar Staudinger, or Doc as he much preferred the members of the crew that he had spoken with call him, was kneeling in front of his medicine chest, the heavy locks undone so he could sift through their contents whilst muttering to himself. He was modifying the contents of his medical bag, adding salves and herbs to aid in the treatment of burns and, well, some poor sod who happened to be on fire. The Captain gave simple, plain instructions that would serve the novices well, and keep the veterans on their toes. It did sound like a younger beast, or at least more plain, if not for its notably hardened scales. It would take considerable firepower to bring the beast down, then, but his rounds had left him relatively confident they would make it home, well, mostly intact.

Dragon hunting suffered causalities, at best, at worst swallowed entire airships and their unfortunate, or foolish, crews whole. Veterans and rookies alike could be consumed in an unknown beast's attack, while hunting one that the abilities of were indeed known. A crew ready for fire and exposed to great bouts of lightning could be left readily charred and a smoldering wreck in some forgotten valley. And did they indeed have a crew spanning from too old to, arguably, too young. He spotted the very youngest, by his mark, of the crew and smiled under his grim, beaked mask. Not that the expression was visible to anyone present, but he silently walked his way over to the young man, having locked up his medicine cabinet and secured his medical bag first. He might as well do rounds and check in with the crew while keeping the watch out.

"Why, young Sir Vincent, nerves are not too frayed, I hope? Oh, and a word of warning. Metal tends to transfer heat alarmingly easily, and burns need not have direct contact to occur. Fret not though, this is something even veteran Hunters oft forget, a bit of friendly advice considering your, accoutrements." And didn't Doc know that from experience? He'd treated more than his fair share of burns and injuries from attacks that, by all accounts, had not ever reached the injured crew in question. He spoke kindly enough, even if it wasn't as simple as going 'Don't rely on metal shields to stop flames'. Sure, burns might be better on the arm than the whole body, but no burns at all trumps both of those options. Just some food for thought for the young lad.

Giving the lad Vincent a friendly pat on the shoulder, he continued and found himself between the mystery of a First Mate, something that Ansgar respected more than most might, and a young lady who seemed rather peeved with him whenever they had conversed in the past few days. Not everyone appreciated indirect speech, so he hardly let it phase him. He had caught the tail end of the question about bandages and chimed in, the smile never leaving his face, pointless as the expression was. "Miss Lorne, I would wager a man covered in dragon's fire might have a tiny bit more pressing a concern than further kindling to the flame. Besides, the flames cling to flesh as readily as cloth, so what's a bit more kindling to a merry pyre, eh?"

Doc had both hands resting on his cane which, as far as the crew would be concerned, was just a cane. After all, he had never shown off the tiny fact it was a perfectly serviceable sword as well as means of supporting his movement. What he didn't mention was that the fabric could, depending on how fast it could come off, provide a scant few seconds that would mark the difference between burns, and burning flesh. Something that, to one unexposed might seem a pointless distinction, but to him and anyone in such unfortunate circumstances means all the difference.
 

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~Faye~ & ~Lainey~

<~~~<⭐>~~~>​

"Sooooooooooooooo...?"

The tip of Faye's nose indented upward into her sister's porcelain cheek. Big sky-blue hued eyes widened, glinting and shimmering, trying to peer into the scowled shut lids of of her taller red headed sibling.

Only creaking and rumbling of the DHV Beowulf's hull and outer workings and the ticking of the clock above the redhead's bunk could be heard in their quarters. They stood there, Faye in her skimpy top and suspenders, grinning and looking upward, tanned nose pushing into her sisters cheek. And Lainey, head down, long wavy locks of deep orange-red flowing downward over her greyed and worn button up longsleeve blouse, hands on hip and softly shaking her head, eyes closed.

It was not complete silence, no, but it would do. The shorter, rainbowy-headed sibling, Faye, had been talking non-stop for 15 minutes straight. And to Lainey, any other sound other than the sound that came vomiting out the annoying mouth of that little shi--"

"LAINEY!!! LAINEY!!! LAINEY NO-BRAINEY!!! 'Ello, love! 'Ello, love! Wibble wobble, dibble dobble, gibble gobble, cluck! Cluck! Cluck! Cluckity CLUCK! CLU--"

"FAYE!!! Alright already! Alright then, Faye!" exasperated emerald green eyes shot open wide, only in time to be covered by a trembling porcelain hand in a full-blown ever-loving facepalm, "Bloody hell, girlie! Enough! Can you not just let me think about a response to everything you said? A few minutes peace, girlie! I just need to think--"

"Ooooh! But come now, me dearie, you've said nary a word for near 15 minut--"

"Because you keep talking, me dearie! You just keep talking! I keep telling you the same thing time and again, girlie! You keep talkin--"

"And you are a terrible conversationalist, Lainey. You just complain about the other person talking to you. We need to communicate. Co. Mue. Nee. Kate. What do expect of me, girlie? To just sit here and shut up?"

"AYE, me dearie! And oh AYE and again sevenfold, aye! Please for once just shut up and let me think..."

"Fine then. FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE...! Just let me know when you are not too uppity to respond to me, Lainey Fontaine-Madsen."

A smile unfurled triumphantly from the rosy red lips of the tall redheaded Helmslady. A mind settling breath she took then the hand covering her face slowly slipped away from her visage only to stop at her chin and hold it. A stern yet, thoughtful look befell the 27 year old's face as her index finger and thumb of her right hand remained perched upon her chin; a perfect pose of a philosopher pilot, no doubt.

The pair had been comparing notes about the members of the crew. They had gleaned some info about their new cast mates over the past couple of days and what little or lot they had gleaned was more than a good enough start. Each was alotted a number from 1 to 10 in no particular order of significance. But what did matter about the crew member number was that was their code for whom they would talk about. Faye had given away her thoughts and insights rattling on just now about each and every member for the past 15 minutes now, including the "Cook." Faye had given her two cents on the top three priorities and now it was Lainey's turn.

Now it was just a case of seeing who would side with the siblings-- if any would at all. For as much as an ancient bucket of scrap and bolts (as Faye constantly muttered neath her breath about the condition of the ol' gal Beowulf), it was their ticket to what they had to do; sworn by blood they were, aye. They had but less than a year. And she was waiting for them. But the crux of their situation was--

"'~~Ello, love! 'Ello, love! Wibble wobble, dibble dobble, gibble gobble, cluck!" the pointed nose had returned to the cheek. Digging in, and annoying voice singing and songing in that just right way that made Lainey's skin crawl, "Cluck! Cluck! Cluckity CLUCK! CLU--"

"Oi, girlie! Alright already! Alright then, Faye!" Some may consider Lainey a tall and exquisite beauty, grace in motion, majestic in poise, but should they consider her soft and frail like a blossoming rose, they would be wrong. Dead wrong. This rose had thorns. Big ones. And lots of them too.

In the next heartbeat, Faye found herself pinned on the floor, right shoulder and wrist nearly popping out in a snap and a surprising strong arm choking her life away at her neck.

"Now that I have your complete attention, me dearie, then let me tell you that aye, I do agree with your top three. But! I would swap out 9 with 4, in me humblest opinion, Faye. Calm waters do run deep sometimes, right?"

Faye gurgled out something incomprehensible and then tapped several times with her free hand upon the cool surface of their room's floor.

"Glad you agree..." Lainey kissed Faye's cheek and instantly the lock and choke hold was released. Suddenly the redhead was in front of her cracked mirror checking her hair and make up then donning her leather over coat and flight cap. After a satisfied and smug laugh, she whipped about to face her sister and struck the just right "bitch, how do I look oh fab, I know, right, I know." pose for Faye. " Now then ready to head out to the briefing, girlie?"

Faye got to her feet, holding her throat and shaking out her arm. The newly turned 25 year old coughed roughly before addressing Lainey, shaking her rainbowy-headed mop at the taller woman. "See, I told you, girlie... you just do not know how to communicate properly. You don't choke someone and try to break their arm in the middle of a conversation! No wonder Captain Candy Caine hasn't asked you a single time to take the helm! Communicate, Lainey! Com. Mue. Nee. Kate--"

Lainey tossed Faye's puffy leather gunner's jacket in the shorter woman's face, and chuckled at the new nickname Faye gave the DHV Beowulf's main man. "And you... you just still keep talking, girlie."

<~~~<⭐>~~~>

As an officer of vessels past, DHV and otherwise, Helmslady Lainey Fontaine-Madsen kept poised near Captain's side, abreast with Enki. But her positioning was not out of pretentiousness or arrogance, but out of just dumb habit. She eyed the others as Captaine Caine presided, arms clasped neatly behind her back. When the briefing was near over and comments and questions were raised, bright emerald eyes popped wide in realization of how she just acted and where she just stood. Green eyes of the redhead met sky-blues of the rainbowy-head and hot pinks flushed her cheeks as Faye smirked and winked at Lainey. Lainey could look only downwards, embarrassed at her impositions.

Faye buttoned up her puffy leather gunner's jacket, sauntered over, cleared her throat and pulled her sister's sleeve and led away the redhead to relieve her big sister of her little predicament.

"Ahem... sooooooo.... Cap Caine. Mister leader of the Beowulf. I mean: Sir. If I may. Sure. Okay. So like I've seen the harpoon gunnery station and the harpoon itself. And it seems all in order for this bucket of bo-- I meant-- this fine vessel! But! This lass now, me dearie sis, Miss Lainey... ahem. Excuse me, my sister the DHV Certified Helmslady First Class Fontaine-Madsen, was just curious about the armour of the underbelly of the fire-breather--" Faye patted her sisters hand and gave her an encouraging look and nod. Green eyes never looked so thankful.

"Aye Captain, if I may, sir." Lainey cleared her throat as she straightened out her full length leather overcoat and her flight cap and instantly the regal pose and air of confidence returned, "the armour of the dragon you say is rock solid, literally. But if it is perched on the upper float deck then it will be grasping the deck with all sets of claws, sir. So we would need it to rear up onto its hind quarters. And this is where I believe my sister would come in handy."

Faye raised her hand and hopped up and down like she had to pee! "Oooh! Oh! Me! Me! So I do have some bags of these... well, not so easily and lawfully obtained substances that flash bright when exposed to direct sunlight. So I can sling them at the beast while another shoots them open whilst near the things face. BOOM!!! it's blinded, reaches for its eyes and underbelly exposed."

"Aye, sir. And the firepower that our crew has should suffice, however, should that beast slip down and away, depending on reinforced housings of the harpoon and its base, we could lose a major gun and quite possible a tear in the ships integrity--"

"--seen it before, have I, nasty stuff, aye, me dearie? Oh aye and again sevenfold, aye!"

"Nasty, sir. So perhaps those with the skill and wherewithal could shoot multiple secondary harpoons to pin it down? Those of great strength and ferocity could reel it in and tie her down and muzzle it--"

"--then drago-steaks for the crew and brews before bed time, aye, Cookie?!"

"Aye, sir. Well, that's just the musing between the DHV Master Gunner Faye Madsen and myself, sir. And of course aired out respectfully to the crew, first mate and the Captaine. Aye, sir..."

Lainey nodded curtly yet politely then returned to her respectful stance with her hands clasped behind her back. Faye smirked then winked. A coy shoulder shrug she tossed Caine.

"Sooooooooooo... whadya thinks, me dearie Captaine?!"
<~~~<⭐>~~~>​
 
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Arnulf Gehr Obstarva

Arnulf's journey north seemed to go on without note. His conversations with the crew up to this point were sparse, excepting the occasional question toward the old hands as to where he could smoke on the ship. He had not been approached by the other new hires, which was fair considering more than half of them seemed green as summer grass. He had kept his meteor dagger tucked away within the folds of his coat for the majority of the voyage, being sure not to show their presence. He had kept the Obstarva family blade tucked away in his trunk, preferring to walk the decks with the basic bow blade along with a quiver of drake arrows. The ship's new fittings seemed to not have disturbed the ship's flight, it being relatively smooth. Arnulf didn't exactly have a pair of "sky legs" just yet, but he was getting used to moving about the ship. He was far too used to having the solid earth beneath his feet, as Yhern was no true naval power and not trained on such a craft. His role, as the captain explained, was not to be very different from his previous one. Secure the monster to the ship or ground and begin inflict lethal wounds on the beast. I knew that his current blade would come more in handy for such a task, in case of the need for extra leverage. Arnulf stood at center deck with a few others listening intently, his bone mask and hat placed upon his head to obscure his face. He was sure rumors about his identity had circulated around the crew. He wondered if it gave them heart or made them nervous. Arnulf felt as though it was both, with no one mussing up the courage to speak with him.

He gave a stiff, military salute once Captain Caine finished his speech. It was appropriately short and got across the majority of the essentials for such a hunt. He would need to relay more orders when the time came, and probably have to give them again after that. Arnulf intended to help the Captain out where he could, beginning to note the anchor points on the vessel's deck to get an idea as to where he could place them. Almost on queue, the sisters on the voyage, brought up the very subject and apparently found the mounts insufficient. With primarily ground fighting experience, he could not say if they would hold and left the reply to the Captain. What worried Arnulf, was the rainbow-headed girl's comment about the blinding powder. Arnulf did not like the look of that one. Too much mischief in her eyes and mannerisms, that Arnulf couldn't help but not trust. Although helpful in trying to get rid of a dragon (while in flight...) or thugs on the street, it was not good for capturing and anchoring it. The beast would become enraged and more than like thrash and breath flame more often with it's sense gone. The illusion of control is often a trap within itself, for both sides. He weighted the idea of speaking up and thought otherwise.

Directing his attention to the other crewmen, speaking with the doctor and other military man. The strange, bandaged fellow seemed to be at the center of both conversations. Others seemed to think ill of the man, but Arnulf felt as though he could be trusted above all else. His manor so far seemed to indicate simple introversion, which explained his lack of speech. The bandages concealed the majority of his form, which lead him to assume that they were there to hide much and more scarring, as none had a hint of the sanguine color of blood. Arnulf brought a gloved hand to his face to scratch his beard, the fingers reaching under the dragon bone. He desperately wanted a smoke, but thought better of it with everyone sniffing for sulfur. He calmly adjusted his curved blade on his back before walking toward the bow of the ship, to get a better look at the mountains. He was always a fan of the biome, with it's cool breezes and stoic atmosphere. It was appropriate for such a task as this; this calm soon to be replaced by the roar of combat. A smirk came unbidden to Arnulf's lips at the thought and he was grateful for the mask. Otherwise, the crew would wonder why he was smirking like an idiot.

(I thought that may not have been clear.)​
 
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"Well, that could have gone worse." Corvyx mused to himself as he exited the kitchen, hands in his pocket with a light smile on his face. Apparently, waltzing into a kitchen while a chef is cooking isn't the best idea - not like that ever happened before while Cor was in the military. The only difference was military cooks seemed to be far more violent towards trespassers compared to cook of Beowulf who, ironically enough, just decided to curse like a sailor and force the former soldier out of the kitchen. "Fun times, fun times." He sighed as he turned a corner and figured he'd make himself busy.

Someone like Cor usually found it difficult to just sit still and do nothing - he had to remain active. Especially when there was a dragon abound. Though, he had to admit, it sparked a bit of curiosity in him. How much different would dragon hunting be from say... Trying to destroy one of those fancy-schmancy 'tanks' that had recently been put into production. The last time he had encountered one, a 'rag-tag' group of 'military defectors' had stolen it and Cor and his squad were given the pleasure of shutting them down. Though, the soldier himself doubted the tank had even been stolen - it was probably just a test to see how the hunk of metal would do in the field.

Goddamn politicians and their disregard for human life.

Well, whatever. Enough reminiscing.

Finding the armory, Cor pushed the door and whistled. So, these were the tools of the dragon hunting trade? Grabbing one of the rifles, he hefted it in his hands, attempting to get a feel for its weight. He recognized the model, but it was certainly different - the modifications made it clear this was for dragon hunting. Eyes narrowing, he took in every bit of detail he could before grabbing a few rounds of ammo.

"Oh baby." He muttered under his breath with a snicker. If his military captain had been present, he probably would have made some comment about the rounds almost being as heavy as her. Thinking back on it, Corvyx had to admit he missed the banter he and his previous captain shared. Perhaps he'd be able to see if the same would be possible would dear ol' Captain John.

Holding onto the rifle, Cor left the armory, placing the ammunition in his pocket as he made it back up to where the majority of the crew was. The last thing he needed was to give off the impression he was some sort of gloomy, anti-social weirdo. Because, let's be honest here, the whole 'anti-social ex-soldier' thing had been done to death and it just wasn't his style.

Humming to himself, he spotted two women talking to the captain though he didn't really pay much attention to what they were saying. If it was important, someone would probably mention it to him. Or, maybe they were trying to find out if what those tavern ladies were saying about 'Long John' were true.

Ah, that got a chuckle of amusement out of him.

Settling back down to where he was before, he sat with his back to the safety railing, legs folded beneath him as he sat the gun down in front of him. The way he saw it, it was best to remain in-sight but out of the way of everyone else - his own way of being courteous.

Picking up the hunting rifle, Corvyx began to hum quietly as he slowly took the rifle apart, carefully examining all of the modifications that had been made. 'Heavier so can it can be able to fire rounds capable of piercing dragon hide.' He reasoned mentally, as he slowly put the rifle back together. And he repeated the process several times, slowly getting faster each time he broke it down and put it back together.
 
The wind picks up, a strong gale blows from the north to the south, slowly turning the drfting Beowulf around from it's current northward direction, but not rocking the vessel. Above, the clouds are blown away towards the horizon. Still no sign of the brutish Fuinseog.

John Caine
John Caine closed his eyes and brought a hand to the stubble on his chin, visualizing how the plan would play out against the ferocious fire breather, and gave his professional opinion on the plan that the sisters have come up with for the coming fight.
"Never heard of a flash used against a Dragon... But if you'd wager it's sufficient to temporarily blind the beast, I'd like to try something new. One thing scares me a bit though; When it's eyesight comes back, but is still blurry, it's going to be bloody pissed, and is probably going to try to smash the first moving thing it perceives. Ideally, I guess, that unfortunate individual could be me..."

He slowly turned his head toward the first mate, who shot a look back at John for about a second.
"Or Enki... And of course, we're going to need something to make sure the crew isn't blinded by the powder. Though with the extra harpoons, I wouldn't risk having the beast throw anyone around. Overall, I doubt the maneuver would end in the Dragon's death, they've been getting tougher recently, but It may just do a lot of damage. One thing needs to be tested though..."

He opened his eyes, and looked to the sisters, saying matter-of-factly.
"I'm going to need to see for myself how bright that flash powder is, unless you think I can't do it without serious eye injury."

Enki
Shortly after the doctor spoke, Enki nodded at the statement, before giving an admittedly delayed response, in a soft, almost weak voice.
"I am not worried."
For a few seconds after he spoke, heavy breathing could be heard, though muffled and softened by the fabric covering every inch of his head. Over the course of a few moments, it died down and he went back to being silent. He drew the great sword from the hilt on his back, it was like the Beowulf in it's own way; an old object, repaired and reinforced with modern methods. On both sides of the blade there were an intricate engravings of an avian skull; most likely a new feature. He ran one cloth-wrapped finger along the edge, testing the sharpness, before sheathing it again, and doing essentially the same thing with his standard issue cutlass. He then went to checking his grappling gun and shotgun.

Alton
Alton took a quick break from checking to see if everything on the kitchen work to scare out an unwanted intruder.
"Oi! You jar-headed arse-monkey! Git out of me bloody kitchen or I swear to The One Imma tie your fookin' legs into a bow 'round yer neck an' give ya to Daggerfoot as a birthday present! Bloody hell!"

That seemed to scare him off, and Alton went back to checking some dials on a device resembling a large class jug with bits of brass machines attached.
 
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A girl ran through the woods quickly. Soft jingling came from her clothing as her hair flowed in the wind. A primative bow and spear strapped to her back while a privatize axe adorned her left him and a dagger on her right. Her foot steps muffled because of the hide shoes she wore as she ran breathing heavily as she ran twoards a big drop of some rocks. As she got there she jumped grabbing onto a tree branch and stinging to a big one that could hold her weight in which she started running from branch to branch twoards home. Shali had been called by here father, that was the biggest reason she was running so fast from her hunt back to there village. When she got there she landed softly in front of the entrance smiling as she looked around the primative huts and people smiling and greeting one after another as she walked up the hill there village was on twoards the big wooden hut at the top that had a dragons skull hanging over the front entrance, fires burned everywhere as people clocked meat and kept warm as shali walked into the tent her father was in. It was a rather well sized tent with pelts covering one corner as a bed, a big wooden table for food, and an altar at the back straight across from the main entrance. At that altar was where her father stood. "Pah bormah Zu'u los het ahst hin laan." She said softly as she brought her fingers to her forehead then gently moved them twoards her father as a gesture of respect which caused him to turn around from the altar.

Her father was a big burly man obviously a lot older than his daughter
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"Ahhh dii mon. Zu'u lost lot ahsod fah hi." he said to her in an old grassy voice as he looked to her smiling before he turned and picked up a beautiful headdress made to look like a dragon head
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Then slowly her father turned to her and handed it to her with a smile. "Niidro tiid fah hi wah drun un zahrahmiik wah sahrot rah wah niil staad." He said to her with a smile as shali stared at the headdress in shock. " bormah druv dreh hi ofan zey daar?" she asked him as she gently took the head dress and looked to her father. "Niidro hin tiid wah draal tir pah belur." He said back to her with a smile making her look down to the headdress slowly then smile and nod as she put it on. "Nox hi fah daar bormah. Zu'u fen draal wah un rah fah pah un fron." She said to him with a nod as she was now determined to do as her father requested before she turned around and nodded happily before going out of the tent and looking around as she took a deep breath then nodded before she started out of the village and started up the mountain in a run as she ran up the hazardous mountain furiously. She was going to give the dragon drovani (the dragon others are looking to kill) a gift and to pray at the altar.
 
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Lorn felt a blush creeping up her neck at the Doctor's words. She was grateful for the thick goggles hanging around her neck, obscuring such an embarrassment from being visible. Of course, the man had no doubt seen many a dragon in his time - although it was difficult to really get a good guess on his age with that mask always on - and would have tended to many dragon-inflicted wounds as a consequence.

Just as she was about to respond, Enki stirred beside her. When Lorn heard the quiet, muffled statement of the bandaged man beside her, in her nervous state, she couldn't help it: she let out a short, surprised laugh. She regretted it instantly. It was dangerous to show genuine emotion, even around people who were as good as strangers.

It was with a more sombre expression that Lorn watched Enki tend to his blades. Such honed instruments of violence - particularly the larger sword, which looked like it had been reinforced far after it had first been crafted, though the technique was not familiar to her. She would love to examine it closer, but did not dare ask the intimidating man.

"Well, it looks like I've picked the right place to sit. Between the man who's not worried about an impending dragon, and the one who can patch me up if the beast somehow gets past the first."


Lorne's tone was flat, and she looked out over the wide expanse of mountainous land around them. Soon enough...
 

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~Faye~ & ~Lainey~



<~~~<⭐>~~~>​


"Aye, but of course you may have a sample of the powder, Cap Caine!" Faye announced cheerily, yet rubbing her nose in a very un-Fayelike fashion, "yet in chambres they are. Soooooo... I must go off and fetch them from the dark of me kit then."

The shorter of the two sisters cast a quick glance at her older sister when Capt. Caine mentioned that he would like to test the powder in the lull time as a precautionary measure. Faye's spry features now included a bit of a twinkle dancing within her sky-blues as she popped up her dark eyebrows once she made eye contact with Lainey's emerald-greens. The redhead's reddish brown brows furrowed then a lone eyebrow arched upward with a "okay what are you up to, girlie" look in her eyes.

Lainey knew that nose rub mannerism. Little Faye's little brain was hatching up some kind of spur of the moment edit of their well laid out and carefully calculated plan. And ever since they were teens, Lainey knew that whatever schemes Faye came up with on the fly were rarely well plotted out, rarely well conceived, and well, rarely did they not end up in disaster once executed. And that just could not happen right now. And so with a bit of a huffy sigh, Lainey moved to intercept that little sh--

"Oh! But Lainey! Did you not wish to ask Cap Caine about why you are not allowed to steer the DHV Beowulf since you say you are better qualified than any other here since you have the... the utterly... how did you say it? Oh! "The uttermost top notch skill and training that would put any other crew member to shame?" Aye, that sister."

Lainey shook her head lightly, a terse smile lining her full lips. Blocked and re-directed. Oooohhh... well played, damn you, girlie, but well played...

"Well, she makes it sound much more arrogant in tone than how I said it, but yes, I do wish to let Captain know that I am fully qualified and absolutely willing to take helm as needed and directed, sir. I have well over the upper limit of logged piloting hours than one of my age and training. If I may direct the Captain once more to my dossier, the Captain will see that I have helmed numerous and varying ships ranging from frigate to freighter and from DHV to decrepit sky trawlers, sir. Ready and willing as you command, Captain Caine."


<~~~<⭐>~~~>​


Faye rolled her eyes at the award-winning smile and and uppity pose of her sucky-uppy big, red sibling. It would do her sister well to learn to better communicate with others rather than to merely communicate just how good she is--

Someone was giggling at her big, red sisters pompous big, red mouth. Ooooohhh... the engineer. 'Horny-Lorny...' raaaawwwwrrr...

A lone red-brown eyebrow raised and a hint of a smile traced full lips. Distracted and stalled. Yes, I still have an opportunity to get that little sh--

"Oi! Giggles! Don't you know that's the Third-in-command of this here vessel you're laughing at," Faye strut her way on over to Lorn, gloved hand pointing at the other woman's face, "you best watch your manners! She may look all mop-handled-up-the-arsy but oh no! She'll snatch you bald headed and lick yer face clean of all smart looks and crass giggling then slam you to the floor! BOOM!"

Lainey had to bite her tongue as she watched as the rainbowy-headed pest found herself sidled up nice and close beside Lorn. "Oh! But doncha' worry, Giggles, I know her well. That's me sis. I'll make sure she don't touch a hair on your loverly hair. Such loverly hair, you do have. And goggles. I likes those goggles, I do--" --sky-blues heavy lidded, chin tilted slightly and pointed nose nearing the loverly hair, and a playful smile lilting up at the corners of licked lips--"--I'll show you mine if you show me yours... it's okay, Giggles, I don't bite... much--"


<~~~<⭐>~~~>

The chilling small voice and heavy breathing of Enki startled away Faye's version of 'smooth talk' and sent shivers down her spine. And now she noticed the bandaged up First-mate brandishing some very wicked looking and already sharp blades, Faye, adjusted her position to ensure Lorn was between her and those very wicked looking and already sharp blades. A humbled smile and nod she tossed Enki... and as an afterthought, she shrugged a shoulder in his direction for some extra shine on, "Oh! But what sharp-looking blades have you... Aye, aye, First-matey. Nice sharp-looking blades. Sharp-looking they are, aye and again aye. Sharp-looking enough for surgery. Amirite, Doc?"

And even though creepy masked Doc was creepy with that mask on and all, and freaky one-eyed Enki was freaky with his bandages and one eye and all, at least they were not doing to death the 'ol' anti-social ex-soldier thing' like the other members of the crew giving their best impression of gloomy, anti-social weirdos. Well, they were still sort of weird... But speaking of weirdos...

"Oh! So, say, Giggles," Faye leaned in, gloved hand set to tuck some unruly hair behind Lorn's ear, "Saw you eyeing the harpoon gun station... we just might have common tastes, you and I... likes to make things go boom, right? Soooo... we could talk, aye? Oh and I've got to get something for Cap there. Wanna' come back to my quarters with me and check out what else I've got hidden in my tool box--"

"--and if she misbehaves, Miss Lorn, believe me, we shall take a trip down south and lock down that toolbox--" Emerald-greens caught sky-blues. Those green eyes burned bright, searing like molten daggers into those winking blue ones.

Faye smirked. Lainey scowled.

"--even weld it shut for good measure."


<~~~<⭐>~~~>​
 
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Arnulf Gehr Obstarva

Arnulf's want for a smoke only increased as he watched the fog and mist roll over the mountains. With that thought, another came unbidden. "You smoke so much, Arnulf, you might as well be a dragon!" It was something Garrus had said while they were getting drunk on the very night. By the sunrise, the sentence felt like it was said years ago. Yhern was an old fashioned and crowded city, which only made the feeding frenzy worse when death descended upon them. Garrus was one of the few that survived all five days of the attack, the other he knew of was named Apollonios, who separated from them on day 2. Arnulf wondered where they had gone to. He knew that Garrus wanted to continue the fight, but found our strategies and weapons lacking. He was more likely than not off speaking to some scholars or experienced dragon hunter about their experiences. Apollonius seemed the sort to continue fighting, but he always enjoyed the city. Apollonius would have been the one who was hurt the most by it's fall. For all he knew, the pair of them were together searching for something to fight off the dragons. He would need to find them once again… after a time.

Looking ahead, Arnulf could see that the horizon of his field of view ended at a ridge of solid mountain rock. Deciding it would be better to see past this, he turned from the bow and headed toward the crow's nest. The rest of the crew was still making small talk. Figuring he would need a spool at some point, he looked about the deck for a rolled up length of rope. Finding some on deck, right next to the feet of the large brunette with the brass knuckles, he crossed the deck and headed in the direction of the woman. He wondered how much use those weapons would be against a dragon, but didn't want to ask her and regret it. That being said, she looked amiable enough in a honest way. He couldn't place her name, but he felt like he had heard it before. Pavlova?… He would need to make a point to ask later. Coming to a prompt stop in front of the her, he stooped and grabbed the rope. A calm and quiet, "Pardon…" accompanied the action before he straightened himself and turned for one of the rope ladders to the crow's nest. Running his arm through the cord, Arnulf slung the thing around his shoulder and be began to climb. He did so slowly and steadily which was probably the best for him. He could imagine himself falling off the ropes in high winds or some other impediment. I definitely wouldn't want to risk it with the tail and wings flailing about on deck, let alone any fire. Coming to the top he nodded to the young… (sailor?) who was currently manning the post and patted him upon the shoulder once Arnulf had gained his proper footing. The young man kindly helped Arnulf, and grinned. "Newbies with air for feet. Always a treat." Arnulf laughed, "Is that a common rhyme or one of your own?" The boy nodded. "Only a few of us say it, but wouldn't be surprised if ya 'eard it on another ship. What brings ya're feet off the ground?" Arnulf leaned against the side to look over. "I used to live in Yhern and after it fell it didn't seem right to just find something else to do." he said almost cheerily. The boy was silenced by this, not being sure how to feel from such a declaration. That was common place.

((Sorry for the shorter post. I should have mentioned that I was and still am sick, but that didn't seem relevant at the time.))
 
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The jagged opening of a cave in the side of a tall mountains releases a plume of smoke, and from within, a low, gurgling growl rumbled outward. The sounds gave way to heavy thud after heavy thud, and the scratching of large claws on bare rock. Emerging from the darkness are a pair of crimson eyes, forming a magnificent contrast with the ashen grey scales, which were in turn marked with small but vivid speckles of red. The beast's head hung low from it's long, sturdy neck, and just under the armor on it's chest, a deep orange glow faded in and out, generated by the flaming Philosopher's Stone within. Behind it, a long, sturdy tale adorned with rows of spikes at the end swayed from side to side. It's entire body shuddered as it slowly unfurled it's wings, revealing a striking red membrane beneath. With one last twitch, it reeled back, before pushing off of the ground as hard as it could and letting the wind beneath it's wings catch and carry it away, as it blew, plumes of smoke drifted from it's jaws.
To a Doxan, Fuinseog had caught scent of the bait.
To a Far Northerner, Drovani was going to war...

John Caine held his hat close to his head as a cold gust picked up, and clouds started to race by, level with the Beowulf. While it was quite the sight to behold, it wasn't a very good one, if these clouds stayed, the Dragon could have a chance to get closer before being spotted.
"Clouds are rolling in mates! I want each one of yah to keep yer guards up, or things could get nasty! Now! Everyone take a step back from the railings, I want to test something real quick!"

John waited a few seconds, and with a pull of a lever, the entire perimeter of the flight deck shot up a small plume of steam. When it cleared, the railings had been covered by metal sheets that raised to about chest height. The whole process took about a second and a half.
"Perfect! When the Dragon tries to douse us with flame, I'll pull this lever, and everyone can hide behind the wall, it's likely to trick the beast at least a few times!" He pushed the lever back, and with a sharp clang, the metal sheets fell back into slots by the rails. Satisfied with the success of the most recent upgrade to the Beowulf, he started humming the tune to a chanty. The excitement could be clearly seen on his face, he was looking forward to this fight, and as far as anyone watching could tell... he hadn't a shred of fear in him. A stark contrast from Enki, who was carefully watching everything he could for a possible disturbence.

When Faye commented on Enki's weaponry, he merely shrugged, and began swiveling his head back and forth to scan the horizon intently. At this point, he had begun to doubt Lorn's confidence. It would simply not do if she was intimidated by him as well... being an engineer, she would be high priority for Enki to protect. He concluded he would speak up when she wasn't being talked to by someone else. He got up from his position on the barrel, and switched to a position on the the deck itself, leaning against the Barrel in a more relaxed position, listening intently for roars. He pulled out a paper- a copy of John's contract on the Dragon, and began going over it to see the various intricacies of why they were hunting the Dragon, and who wanted the Philosopher's Stone extracted from it's body, finger tracing along the words until abruptly stopping. He brought his hand to the lense allowing him to look out, and twisted it; generating a few soft clicks. He tilted his head and rubbed the lense with his coat, before taking another second to look at it. He had taken notice of a particular fine print section within the contract. He muttered in the same weak tone of voice;
"Oh my... not again... It appears Annabel Thynne strikes... again... with another publicity... stunt... for Caine. ...She wants him to propose... Would this be... legally binding? She's a noble, ...and he's middle class."

In the middle of the flight deck, the hatch to the bottom deck opened. Alton peaked his head out with a raised eyebrow, took a look around, and went back down, closing the hatch slowly. As he headed over the the armory to get a gun for him to carry around when the beast comes around, he scratched his head wondering if that obnoxious clang was John's latest modifications to his Beowulf. He thought to himself.
'One of these days, John's gonna have some stooge hammer some fancy new crap onto the hull of the ship, and when John eagerly presses the button to make it so it's thing, it's just going to blow the hell up.'
 
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By now Shai sat atop the peak of a mountain that say just above the cloud on her knees at a small little temple. Step one was to pray here, and step two was to deliver an ancient relic to the dragons cave. "Un drog bormah. Rah do lok, sivaas do nonvul sos. Vos mii lahney ko drem neben hin rel ahrk aak, vos ni heracy do nahlii stum hiiv hi ol mu jaaril hin himdah nol daar wo los sizaan. Aal pah monah aak hi." She spoke softly to the stone shrine of a dragon breathing fire into the sky. It was a sacred moment, one very few men of her tribe got to take part in, and even fewer women.

Then with that she stood up leaning to the stone and kissing the stone dragons head before lighting a special flower on fire that let out a scent familiar to the dragon, to the dragon it was the scent of a peaceful offering, a scent the dragon would know well by now and know that by the end of today there would be an offering in his cave as shai nodded to the altar then pulled from her satchel her father had given her a beautiful massive ruby like gem aligned with gold in the shape of fire
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The workmanship was beyond comprehension because it came from a northern tribes man but they somehow figured out how to make this offering, a special ore that can be eaten by dragons to increase the heat of there fire. It was very rare so shai felt honored to Carry it as she put it back and started back down the mountain twoards the dragons cave to place the offering in his nest
 
'Giggles' - really?

Lorn's expression remained neutral as Faye strutted over to her, starting to talk with such pace and energy that she could barely understand the rainbow-headed girl. Faye got close - much closer than Lorn enjoyed - but she did not shirk away, noting with satisfaction that she had to look down to meet the other woman's eyes. It might have been petty, but Lorn would take what she could.

Such an invasion of privacy was familiar to Lorn, and she bore it better than most would. Faye's advances were crude, to be sure, but she had dealt with worse living on the streets. Much worse. This, she could tolerate.

That being said, she almost clobbered the girl when she touched her hair.

"Aye, I was eyeing the harpoon... I must have taken guns like that apart and put them back together a hundred times during my apprenticeship. When you've done that, learning to shoot them isn't so hard," she said with a wink. She masked her discomfort almost subconsciously, even adding a hint of flirtation to her own tone. People were less likely to be cruel if you were nice to them.

"As for your tool box..." Lorn's eyes flicked from Faye's to her sister's for a moment, "I'd love to take you up - but perhaps some time when we're not all trying to avoid becoming a lizard's dinner? Although -"

Whatever she was about to say was cut off by the Captain's announcement and demonstration. Lorn eyed the lever with a glint in her eye, her quick mind already sketching in the pumps and pulleys concealed beneath the deck that made the machine work. No doubt a pneumatic system, and impressive to work so fast.

Her mouth quirked downwards at one corner. That being said, the steam showed that there was excess heat which needed to be expelled. Perhaps if the the pumps were connected in a perpendicular fashion...

Shaking her head to clear it, Lorn looked out at the grey clouds whipping past. Now was not the time to get lost in thought. Later, if they were still alive, she would talk to the Captain about it. For now, she needed all of her faculties operating at peak efficiency.
 
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~Faye~ & ~Lainey~



<~~~<⭐>~~~>​
In the Armoury, the sisters worked quickly to get their gear in order, Faye bopping her head about while humming happily, Lainey scowled, moving very deliberately and sharply, a small tight line for a mouth.

The redhead spun around quickly to face the rainbowy-head. Chin lowered and with scowl still at full intensity Lainey whipped a half-full clip at Faye and hit her sister square in the left boob. Hard.

"OWW! Girlie, what?!" Faye scowled and pouted at Lainey as the clip hit the floor.

"Needs a refill, Miss Gunner." Lainey said plainly, a long pale finger pointing at the fallen thing.

Dark eyebrows raised above surprised sky-blue eyes. Lainey was getting all 'DHV formal' with her sister. Not good. That meant the taller Madsen was pissed.

"Awww, Lainey, me dearie! What ever is the matter now? Why so upset?"

"Not upset. And, no. No, you will not call me such a thing. You will address me as Helmslady. Understood?"

Faye's jaw dropped and silently she stared at her sibling, eyebrows even higher, sky-blues nearly popping out her head. Another heartbeat passed, then: "But... what...? Lainey! Please! What did I do, me dea--"

"You will address me as Helmslady, Miss Gunner!! Now I said: UNDERSTOOD?!"

An awkward moment of silence passed as Faye's cheeks burned bright red.

"Aye, Helmslady. Understood 100%. Aye, and again aye, Miss."

"Excellent. Now then refill that clip, get your gear in order, then meet up with Captain Caine. Don't you dare show up unless you are ready to participate to the fullest, Miss Gunner-- so Ms. Madsen are you ready to participate to the fullest?"

"Aye, Helmslady. Participation 100%. Aye, and again aye, Miss."

"Excellent. Make sure that hair is tied back, collars are crisp, boots shined up and eyes bright and attentive. Very well then. See you on deck, Miss Gunner."

With hands clasped neatly behind her back, Lainey stared at Faye up and down before nodding at her. She then grabbed her rifle and spun around to leave. She was just about to leave when Faye mumbled something neath her breath. The redhead would have let it go, but there was that singy-songy sound laced upon the comment that just irked her.

"Excuse me?" she said as she turned about face-- the clip hit her square on her left breast. Hard. "OWW!!"

"I said: you forgot your clip." Faye smirked and winked at her sister, "it's refilled now, Helmslady! Right. Now that I have your attention. We need to communicate, Helmslady! Com. Mue. Nee. Kate! Now really, tell Miss Gunner what's wrong then? Please, Helmslady! Why so upset, Miss?!"

Lainey let out a noisy and annoyed sigh before kicking the clip back towards Faye. "Not upset. End of discussion."

"Oh ho! That's how you communicate?" Faye mocked Lainey's sigh before kicking the clip back at her sibling. "So tell me... Was it something I did, Helmslady?!"

"I said: End of Discussion." The clip was kicked back at Faye.

"Was it because Captain Candy Caine didn't pronounce you an officer, Miss?" The clip was kicked back at Lainey.

"Enough now, Miss Gunner...!" Kick.

"Is it because First Mate Enki Candy Wrappers didn't react to my foolishness, Miss?" Kicked back.

"Goodbye, Ms. Madsen." Kicked.

"Is it because I cozied up to Horny-Lorny--" something flashed in her siblings green eyes and Faye stamped down upon the clip-- "--it is! It is, me dearie! I knew it! Not my fault girlie. She winked after telling me she could strip down a gun station... so heated was I, I tells ya. Whoo. From the sounds of her voice too, I could tell she wanted to come with me to get the powder... raaawwwrrr... That and she was completerly and utterly staring at me boobies, Lainey--"

"That's because you opened yer jacket and practically thrust them into her face, girlie! What was that about?!"

"Now we're getting somewhere. Don't be jealous because she finds me attractive, me dearie. Stuffs like that happens all the time. Not a reason to be upset--"

"IAMNOTUPSET!! ...I am not upset. And I'm not jealous. I'm not."

Faye just smirked as a lone eyebrow raised over sparkling blue eyes. Emerald greens broke away from such a gaze.

"And besides, Faye! I know you are up to something! I saw you rubbing at yer nose, girlie."

"What ever are you talking about..." Faye shrugged while rubbing her nose.

"That! That right there, me dearie! You are up to something and you are not telling me! We cannot screw this up. We cannot. We need to work together. And so fine. Fine, Faye... Let us... Communicate."

The rainbowy-head sighed then waltzed over to the tall redhead, a brilliant grin parting full lips. Into her own hand did she take Laineys.

"Fine. Fiiiiiiine. I'll tell ya... c'mere..." she tugged upon Lainey's arm to pull the near 6 foot tall redhead down to her 5 foot 4 inch level. She then whispered into her sister's ear and slowly but surely, reddish-brown eyebrows raised over widening green eyes.

"I don't believe it... but I must admit: That may actually work, Faye...!"

"I know right!" The shorter Madsen sibling hugged her sister around her waist snugly and buried her cheek into her sister's shoulder. "So! Feel better now, Miss Complainey Lainey Helmslady Fontaine-Madsen Rawr-face First Class?"

"Aye, me dearie. See what happens when you communicate with me?"

Lainey kissed the top of the rainbowy-haired head. Faye giggled as she released the embrace upon her sister. She reached down and snatched up the clip before handing it to Lainey.

"Aye, and again sevenfold, aye, me dearie. Com. Mue. Nee. Kate."


<~~~<⭐>~~~>​

Standing upon deck now, both sisters marched side by side, rifles slung around their backs. The women held placid faces during their inspection of the sides of the ship where the barriers would rise. At certain strategic places they made stores for ammo if and when needed. They pointed at certain spots low and high and spoke in low tones regarding blind spots and high visibility spots. After one last conversation, they nodded at each other, hugged then parted ways. Faye went to Caine and Lainey went to Lorn.

"Miss Engineer," hands clasped neatly behind her back, Lainey had sauntered over to Lorn and nodded at the brunette, "I hear you are to take the harpoon station during the encounter?"

Green eyes looked over the other woman and a smile unfurled from the redhead. "Well, after enduring such a ear battering from my sister, then I shall be brief. If you can endure her verboseness, then I highly recommend her as a spotter. She is rather skilled with heavy guns and guns in general; she's served as DHV Master Gunner in past sorties."

A gloved hand reached out and patted the other woman's shoulder, "If you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to come to either me or my-- ah, just come to me... unless of course you can bear the pesky, loud, irritating, annoying, loud, verbose, loud chatter of that lass."

<~~~<⭐>~~~>​

"And here we are Cappie!" Faye said cheerily as she handed a woven black pouch to Caine. "Careful though, Mister Leader, sir. If sunlight should strike the innards therein, it will flash bright and keep ya blinded for a spell... and maybe even longer. And you might get a nasty burn too."

She lifted the cover of her waist satchel and showed her stores inside. "Got me 6 of these that will flash brighter than staring into the sun herself, I do. And 4 of these... well... they go BOOM!! In fire. Sooo... if that thing torches Faye, then Faye goes BOOM!!"

The rainbowy-headed woman winked before giggling as if getting blown up was the funniest thing ever. "Okay. Alright then. How about I put a couple of these flashies exposed and a couple go BOOMS!! in the bait then Cap Caine,sir? Should the beastly scaled gal roast its meal, she'll get a nasty surprise. That and a crackshot should be able to hit the flashie and the flash should ignite the go BOOM!! while it holds it in its mouth."

A gloved hand patted the rifle at her shoulder, "I'm a really, really good shot too." She then winked and patted the scattergun strapped to her lower back, "But I don't mind jumping into the fray with me trusty carbine. At your service, mister leader Cappy. But I shall play eyes for a bit for the Harpooner, Miss Giggles, over there, okay?"

With curt nod and a tug at her gunner's cap she then marched over to inspect good spots in which to place her go BOOMS!! in the bloody bait.

<~~~<⭐>~~~>​
 
In a short period of time, the cold wind had died down, giving way to cool still air as the clouds slowed to a crawl around the ship. Enki looked to the sky around them, and visibly tensed up, checking to see if his shotgun was loaded with a series of soft clicks and taps, his fingers moving with a swift, almost spiderlike precision. The sudden quiet uncovered the sound of Enki's breathing. It was muffled, labored, perhaps even ...pained, it was drowned out as the wind picked up again. A warm gust from starboard swept over the ship and it's crew, a very stark contrast from the cold air normally associated with this climate and altitude.

With a jerk, Enki shot up from his sitting position, and began searching every inch of the horizon, only to stop for a second, turning his head slowly towards Lorne.
"...Aim true. That harpoon, takes twenty, seconds... to reel in and re-pressurize."
The warm wind now carried something with it, an undeniable omen of imminent conflict, a faint, yet distinct and unmistakable, trace of a sulphuric scent. Captain Caine picked up on this, and his expression slowly morphed into a crooked smile with shining eyes. He yelled to the crew, voice interwoven with excitement.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! To arms! To arms! The Dragon is almost upon us, and if half of what I heard about this bugger is true, then we're in for one hell of a brawl! Lainey! I'm gonna need you to take the wheel and keep the bastard from wrapping around us once we stick 'im with a harpoon! I'll be our on the deck, keeping the greenhorns from getting gutted!"

John paused for a second, rushing to the railing and holding a hand to his brow to shield from the sun, before pointing at a shadow tearing it's way through the clouds, making a large circle around the ship.
"There's the bloody beast! Keep an eye on 'im, and when 'e comes, let's show that worm how Captain Caine's crew kicks ass!"

The large black silhouette, from within the cover of the white clouds, circled around the Beowulf, moving from starboard, to directly in front of the bow, to port side. That is when the shadow seemingly stopped moving altogether... before in roughly the center. Then came the roar. A low pitched, reverberating, almost metallic sounding roar swept across the ship, loud enough that even from this distance, it rattled the metal railings... the shadow that betrayed the Dragon's position in the clouds started to grow bigger, until the firey beast

Fuinseog ripped out from the clouds, beating it's magnificent wings furiously. It picked up speed towards the Beowulf, wings now held straight out, slicing through the air. From the coroner's of it's mouth, it left twin trails of smoke through it's path of flight. It's chest was now glowing a deep orange, and as it was inching closer, John gripped the handle of the cover-wall mechanism he had tested just before, and issued a loud command to all crew on the flight deck;
"HIT THE FLOOR MATES!"

John pulled the lever, steam shot up from the railing's and the Dragon breathed fire on the flight deck, though much of the flame was blocked by the split second rise of the cover wall, protecting anyone who heeded John's command, or was at the very bow or stern of the flight deck. Two explosive blasts were heard, and the firey beast swept under the ship.

Enki got up the moment it was safe to, both barrels of his shotgun smoking black smoke. John shouted.
"That was a damn fast one! 'e's comin' around again mates!" He motioned for Lainey to take the wheel as he loaded strange shells laced with Philosopher's stone into his custom-made rifle, and headed to towards the middle of the deck, chucking to himself as he started taking shots at the beast. Alton lifted up a hatch and emerged from the depths of the ship, lugging a shiny brass gattling gun with the words "Fuk Dragins" (Yes, spelled like that.) etched on every barrel in jagged letters. He placed it down delicately, and went back below deck.
"Yah bettah give it back when yer done with it!"

Once more, the Dragon tore through the sky, wings cutting the air like swords, mouth brimming with fire, heading towards the Beowulf with feral rage.
 
How many times had he ripped this damned rifle apart and put it back together? He lost count after the twentieth time, in all honesty. But he had continued to dismantle the rifle as his mind wandered, getting lost in his own thoughts. He remembered when he first joined Cain's Crew - boy, that was a doozy. Just proved that the past mattered and no matter how fast you moved forward, your history was like your shadow.

Glancing upwards, he gave John a curious glance before directing his gaze back to the rifle that he had put back together. Then, he heard John's voice.

"HIT THE FLOOR MATES!"

That brought back sudden memories and the sight of the ship blended in with the war-torn city of Felwinter. Nevertheless, Corvyx fell to his side, pulling the rifle to his chest as he began to load it as the cover walls came up. Rolling onto his back, Corvyx hummed calmly as the barriers were lowered and he stood up.

"This is exciting." He commented apathetically as he took aim with the rifle and he could hear the sounds of the harpoons being manned. Aiming down the sight of the rifle, Corvyx followed the beast's flight path as he moved slowly before firing, the bullet whizzing through the air as it found its mark in the dragon's shoulder, though it didn't seem to slow the beast down. "Y'know, it seems like this bitch is taking this quite personally. Who here insulted its mother?" Corvyx inquired as he fired once more, the same calm expression on his face.
 
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