Through the Aether

The travels of the Hydra's Breath have taken it from one end of the globe to the other. The search for a lost relic, the race for a rediscovered piece of electech, the dividends of a willing merchant and more fuel her boilers and crew. Her captain, Jonathan Ormon, has been in dock for a month now. Complications have arisen, and the captain finds himself in need of a few good crewmen.

This is a steampunk RP. The use of electricity has largely been lost to the world, save a few notable exceptions in the most notable of scientists laboratories. The world largely relies on steam engines and kinetic technology for power, kinetic referring to clockpunk and spring power.

The Hydra's Breath is only scheduled to be port for another few days. Who are you and what do you bring to the vessel?

Is this idea still on??

I would be quite interested in a steampunk RP

Indeed it is! Make up your character and let's fire it up.

Nice!

I'll post it in a few minutes.

Was this thought to be a multiple player or a one-on-one?

Her name is Rosamund Littlefield.

She was born in a country house, being the youngest of six brothers. Thus, she was raised more like a boy than a girl. She used to be a tomboy, dress like a boy, act like a boy... From a young age she learned to use guns, knives and other kinds of weapons since their father was a hunter.

When she became an adult, she decided to leave her family and went to the city. There she discovered her feminine side. From then on she decided to dress in a more fashionable way and left behind her trousers. Her closet is full of short skirts and tight blouses, shirts and vests, which show off her slender body. However, you can still see some masculine details in her behaviour, and she loves wearing high boots, which allow her to carry out her missions better than high heels would do.

http://d30opm7hsgivgh.cloudfront.net/upload/11138336_LFS0iSsq_b.jpg

Due to her skills, she has been doing different jobs as bounty hunter. She is very skilled in dressing up and pretending to be anyone, even men, as she is quite slim and her bust is not too big. She loves wearing wigs, not only when she disguises, but also in her daily life. However, she particularly likes long black straight hair.

http://www.bloblo.pl/image/236352/default/steam1.jpg

It has been three years since she left home, and she has grown tired of the city, so when she heard about Jonathan Ormon recruiting people for his ship, she didn't think twice. She wouldn't get a no for answer, so she gathered her few belongings and went to meet the man who would hire her.

[[I was going to be shocked if anyone replied at all. We can pick up more crew as the Hydra makes ports of call. For now, let's just jump in to it.

I'm a DM and a game designer, so I tend to narrate a fair bit. Do you prefer to RP via post-by-post dialogue or make all your actions and speech in one go?]]

Ormon dragged hard on the pipe of the hookah, puffing out inelegant smoke rings. They would fly straight for a moment then lose their form. He frowned and set to it again just as the door to his shipboard suite cracked.

"Pardon, captain," called his equerry Roan, "lady applying for the positions shipboard."

The door creaked open on tarnished brass hinges and in stepped a slender beauty. Ormon hastily blew his lungs clear away from the visitor, who stepped forward and introduced herself. He took her hand and noted with interest the subtle callouses formed across the ridges of her fair hands.

"Madam," he murmured, appraising her. The worn leather of her scabbards and holsters was a welcome sight, and the sensible dress was a plus as well. Too many women had tried to board the Hydra prepared for a chauffered outing. No so Miss Rosamund.

"The duties of the positions will be strenuous. Late hours, odd watches, frequent drilling and sometimes skirmishes, should we be boarded. Are you prepared for that?"

He leaned back in the padded armchair. His hair was going to gray at the temples slightly as well as flecking along the sides. His skin was leathery and worn from years exposed to the chill climes of the altitudes, what little of it that showed from the faded navy coat he wore. A waistcoat and fitted straps crossed his chest beneath it over faded canvas trousers tucked into high "corsair" style boots. The hilt of a blade projected from the back of the desk and there was a flash of brass and wood from a curved shape nestled under his arm.

"Skirmishes are my specialty, captain"; she replied quickly. "I can show you if you don't believe me", she continued as she placed her hand on her hip knife.

She didn't want it to sound as a threat but she was quite tired of having to prove her worth each time she applied for a new job. It wasn't because of her clothes, she had tried dressing in so many ways, but she was always considered unfit. Even when she dressed as a man. Those times were worse, because they laughed at such a small rascal. Finally, she discovered dressing nicely gave her a puls after her skills were proven, so she had long forgotten about disguising herself when applying for jobs. But it was always the same routine: girls can't do this job, this is too rough, go back home to your mummy... And at the end, she always had to shed some male blood to prove herself. She hopen it would be different this time.

"Don't let my appearance fool you, Mr. Ormon. I can assure you I do my job as well as any men would. Or even better, as I'm silent and clean, something that can't be said of most of my fellow male companions", she added.

"Truth, that," he chuckled. "Our manifest often contains operations of a sensitive nature that have nearly a hundred percent of the time been compromised by my men's lack of skill."

"Besides," he cocked an eyebrow, "then there'd be blood on my carpets. And I just got the brine from our last trip at sea out."

He knocked the coal from the hookah and stood clumsily. One leg seemed to respond slowly. "Well enough, Miss. Let's show the Hydra."

[[And unfortunately, I have to go to work now (it's 4 PM where I am - yay industry!) I'm going to draw up the Hydra and post it when I get off tonight. ]]

[[I'll write a bit in the meantime ]]

Rosie was happy not having to shed any blood. She'd done it, but she wasn't in the mood for it right then. She liked the captain, he seemed to be quite a smart man.

She felt a bit sad when she saw him limp a bit. She wondered what had happened to him. The guess said he had been injured in a battle, as it was the usual.

"Thank you, captain. You won't regret getting me in, I assure you that", she said finally. "And where is the rest of the crew? I'd like to introduce myself as soon as possible, so that there is not any misunderstanding..."

[[Yeah, sorry bout that, been a hectic weekend.]]

Ormon rolled his eyes. Mistakes indeed. One of the ever enduring stereotypes of the sailing folk was the ninety percent chance the average crew member was a rapist. Unfortunately, this was more often than not the truth.

He limped over to the hatch to his suite. A brass and copper box, still showing verdigris despite his best efforts, was bolted to the interior frame. He opened it on squealing hinges - yet another futile effort - and revealed a mic head attached to a length of cabling. A simple crank was installed next to it and Ormon wound it up quickly. A dance of static filled the air and outside something clicked on with a loud hum.

"Attention crew, attention. Senior staff meeting in twenty minutes. I repeat, twenty minutes."

He closed the lid and moved over to a diagram of the ship laid out on the bulkhead wall. "The Hydra was built by the shipwrights of Horus and Sons out of Egypt. She was originally commissioned as a flagship for a local viscount's attempt at an air force. He'd booked passage with our old vessel to see the Hydra unveiled."

"We were attacked by pirates mid-voyage. The viscount hadn't prepared for such an event and hired us frantically as they opened fire." Ormon laughed. "Course, we'd have fought back anyway. Seemed like the type of folk who solves their problems with money."

"Anyway, he offered us the pick of his fleet. Our old barge the Effluvium was wearing thin and needed brand new boilers and kink-engines anyway, so we agreed. We won, and the viscount honored his word. When we chose the Hydra, though, he had to be," Ormon smiled a little mischievously, "convinced."

"She has ten two-pound cannons, repeaters, five to a side. The superstructure's been reinforced to actually be able releasing that kind of firepower, and the hull's been lined with steel plating over the vital sections such as the infirmary, crew quarters and engine chamber. Questions?"

Rosamund stared at the diagram of the ship she would be living in for the next few months. She though it was a quite organized vessel and although it had seemed a bit old at first, she learned about it being fully equipped.

"It is quite a vessel indeed", she said. "I don't think I have any question. I prefer getting the information as I go."

Suddenly she remembered her heavy bag, which she had left leaning against the wall.

"However, if you could lead me, or show me the way to my quarter, I would gladly leave my belongings there before the crew meeting. If it is OK with you." she added finally, seeing they still had some time.

"Of course." He looked around and noted the crew too entrenched in the day-to-day upkeep of the Hydra to be worth bothering to take her below decks. "Come with me, ma'am."

He limped across the deck and kicked a pedal at the side of a large hatch. It swung open smoothly on well-oiled hinges, powerfully coiled springs driving it up. He grabbed a line that hung from the underside and slid down before motioning for her to use the stairs.

Below, the crew quarters were of a much higher quality than many vessels of similar size. Wooden barricading cut the hall into several small rooms, large enough for a bunk and a built-in desk. He made his way about half-way down and opened the door of a room. The bunk was made, he noted with a quiet sigh of relief. "Here you are, Rosamund. It's not much, but it's better than a hammock in the middle of fifty other men," he smiled.

"You're the only applicant who's come forward so I believe our time in port is coming to an end. We'll be leaving at noon tomorrow, so if you have any business to attend to, I would see it done before then. We won't be returning anytime soon."

((Are you still taking on players?))

Rosamund was surprised at the quality of the room. She was expecting a shared and smaller one, as it was the commonplace. And although the captain said it was not much, she was more than happy. She had trouble getting to sleep, as the slightest sound would awake her, so not having to share the room would surely help her. Probably the sounds of the vessel would prevent her for sleeping soundly at first, but she would get used to them. She always did eventually.

"Thanks captain", she said. "I guess I might go to the city later on."

She thought she could have visited her family, just to tell them she would be leaving. But she hadn't seen them for about two years, so they would probably wouldn't care. She wasn't to attached to her family, neither were them to her, or between them. They had always been more like a trainig house than a family. Nevertheless, she though she should tell them about what she was going to do. Thus, she thought she'd write them a letter and have it sent in the city.

[[Hey ultimate, yeah we're still open. Jump on in! Come in as a last minute appointment if you would kindly.]]

Roark Olivia Hughes is a beautiful young woman who is skilled in engineering and medicine. Roark has a very technical mind and can usually be found drawing up designs for her latest invention or working on improving something around her. Her knack for machinery is mostly natural, though she has read a book or two on the subject as well, but has otherwise had no further training. Her skills as a medic were taught to her by her father. It is not a field that she thought she would go into but it has proven to be quite useful for obvious reasons.

Roark is a nice young woman who will usually smile and try to keep the peace, there are better things to do with one's time than to argue. She does not have a lot of training with weapons but she would be able to use just about any nearby object as a means to defend herself.

Roark was looking at an arranged marriage and was never really keen on the man that her father had picked for her, so off she went to find a ride out of town. She was only so lucky to have talents that are more often than not required when it comes to traveling.

~~~~~

Roark had been told to wait, that the Captain was seeing to another appointment at the moment and at his earliest convenience he would return. So for now the red haired female waited patiently. She wondered if she had just missed him, the smell of smoke in the room seemed fresh somehow and there seemed to be warmth in a room that was empty.

She couldn't help but worry about what would happen to her if he had already filled the position she was looking for? Not that she was specific, she would work wherever he needed her and if that was with her medical training then so be it.

She briefly wondered if she was overdressed and decided it was better not to stress about it now.

Hopefully they would leave within the next day or so.

Ormon nodded and limped his way back to the hatch. There was another squeal of static before Roan's voice came across the horn. "Captain to the bridge, captain to the bridge."

He chuckled. Roan had been with him since their time in the Forty-Fifth, and not one vessel they'd ever served on together had ever possessed anything remotely resembling a 'bridge'. He gripped the line leading to the deck and hit the release with his off hand. The brakes screeched free and the knot in his fist hurled him up. Ormon caught himself at the ledge and rolled out on his own.

Less taxing than the stairs, but uncomfortable all the same.

He made his way to his suite. Inside was a pretty slip of a thing, holding the tools of the medicae trade. Ormon clicked his boot heels together and tipped his head before extending his hand. "Captain Lute Ormon of the Hydra's Breath, ma'am. To what do I owe the visit?" he said before settling down hard into his chair behind the desk.

Roark had made her way over to a picture that hung on the wall and was looking it over when the door opened. The red haired woman turned to see a man that was no doubt the Captain of the ship. She smiled as he saluted her and then he offered her his hand. She was quick to accept it with one of her own. "Captain Lute Ormon of the Hydra's Breath, ma'am. To what do I owe the visit?"

"Roark Hughes," she said as an introduction. "I am here to see about becoming a part of your crew," she explained as she watched him take his seat. She followed suit by taking one that was on the opposite side of his desk. She figured she should lay out all of her cards.

"I'm a medic, and an engineer," she said watching his face to see if he had any sort of reaction. "I am talented at both jobs and am looking for a chance to earn my keep," she said. She did not want to just travel, she wanted to have a secure position. There were a lot of things that she wanted to do with her life....

And getting married to some business man was not the way to get what she wanted, especially when he made it clear he wanted something of a trophy wife.

His brow cocked upward. " As luck, or providence, would have it we are in need of an engineer. the last suffered an unfortunate accident at our last port of call and had to retire from the profession for some time."

He pulled a drawer out from the desk and removed a bound sheaf of papers. A simple gear was stamped on the front. "Let's see a little show of your skills. This manual contains the diagram of the mechanism that feeds the repeaters anchored to the railing. Number 7 jams often and is a danger to the safety of the ship and to the crew who operate it. If you would, please, correct the flaw in it's hoppers and belt?"

Roark was surprised when he asked to see a show of her skills, though of course she had never been expected to show anyone what it was that she was doing. Normally she just did it and people were impressed. She looked at the manual for a moment and decided that she would need to see the mechanism in question.

"Number seven?" She asked as she stood up from her seat. She carefully removed her red cloak and once it was confirmed Roark went in search of the device in question. It actually wasn't hard to see why.

The belt in question looked a little odd, carefully Roark pulled the belt off of the track and ran her fingers over the rubber finding it lumpy and oddly eaten away with at the bottom. She set the piece off to the side, it was going to need replacing but it was not the big problem.

She let her fingers carefully work over the metal that the belt travel on. It was warm from the day not from use. And then she felt it. It was sharp and pokey, though small and would not have been noticed without extensive searching. She reached into the pocket on the front of her dress and pulled out a screw driver. She quickly removed the piece in question and looked it over seeing that it had been damaged and it had gone unnoticed.

She ran the warped belt over it and saw how it caught and could see how it would interrupt the timing of the repeater and would cause jams. It was a simple fix but sometimes it was the simple fixes that would often be overlooked.

If the Captain had followed her she would just smile and hand him the piece for him inspection but if he had stayed in his office she would return. Either which way her hands were smudged, she wished that she had brought a cloth with her so she could clean her hands.

Ormon stood behind her, watching her work. He'd suspected the source of the jam but had wanted to see the skills proven, not merely expressed.

"You pass, miss." He set the piece down and shook her hand. "I'll lead you to your quarters."

[[Sorry folks, the weekends are typically times where I'm away from the computer for extended periods of time. Assume your quarters are identical to Katie's, Ultimate.]]

Charlotte Rochester

http://www.google.com.au/imgres?q=k...rt=21&ndsp=22&ved=1t:429,r:0,s:21&tx=40&ty=63

The entitled young daughter and heiress to wealthy industrialist John Elijah Rochester, Charlotte has inherited both her father’s ambition and bravado. Growing up with wealth and status have made her almost unbearably arrogant, stubborn and far too used to getting her own way.

Nevertheless, Charlotte has quick wits and can be surprisingly crafty when she sets her mind on getting something she wants.

If that weren’t enough, at just twenty two years old, Charlotte’s youth and beauty are unsurpassed and she is very used to being the centre of attention. Petite, slim and brunette, Charlotte turns heads wherever she goes, and she knows full well how to exploit her affect on men.

Charlotte always wears elaborate and expensive clothing, usually colourful dresses with her waist and bust tightly cinched by corsets. Large and decorative hats accompany these. In one, small concession to practicality, Charlotte has decided to wear long boots instead of formal shoes onto the Hydra’s Breath. Even so, her boots are heeled and fashionably styled. Fashion always trumps common sense for Charlotte.

Although she would never normally deign to travel in anything less than first class on a luxury airship, Charlotte has her sights set on obtaining a very rare and precious artefact. She personally invested in Orman’s expedition to this end, and now wants to join his voyage to ensure that her interests are protected.

Charlotte has next to no useful skills for an airship like the Hydra’s Breath. However as chief financier of Orman’s expedition, Charlotte intends to leverage a spot on board the airship, despite any objections the Captain may have.

How exactly Orman will react to having such a spoiled and demanding young lady on board is another matter entirely...

**

Charlotte stepped onto the deck of the airship off the boarding plank, twirling her dainty red umbrella in her hands to shield her from the sun’s rays as she took in her surroundings.

Behind her, Charlotte’s manservant Gerald was huffing with exertion as he carried two full suitcases of Charlotte’s clothing and personal affects onto the airship.

Crewmen were busy working, however more than a few were glancing her way as Charlotte waited impatiently for someone to show her to the Captain. She tapped her toes and frowned as she smelled the peculiar mix of sweat, soot and steam in the air.

“Pick up your feet, Gerald!” Charlotte sighed. “I need to get settled in as soon as possible. There are other people after my prize and I’ll be damned if anyone else gets to it before I do!”

Ormon showed Miss Roark to the crew's quarters, making his way painfully across the deck. He jerked to a halt at the sight before him.

"What the feth..."

He turned around and opened the hatch for Roark. "Pardon me, ma'am, it seems I have," he looked back over his shoulder darkly, "business to attend to."

Ormon wheeled and haltingly made his way over to Madam Rochester. "Ma'am, may I ask why exactly your," he looked down at the piles of - damn her eyes - luggage and noted the hem of a shift protruding from the seam of a bag, "laundry is doing aboard my vessel?"

[[Also, shockingly, I idly typed in "steampunk captain" into Google and got a hit with basically exactly what I look like. Huh. ]]

http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XdP6Lp2ceqY/SxLh4-u6NtI/AAAAAAAAEH4/NUjUAkb5gS0/s1600/captain.jpg