Welcome to Gaia! ::

Franz shrugged his shoulders, not really minding if the woman never talked to him at all in any language. He didn't understand why she was getting so exasperated. She was the one who had started the whole conversation in the first place. If she didn't want to deal with him, why had she even brought herself into it? These explorers were a funny sort of people, he supposed.

"Mark, how long will this flight be taking? I have mine letters to be sending, ja?"

Dash harrumphed and settled deeper into his seat as his employer argued with Franz about the nuances of bilingual communication. He considdered interjecting, but decided that his comment would only add to the allready smoking keg bread from the cramped conditions of an overly long airship flight. Hell, at least we aren't doing it with with a leaky gas bag over a snake infested jungle filled with hostile natives. He thought with a private grin, whimsically thinking of an opperation long past. His frown faded as he remembered...no. He wrenched his mind away from that train of thought and turned to Helena to take his mind of the matter.
"So, what do you think that thing is, anyways? Why is it so important?" He asked, nodding in the direction of her state room where the crystal skull was securely stowed.

Jenner lightly tapped the pressure gauge until the needle swung into the green section, heaving a sigh of relief as it did so. There was a dull thrum comming from the engine compartment, the hydraulics and boiler had been padded down for extra stealth and the resultant heat was taking it's toll on the power train. He made his way on deck, resisting a shudder as he passed the skittering legions of little clockwork machines that opperated the ship. Extending a long brass telescope he observed the unsuspecting bulk of the ponderous archeological dirigible he was silently pursuing. He glanced up at the complex system of mirrors and lenses that rendered his vessel invisible from one direction: the direction of the airship he and his deadly mechanical crew were stalking. He didn't know what the professor wanted with the artifact he was to retrieve, or even how most of the evil genius's clockwork marvels opperated. But he knew money, and he knew violence. And if the professor would provide him with both, he would be more than happy to retrieve a triffling trinket. A crooked grin lit his gaunt features and he raised the glass back to his eye. Soon.

((can i be the ship's doctor? if not, then how bout second gunner? or both?))

Professor Lazar Von Janus sat in his small cabin, hunched over his small desk, looking over the crew medical records. Being the Ship doctor was all to easy. No one ever seemed to get sick, so he was able to focus on his experiments, which usually left his room soot covered, until he got a chance to clean. "Might as well go onto the deck..." he sighed, as he pushed himself up from his seat, and headed up to the deck. When he got there, the scene should have bothered him. Franz sitting in his precarious position, the lady they were transporting looking slightly peeved, and the captain and the lady's body guard just standing by. and the Russian cursing in the air didn't help. "Just an average day aboard, ey captain?" he chuckled as he walked up to join the rest.

The smell of saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal filled the air as Spencer poured his homemade gunpowder into pistol's forty-five caliber cartridges. After all, what kind of gunner would he be if he didn't keep his "personal collection" in perfect condition?

This beautiful moment of man and gun was ruined, though, when the cacophony on deck finally reached Spencer. With a startled jump, he dropped his jar of black powder, spilling its tenderly crafted contents on the floor. This was a very bad thing...

In a flash, the lanky gun-nut was up top and fuming. "WHAT IS ALL THIS RACKET?" Seething, he shot icy glances at everyone he saw. "My gunpowder has been compromised. I demand to know why."

Dash bent his head in her direction and gave a small smile, nodding towards the cacouphany on deck. "I understand, I've often found discretion to be the dividing measure between annarchy and civility. But tensions tend to run high when one is cramped on a ship with nobody for company but the same comrades you have been dealing with for the last few weeks. I'm sure things will settle down presently."

Jenner checked the sights on the harpoon battery, knowing that once he fired off the immobilizing cables that would allow him and his mechanized crew to board the expeditionary airship his stealth would be compromised and he would have a stiff fight on his hands. He checked once more over his weapons and the scuttling, chittering clockwork drones of the doctors. His hand hovered over the firing stud.

Spencer is struck dumb by Franz's words, blinking a few times. It is only after an awkward pause that he bursts into laughter! "Hahahaha! Oh, your Teutons are a funny bunch!" The gunner wipes a stray tear of humor from his eye. "Imagine me, putting anything less than premium powder in my babies. It's...it's absurd!" His laughter dies to a chuckle, then cuts off as awkwardly as it started. "Oh god...you were serious, weren't you?"

"My fault? My Fault? How is this...how can you..." Spencer trails off, running his hands through his hair and frustration. Finally, he lets out a sigh and relaxes. "Fine, fine, fine. I'll just make more gunpowder later. After all, somebody has to be prepared."

He then blinks and does a double take at Helena. "Wait, who are you? You weren't here before I went below deck."