The Windswept Docks

[Doone]

A man stands thoughtfully atop a large crate at the docks, his hand to his chin, his elbow to his left knee, and his left foot to his right knee; a peculiar position, balancing on one leg. His dust worn cloak smelling heavily Kerosene and Lochnagar, and his Tricorn hat sewn and patched. And oddest of all, his face covered with a lengthy mask, the built-in goggles heavily tinted.

He perks up, tilting his head slightly to the right to look through his left eye as someone passes, a sly and almost devious chuckle emerging from his mouth. His tenor tone lingering as he looks back to the grand ship behind him as he lower his left foot. "Beeeehold The Windswept!" he shouts, obvious confidence lingering. The ship behind him appears rather large, yet scraped together and makeshift; several crew members moving hurriedly on and off with averaged sized crates.

The ship appearing similar to the one you once saw in a sketch.

He turns back to the street slowly, taking in a deep exhale; it almost rasping throughout his mask. He laughs again, wiggling around slightly to readjust himself, then letting his head hang down slightly yet still glaring forward in an odd patience.



((To set the mood http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s28VGuPpsfc Also, hey again to those who may remember me.))

[Sgt. Spoon]

(duude... long time no seen)

[N-Sunderland]

Woah, are you the same SteamWorks who started the First Thought Game on the old forum?

[Doone]

((Aye, of course. T'e one n' only.))

[N-Sunderland]

Welcome back, then.

[Sgt. Spoon]

aw I'd totally join in if I weren't already pre-occupied with the Burning Skies

[Adrian Locke]

(Long time since I've heard Vernian Process. Good of you to remind me that they're in my library.)

[Adrian Locke]

A sprightly young man stops in his tracks, adjusts his short blonde hair and looks to admire the vessel. "The Windswept.." He mumbles under his breath. He stares at the vessel purely analytically for a moment, before piping up "She looks fine, quite nice really, but she certainly shouldn't be terribly swift.." He pauses to peer at the vessel's engines.. "Not swiftly enough to live up to the namesake at least.."

The words come out with no conviction, and they do not seem to mean the ship any insult. It would seem the man is speaking solely of analytic observation.

[Grogmiester]

An exotically dressed young man runs up and speaks into the masked mans ear. or where he assumes the ear would be.
"the loading all done we cans set sail whenever your ready. I would like to go into town to pick up those tiny dancing...."
He looks up noticing the man in front of him for the first time
"Washer pleased to meet you, you wont regret travelling with the Windswept. With me at the helm your in safe hands"

[Piemanlives]

He was sitting in his office, his tricorn sitting peacefully on his workbench as he cleaned his tools, outside dock workers were running about preparing the vessel "Windswept" for her next journey.
"Tis a shame I can't join them for this flight."
He tussled his brown hair as he picked up his tricorn and walked out, he had a port to manage now and other vessels awaited him.

(Also SteamWorks, dude it's been forever, how ya been?)