5393/Talent Acquisition

Talent Acquisition
Date of Scene:	24 July 2017
Location:	New Providence <NP>
Synopsis:	Captain Flint is spoiled for choice when it comes to hired help. He and Gates hold a meeting for interested parties, to discuss strategy, and, more importantly, payment.
Cast of Characters:	Captain Flint, 632, 945, Lyria Mason, Starbound Flotilla, Sombra, 1119

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Captain Flint has posed:
In the past few months, Captain Flint has seen the results that come from hiring Elites. It's given him a certain degree of freedom--without the help afforded by these strange and diverse outsiders, the talent available for such an endeavor as this would've been considerably narrower. He would've had to talk old Ben Hornigold into going along with it--or worse, that damnable Charles Vane.

     So it is that he's once again sent out a casting call of sorts. Numerous missives, from all manner of pseudonyms, playing several angles were sent out. Perhaps those interested are interested for purely financial reasons. Perhaps they're interested in taking the wind out of Spain's sails, or perhaps they just want to cause some mayhem.

     Whatever the reason, all parties who answer the missive find themselves in Nassau's tavern. First and foremost, Nassau stinks. Garbage is thrown into the streets without care, and the tropical weather isn't exactly helping matters. It looks as though England has more or less left the place to rot--in more ways than one. Even in the tavern, the paint peels off of the walls, the floor is a bit uneven, the tables slightly warped with age.

     When the interested parties arrive at said tavern, however, there's no sign of Flint or his men. Instead, standing apart from the rabble that serves as the tavern's usual clientele, a cleanly-dressed fellow waits for them. The dark skinned, dark haired man introduces himself as Mr. Scott, his voice as deep as his composure is sedate. Mr. Scott is kind enough to show new arrivals to the meeting room upstairs.

     This room is much more cleanly furnished. The hardwood floors are not only even, but varnished and buffed. The wallpaper is without flaw or stain or crack, and the shutters on the windows are flanked by linen curtains of pure white. Miss Guthrie, the proprietor of the tavern, has clearly done well for herself. Sitting at a conference table, Captain Flint silently peers towards the door as his quartermaster, Hal Gates, greets the new arrivals with firm handshakes and smiles. In the corner, there's a tray of refreshments, including rum, port and ale from the tavern below.

Septette Arcubielle (632) has posed:
     In some ways, Septette is the model of a polite visitor. Despite her delicate and modest appearance- she's barely five feet tall, wrapped in a purple shawl that effectively obscures everything below her shoulders, and looks under thirty- she scarcely seems to notice the squalor or smell. She responds politely to Mr. Scott and Mr. Gates, and ignores the less savory elements of the tavern with total equanimity.

     In other ways, she is perfectly unsettling, even for a city that may be used to Multiversal outsiders. In the dim indoor lighting, it's impossible to miss how her eyes glow a gentle lavender. Her shawl prevents a good look at the shape of her body (as even her arms are tucked inside), but strange and inhumanly angular shapes press out against the fabric as she moves. Even as she walks up the stairs, the wood creaks and complains at her steps as if her shoulders bore some immense burden.

     Mr. Gates may get more than he bargained with when he offers Septette a hand. A cold, skeletal grip made of gracile and jagged metal wraps itself around his fingers in just such a way to avoid cutting his skin, shakes it perfunctorily, and then withdraws back into the silky cloak before he can get a better look at her claws.

     Captain Flint gets a respectful inclination of the head, once she's allowed to filter into the meeting room. Septette declines to seat herself- she's still skeptical that the chairs here could bear her weight- but she avails herself of some refreshments nonetheless, nursing a small portion of rum and standing in a corner as unobtrusively as she can.

     When she finally speaks up, it's in a surprisingly soft and emotive voice, albeit one tinged with a rough-edged synthetic quality that marks it as clearly artificial. "I am called Septette Arcubielle, to put a face to the name you evidently already knew. You have me at a disadvantage in that regard; I don't believe the letter you sent had a real name attached. May I ask for that to be corrected, before we begin?"

Lima Ultimos (945) has posed:
Nassau's dock has an odder ship with it today, one that screams 'haunted'. Rotted wood, ghostly sails, a crew that looks undead. Jumping straight from the bow is a tall man in a coat and a lime green tricorne hat, who begins sprinting towards the tavern.

Pushing the door open to look for his contact, Lima Ultimos wanders straight in, glances around, and then up the stairs when directed that way. His skin is gray and snake-like, his eyes are gray, and there's a bunch of flowers and venus flytraps protruding from his right arm (and that's not getting to the horns). "Ahoy, fellows!" The undead captain shouts as he shakes Hal Gates' hand vigorously, before looking over at the refreshments. "Do ye have any water? Milk? I don't be a drinker.", before moving to take a seat at the table. "The name be Lima Ultimos, captain of the Coma Navaja. I hear ye be having a job involving looting, raiding, and otherwise piracy? Because that be me game!"

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason had heard there was a call for crew for treasure to be hand andthat gother attention. Without the backing of the Union any longer she needed other sources of cash to fund delaing with Mursame ater all ground zero couldn't just get funds out of thin air. So she ha to make calls right? This was one of those calls really and the idea of high adventure? Well that's got her attention too, it's part of why Lyria's still out in the multiverse when most of her class after the great cosmic barf have fallen back to their home world.

However she liked the feel of the place, and Mr. Scott shows them the wya. He gets her thanks before she moves to meet up with Captain Flint and the rest of the people here. She grins a little bit.

Thanks for having us."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    Pavo is the one who handled most of this call. That is because, of all the people who are part of the Flotilla, she has the most experience in piracy. She dresses the part, sure, with her braces of odd-looking flintlocks, and her longer coat used for work, and her snazzy hat. She looks the part, rough and tumble, with a cutlass sheathed at her side, though an odd power glows in it. She acts the part, too. Every inch of her behavior, from her confident swashbuckling swagger to her calculated posture of agression, screams pirate tradition.

    So when the bird-girl follows Mr. Scott up to the meeting room and strides her way in, swinging the door wide open with a cocky grin on her beak, she gets right down to business, giving firm feathery handshakes to Gates, and immediately digging into the refreshments. "Ahoy there! Cap'n Pavo, of the Starbound Flotilla, though I'm sure ye know already! I've heard ye've got a needs fer guns, and crew to shoot them." She says. "I've got a half-dozen craftsmen ready to arm ye to the teeth, the toes, and then back again, if ye'll have the coin for it, and those same half dozen for lightin' those fuses when it's time."

    The other members of the Flotilla captaincy arrive as well, heading to take seats that flank Pavo's, though they're far, far less piratey. George is already digging into the drinks as well! Pavo focuses for now, though.

Sombra has posed:
    It's rowdy all right, but isn't that what a tavern should be like? It suddenly gets rather noisy as some of the new people walk through, as one of the patrons turn to another, shouting something angrily that drowns in the noise from the other people out drinking... and a fight breaks out, accompanied by loud cheering.

    Strangely enough a drink has disppared from the refreshment table in the room, but what's even more strange is when Seft of the Flotilla tries to sit down in her chair. The poor glitch will find herself /pushed/ away by an unseen force... on her nose?

    "Boop!"

    A shimmer of purple lines and pixels reveals the cause, already sitting down in the chair with food and drink. An amused face peers out from underneath the dark hood, though it shouldn't be hard to tell just who it is for those who know the woman that speaks up in a pleased voice. "Seat's already taken, amiga." How typical of Sombra to sneak in, huh?

    Fret not, as she pats the seat next to her, indicating that Seft should sit down there. And then she reaches up to pull her hood back. The hood was only useful outside as she didn't wish to pull too much attention to herself, even if she's got her thermoptic camouflage. "I'm curious about this letter too. But it ought to be interesting, considering where we were asked to meet up..." she murmurs with a smirk, raising her drink to her lips.

Captain Flint has posed:
Gates likes to consider himself fairly congenial, though the lot Flint's dragged in today is quite a motley crew. Some months back, he'd seen a lady with giant cannons affixed to her back, and found himself marveling not only at her strength but at the seemingly seamless blend of man and machine. Septette, then, is even more stunning to his 17th century sensibilities--though it should be noted not in a bad way. He stops to pause and wonder for a moment.

     Then, the ever-gregarious Lima shakes his hand, and Gates looks as if he's seen a ghost (or an undead, as it were.) "Jesus," he whispers in the wake of the undead pirate's excited entrance. He's left startled, ill-at-ease... and somehow, strangely amused. "I'll... have someone bring some up," says the bald, stocky quartermaster.

     Between Pavo, Lima, and the rest of the flotilla, Gates is beginning to think that some things are just universal. Seeing the avian pirate puts a smile on his face, and he seems a little more at ease when he ducks out. As he does so, onlookers will notice the tattoo of the Eye of Providence on the back of his head.

     Flint, meanwhile, leans back in his chair, his hard glare slowly travelling around the room. He furrows his brow, rubbing his chin. The afternoon sunlight streaming in from the shutters behind him twinkles against the rings on his hand. Leaning forward, he answers the question on everyone's lips. "My name is Flint," he says. "The other fellow is my quartermaster, Hal Gates. I do apologize for the secrecy, but a certain amount is necessary should a man of fortune wish to avoid Spanish sword and English noose." He rises from his seat and places his hands on the table. "L'Urca de Lima," the captain gravely states. "Even with the help of your craftsmen," he says with a nod to Pavo, "And with the talents you'll all no doubt bring along, she'll be a difficult prize."

Captain Flint has posed:
Gates returns, as does a servant or perhaps a tavern employee, with water for Lima and new refreshments to replace what's been taken. He takes the seat to the right of Flint, who continues.

     "Over one hundred cannons, and easily twice the size of most ships which make port here, if not larger. Complicating matters is her escort: three ships of the line totaling perhaps eighty guns each. Ordinarily, trying to take such a prize would be suicide, but I know when and where the Urca will stop to take on water. That's when we'll strike."

     "If this is going to be a success, I'll need to know what each of you can bring to the table. We'll need firepower, of course. But we'll also need ships, of which I presume we're in no short supply," he says with a nod to the various captains assembled at the table. "We'll also need a capable, experienced vanguard--for those of you unused to this line of work, that means boarding parties."

Josuke Higashikata (1119) has posed:
    Half-Japanese teenagers with weird hairstyles probably aren't the first things one thinks of when one thinks 'pirate'. Which probably explains why Josuke's late; they were probably giving him the runaround when he very politely asked about the meeting. As it is, he peeks around the door, almost meekly, blue eyes blinking in surprise at the assortment of people here. "Um... is this... the right place...?" he asks.

    He isn't wearing his school uniform here -- if they're going to do something illegal, he doesn't want to sully his school's name. But rather that outfit he wore in Brimsteel, the one that almost looks Western -- 'Western' as in 'yee haw', not 'western' as in 'American or European'. He does, however, have his hair in that pompadour. Or 'regent', if you're Japanese.

    ...Dear God but he looks so incredibly out of place.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason takes a moment to look at those who else are arriving here. She notices Pavo and just /stares/ at him, oh yes she's not forgot about Pavo nope. She doesn't do anything but it's clear from that look she's not forgot some of the stunts they have pulled in the past. She lets it go for the moment however and give Lima a lookbefore she goes to grab some of the Rum for a moment.

"Given the line of work it's only natural I would say, sir. Also that's quite a bit of fire power regardless of the world or era isn't it. Humm could you use someone tht could ... use the sea as her ally and slip aboard one of the escorts?"

She pauses to look at Josuke, she peers at his hair and wonders what magic allows him to pull that /hair/ off.

Septette Arcubielle (632) has posed:
     "L'Urca de Lima," the little robot enunciates with slight amusement on her lively face. "A flowery-sounding name for a beast of a ship, I take it." She tilts her head back to take a sip of her rum- with her chin up, it's easy to see that there's no throat there, just a black metal spine and piano-wire tendons extending up from a tan collarbone. That doesn't appear to impair her enjoyment of the refreshments, though; she makes a little noise of satisfaction and nods while licking her lips.

     "Sounds like it could be quite a prize, if we could take it without sending it to the ocean floor. I'm certain Pavo knows more about such operations specifically than I do- I shall just try not to punch too many holes below the waterline." The Starbound captains earn a respectful inclination of her head as well, as does Sombra; the other Elites arrayed here certainly look capable, but they're the only ones she has personal experience with.

     "But you asked for our individual strengths. I shouldn't muddy the waters with praise for my allies; they know themselves better than I." She parts the shawl near her side and extends her left arm, revealing a complex black-and-tan nightmare of strange machinery and sharp edges. For a moment, it resembles the arm of a skin-tone mechanical skeleton.

     Then the entire limb unfolds like a sadist's swiss army knife into a nameless bladed device of murder, as timeless and delicate as a baroque astrolabe, and parts of it glow red with heat for a moment before abruptly quenching themselves. An instant later, it all folds back into a humanoid arm and is withdrawn behind her shawl.

     "I am a machine built for killing, Captain Flint. If you can get me onto one of those ships, everyone on board it shall be dead or prisoner. I can contribute somewhat to a ranged assault with my magic, but it is not my primary purpose." Her other hand snakes its way out of the cloak as well, and a small colorful spark dances between her fingertips before guttering and disappearing. "As for how to board them... I have ideas. You might only need to get me close."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    Seft emits a noise like an alarm clock going off when she tries to sit down. "Surprised. Augh!" Her voice synthesizer remains monotoned, but she clearly is unsettled by that. "Alarmed. Goodness! You surprised me!" She seems startled in that robotic way. It's awkward, almost cutely so in a way, when she collects herself and takes a seat off to the side.

    "Aye? Captain Flint? Heard some rumors of ye, ye sea-monster, good seein' you canny enough to slip the noose. A tough prize yer namin', a hundred cannons and a galleon. Did a little reading up on how it exchanges with my home. 'Tis a harder target ye tell of than even Eagle-class ships." Pavo says, clasping feathers in front of her dramatically. She sees that stinkeye from Lyria, and gives her a smirk in response. "But some here know we've a talent for sailin' through bad odds, aye? It'll be tough, but with enough work and enough luck ye can have a prize like that."

    Indeed, just because you're a spaceship fleet doesn't mean cannons are just now suddenly obsolete. Pavo's read up enough on the local naval data to know that a fifty-cannon broadside will still shred a Kestrel-class spaceship like it's tissue paper before too long, black powder or no. "We've the strengths of mass production. Swords. Pistols. Cannons. And everything between 'em all. More than ye could load yer own ship with, enough for yer backup, 'tis the truth. We could bet one of our craft as well, but me thoughts are that someone may have somethin' better than our Kestrel-class ready and thirstin' for blood." She glances to the others; who wants to get their ship armored and armed with fancy spacetech? :D

Lima Ultimos (945) has posed:
Gates' reaction to Lima only has a (kind of loud) whisper back, "Be careful not to use his name in vain!" It comes with a grin. When everyone starts introducing themselves, Lima Ultimos looks at Pavo. A bird pirate? That is excellent, but Lima has no idea how to talk to bird pirates. "I be seeing ye be an expert in the crows' nest! Ye skills will likely be very handy for this." There's a glance at Septette and her robot features as well, a puzzled look as Lima tries to figure out what she is because the only machine he knows how to use is a telegraph, before the undead captain spots Josuke. The boy looks awkward and nervous, but he's big, and he looks like a good lad...and has excellent taste in fashion and hair. Almost as if he's ignoring Flint's explanation, Lima Ultimos jumps out of his seat to greet Josuke.

"The name be Lima Ultimos, lad, and ye seem to be just in time! We be discussing some old-fashioned piracy. Come, be taking a seat, don't be shy!" Lima offers Josuke a seat next to him, as he turns to Flint when the captain asks what everyone has - he HAS been paying attention.

"Me ship be the Coma Navaja, the fastest there ever be! Land, sea, sky, outersky, she be the pinnacle of all ships. One-hundred man crew, many many cannons, several swivel guns, and a crew willing to go into the mouth of Heck itself!" There's an overwhelming sense of pride, as Lima Ultimos raves about his ship and crew. "We be at ye service, Captain Flint, and if any of ye don't have ye own ship, yer free to board with us!"

Sombra has posed:
    The surprised reaction from Seft makes Sombra smile, looking rather pleased with herself. "You're fine, haven't you gotten used to being surprised by me yet?" Then again, she's not been stealthy when she's been around the Flotilla much, now has she?

    Honestly? The teenager doesn't look more out of place than the other people assembled here. Sombra turns her head to glance at the youth, offering him a reassuring smile. "You're in the right place, niño."

    As Flint explains matters and what they're after, Sombra looks rather pensive as she watches him, daintly eating from the plate of food she picked up downstairs, careful to not smear her colourful lipstick. Well, it's time to decide who does what, it appears. "This world is sadly lacking when it comes to tech," she begins with a lamentful sigh, her free hand moving to tap the air in front of her. A holovid screen appears, and she begins typing rapidly away as even more screens pop up in front of her. "But I guess I can dig up information easily enough with multiversal sources and from more limited ones in this world. It shouldn't be too hard to find info on L'Urca de Lima. And when the time comes, I guess I could be useful for the boarding party. Most likely they will be too busy with what they can see, no?" A sly smile crosses her lips as she continues reading.

    At Lima's offer to have others join him on his ship for the mission, the hacker arches an eyebrow. "Would that be safe for the living, amigo?"

Lima Ultimos (945) has posed:
Lima Ultimos looks at Sombra's question as if she's speaking gibberish. "Of course it be, I be living, can't ye tell?" He's not joking.

Captain Flint has posed:
Flint levels a look Josuke's way--a hard, discerning look paired with a settling of the jaw. For a moment, that stony gaze bores into Josuke, perhaps even right through him. A glance of appraisal, perhaps? He gives the sharp dressed young man a nod, inviting him to come and take his seat at the table as others have. "Please, join us. You're just in time, as our lively associate says."

     Lyria's remark earns a raised eyebrow. "I could," he says. "Boarding the Urca will be hard enough without the escorts. Taking them out of the equation, even temporarily, would greatly improve our chances."

     He considers further expounding upon this idea, but his meditation is interrupted by the sudden plethora of cutting edges bursting from the demure killing machine's arm. "I see," he says, rubbing his goatee as gears begin to turn.

     Gates, meanwhile, jumps in his seat at the sight. "Fucking hell," he utters beneath his breath.

     Pavo's mention of upgrades has him twirling the edge of his auburn mustache with definite interest. Well, it's either that, or the concerning notion of his name already having Multiversal notoriety. Whatever the thought is, he dismisses it with a natural smile, playing it cool. "Have you? I've heard some good stories, myself."

     "Nevertheless, I'd be very much interested in seeing these weapons of yours. It sounds as though they'd help tip the scales."

     Gates looks perturbed with Lima, giving Flint an incredulous look as the most energetic dead man this side of the river Styx bounds about the room. He raises an objection, but is quickly countermanded by Flint, interjecting.

     "I find your zeal uniquely refreshing, Ultimos--as does my man Gates." Gates scoffs. "You, and I, and anyone else bringing a ship shall have to discuss strategy in the very near future."

     Sombra's contribution earns the most visible reaction yet. "Of course," he says, tapping a finger to the table definitively. "I hadn't even thought of that. She's carrying a haul worth over five million Spanish dollars--surely another world must've had such a ship. Records, cargo manifests... It's an excellent idea, as is your suggestion of stealth and cunning over force. There's just one thing remaining."

     His gaze falls once again to Josuke. "You there," he says. "What's your name, and what skills do you have? You seem to have the eye of a marksman--focused, perceptive. Do I misjudge you?"

Josuke Higashikata (1119) has posed:
    Josuke notices Lyria's look and gives a sheepish, almost shy wave. "Hello," he greets her. Though he goes quiet when people start talking about their abilities! Septette's nameless bladed device of murder gets a wide-eyed look, and Josuke takes a step back. Not that he doesn't trust her to keep the implements of death to herself, but 'backing away from pointy things' is a matter of self-preservation!

    Lima's sudden appearance near him gets a bit of a jump! He's been in the Multiverse a... little while, anyway. Enough to know not to instantly react badly to things he might consider weird. So he smiles at the greeting by Lima instead. At the offer of a seat near Lima, "Oh! Thanks." The jumpy reaction from earlier seems forgotten.

    He also nods to Sombra, with a friendly smile. "Thank you. Sorry about being late." The latter was more to the room at large, but he is looking in Sombra's direction as he says it. Though he looks a little uncomfortable, as Sombra brings up that concern. He hadn't thought about that. But there's Lima's assurances! Surely he knows what he's talking about, right?

...Right?

    Flint's appraising look actually gets a sheepish grin from Josuke, and he raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck with a quiet, nervous 'eheh'. When he's okay'd to join the ground proper, Josuke nods, and sits in the seat Lima had indicated. He listens to the explanation of what the ship is carrying, and his eyes go wide. "Whoooooa... that's a lot..." Understatement. "And then you factor in inflation, rarity of Spanish dollars from this time... Heh! Jotaro would be so jealous!"

    And then suddenly Flint is focused on him again! "Huh? Oh!" Josuke stands, stepping forward and bowing politely to Captain Flint. "My name is Josuke Higashikata. I'm a Stand user. I have a Stand... basically a poltergeist. Not the ghost kind."

    To those capable of seeing it, a bright purple aura surrounds Josuke, and then a shape rises up out of that energy, from Josuke's own body. The energy quickly takes form into a solid, opaque figure floating a few inches off the ground behind Josuke -- a large, muscular figure, bubblegum in color, with powder blue armor. And lots of heart motifs! SO MANY HEARTS!

    "This is <Crazy Diamond>," Josuke introduces; 'Crazy Diamond' is said in English, despite his Japanese heritage. The figure doesn't seem to have an intelligence of its own, but has its blue gaze fixed on Captain Flint. "<Crazy Diamond> is better up close, but I it's precise enough to attack from a distance by flicking, um... I guess it would be lead shot? Flicking those off its fingers. But there's something else it can do."

    All of a sudden, the figure phases through Josuke... and then explodes into a flurry of punches. Thankfully aimed at the table. However, unless the table's moved? The flurry will end up reducing the table to more or less splinters. Only for a moment, though. Should the table have been destroyed as planned, an orange aura surrounds the destroyed table and it... puts itself back together. Once the aura fades, the table should be in exactly the same shape it was in before the Stand punched it.

    "I can fix people, too," he replies, as both the Stand and his purple aura disappear. "So if someone gets hurt, let me know. I can probably put them back together. I need to concentrate to do that, though. I mess up if I get distracted too much." He doesn't sound like he's bragging about any of this, either; he's just stating his Stand's abilities.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason thinks about it that much metal being fired at something was going to do damage to /most/ things she knew of, and up close? She gets everyone's cause for concern after all. She looks to the Captainf or a moment.

"Yes I have certain skills that would lend me to being able to get aboard one of them mostly unaided and disable the crew if I'm lucky, Or enough of them to render the ship not a threat for a time."

She notced disable and not kill curious. She seems into this plan and she looks to Sombra and stares.

"That is an impressive bit of thinking. In other world it would just be historiral record one could waltz into a Libray and get it more or less, or on the net."

She's taking a liking to Sombra's out of the box thinking already and it shows.

Josuke also gets a look over she nods to Josuke's mention of medical.

"Good you can keep the team together aqnd lessen the chance this job turns into a total blood bath, aye?"

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    Pavo's eyes light up. That's a lot of money. A /tremendous/ amount for a raid of this sort. "Matey, for a share of that ye'll have a hundred and one cannons if ye ask for 'em." Her greed is practically radiating off of her body like an inverse halo. She snaps, and Albert hoists his Matter Manipulator, projecting various three-dimensional displays of dramatic Avian piracy cannons; while Flint likely won't understand the dramatic power of a railgun, he can easily understand the number of zeroes written after various highly destructive statistics. And it looks like they even fire plain old cannonballs, and use some kind of "Erchius powder" for firing. "It's the start of things, not near the end. More guns and armor for yer craft than ye could carry if ye bought it all."

    Pavo actually caws out a laugh at Lima's joke. "Yarharhar! Casual racism! Ye really don't have a care on this side of the mortal coil, do ye?" She seems to take it in stride. And she's in the middle of this when Josuke shows off. She seems utterly fascinated. "Could bring a ship right back together with that, lad." She says, in an awed sort of tone. "Ye come right aboard and ye help right out, gonna need ye on this one from the sound of it. And this, this is a ghost, ye said? Strike some fear in their hearts! Scream and burn with rage, and ye oughta have a proper fright for 'em. Make 'em surrender easier."

Sombra has posed:
    Okay, that makes Sombra arch her finely split eyebrow even higher, tilting her head at Lima. "Well, I do guess dead men tell no tales," she murmurs to herself, glancing at him even as she brings up another screen and begins reading.

    You don't become good at hacking and solving puzzles unless you're able to think outside of the box and come up with various solutions to things, that's something Sombra learned at an early age. "It's only logical, isn't it? There are so many variations of worlds, though there are some common things between them. I'll head around the various dockmasters in this world later and see what I can find, there are bound to be information /somewhere/." All she needs to do is to look in the right place, even if she can't exactly do it the easy way. But hey, she's up for a challenge. "If possible I could also try to sneak onto the ship beforehand... I have the skills to remain unseen until the right time... and I could cause a distraction on board?" she offers as she taps one bright nail against her lower lip, her eyes glancing over to Flint as she works.

    Her attention then moves to Josuke as he explains how his power works, and when Crazy Diamond appears? She lets out a low whistle, clearly amused as she grins. At least until the thing starts punching the table. Barely managing to grab her drink and plate, Sombra looks shocked as the table is reduced to splinters. "¿Que?! What are you--" she begins, her voice annoyed as she manages to spill some of the drink on her cloak. Though her irritation is quickly abated as the table is reshaped, and she rolls her eyes before setting her food and drink back down before wiping away the stain on her clothes. "Could have warned us..." Well, at least the kid will be useful if people get hurt. With that she returns to working on her research.

Lima Ultimos (945) has posed:
Taking another sip of his water, Lima Ultimos beams at Flint's response. "Aye, Captain Flint. I be excited to discuss and work with ye in the future!" And then, the show goes to Josuke. The pirate watches him closely, a crooked grin when the table is shattered and then brought back together. "Ye be capable of miracles?! I thought ye had something in ye, kid, and ye certainly do! With that gift, ye be forging ye own destiny!"

Crooked glance at Pavo. "Racism? I be not racing here, unless ye mean the other kind! But ye certainly seem capable. I be looking forward to our assault, us captains with our ships be going to show them the true spirit of piracy!" The water cup is held up high, before being shot down.

"Dead men be telling a lot of tales, amiga. Ye just be needing to know the right ones to ask."

Septette Arcubielle (632) has posed:
     The yggdroid glances over her shoulder at Gates, giving the tattooed man a mischievous grin and an easy wink before downing the rest of her rum. It's a mystery why she'd need refreshments, let alone enjoy them, but she seems to be quite grateful for them nonetheless. "Fear not. Shouldn't knowing I'm on your side be comforting, squishy?" What's that supposed to mean, exactly? Gates looks like a fairly hardened man to be called 'squishy'.

     The way her eyes track Crazy Diamond's punches in rapid saccades is evidence enough that she must've seen the Stand responsible, yet the supernatural effect isn't what garners a verbal response. "I can stay far away if that'll make you feel better," she tells the young man with an appraising yet concerned look on her face. "Not sure if you could do much for fixing me up anyway- those efforts would be better spent on the others, I think."

     Lima earns himself a curious, appraising look for his strange comment. "I think I understand what you mean. You and I might not have blood left to lose or a heart to still, but as long as we're not in the ground, we're still living. Is that what you meant?"

     Without waiting for a reply from the skeletal captain, she nods towards him while looking at Flint. "I'll sortie with Captain Lima, if he will allow it. A fast approach is vital in order for my approach to work, and it sounds like he might have the best shot at that, if his boasts are true." That last part is spoken with a sly look, like she's playfully daring the undead captain to prove his claims in practice.

Captain Flint has posed:
Gates actually speaks up before Flint, in the wake of Josuke's demonstration. "Never seen anything like it," he says. "Actually not sure I /saw/ it at all..."

     "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Higashikata."

     "You got that name in one try?" Gates asks incredulously.

     "You could, too, if you ever bothered to broaden your horizons," comes Flint's reply, complete with a smirk and a snide, sidelong glance towards his quartermaster. He returns his attention to Josuke. "It seems I wasn't too far off the mark, then." He nods in agreement with Captain Pavo's assessment. "She's right. If your strengths lie in single combat and reconstruction, you'd be equally welcome alongside my physician Doctor Howell, providing urgent repairs, or on the front lines. I'll leave the choice to you and trust that you know your gifts well enough--just be ready to operate under stress." With that said, Flint takes a moment to admire Josuke's handiwork. The table is indeed virtually the same as it was beforehand. "Remarkable."

     Flint then clears his throat. "Now that we have that information, I can begin forming a more nuanced plan." He pauses, thinking in silence with that intense gaze of his focused on a particularly featureless part of the wall. "The escorts are a recent addition," he admits. "Beforehand, the prospect was much more attractive, as the war and its toll on Spain prevented any kind of support for the Urca. With some... recent developments in the colonies," he says with a glance to Gates, "England has had to divert resources away from the front lines, affording Spain the opportunity to bolster its interests in such a way." The way he says it, one would almost suppose he was responsible for the unrest in the colonies. "But," he says, "I believe between all of us, even that can be managed."

     "Miss Mason," he begins. "Your gifts with water will be invaluable for this hunt. I'll need you to be a part of the vanguard, in a somewhat nontraditional role. I shall explain further in a moment."

     "Captains Ultimos and Pavo," he says. "The three of us will make a combined effort to lure the escorts away--the Walrus will fly Spanish colors in sight of the Urca and her escorts. The Coma Navaja will sail into view, raise the black, and fire a few shots across the Walrus' bow. If our efforts to lure both escorts away prove unsuccessful, Captain Pavo will join in the 'attack.'"

     "At this point, Miss Mason and Miss Arcubielle, I'll ask you to employ your particular talents to disable the escorts in whichever way you see fit." He nods, in response to Septette's assertion regarding speed. Either Lima's ship is that fast, or it isn't, but there's no use in taking exception to such claims. Ultimately, it's the undead captain's reputation on the line.

     "Now--who among you is the best marksman? By the time we disable the escorts, the Urca will have a lead on us. I'd like to have someone who can sit in the crow's nest and pick off whoever dares to stand at her helm. My man is good, but I've since learned that Elites are the best the Multiverse has to offer."

     While Flint is discussing strategy, Sombra will discover some historical information from other worlds about the treasure galleon. In most worlds, it's known as a shipwreck, which is either a good sign or a bad sign depending on the reason thereof--which varies from world to world. Its original name is Santisima Trinidad, and conservative estimates put her at 140 guns. She could probably find more, with enough time to research.

     In response to Sombra's question about stowing away, and about spying, Flint advises caution. "Be careful. The man who was responsible for the dispensation of the Urca's schedule is dead--I would wager at the hands of Spanish Colonial Intelligence. The idea of sabotage is meritorious, but the ship is already sailing. If there is some other way I or any of the other captains can get you aboard, just let us know."

Lima Ultimos (945) has posed:
"Aye! I be a human because I say I be human, and I be alive because I say I be alive, and I feel alive!" Probably...not what Septette meant, but Lima Ultimos interprets it that way, as he responds. "I'll accept ye to me crew for this sortie, and show you just how fast me ship be."

Regarding Flint's explanation, Lima Ultimos nods. "Be a good plan, diversion and all! I be a good shot, but I be focusing on sailing. The Coma Navaja, she be getting restless when I not at the wheel!" He laughs, placing a hand down on the table. "Spain be me home...it be nice to see how their ships and navy be after all these years!"

Josuke Higashikata (1119) has posed:
    Josuke nods to Lyria's assessment. "That's what I'm hoping," he notes, as he goes back to where he was sitting. Though he notes a bit too late that he's managed to spill Sombra's drink, and winces. "Oh man... I'm sorry!" He stands again, moving over to her. Then there is the Stand again, and it's trying to remove the stain from her cloak. By 'repairing' the drink itself. Any of the drink that hasn't been consumed should now go back into the cup. He gives her a sheepish look. "Sorry about that." He sounds like he honestly didn't mean harm by it, at least!

    Josuke looks at the displays of the weapons. Not to worry, he can't really understand most of what's up there either, but 'big gun' is fairly universal a concept in worlds that have guns. So his eyes go a bit wide here. Though he doesn't quite know what do say to it. But then Pavo mentions bringing a ship back together! Josuke nods. "I've never fixed something as big as a ship," he admits. "But I bet I could do it. Or at least keep a ship from sinking."

    Then he... gets a strange look on his face when Lima mentions 'miracles'. "Not... really, no..." he says, turning his gaze away from Lima. "I can't bring the dead back to life. It'll repair the body, but they stay dead. Once the soul's gone... that's it." Between the fact that he speaks with such certainty, and the fact that he looks almost sad, he must have some working knowledge of this particular limitation... and it's probably kind of painful.

    Septette's offer to remain far away gets a sheepish look. "No, I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to seem rude," he offers. "I just wasn't expecting it. I'm not going to make any excuses." He bows deeply, politely. "Please forgive my rudeness." Hair of a delinquent, heart of a knight apparently.

    Flint's mention of working under stress gets a nod. "I wouldn't want to risk messing up healing somebody while in a fight -- I can't fix it if that happens. So I'd rather not do that while the fighting's going on," he explains. "But once the fighting's done, if Doctor Howell can keep the injured alive, I'll head straight there, as long as I'm still conscious."

    As for being a marskman? Josuke rubs his chin thoughtfully. "I could try. <Crazy Diamond> can fire off shots at least as fast as, uh... small arms from the nineteen-nineties." The future to this world, maybe? And then something occurs to him! "In fact... I think I might be able to get some more powerful ammunition than regular lead balls..."

Septette Arcubielle (632) has posed:
     Septette taps her chin thoughtfully, producing a distinct metallic clink like the initial chime of a tuning fork. "Ships of this era have minimal defenses against attacks from directly above or directly below, correct? Given that knowledge, I believe I have a few ideas. Captain Ultimo, you said that your ship can fly, correct? If possible, I would appreciate a vertical insertion. It's entirely likely I will punch through all decks of the escort given sufficient height, but I have my own plans for what to do after that."

     Josuke earns a warm smile and a slight inclination of the head, like a microscopic bow. "Don't worry about it, little one. I ought to be apologizing for startling you in that case, no? In any case, be at ease." Arcubielle's eyes twinkle with a surprisingly authentic kind of humanity- if she's merely emulating human affect, she's one heck of an actor.

Sombra has posed:
    The hacker seems like she's entirely focused on her research now as the other speak, though she does glance up at the Stand when it 'fixes' her drink. Well, there her cloak is clean again. "Well, that's something you don't see every day," she says, then nods in return to Josuke. All's forgiven, kid. Right now Sombra has more research that needs to be done. Historical info should be a good start, and perhaps she can make some digital file for everybody involved in this mission. It certainly won't hurt if everybody's prepared and knows just what the ship itself is capable of.

    Now the warning about stowing away, but mostly the fact that the ship has already set sail, that makes the latina look back at Flint, eyes slightly narrowed. "Well, if you can't get me onto the ship," she begins, then unclips a translocator from her belt, holding it up for all to see. "Is there a way that any of you can get /this/ onto the ship?" she inquires, looking around at the others. The Flotilla captains and Septette should at least know what the thing is by now.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason pauses at Crazy DIamond and thinks about it it's almost like being a summoner on her world, almost same kinds of idea but he's challenign something other than her world's Gods from the looks of things.

"I'm eager for this job too should be a pretty good score if we can pull this off."

She gerins and she ponders for amoment, she looks to Captain Flynn and nods. She sees where Flint is going. She looks to Josuke for amoment smirling a bit then turns her attention back to the planning.

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    "Hmmmm..." Pavo thinks aloud. "Could refit a ship of ours with a nice wood facade, ought'a look convincing from a distance, just long enough to keep in range. Could be part of the attackers, aye, I know the way a pirate sails no matter what seashe be sailin'." She then considers the issue of Sombra. "Hmmm...Too strong an electromagnetic field might burn that little thing right out, lass. Would be useless as a railgun payload. Now, what if yer ghost friend over there could fire that? Would be quite a use of that power."

    She then turns to him, planting her hands on her waist. "Speakin' of it, bet me crew could rig some chemical explosive rounds for ye. Long as ye didn't jostle 'em much... Without needs for propellant, without needs for casing to survive an explosive firing, without electromagnetism frying their insides... Ye could turn that into a real artillery strike, slow 'em down enough for us to catch up?" She gives a lot of thought to the idea. "Aye, would be quite a better arrangement. Us the craftsmen, ye the marksman, aye?"

    "The rest of us, we be boardin' the old fashioned way if anything. Close in hard, grappling hooks ready. I've some grand hooks on the menu for manufacture, ought to give us an edge they don't expect. Can rig 'em to every boat. Maybe even a shorter-range Breach Port launcher or two, but we can barely spare the teleporter cores. Could get us in if we get enough time."

Captain Flint has posed:
"Very good," says Flint in response to Josuke. The boy's willing to try, despite not having done it before. It's not a bad thing by any means--though this will be a challenging first endeavor. "I'll have one of my men alongside you as a spotter--you'll be able to cover each other that way."

     Flint eyes the translocator. "It could be done," he says, as much to Pavo as to Sombra. "With the right approach and windage, I could make the shot and have this on their deck, depending on the weight of the device. The main issue would be getting a cannon to the bow quickly and covertly enough. Perhaps it would be more prudent to have Mr. Higashikata make the attempt."

     Flint lets his gaze wander to Pavo, stroking his goatee in thought. "Captain Pavo, I'd like to discuss the matter of upgrades--and cost--with you soon. Meet me in town at your convenience and I'll show you the Walrus. That way you can both have an idea of what you'll be working with, and what to do as far as this disguise of yours." With that, Flint takes a seat. Things are beginning to come together, and this group seems a formidable, if unusual bunch.

     "Of course--there is also the matter of payment," says Gates as Flint takes a seat. "We figured that you lot would have more... expensive tastes than most, so here's our offer. A share for each of you, a share for your men if you've a ship," says the stocky fellow with a nod to Pavo and Lima. "/Plus/ an independent fund to cover injuries and casualties in the event that Mr... Higa..." He rubs the back of his neck. "In the event our boy Josuke and/or Doc Howell can't quite put ya back together. That way you aren't paying out of your share for acts of God and such. Then, whatever goes unused from that injury fund'll be divvied up solely between you lot and added to your shares."

     "For your convenience," adds Flint, "We took the liberty of speaking with a consultant from a more modern Earth. Mr. Gates..."

     Hal distributes little fliers to each participant, detailing their shares, how much a 'share' is, and more importantly, the value of those shares in several modern-day currencies. Flint and his men do get a larger share, but no one is going to walk away poor. Even the conservative estimates are absolutely obscene.

     It almost sounds too good to be true...

Septette Arcubielle (632) has posed:
     Septette accepts the flier graciously, skims it in a tiny fraction of a second, and then hands it back to Gates with an unreadable expression. She crosses her arms behind her back and entwines her fingers (accompanied by a noise unnervingly similar to scissors closing), then shakes her head with an earnest look on her face.

     "I am glad to participate in the mission, but would rather not accept my share. Please distribute it evenly among the others."

     Wait, what?

     "The parts needed to maintain me are exorbitantly difficult to acquire. If I sustain any damage at all, I will represent a disproportionate strain on the medical fund," she explains. "In addition to that, I have little need for such resources myself. I still have many reasons for wishing to participate in this mission, but they would be better served by doing it pro bono- aside from accepting the medical fund apportionment."

     "Please understand that I am not asking for favors in return for my aid, either," she concludes, before giving a shallow bow and turning towards the door. "Thank you for understanding. I hope that my refusal to accept compensation does not lessen the trust you feel you can place in me. And good day, Captain Flint."