The Journey of the St. Marie
You can burn the land and boil the sea,
But you can't rake the sky from me.
-Joss Whedon "Firefly Theme"
Welcome aboard the St. Marie, the ship of choice for this group of...treasure hunters. We've got plenty of adventure in store for our passengers, so long as they're willing lend a hand from time to time. That, and they don't sell us out to the royal navy. And I mean DON'T sell us out. We've had enough scuffles with them to last a lifetime. They seem to have termed us as pirates. A bit excessive if you ask me, since we only raid ships if our supplies are running low without a town in sight. But enough of that. We're on the hunt for some treasure great, so join us on this ride. It'll be an interesting trip, should our luck hold true.
This is a Steampunk/Dieselpunk/Post-Apocalypse/Adventure/Comedy/Airships RP
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Samuel stood on the observation deck, a large room at the front of the St. Marie that was surrounded by a wall of thick tempered glass, allowing for an unrestricted view of much of the landscape before the airship. A gorgeous view of the mountains to the south of Germany. The sunlight played off their snowy caps to create a brilliant display of stunning light. Samuel smiled broadly as he enjoyed the view, one of the perks of having both the navigation and piloting station moved to the observation deck. He made sure that he put them on an elevating platform so Icarus could fly without risking someone knocking into her and causing a catastrophe. His smile didn't fade as he turned to a contraption before him but behind where Icarus sat as she piloted the St. Marie. The device was a large mess of moving gears, levers, pumps, and springs beneath a flat surface covered in a map of their current position. As the airship flew on, the map scrolled in order to keep a small model of the St. Marie in the center. It was a map that constantly updated itself for accuracy. Samuel chuckled as he made a few measurements and calculated something mentally. "Icarus, adjust course by two points to the north or else we're liable to miss Berlin by a large enough margin that we'll end up skirting the Black Forest. I'd rather not deal with the plants there. Last I heard, they're still hungry." His voice was layered with infectious good humor, as it often was.