The Ruinous Captain silently puffed his cigar as he listened to the Master, his demeanour beneath the mask as cold and indifferent as the frozen north, though he did cast a glance at the one-eyed gentleman who cast his lot in with Gideon's. More used to formalities than he was, yet carrying a grim enough demeanor to indicate that he'd seen things that would make lesser men tremble, probably a soldier or formerly. This pleased Gideon, he'd enlisted his fair share of veterans on several voyages, many came to Wolfstack to drown the horrors of campaigns in the same way many Zailors did for their more unfortunate voyages, and often many found a second calling as officers or crew under private Captains if their pensions proved inadequate or they grew tired of sitting in London. Many had seen Hell after all, quite literally, ones who had come back relatively sane and mostly whole were a commodity for people like Gideon.

But the [i]Jackdaw[/i] was out of commission for the time being, and Gideon simply kept his thoughts to himself as first the former soldier, then Mr. Spices himself spoke inbetween partaking in his hookah and got to the meat of the situation. He took mild amusement from how their talk had made some of the more elevated persons in their gathering nervous of the Master's reaction, but he knew better than to let that show on his face.

They wanted a certain person found who was formerly their agent. Obviously the agent was of such character that for whatever reason the Masters couldn't just use their influence on the Constables or any of the handful of private investigators known in London to find them, then again maybe they simply hadn't bothered and wanted to make an amusing game out of this whole business? Such behaviour wasn't above the Masters, what with people guessing at their schemes.

Regardless, now the situation was a bit more clear. This wouldn't be the first person Gideon had to track down, he'd done similar jobs for The Cheery Man and his boys or the Devils of the Brass Embassy, the difference now would be that he'd actually technically be doing it on the side of the law rather than to shake down people for their material goods or their more immaterial souls that they thought they could cheat their creditors out of. Plus, the favour of a Master or two can go a long way regardless of one's standing, if they did the task to their satisfaction, of course. 

His cigar burned as he took a fresh drag out of it and tapped some of the ash into a convenient ashtray, he gave a slight nod, almost to himself moreso than the Master or anyone else gathered around. He'd have to get to know many of the others, he supposed, if they truly were all to work together. He foresaw that as a . . . interesting experience. But no matter, he'd cross those bridges when he came to them.

"Alright then, one of the more clear statements I've heard all night."

He knew full well the irony of such a notion, given the situation, but he couldn't deny it.

"Consider me interested, Master."