STEAM LONDON: Realms of Aether Game Thread

[Stella Gaslight]

"Thank you for the complement. Sigmund correct?  My father taught me almost all he knew before he had to retire from the sky."  Helena sized him up and smiled in a friendly way.  "Well I need to make sure none of the added cannons interfere with the Interdemenstional Aetherical matter moving mechanism.  After all we don't want to have to choose between a quick escape and the chance to defend ourselves."  She had the confidence of a born pilot.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Sigmund watched her walk off, fascinated by how easily these people seemed to accept him despite his Lineage. If only his father could see how kind the people of this world were. immediately, he felt terribly useless as everyone seemed to have gone off to do a job and he was left standing on the deck like an idiot, and Helena's explainations of her next task only made him feel dimmer. He was just a soldier, and not much else...but here he was, amid constructs and engineers, and the only knowledge he posessed was how to work, maintain, and clean assigned weaponry. He remembered what Patrick had told the students of his school that claimed they were beyond teaching.
What was it that you did when you had no knowledge?
You learned.

Inhaling deeply, he headed below the deck, wishing he had brought a notebook with him, as many of Mister O'Landry's students did.
"Miss Helena, are you in need of any assistance?" He asked as he looked over each gun, the glimmering steel tubes seemed a far cry from the archaic machinery he was used to which was naught but gunpowder-fueled shell-lobbers.

[Stella Gaslight]

Helena was trying to juggle three monitors and keep an eye on the temperature gauge of the cannons. "Yes please." She said nearly dropping the aetheric wavelength tester.   "If you could just hit the little blue button and tell me when this gauge swings in to the green section it would be lovely.  But don't press the large orange button marked discharge or you will most likely light the hanger on fire."  She said this in a deadpan tone but with a smile on her face so he wasn't sure if she was kidding or not.

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss followed his nose to the observation lounge; literally, as it happened, there being a strong, heavenly aroma of tea and coffee in the air. He walked in, made his excuses, and then asked, "Miss Emma, would it be possible to contact Patrick from here? A bit of a situation's arisen involving a family member, just come over from America to escape the smallpox, and her daughter's apparently applying to Patrick's school tomorrow; or at least interviewing for it, at any rate." Dreyfuss hated to just use othe rpeople's equipment without asking first; doing otherwise always mad ehim feel somewhat guilty.

[Stella Gaslight]

Emma thought about it for a moment. "I have a a prototype document sender in Patrick's office actually.  It might be a little cantankerous but it should work."  She led him to the strange typewriterish thingamajig with a speaking horn attached to it.  "All you have to do is select where you want the document to go with this dial here and the type your message the horn sends the unique tones out to an automatic typewriter that prints it out.  I think ever office in the world will want as soon as figure out how to make them lest prone to breakdown."

[T.Taylor the Third]

Trip was lounging against the wall Grining as he saw his invention be assembled over the skin of  the ship.he soon pushed off from the wall and went to gather his supplies

"lets se......My teleporter...ah...himm in cant carry my favorit on my back waring it......welll i guess ill just have to carry it the old fashioned way.." he mumbled to himself as he set about preperations..."sword, gun, other gun, other gun, tools, teleporter, other gun......."

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss thanked her profusely, and then proceeded to try and use the machine, extending the whitefire just a bare little tad, the way Patrick had shown him just after the kidnapping assignment. HE selected the name of Patrick's school, typed in his message:

Patrick:
Please pardon thi sinterruption of your busy day. I have a couple of issues to bring to your attention,; the first is teh more current, as it were.

My Foster Sister, Rosita Litton-Van Huiyck, has come to London with her daughter, Esmeralda (aged 16, I believe), in tow, apparently to escape the smallpox in America. I had not realized that it reached as far as Old Franklin in the R of T, where she once resided with her husband, Abraham Isambard Van Huiyck, an Artillery Engineer of some local reknown. (Now deceased).

Rosita apparently ran into Captain Ishmael, (whom as you know pilots the St. Elmo for me and serves as First Officer) apparently while she was waiting at Whitehall for them to contact me. You know how slow their office people can be.

In any case, she wants me to put in a good word for Esmeralda. I knew that she was a dab hand with a hammer and anvil, but as for Technomantic ability, I have not worked closely enough with her to observe any such. It would not surprise me, however, since Diamond Jack, her father (and my foster father, a blacksnith and locally-famous wagonwright), was slightly famous for his own abilities in that area.

Oh... A word of warning about Esmeralda; she is very independent, and has been known to "escape" from boarding schools when things become a bit too intense for her. Also, although I have not heard of such, I would not be surprised if she knew how to throw fire already; in any case I do know for a fact that she knows how to ride, fight with a cutlass, and barehanded, and shoot with both revolver and Sharps Rifle.

Her adventurousness concerns me just now since, as I am sure you are already aware, Miss Emma has found George and is now planning an expedition to redeem him. I would not put it past Esmeralda to try an escape for the purpose of joining me for a bit of "adventure, " whichof course I can sympatize with, but what if she were injured, or killed? Surely you see my position and my worry. Just a  word to the wise, as the saying goes.
----------------

TEh other matter, Patrick, concerns myself. I have said my abilities are negligible, and you have said it wasn't so, but that's not what I'm asking about. You probably already know or at least have had an inkling of teh fact that i have had "visitations" from various individual entities; is such a thing normal for persons who have the Whitefire ability, or am simply going "Barking Mad," as the saying goes?

I apologize for not bringing this to your or someone's attention before now.

With thanks and Apologies,

Your Servant and Friend,

Jaisen Santiago Dreyfuss

He felt that it had already worked, and sent the meassage, apparently as he typed it, ther ebeing no "send" key. he hit the carriage return once or twice anyway, just in case.

Thanks, Miss Emma. now, what kinds of equipment shoul d we take? do you think the constellations will be different? It might be necessary to extrapolate an emphemeris for navigational purposes...

[Stella Gaslight]

"That was one of the things I am very glad I tested when Cain went through. From all the readings I was able to get most of the forces there work the same as they do here but you are right the sky may be different.  We should never be out of visual contact and I should be able to outfit you with an aetheric wavelength tester that we should be able to use to track George, But I have no way of knowing if they will function there."  She sighed.  "I really should run more tests but I am afraid that George is out here suffering with no one to help him."

[ShredsnPatches]

Jen wrapped her arm around Patrick's waist, smiling up at him.

"You're right... I'll go for a rest," she said.

Patrick looked at her barely concealing worry. Jen was pushing herself too hard again, anxious for a breakthrough in her research. As they left her lab, Jen locked the door behind them.

[Nigel Wetherby]

As jen Locked the door, the document machine let out a loud cranking sound that would usually have been heard. And had it not been for the door, he would have promtly read it and replied, however he had previous engagements with miss Jen.

Sigmund kept a watchful eye on the gauge, and his hand over the button which he was assured would not burn the entire ship down. When the needle hit green, he inhaled deeply and pressed down on the button, hoping to god that nothing exploded or burst or sent deadly shrapnel everywhere.

Cain had finished giving everyone their assignments and quickly headed to Angel's side, unsure if she needed assistance, but perfectly willing to assist her to any extent. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and placed an innocent peck on her cheeks. "Angel, remember that time you drew the picture of me with cat-ears?"

[Stella Gaslight]

The cannon hummed gently and then slowly powered down.  Sigmund could feel the thrum of power vibrating his hands, whenever these things fired it must be potent. "Thanks." Helena said furiously scribbling away.  "You should see them when they go off, they make a bzzap.  Miss Lighton Is trying to make food cookers from a modified version of the design but so far it only has one setting, charcoal."

"Yup." Angel giggled and then put her hands up like dog ears. "Woof Woof."

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Well, Charcoal has all manner of uses in my line of work." He said with a confident grin, though within his mind he was calling himself a moron for steering the conversation into the way of burnt carbon-based materials.
"Has she considered using the aetheric energy to heat up spome sort of conductor, like metal?" His mind violently grasped at what little knowledge he had at experimental weaponry.

Patrick emerged from his chambers the next morning, his lean muscular torso exposed as he walked casually to the document machine, his pants loosely hanging from his waist as he had forgotten to put on his belt. He quickly read over the document and sent a reply.

Dear Dreyfuss,

Thank you for telling me about miss Esmerelda, I look foreward to meeting this young woman, as she sounds to be the perfect addition to our little academic family. Her independant nature shall be no problem here, as we pride ourselves in our lenience balanced perfectly with our disciplinary measures.

As for your visions, those touched by technomancy are touched by a force older than man, what you are witnessing may be recurred memories of bright ones or makers, those who posessed the white fire before you. I am entirely sure it is nothing to worry about, though I would suggest you document your visions and send them to me post-haste.

sincerely,

Professer Patrick O'Landry

"I got you something to help keep you occupied on the trip so you aren't completely bored out of your head" Cain said with a grin, reaching into his satchel and producing a thick stack of white paper and a wooden case. "It's an art kit, so you can work on your drawings! You're very good, and I'd love to see more, i think the whole crew might." He placed a kiss on her forehead.

[MWBailey]

"Well, I have one of those newfangled Office Datascopes on board the Elmo, its invaluable for plotting courses quickly and such; I believe there's an algorithm for plotting star positions, which should be applicable to making ephemeri from just the differences of two or three sightings ofd a single star or group of stars. I'll have to see about that sometime today or tomorrow. they planned onward, late into the evening, and it was the wee hours before they and the others went to bed, the visitors billetting with Emma and Trip, Dreyfuss collecting the returned message at a time when other people would be about ready to get up.

"Document your visions..." Dreyfuss accepted that with possibly more aplomb than he would have before he came to London. It would require at least a rudimentary admission, and an explanation, of his motivations to protect his younger fellow crewmembers. Oh, well, if that's what it takes... he grumbled to himself, as he stumbled off to bed, resolving to comply when he was less comatose...

[Stella Gaslight]

Angel drew kitty Cain sharing a dog house with puppy Angel, a spider in the corner was mama.  Emma lady and Trip were a bees and the lab was their hive, Dreyfuss was a big bear and Irene was his cub, Helena was a gardener in a big floppy hat and Sigmund was a butterfly with vivid purple wings. When Cain asked her why Sigmund was a butterfly she simply said.  "He is going to change things."  And smiled.

Sigmund himself was nearly run over as he stood in the hall and watched the continuing construction.  "I am sorry."  Helena said picking herself up from the floor.  "The night crew has a problem and Emma has been working close to non stop for the last few days and I was hoping to handle the problem so she can get some sleep."

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss sat at the swivel table in his cabin, typing up a brief facsimile of his visions and visitations for Patrick's perusal. He'd had just giotten up, after checking his watch and feeling intensely guilty about being asleep at half-past noon!?

Dear Patrick, here, as per your request, is a brief description of my visions and visitations. Mostlky thelatter, I don't usually just sit passively through such things. it isn't in my nature, I suppose.

He stopped for a moment, trying to collect his recollections. Ah, yes, the Ginger Man first, he thought.

The first that I recall was at the Tinker's Row Airship dock, on the morning that I met Elisha and your selves and that Arbiter. I had walked all of the way to the dock in order to present myself to Captain Hudson, with Elisha's Recommendation, for an officer's position on board the Boheme.

When I entered teh dock area, I was convinced by her appearance and the lack of flags or pennants that the Boheme was, in fact, the ship that had downed the Mad Anthony all those years ago (the resemblance was rather striking). I had crounched down and moved to the side of the passageway from the street outside to allow a troupe of stevedores to come through with a rather huge load of crates. I then noticed a little guard house off to the left of the doorway, with a brand-new flagpole, and went over to inquire about the Boheme, and what her favour was like in these parts.

When I did so, a little, ginger-headed man sat in the place in front of the window, inside of the hut, and he said that that was the boheme over  there, behind me. he then produced a derringer, which he leveled at me, and told me to stay where I was, while he came out of the hut. He asked why I had been crouching "over there," alfway acrossnd proceeded to say that "we of Tinkers Row are very proud of them that belong to the Boheme, and we'd not take it kindly if they came to harm." he then asked who I was, and then he softened rightup, and recounted how a female relative of his had been saved by me from a rape gang in the back streets of Indianola, Texas, and how she was an officer on a Marauder ship. All of that did actually happen; it was right after the inquest into the downing of teh Mad Anthony started that it occurred. Well, he finally let me go, promising to put up the "family visiter flag" an honor that is not often bestowed on a visiting airman. I went down across the turf of the landing field, and I met the capn about halfway, and turned around to take another look, and lo and behiold, neither he, nor his hut, nor even the stevedores were anywhere in evidence! The flag pole was there, but it obviously hadnyt been used in years, since the lanyard lay all over the ground beside it!

Dreyfuss also recounted the incident of the chinese sage, with the little boy playing Boheme-coimes-to the-dock, complete with a lead version of Elisha, and then the advice about a protector who fails to protect consoling himself that the child was protected enough that they got in to the bad situation where protection failed; then, the disappearance of the sage, the entire bazaar where the boy played, and the finding of the "gray-templed old soldier with a blunderbuss" lead figure, mentioning that he still had the fellow somewhere on board the St. Elmo, an the cold breeze sighing through the mulberry bushes.

"Well, if that all doesn't convince Patrick I'm totally tonkers, I don't know what will," he said aloud, and then pressed the "send" key oin his own version of teh message teletyper-thingy using a little whitefire to make sure it sent the message to the right place. A little while later, he heard the printing assembly clacketing merrily away to itself, and wondered how Esme was getting by this evening...

[Nigel Wetherby]

"What seems to be the problem? Is something wrong with the ship?"  Sigmund attempted to scope out what could have the crew so agitated. "Is it my prescence? I understand quite a few people fear my..ahem...race" He said, looking to his eerily pale skin and the reflection of his yellow pupil-less eyes in the reflective surface of one of the portholes

Cain wondered what Angel meant by "change things." He knew he should have been used to Angel's cryptic soothsayings, but he never in any way was.

Patrick began to read over the memo of dreyfuss, pondering the reasons he had seen this particular vision.
Dear mister Dreyfuss,

Perhaps what you are seeing is in fact what another version of yourself has seen in some other aetheric plane? I am very aware of Emma's designs for a pan-aetheric device, perhaps her craft is creating disturbances which result in your visions. Though I must say, the subject matter of these visions is terribly interesting.

[ShredsnPatches]

Jen leapt out of bed with a strangled cry, pounding down the corridor of the school in her nightgown and robe. Reaching her laboratory, she fired up the gas burner and opened the cabinet of chemicals. Pulling down bottle after bottle, she mixed and compounded madly, muttering to herself as she did.

A few students, racing to get homework assignments finished before breakfast, sped up as they passed her lab - when Mrs. O'Landry was in one of her moods, it usually resulted in extra work for some hapless pair of hands.

Finally, Jen put her slides down and tidied away her equipment, making careful notes of the materials and proportions used. She had a good feeling about this batch of samples.

[Stella Gaslight]

"It is not you, I promise.  As for fear I must admit I was a bit worried at first but if both Mr. O'Landrey and Angel vouch for you than I have nothing to worry about.  I would never hold someones lineage against them, after all both my parents were pirates and so was I for a while. The problem is someone had their installation diagram upside down and now half of the couplings are installed the wrong way around.  It is nothing too major but they are all worried we are going to miss the launch window and disappoint Emma.  They all look up to her and some of the apprentices even site her as their hero and the reason they are enthralled with science."  Helena remembered the envious glances she would sometimes get at the commissary when making sure Emma ate something.  She had a feeling if they knew how hard she really had to work they would leave her be.

Angel was sleeping, sprawled all over Cain like a child in the rooms Emma had made just for them.  She had fallen asleep while she was drawing a story about the animals that lived in a happy garden.  She snuggled against him smiling in her sleep, in her dreams the garden was huge with each flower almost as big as a planet and one single purple butterfly moving from bloom to bloom.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Sigmund watched with fascination as the crew worked with vigor at all attempts to fix the machine. He approached the chaotic scene as ideas and hypothesis flew through the air like bullets in a gunfight as Sigmund approached the area of the problem.
"Why don't they just loosen the couplings, rotate them part way, and seal the loose sections that would be left with soldered metal?" He asked.
There was a silence amid the crew for a moment. The answer was so simple, none had thought of it.

Cain wrapped his arms around Angel as she slept, sharing her dream of the garden of the universe. The purple butterfly touching each flower and setting it aglow.

[Stella Gaslight]

Helena just nodded with a grin.  "Well you heard the man, lets get to work. If we put our backs in to it we may just get this done before dawn."  There was a muted roar and they all got to work at once.  "Can you man a torch with me?  I was going to take the ones at the top." She said grabbing a portable torch and strapping a patented Lightion\Landrey climbing rig to her back.  The spidery legs unfolded with the touch of a button waiting to help her safely climb the ship.

The light that came from the flowers was full of goodness and song that filled the sleepers with joy.  The buttery moved on quietly drifting along, Angel and Cain rode on it's wings in to clouds of wonderful smells and warm sunbeams.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Sigmund strapped the odd device to his back, taking a rather surprised leap as the legs of the device sprung from their case, the glistening metal legs poking at the air as they skittered along the side of the ship. He held the torch firmly in his hands as if it were an air tank and he was in the marianas trench.
As he removed the plate along with Helena, he prepared the torch, going to work with all the precision and efficiency of a soldier.

As the songs emerged from each flower, they seemed to wrap around eachother, intertwining and harmonizing, seperate but harmonious like the voices of those in a chorus. However, something happened.
One by one, the flowers began to blacken as insects crawled onto the stalks and blackened their petals.

[Stella Gaslight]

They communicated well without the need for words. Helena found herself telling him all about how she met Emma.  "When The Timothea crashed I thought we wouldn't make it out alive but somehow we survived.  We were  stuck in London with no money but John Lewastine hired me and helped us get back on our feet.  Accountancy was a good paying job but flying was always my passion.  when he told me he found me a job here I jumped at the chance. But enough about me how did you meet Patrick if you don't mind me asking."

The butterfly saw this and tried to fight off the insects but while pretty it had no defense against the insects and was soon overwhelmed. The world went black and Angel woke with a frown on her face.  "Poor butterfly." She whispered

[Nigel Wetherby]

"I was in a...seedy military group that was used to supressing technological advancement. During a mission i was terribly wounded, when I came to, mister O'Landry had taken me in. I owed them my life, so I went into service for them. It's not as harrowing, but I like my story, it's a good story." He soldered the newly fixed implement, a proud smirk at his handiwork. Though he did his best to keep distanced from the flame given his nature.

Cain quickly sat up, his heart pounding. "We should have saved it..." He muttered to himself.

[Stella Gaslight]

Helena moved along the skin of the airship with an easy grace that came from lots of practice and having next to no fear of heights. "I am sorry for nearly running you over and then pulling you in to work Sigmund . I hope it won't leave you too tired in the morning.  I must admit I am very excited to take this journey."

Angel hugged Cain.  "Maybe it was a before dream, maybe we can still save it." She hoped that was right she didn't want the butterfly to die like the bee.

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Yeah, I'm rather excited myself" He said as he helped re-attach the skin of the airship.
"I've spent all my life fighting for a cause I never beleived in, protecting an ideal I secretly despised, maybe while I'm out there...I can find something worth fighting for."
He found himself gazing off into the distance. "Er...I'm sorry, i've been babbling."

Cain nodded, pondering what the dream could have meant, and coupled it with Angel's drawings. "I think we should watch out for Sigmund..."