The New World

[The Corsair]

The black-haired youth clutched his small suitcase and ticket as he stood in the boarding line at Bristol harbour. If one could see his boarding pass, they would discover his name was Falko Hendrick Hoogenboome. He wore an old oak-brown coat and severely worn work trousers that may have once been brown but were so stained by old oil that they had adopted a murky grey-black colour.

The line shuffled forward

His shoes were in no better shape. They had the same oil-stained colour as his pants and were scuffed and worn everywhere, though surprisingly no holes had been made.

The line shuffled forward

The boat waiting at the dock was the last to ever take people like him to the United States of America. He had chosen the right boat. Nobody could chase him.

The line shuffled forward

The sky of steel left no warmth to be found in the landscape. The odd steam hiss and awkward sound of seagulls tossed in the wind gave the entire scene a discordant symphony as a musical backdrop. The slap of water against the constructed things of the harbour set a difficult tempo for the other 'instruments' to follow.

The line shuffled forward

[Man of Steam]

The young man waited in line, his rucksack slung over his back. He was tall for his age, and of slim build, his long brown hair pulled back under a cap. He wore a black pea coat that was missing a button, black pants held up by a worn leather belt, and a pair of spats, that while originally white, had faded to a murky grey.
His rucksack contained all of his worldly possessions, namely, a compass, a set of jade dice from his father,a purse with what little money he had left, and a leather journal so he could chronicle his adventure. He stood in a line that seemed to stretch forever. In front of him stood a black haired man holding a suitcase and clutching his ticket.
"I wonder who he is, what he wants to do" Alexandre thought to himself.
Seeing the line move, he stepped forward, and readied his ticket.
Looking back to the land he was about to leave behind, he made a promise to himself. "The world will know the name Alexandre Ashlock".

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

A man in a long, tattered coat, one hand pushing a faded bowler onto his head, the other clutching a suitcase that appeared to have pieces of clothes sticking out from a hurried closing. He eyed the line with disapproval and caught sight of two decent looking young men, only a little younger than himself. He made a show of waving to them and calling in some foreign language, before slipping in between them.

"Don't mind if I drop in?." he whispered, with a wink, his voice having only a mild accent, vaguely continental. He stroked a small goatee idly. "So, all off to America! Don't look so glum, my friend. This is a good day! A good day to leave this gray port. Oh, dear, where are my manners - I am Vincenc, but you can just call me Cenek, that will do."

[The Sammy]

The greying head shook and the man stepped out of line slightly. his hand fell on the shoulder of the youth who'd tried to barge in a few paces ahead of him.
"My good sir," his whispered to him, "Cut in by all means, but if I miss this boat because you were ahead of me I will be displeased.". With that he gently manoeuvred the younger man behind him, silencing the glare of the person who was next in line with a glance. The greying head was attached to a fairly well dressed body, and he would quite like to enjoy any sign of status it gave before it became as dishevelled and tattered as he was. The last of his money was invested in the ticket he was holding for the boat, and the small notebook he had bought months ago to scribble research in.

[Rosalia]

A young woman stumbled along her way, trying her best not to be recognized. Her father had probably reported her already, mostly likely because she had stolen a little bit of money as well as his old revolver. She clutched to her boarding pass that she bought with what little money she had saved up herself. Beside the pistol, it was the most expensive thing she had on her person. She had worn her oldest clothes and only brought along things that wouldn't bring attention to herself.

She looked up to see where she was, pushing a strand of her auburn hair out of her eyes. In her wonder and amazement, she ran backwards into the two men.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!"

[Man of Steam]

"Hello Mr. Cenek, pleasure to meet you, the names Alexandre, but you can call me Alex" . Alex regarded the new man with interest, though he couldn't help but grin at his appearance.
"You are mistaken in one aspect though, it is not glumness that I feel, I just wanted to see the city one last time.."
He was about to finish when a women about his age bumped into him.
He heard her say "Oh! I'm so sorry!"
"You all right there miss?" he asked, a grin on his face.

[Mnemoria]

Mnemoria looked down at his boarding pass, reminding himself he was now Jacob Matthews.
After all Matthews wouldn't be needing the passage he'd paid for.
He pulled his black coachman's overcoat more closely round him, feeling a chill that wasn't really there and looked at the slow moving queue.
He saw the auburn haired lass collide with the two men, exchange words, though he was too far away to make out what was said.
Picked up his carpet bag and joined the queue behind them. 

[The Sammy]

Julius sighed as the young lady was set on her feet, wondering why everyone seemed to be running around. The only reason he could picture someone running were if they headed away from the misery that this city caused to all but the wealthiest of inhabitants. He glanced about at the people in the queue, noting a few interesting faces and prominent features but for the most part people were simply... people.
Suddenly he noticed a piece of paper at the young girls feet, and felt the precursory tickle of wind. He leapt forward and grabbed it, just as it was about to flutter off and handed it back to her.
"Miss, you might want to hold this a little tighter. If they grew from the air it would be a miracle, unfortunately they do not. It seems we are destined for the same shore, so I feel it is fair to introduce myself. I am Julius Rowe."

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Cenek smiled and grinned at Julius, pacifying temporarily the people behind them by getting across that "he was with them".

He grinned further as he saw Mr. Rowe retrieve the paper currency for the lady. "Ah, such dignity, so rarely seen these days!" he gushes, pleased. Cenek seemed to be constantly brimming with energy, a little out of place in the forced drudgery of the line.

"So? Why are you all heading off to the promised land? I myself, have heard, the steam engine business is taking off in America - literally! Airships will continue to be a big business, I promise you all. Perhaps, one day, you will see my name in the newspapers there, among the rich and famed."

Of course, he had in his pack only clothes, some money technically not his, his notebook and other basics. And he had no plans or contacts in America. But a dream - that was the most valuable thing he carried with him.

[Rosalia]

"I'm sorry," she laughed, "I'm Rosie Kaylock. I'm fine, just a little bewildered."

She gathered her things, clutching tightly to her boarding pass, "I'm glad I'll have someone to accompany me. I was afraid I would be alone."

Rosie looked at the three men surrounding her. Her nature told her to trust them, and she had no reason not to, but she was a young woman travelling alone. She stood there awkwardly, hoping someone else would strike up conversation. She had never been one to talk first. It was not socially acceptable for a woman to speak without being spoken to in her circles.

[Alexis Voltaire]

Luke Marshall followed the slow creep of the line forward toward the boat, carrying a large, heavy brown suitcase in one hand. He had a worried, slightly anxious look as if he wasn't quite sure of what he was doing, but there was also a shadow of something cat-like about him, confident and aloof as he looked out over the chilly docks.

A faded cap was pulled low over his short blond hair, and though the rest of his clothes looked slightly out of place for a worker, they showed enough signs of wear to blend in. The collar of his heavy tan jacket didn't quite conceal the thin white scars running vertically just below the left side of his jaw, clawmarks that had been light but were too widely spaced for anything but a very large animal to have made them.

A voice stirred within his mind, one that some part of him wanted to insist wasn't real. It still wasn't a voice he had come to trust, but he had learned to pay it close attention. You will do fine, Sher Bay-ta, if you will keep in mind that you are not free, yet. He silently agreed, and lowered his gaze to the slow-moving line in front of him.

Luke didn't think his father would send anyone to look for him here, not at first anyway. But there was always a slight chance that someone working for his father might recognize him. It wouldn't stop him from leaving but it could make it much more difficult for him to start over in America once he got there.

He looked up again as a man who introduced himself as Cenek tried to slip into the line several places ahead of him. He listened with interest to the talk and introductions that followed, wondering as he took in their various appearances what might have brought them here. Though most here no doubt had legitimate reasons and means for making the trip to America, he doubted that he was the only one here who was running from something.

[Rosalia]

"Well Mr. Cenek, I'm going because I need a new start. Things aren't going peachy here, I don't like the restrictions, I need to leave. I'm going to become an independent woman." She stated proudly.

[The Sammy]

"Well I'm looking for something purely different to life here. Something interesting enough to capture my ageing mind a little perhaps?" he chuckled to himself. There was a pause and he glanced over his shoulder at a man with blonde hair, a suitcase and a cap on who seemed to be watching them.
"Hello sir, are you okay?"

[Man of Steam]

"Hello Madame Kaylock, my name is Alexandre, Alex for short, you seem to already have met monsignor Cenek,  and ahh...I'm afraid I don't quite know who you are my good fellow." He said this last bit directed at Julius, whom Alex thought looked nice fellow, if a little distant.

Turning back to Rosie, he asked with a grin, "Do you require any help with your things madame? I can safely say none of us here would want anyone to miss this fine voyage."

[Rosalia]

"I'm fine, I don't have much," She lied as she dropped her bag. She giggled sheepishly.

[Arx Nimbus]

Arx adjusted his dirty brown cap turned his face away as the guards rushed down the street. Making sure they were gone, he ducked out from the alleyway in which he hid.
A ship stood before him. A long line was slowly shuffling up the ramp as the passengers tickets were checked.
Arx made his way over to the queue, trying not to be noticed. A general buzz of conversation filled the air.
Slipping his hand into a man's coat pocket he fished out a ticket. Pocketing that he continued to blend with the small crowd. Happening upon a small circle of people he stepped into a space and looked over his shoulder at the large man checking all of his coat pockets frantically. Arx smiled to himself and tried to strike up natural conversation as a ruse.

"Evening chaps..." he said to the men he was standing with.
"Chapette." he said, with a nod, to the girl.

[Man of Steam]

Alex picked up the bag off the ground, and dusting it off, handed it back to her.
"If you say madame, my father always taught me to trust the word of a lady, and that advice has never steered me wrong yet"
Privately, Alex was becoming rapidly interested in his new traveling companions, from the eccentric Cenek, to the mysterious woman in front of him. This train of thought was interrupted by a man who had entered their little group.
"Evening chaps...chapette" said the man as he entered their conversation.
"And who might you be?" said Alexandre, a curious look on his face.

[Arx Nimbus]

"Me? I'm no one. Just a shadow with a name. That name's Arx Nimbus, at your service." he replied. Glancing back over his shoulder at some guards walking past.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Cenek looked on with delight as more people joined their little group in the middle of the line, which was moving far too slowly for his tastes.

"Ah, see! The time grows shorter as the conversation grows larger!" he said, beaming at his new friends, or, at least, the people he considered his new friends. Of course, with so many people here, everyone broke off into their own conversations. But the seeds of discourse had been planted!

He then noticed the local guards moving about near them. Of course, it was probably just a routine beat... but he still started to wish the line would move even a little faster. He heightened the collar of his coat and dropped his bowler down slight, which of course made him look only move suspicious.

"So, Alex, Ms. Kayloc," he said, trying to continue normal conversations. "What are your dreams for America? Ah, please, do not be shy - we all have them, if even the little dreams."

[Rosalia]

Rosie took her bag, and thanked Alex with a court smile. She looked at the new addition to her little group. He didn't seem like a trustworthy fellow.


If I am going to be an independent woman, she thought , I should learn to trust people.

She sighed, "Well, Mr. Cenek, I have a friend that is supposed to meet me when I arrive. I thought maybe I would work as a teacher, there always seems to be some need for that."

[The Corsair]

The young lady's collision, followed by the formation of a ragtag bunch of like-minded people, or perhaps escapees, did not go unnoticed by him. He stole a glance at the young woman and allowed himself an extra moment to appreciate the beauty she had despite her old clothing.

As more people gathered around the lot of them, he decided if he was to make this voyage, and whole new life, bearable, he would need friends. He had no real qualms about talking to new people but he was never the sort to network widely. He had a few friends but never felt the need for more.
Well, few or many, they're gone now. It really is time to find new people.

He turned and used the small seconds he remained unnoticed to take in the looks of worry on the faces of some, especially the young ones like him. He guessed that most had done as he had and run away from home. By their accents he could tell that they hadn't run as far as he had. He wanted to get to the new world, to get away from his father, to get away from that toxic home. He put in no planning. He decided one evening, after another of his father's attacks, that he would go. He robbed the man blind, though it didn't give him much at all, and escaped. It was only when he reached France that he stopped compulsively looking over his shoulder. The man had no way of sending out a search party anyway. He should have no wish to either. He was safe.

He took the moment he could to speak.

"They say the land of the free has many educational positions. You should be well equipped for your new life. I am Falko Hendrick Hoogenboome. Falko. Pleased to meet you all."

[Alexis Voltaire]

"Yes, fine." Luke replied, offering his hand. "Luke Marshall, freelance writer. Or I was, I suppose, since I don't know if I'll be able to find that manner of work again anytime soon." He added. He was glad now more than most times that some of his more... unusual stories had been published under pen names, since he hadn't had the time, or means, exactly, to come up with a proper forged identity for the trip.

[Arx Nimbus]

Arx looked over at the man who had just stepped in and could tell by his eyes that he was world weary. The same look possessed most of the people talking here.
Which is why we're all boarding this ship I suppose...

"Please to meet you sir. Arx Nimbus, at your service." Arx said quickly. It paid to have allies.
The group was drawing closer to the boarding ramp.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

"Ah, greetings Falko!" said Cenek cheerfully, consciously turning his back to the passing guards. He noticed the young Arx did as well. A thief as well? Perhaps a lad like that could be of use.

"From your name, not English, I presume?" he said. "Dutch, perhaps? It is good to meet someone from the continent here, no offense to all my new English friends. But, ah, that will not matter so much soon. Well Falko, what is it you do?"

[Rosalia]

Rosie noticed the others hiding from the guards. She didn't recognize them and they didn't recognize her. So maybe her father didn't put out the notice, maybe he hadn't realized she, the money, and the revolver were gone. She still lowered her head as they passed by.