"STEAM LONDON" Game Thread

[Jessica Butcher]

Miss Butcher inquired if Mr. Hudson has seen an invisible cat lately. As she opened her bag, removing a leather-bound notebook, a pair of bright blue goggles and a dubiously high-tech pistol could be seen within. She still appeared not to realize how out of place she looked in this rather seedy establishment.

[Ben Hudson, Esq.]

Hudson was brought abruptly back from his idle daydreams by a young lady talking to him. A mental double-take later, he replied.
"An invisible cat, miss? I am afraid that I have not."
Manners prevailed.
"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ben Hudson, fresh off my ship. And if I am not mistaken, you are too... forgive me if I am being too forward."
As he leant forward to nod a polite greeting, he spied upon a pistol within the lady's bag. None of my business, he reminded himself.

[Leonard Lightning]

After spending several hours wandering around the campus attempting to gain employ and receiving nothing but scorn Leonard heads back down to the seedier parts of town wondering just how long he could do without employ.  Unsure of what to do with himself without a laboratory available he begins stopping in nearly any business that looks half respectable and inquiring if they might have need of an inventor.  Considering most business in this region of London were fairly simple affairs his answer is often no.  Frequently it is something far ruder.

The he enters a bar named Bucer's quill.  "Hmmm. Sounds like an establishment that would have an appreciation of the learned man." he says to himself as he enters.  Spying a lady and a gentleman who appears to be used to working with machinery firsthand is somewhat reassured, so walking up to the bar keep jauntily tapping his cane to the floor he says, "Good afternoon.  Might I inquire if you have need of one skilled in the harnessing the might of the heavens or the wrathful progeny of fire and water?"  He asks this with an insufferable smile upon his face all energy returned by what he thinks is a good chance at employ.


Meanwhile on a ship deep within its engine room labours a figure of similar structure and look but completely different bent.  He has arranged many antenna's for what the uninitiated would find an utterly mad reason.  One of those poor souls had raised his voice in question to this stranger on their ship.  That poor souls charred skeleton could still bee seen blackened and sparking from the surface of a mechanism which seemed to constantly be spinning while still at rest all the same.  This dynamo this conduit and container of the aether's before recently untapped power seemed to glow with unwholesome blue light.  You could see coils and gears within that arced or glowed blindingly from time to time and yet, it seemed as if this engine of barely contained destruction was intended to be born upon the back to judge by the harness tucked into a suitcase laying near it.

This figure smiled to himself at the thought of how his additions to the engine would speed it along to his target.  His brother would not be allowed to escape again.  With the colonel's help there would be no where his foolish brother's shadow could fall with out Lemwith's being there to cross it.  Oh yes.  The time was nearly at hand for there to be one less of their house.

[Ben Hudson, Esq.]

"Good afternoon.  Might I inquire if you have need of one skilled in the harnessing the might of the heavens or the wrathful progeny of fire and water?"

Hudson rolled this over in his mind, and inspected the thin, almost gaunt man. His American accent came as a mild surprise after months of 'normal' English. Hudson was in need of a crew, for sure. He ran a palm over his chin, and drained the dregs of his drink.
'Ben Hudson.' He offered him his hand. 'I might be able to find a job for you. Nothing fancy, I am afraid. But I can offer you a place on board and a room for a laboratory if you wish. Do I correctly ascertain from your appearance that you are an inventor? In return for your services in improving my airship, I will offer you a home, a lab, and a share of whatever wealth may come my way. Equal shares to all crew, of course.' Honesty bit at him. 'However, I must admit that I have no plans as of yet. Ambition, and the APF Bohème, a hundred-yard airship with a pair of R-R Condors is all I have.'
He leaned back into his chair, realising that it was probably not exactly the best proposal the man had ever heard. One can but try...

[Leonard Lightning]

Leonard grins pleased that his assumpition of the quality of the room was not only proven true but was in fact a bit of of an underestimation. "A lab?  Most excellent.  Any flying vessel capable of containing a reasonable lab is surely of top quality.  Not only am I an inventor good sir but an explorer of the aether through radial dispersion cage.  I'm sure that I could be an absolutely wonderful help to the efficiency of your vehicle." he pauses and turns towards ben just now realising that it wasn't the barkeep who spoke.  His grin becomes slightly more sheepish, "My apologies sir and madam.  I was err... a bit overwhelmed.  I am however delighted to meet you.  My name is Leonard Fulmineus," saying this he doffs his hat bowing in an old fashioned style.

[clockworkcoffin]

Aboard the Inevitable, Daniel is getting somewhat flustered.  He's been hovering in front of Lord Trent's mansion for nearly an hour...it isn't like the old man to be late.  Something must be wrong.  He loads his revolver and takes a rope ladder down to the lawn below.  Making his way to the house, he notes that the windows are all dark.  He enters...and immediately turns around as a tear runs down his cheek.

Back on the Inevitable he breaks down completely.  "Trent..." he sobs as Amelia rushes to him, "Trent's dead."

[Jessica Butcher]

Jessica Butcher proceeds to introduce herself to Leonard, mentioning that she is an experienced airship crew member and although by no means an inventor, has the good fortune of a colleague whose many innovations in weaponry and various other fields are at her disposal. The truthfulness of this prounouncement sounds rather questionable, and she's beginning to get annoying altogether, although unaware of this as she is of most things.

[clockworkcoffin]

Daniel takes the helm in a fit of despair, heading nowhere in particular and at a not-altogether safe speed.  He speeds into the darker more dangerous parts of the city and proceeds to crash headlong into the ground in front of a certain tavern...a place he's all too familiar with.

[Mercury Wells]

As Daniel signals for more power, the ship lurches forwards, rebounds and comes to slow stop. He blacks out.

(Sometime later)

"What in the name of..." asks Daniel, as he comes to in a luxurious bedchamber.
"It's quite alright, my pupil" says a shadow in semi lit room.
"wh-wh-where am I?, Who are you?", Daniel asks.
"You're safe Anton, my friend, just call me Sensi", replies the shadow. "Now!..how much do you remember?".
"Not much, except that that I was very upset & angry".
"I should discipline you for your actions, as it was a very crude and stupid action to make on your part, but as I have always said...'one error is forgivable, twice is death', but you...my favourite pupil have already made two errors. That I will never forgive or forget, but I will you one last chance to redeem yourself if possible.
"My ship, Miss Amelia and...crew!?" asks Anton (Daniel)*
"Being refitted, repaired. Get some rest, your re-training starts in two days, be ready, they're being taken care of, as we speak and of Amelia I'm sorry to say that she did not survive".
"Thank you, Sensi", with that, tears running down his cheeks Anton turns over.
The shadow detaches himself from the chair and smiles and on leaving the room says to himself, "Soon my plans will come to fruition"

[HAC]

Hiram sat in his study, the only noises the soft crackle of the fire, and the muted clicking of the telegraph repeaters and the
soft whirr as their tapes were fed into the Babbages. He studied his notes and ledgers. It had been a good month for business.
His dealings with Fu Manchu were paying off handsomely, as gold, drugs and weapons flowed through the networks the two villains
henchmen had forged. Not only gold, but more important, information and knowledge, that was where the real power would come
from. Already the drug dens that were set up under establishments owned by the many front companies Hiram owned indirectly had
netted some valuable customers, judges, parliamentarians, and even a bishop.. Ah yes. Business was good....
There was a soft knock at the door, and Uriah entered. He deposited a tray of envelopes and papers on Hiram's desk, then turned,
adjusted the fire, and left, as quietly as he had come...
   "Good man, that," thought Hiram. Servants like that were rare,. but then considering that Uriah and the Colonel had a long
acquaintance, there was little doubt there was a bond between them..
  "he was a good batman, no officer could have had better" thought Hiram, "... and then after Gandapor and that day the two of
them had emerged from the ruins of the fort, shattered by the Khalsa of Sher Singh, sole survivors of the garrision that had held it, leaving behind them scores of the pride of  the Khalsa, dead, walking out to meet the relieving  troops and walking into John Company history together..." He rubbed the small scar on his wrist, the twin to the one Uriah wore on his..
    "That was a day, though, that old mad Gilzai chieftain,  Afzul, looking at us like we were ghosts, and then bonding us as brothers, on haft and hilt, fire and salt, and  in blood.." he thought
  Hiram rubbed his eyes... "...and Uriah is the only one who does not fear me..he knows my secrets , and I his. When I go, all 
my empire will be his, and a title, too.. I have no children, he will inherit, and be dammed the lot of them!"
  Hiram  opened the papers Uriah had left, and began tor read..
"Good, good, Blenkinsop at the Yard earned his keep. That MP died oddly, and the Holmes brothers and their meddling doctor
friend are  involved. Hmm.. cremated, and the housekeeper set up in Australia, odd that. Uriah will know which of our lads in
Australia to  have watch her, and see what's what..
Lamont says there is a new revolutionary trying to stir things up.. well, let him be for a while, as long as he doesn't start being bad for business. I have services that even the most well meaning of revolutionaries can use...
Billy's note from what I can make of it, says that the fellows from the fire are quiet, but he's watching them...
No word on that American fellow, still not ready to meet with me...
AH, this is capital, word from my scientists that their latest airship improvements will be ready to test in a fortnight..  enough for now.. I need some air to think."
  Hiram arose, and rang for Uriah...
"I am strolling out for a bit, Uriah" he said..
"Will master need me to summon one of the lads to follow?" asked Uriah
"No, no, I think not I have my cane, and this is Mayfair, after all, if you would bring my my black coat, though"
Hiram shrugged on the coat, and stepped out into the night. As London nights went, this one was pleasant enough, touch of fog,
and a slight hint that rain would soon be here.. He lit a cigar and started to stroll down the block..
Suddenly a man stepped out of the shadows, and stood in front of him..
"Evenin' Guv" said the man, and then pulled a dagger from his coat.
Hiram looked at him and took a step back, This was no ordinary footpad, for he held the knife low, not in the clumsy stabbing
gesture that a common thief too often did. Too, the way he balanced on the balls of his feet,said that he was a hired killer...
Hiram started tor raise his cane, but too late, the blade flashed upward, catching Hiram below the breastbone, the point seeking
his heart... there was a snapping noise, and a look of great surprise on the killer's face, as the blade twisted and snapped..
Hiram recovered, and like the old soldier he was, reacted. He tugged on the top of his cane, and the blade glittered as it slid
free. One stroke, catching the assassin on his neck, and it was over, The man was dead before he hit the ground, carotid arteries and jugular
vein cut in one stroke.
   Hiram wiped his blade clean on the man's coat, he had been right to wear his black coat, the one with the mail lining made of that
alloy his scientists had concocted, steel, yet not steel, light, fine, and enormously tough. He would have a bruise tomorrow,
no doubt of that, even now the point of impact ached. He sheathed the blade, another unusual item. Unlike most sword canes,
this blade was not just a stabbing point. Indeed, it was a gift from an oriental warlord, whom Hiram had supplied, (for a fee,
of course) with a shipload of Snyder Enfields. The blade was the work of a master, layered and immensely strong and sharp.
  Hiram dragged the man into the shadows, and began to search the body.. He found a thick wallet, a purse of gold sovereigns,
and a small, but deadly pocket pistol, single shot. Hiram pocketed these items, and then turned the man's pockets inside out ,and
took the dead man's boots off.  With luck, the fellow would look like another victim of the slasher that was stalking London of
late.
  He turned and hurried back home, perhaps the papers and such in the killer's wallet would help. What Hiram desperately needed
to know now was this - who had paid for his killing, and who knew that he, in his identity as the gentleman Colonel, was the head
of the crime empires that squeezed and controlled Lower London?  Who indeed, a rival crime lord? A doublecross by Fu Manchu, no,
he would be dead in his bed of some exotic poison, if that... or was it someone new in the game?? Questions that needed answers,
and quickly, too...

[clockworkcoffin]

"Sensi...have i heard that name before?"

Daniel sits up in bed, his head still aching slightly.  The thought of losing Amelia comes crashing into his mind, completely replacing all curiosity about his current situation,  and he sobs like a newborn until he collapses in exhaustion.  "How many more?" he wonders, thinking back on his grandfather and Lord Trent.  His voice is strained and weak...his willpower wanes and it slips into a whisper.  "My crew...my ship...my Amelia..."  He begins to sob again, this time soft and weary. 

Darkness finds him once more.

[Leonard Lightning]

To Jessica after listening attentively to all she has to say, "Delighted my dear.  It is a pleasure to meet you.  I would love to meet you friend and compare notes with them if they study any similar fields to mine.  'Knowledge is without bound but, joy is bound in friends'.  It's an old saying in Persia." after a momentary pause and a look of consternation. "Oh yes!  Mr. Hudson I would be more than happy to join you as a member of your crew it sounds smashing!  What sort of vehicle are you familiar with Ms. Butcher?  Are you looking to join Mr. Hudson's crew as well?"

[Ben Hudson, Esq.]

Ben shook hands with Mr. Fulmenius. 'A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. I would be glad to have you on board. It would be delightful to have a learned man on board. I count myself as educated, but no more. If I am not prying, may I enquire as to the nature of this radial dispersion cage?'
He turned to Ms. Butcher. 'It would be a joy to have you on board, if you would approve. I am sure that your experience would be useful. I myself have spent several years on the shipping aero-routes around the world.'



OOC - terribly sorry for the long delay, Christmas and suchlike got in the way. I am in a bit of a hurry so this is not much of a post. I shall be back on form soon, I promise!

[clockworkcoffin]

Daniel awoke, his head clear.  His eyes searched the room around him and found it completely unimposing, even comfortable.  Certainly the bed he lay in now was nothing to complain about. 

He got up and found his clothes, cleaned and neatly folded, sitting on a chair next to his bed.  He donned them slowly, allowing his body to adjust to movement...apparently he'd been out a while.  He took a look at himself in a mirror on the inside of an eloquent mahogany bureau, and was pleased to find that he looked no worse for wear.

The sun was just beginning to rise, the first rays of light sneaking through the blinds.  The door handle clicked open...

[Miss Gadget]

After a long, contemplative silence in which Horatio had been dimly aware of Scott leaving and returning several times with brimming tankards, the fog cleared from his mind and he bought his palm from it's position, scratching the back of his head, to slam heavily into the solid table.
Nursing the now aching hand under his jacket he gave Scott a wild look and began pacing alongside the table.

"The Professor!" he made a gesture of enlightenment with his free hand, "all this time I've been searching for some aged text and my true objective is likely some unbound volume doing the rounds of acedemia."

Caught in his own enthusiam he began digging in his bag, pencils and paper marked with unreadable scrawlings fluttered to the ground as he searched. When it looked like nothing more could escape the confides of the satchel he produced a small, red, leather bound volume and began flicking through. As he read he continued babbling.

"Ugarit, the cycle of Ba'al-Hadad," he paused to clear his spectacles, "I recognise the name now, a Moriarty played a significant part in the studies of Claude Schaeffer..."

"Whu?" Scott's eyes regarded him blankly.

"I think," Horatio replaced the book and leaned forward over the table, his voice lowering, "I may be looking for a study of true resurrection undertaken some 2000 years before Christ achieved the same feat. Dark magics indeed."

[the Hat]

"You WHAT???!!?!??!" Scott's eyes bulged out of his head. His brain staggered with trying to comprehend what the bookseller had just told him. Questions suddenly started tumbling incomprehensibly out of Scott's mouth:
"Where the bloody hell did you hear of such a book? Did they really achieve a dark resurrection in the age of ancient Egypt? What kind of devil would attempt such an evil practice?" And most importantly: "What did Horatio want with such a book?"

[Leonard Lightning]

"Ah the radial dispersion cage was an invention of mine with which to see long distances without the aid of telescopes or aiding lenses of any variety.  Its name was a bit of a misnomer because I created it quite by accident and named it before I had fully plumb how it worked.  It more properly should have been named a radial luminous collector and inverter.  It gathers aetheric waves and converts them into an image.  Unfortunately the images were always fairly hazy.  Still it was quite useful since because of it I had some forewarning of my brother's attack on our home.  It's a shame it was to large to carry from the flames." He says the last with a small sigh then smiles widely.

"So what is it that brings the two of you to this place in particular?  I would never have thought to come here but I was running out of options for employment."

[Ben Hudson, Esq.]

'That sounds fascinating indeed. It would be a pleasure to see it in use if you ever rebuild it, but I am sorry about its destruction. You say it was your brother?! How very strange.
'I was drawn here by a rather long series of events. I was actually born in the air, and spent much of my childhood off the ground, until of course the airship I was on was brought down by pirates. This did have the effect of bringing me to England, where I soon got back into the air. For a very long time I worked on the aeroshipping routes, until eventually I became head engineer on a black-powder courier-ship. While satisfying (and relatively well-paying to boot), I got quickly bored of the endless shuttle-runs, and so I saved up my wages for a while, and left with enough money to build an airship from scrap parts!
'When I finally completed the construction of my ship, I returned to England in order to find a crew. I had no luck in York, Bath or Portsmouth, so I came to London a couple of days ago; this happened to be the nearest pub to my docking station! I suppose it is just sheer luck that brought us together.'

He sat back in his chair, his story told. It occurred to him what a journey it had been to this point, and for the first time ever, he had very little idea of where to go next. But he found himself liking the eccentric inventor whose acquaintance he had made, and hoped that this perhaps would be the start of something new and interesting.
Talking of something interesting, the men sitting on a nearby table were getting increasingly loud. He supposed that they had had too much to drink. Hudson did his best to ignore them, but could not help but overhear snatches of words... "resurrection... devil...". At this point, Ben decided to mind his own business. Perhaps they were just drunken ramblings, but regardless, things like that were best left to those who understood them. The depths of thaumaturgy were dark and murky to him, and that was the way that he wanted them to stay. Some things were better left unknown.

[Jessica Butcher]

Miss Butcher interrupted Hudson's thoughts by bringing over a gentlemen who had been getting quite drunk sitting at another table. His appearance was quite striking initially, being a tall, thin albino with dangerously long white-blond hair. He was wearing a long leather coat equipped with an impossible number of pockets, and not only a pair of thick eyeglasses, but also black-framed goggles pulled up high on his forehead. He was, in short, a classicly eccentric scientist, evidently having little contact outside the lab.

Miss Butcher introduced him as her inventor colleague Oliver Newton-Chance, and noted that they would both be pleased to join Hudson's crew. The albino stammered a quick hello and then passed out.

The woman, on the other hand, had only a momentary melodramatic thought on how even the talented Chance was unaware that her search for the invisible cat was only a ruse, to cover her much more serious goal... information that dealt with the resurrection of the dead.

[Ben Hudson, Esq.]

Ben looked up suddenly and noticed an albino man who appeared to have just materialised. He rose to greet him, then sat down as Mr Newton-Chance (as he was named, according to Ms Butcher) collapsed dramatically, narrowly missing various barstools. Several drunkards laughed. Hudson silenced them with a scathing look, and tended to the fallen man. He appeared to have just pulled a faint, so he pulled him onto a chair and brought him round with some smelling-salt hidden about his person.
The newly revived Oliver groaned and settled in the chair, showing no apparent signs of joining in the conversation, though he was at least conscious. Ben decided to leave him be until he was fully aware of his surroundings, and turned to Ms Butcher. 'It would be deligtful to have you onboard, Ms Butcher. On that note, may I have the honour of addressing you by your first name? I would not normally ask this of a lady, but as a crewmember, it would make it far simpler to converse.' He beamed at her.
'Well, I suppose that as I have three willing volunteers, I may as well take you to see the airship. Four is enough to fly her comfortably - five would be better, but I doubt that we would find any more people in these parts. I am sorry to drag you away from this, ahem, delightful establishment.' He got up and settled with the barman who was still trying to dry dirty glasses with a dripping and dirty towel.
'Follow me.' He led the way out of the low door and into the open air, which seemed a little cleaner compared with the tobacco-smoke of the pub. The others followed briskly, Jessica lending a hand to Oliver, who was greatly improved but a little shaky. They rounded the corner and came across the 23rd Municipal Airship Docking Station, a tall (six storeys at least) n-shaped hangar with a narrow base. Flashing a ticket to the uniformed guard in an office, they passed into the hangar. Armed guards were visible, unsurprising considering the rising tension in London. Thousands of cubic yards of hydrogen would make an appropriate torch for passing Luddites or saboteurs.
The APF Bohème was only about thirty feet off the ground, a quiet day meaning that she could rest in one of the lower berths. She was attached to the hangar with steel arms running from one wall to the other and clamped onto her fore and aft docking hooks. The airship was about one hundred yards long and perhaps twenty yards in diameter at her widest point - large compared to gurneys and the like, but small compared to most airships. Her skin was scarlet with gold trim.
Ben jogged along a gantry and unlocked her main door, which was circular and covered in brass armour. 'Welcome,' he said melodramatically, 'to the good ship Bohème!'
The main door led into a narrow corridor with various marked doors running off from it. Ætheric lamps lit the interior. Hudson led them into the bridge, which was set behind a large window in the front of the ship. This gave an impressive 360-degree view. 'This, obviously, is where all the steerage goes on, but I am sure that we'll be more comfortable in here.' He led them into a small lounge off the bridge.
'I don't want to bore you with business, but before we even start, this ship is not going to be run like normal ships. I am the captain by default, as I built the ship. However, as far as possible, everything else is equal. We have equal shares of any money made, equal living quarters, and we each have a say in where we go and what we do. Importantly, on employment, the ship becomes yours. Each crew member has an equal percentage of equity in her, and with that comes the responsibility of paying equally for repairs and costs. There are four of us, so assuming no-one backs out, it's 25% each.'
He leaned backwards on his chair, and pulled a bottle of absinthe from a cabinet, and laid it on a table with the appropriate miscellany. He began to prepare his drink, as did the others.
'So... are you all in? And where do we want to go?'

[Leonard Lightning]

Leonard only listens slightly while looking the ship over.  He merely nods with a soft mhmm as Ben talks.  His attention flows every seam and every bolt.   He eyes ports and inspects plates.  If one could consume something with their eyes then this airship would be devoured in a matter of moments.  "Excellent craftsmanship.  Very solid.  I suspect it could take up to 23 rifle rounds without losing lift.    I assume it is capable of carrying several tonnes of cargo?  A handsome ship indeed.  I would be honored to tend to its needs."

[Jessica Butcher]

Jessica began to suspect she had unintentionally pulled herself into yet another adventure. It was certainly a bit rash, signing herself and Oliver up like that. But he didn't seem to mind- he was now methodically looking over the workings of the Boheme, which was undeniably beautiful. They would pay if they could; that much was known.

The only thing to do now was to wait for something to happen.

[AFGNCAAP]

Meanwhile, somewhere deep beneath London, in a pitch black catacomb, two voices argued--

"Does this mean we've escaped the Middle Ages?"
"Oh, yes,...I think we have, but with our bodies intact, I don't know. Either we're underground, or the explosion got us..."
"Don't be so gloomy; I can find no sign of fire or brimstone, only darkness..." Footsteps, and the gentle patter of hands feeling around a ancient corridor. "A wall here, seems to be made of wood...rotting wood..."
"Me, the gloomy one? Humbug!" This voice paused to cough. "Who just assumed it would be fire and brimstone?"
"Your presence rules out the other possibility. And I hope you're covering your mouth; the plague was bad enough in one era--aha; thank God! The time machine has survived! Over here!"
"Ow--"
"Here--feel the starting crank? We'll be out of here in a jiff; I think. Turn it, and there should be enough light for me to set the date before it starts to--"
Boom!
However the attempt went, and probably not optimally, the passage was showered with many-colored sparks, and a ripple, bubbles in spacetime flowed over London. Here and there, an invisible, infinitely quick hand moved events and people as if they were toys, and no one involved was aware that they had become part of a question: what if? What if things had gone just a tiny bit differently?

Aboveground, it did not seem unusual at all that Demetri listened to Horatio inside the bar, with his head in his hands. He had not gone outside at all...or had he? Time is more fragile than it seems, and it would not have taken much to pop a bubble and return things to how they were before; he could still be there, have been there, or still be yet to go there...or a concoction of the of the three transmuted by forces beyond anyone's comprehension. But to him, he had just heard Horatio, and was running the words through his head again and again, unable to believe he had understood him right.
He had thought he was the only one who had read about this, but Demetri--he had been too terrified to look further. In fact, it was the only thing up until that day's fire that had ever scared him in his life--ever. He had shut the book and wished ever since that he had never opened it. But being the kind of man he was, his fear of the topic was nothing compared to what he owed Horatio.
"Two thousand fifty-five, Monsieur," he spoke as casually as if he were ordering a drink, showing no outward sign of fear. "It was two thousand fifty-five years."
Speaking of drinks, he took a sip to start off another glass of absinthe sans any sign of drunkenness. At a nearby table, a group of young men in patchwork scarves were placing hushed bets on how long he would last, and a man in a short top hat was asking the bartender how strong the absinthe was at this pub--the answer was very.

[Ben Hudson, Esq.]

'I suspect it could take up to 23 rifle rounds without losing lift.'

Ben smiled. 'A few more, I dare say. The gasbags are armoured with Barnaby's Inpenetrable Wonder-Foam from the Americas. They slow even large-calibre rounds down significantly. I daresay she could take perhaps seventy with low gas pressure. I would rather not try though. Cargo - she has a relatively small cargo bay, but she can have up to three tonnes slung underneath. With full lifting capacity, she's about six tonnes in the black, so that would be her maximum load for neutral buoyancy.'




OOC - I will be away for the next three days, and it is unlikely that I will be able to make any posts. I am very sorry for the inconvenience. On the bright side, this leaves a gap in which other players could write something to give us something to do. Think buried treasure, pirate raids, a Luddite insurgency, etc. If nothing comes up, I'll think of something, but I prefer for things like this to be in others' hands Makes it more fun.

[Mercury Wells]

Sensi enters the room and remarks to Daniel, "Ah, I see that you ready, I trust that you have rested well?" Without waiting for a reply, Sensi ushers Daniel out of the room and downstairs to the breakfast room and gently, but firmly, seats him in to a chair at the table facing the morning sun overlooking the gardens. Sensi takes the seat facing Daniel and rings a small silver bell.

A maid enters the room, curtsying at the threshhold, and begins to serve the two gentlepersons.

Daniel cannot help but stare at the young maid who reminds him so much of Amelia; his heart stops for a brief moment as she looks at him.

"A-A-Amelia?" he asks, she looks away with no comprehension and continues to serve them, then she looks at Sensi, who nodded, she leaves, pausing only at the doorway to curtsy and close the doors behind her.

As Amelia is on her way to the kitchen, a single solitary tear runs down her cheek, a quick sob is caught in her throat as she thinks..."All I can remember is waking up deaf & dumb and a domestic. So who's face was that and why do I weep?

Amelia didn't realise that she had managed to subconsionly navigate herself from the breakfast room to the kitchen. She nods, as the cook bade her to do and helped to prepare breakfast for the workers.

(Meanwhile in the breakfast room)

"...so you see Daniel, it is vitally important that you follow that twice-damned lackey Blenkensop of the Yard; leaving notice (using clipped out letters from a newspaper) at his office and home without anyone noticing/killing you and of course you cannot afford to leave any dabs anywhere because the Yard is developing the use of fingerprints thanks to those two learned Gentlemen of Science namely Faulds & Galton".

Daniel nods, absently.

"Oh, I don't mind the lower classes, foreigners & lunatics having records stored on Babbage's Great machine, but WE the ruling class should be allowed our privacy and et al, Don't you think?".

Sensi pauses and asks Daniel "Any questions then?"

"Just one or two" replies Daniel, "Was that maid...Amelia?"

"Sadly, no!", as Sensi answers,  Daniel looks crestfallen. "She was a pitiful creature from a workhouse from somewhere west of the city where superstition & fear still run rife. Therefore by some ill-bred people's thoughts, a would-be perfect poppet to be hired out. By the fortuitous intervention of an agent of mine, she has been rescued from a life of abject poverty and ill-treatment to be employed here with kindness & thoughtfulness.  Infact all the staff here are foundlings, in one way or another".

(Wetness abound Sensi's eyes as thoughts drift back to the past)

Daniel can hear a sadness in Sensi's voice as Sensi speaks. So He toys with the remains of his food, pushing bits and morsels round his plate, waiting for Sensi to get composed as he doesn't want to embarrass Sensi. Silence ensues until the clock strikes 9 of the clock

(The clock strikes 9)

Sensi and Daniel leave the breakfast and walk to an anonymous very large shed where Daniel's crew are waiting, as a small door opens in a main large door open, a whistle sounds that the Captain is aboard, the crew remove their headwear and bow, excepting the officers who merely salute.

"As I've told your crew are quite ok, and ship has retro-fitted for the lastest armament's and other such items, I suggest you familarise yourself with what is new then in a day or two you will begin your mission.