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Author Topic: The Clutch (A bar for airship pirates, ragamuffins and other law breakers)  (Read 29986 times)
Acid Varrakin
Gunner
**
Australia Australia

Aestheticism Negates Practicality


« Reply #25 on: January 29, 2010, 02:11:03 pm »

Varrakin allowed himself a slight smile and joined Gideon at the bar.

"A noble sentiment, my friend, but one I've never learned to subscribe to myself. The world hasn't been as kind to me as I'd have liked. My habit for judging books by their covers has often been the only thing standing between me and a nasty papercut. Which reminds me; I hope you don't take offense, ma'am," he motioned to the barlady, then back to Gideon. "But this doesn't seem to me the stort of place where a mild-mannered philosopher would spend his afternoon, even if you leave the whiskey out of the equation. What brings you here, friend?"
Logged
MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #26 on: January 29, 2010, 03:58:51 pm »

Bailey remembers why the unpaid custom occurred in the first place, and pulls out his pocketwatch, which is constructed exacly as it appears to be: with as little opaque material in teh case as possible, so that the gears - made of mother of pearl, brass, wood, and even, apparently, occasional bits of jet or perhaps obsidian, can clearly be seen whirling, rocking, advancing quickly yet methodically, or barely seeming to move at all, as is the function of each in its own situation. In short, the watch is designed and built to exacting standards, from non-magnetic materials, a necessity when one carries a weapon such as the Lightning Projector.

The watch chimes with the "tock-tock" of tiny, hollow wooden blocks, and the multiple-scale dial shows the time to be eight bells of the Evening Watch. There's just time enough for another whiskey, Bailey thinks, just before the sound of a rifle report sounds from the street down at the end of the alley.
Logged

Walk softly and carry a big banjo...

""quid statis aspicientes in infernum"
CorneliaCarton
Zeppelin Captain
*****
Scotland Scotland

Gravatar


« Reply #27 on: January 30, 2010, 01:51:49 am »

"Just don't do it again" She warns them, sliding Varrakin his drink.
Logged

Ginny Audriana Irondust Moravia. Pleased t' meet ya.
MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #28 on: February 01, 2010, 07:27:14 am »

"The natives be restless tonight," Bailey rumbles as he finishes his whiskey, stands up, and starts working the brass wings out through the sleeves in the back of his shirt, weskit, and greatcoat.

"got to get back to th' ship, we're loftin' for a far port , got to be there by mornin'." Bailey said, stepping to the door and listening intently. Having heard nothing but the normal nighttime city sounds, but far down the street, the sounds of coppers and what sounded liek a drunken airman putting up a fight, he steps out into the alley, extends the wings once again, then folds them down around his shoulders as he climbs partway up a fire escape, then lets go, spins around as the wings catch the air, and then flaps off, up into the foggy night sky. The sound of a steam-blimp's whistle shrieks suddenly, and a voice rings out, "watch where ye be bloody going, ye big water turkey!"

A report, as of a middle-caliber musket, rings out from the upper air, followed by a hissing *SSSOOOOooorrrchhBOOMM* as of a certain individual's tesla rig, followed by the sound of a blimp setting down, hard, on the cobbles two streets over from the bar; this is followed by the sussurration of the deflated gasbag as it settles around and over the formerly-airborne gondola and the stoops in the same street... and also the surprised screams, laughter, and curses of the street people, vendors, vagabonds, crew and captain of the blimp, and general passers-through as they dodge the heavy, rubberized cloth.
« Last Edit: February 01, 2010, 09:57:28 am by MWBailey » Logged
Tenlo
Deck Hand
*
United Kingdom United Kingdom


Travelling Philosopher and Part-time Eccentric


« Reply #29 on: February 06, 2010, 09:18:09 am »

"Ahh see, hence why I suggested to never judge a book by its cover. Mild-mannered I may seem, but I've found politeness gets you through a lot in life and avoids a lot of its hardships. As for being here, well let us say, that philosophy doesn't pay the bills like it used to. But a traveller learns a lot of things, some skills and some information, and both can be used to procure the monies it takes to travel. And well I tend to find that places like this may well need my services more than some of the drinking holes of the more upper class gentleman.

On a similar note, good sir, apart from the beauty of our host and the excellent beverages on offer, which is reason enough for a fellow like myself, what brings you to this esteemed bar?"
Logged
theairman
Officer
***
United Kingdom United Kingdom


The Steampunk Aesthete


WWW
« Reply #30 on: April 13, 2010, 06:20:03 pm »

*An old man, who had hitherto been sitting at the very far end of the bar, one whose face is covered with scars, tattoos and wrinkles, looks up at this moment as the parchment is retrieved*

"Excuse me good sir! Might I ask if that piece of paper was a privateering license? You must have many a story to tell good sir! I'm sure we would all *he glances at the newcomer and nods respectfully* love to hear a tale of your adventures!"
Logged

mostserindipitous.tumblr.com

"Education begins the gentleman, but reading, good company and reflection finish him."
John Locke (1632-1704)
CorneliaCarton
Zeppelin Captain
*****
Scotland Scotland

Gravatar


« Reply #31 on: April 19, 2010, 03:45:01 pm »

Cornelia sighed and continued to wipe down the bar. Never was there a boring day at The Clutch....
Logged
MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #32 on: April 24, 2010, 02:46:58 am »

Jack Pulsifer (sometimes called "Mad" Jack Pulsifer, often with understandable reason) walked the street, the seemingly-perpetual fog clinging to everything: the buildings, the lampposts, his poncho, the sabre at his side and the Mauser in its wooden holster-stock at his hip. His boots ringing hollowly on the board sidewalk, he rounds the corner, finally, nearly a hundred yards from where the Beau Rosin is moored to a stanchion beside a ramshackle brick chimney. He notices that This town, or at least this end of it, at this particular point in the timestreams, has become more than a bit ramshackled. When teh chronojammer in teh Beau had finally ticked over to the set year and teh randomly-set dimensional coordinates, he had flown in close to teyh ground and moored to the nearest roof, knowing and remembering the part of town distinctly.

He came at length to the bar called The Clutch, hoping that no one remembered him here -- oh, that's right, he remembers, that duel was three dimensions over and later in the year. He breathed a bit easier, but still did not relax, as he knew that in any permutation of the clutch, no matter which dimension, one had to watch one's step, as he walked in, and sat at the bar, methodically throwing his white wool poncho over his left shoulder (which exposed both the sword on one hip, and the self-loading pistol ion teh other), removing a solid gold sovereign from his red-tartan vest, and laying it on the bar, and removing the very-wide-brimmed, palm-straw hat with a low cigarette roll all the way around from his head and laying it beside the coin, secretly hoping that this time, Brantley wouldn't show up just in time to "fix" some barely-noticeable glitch in the temporal state of the world. The man had the worst sense of timing in the multiverse.

"Somethin' wet 'n' alcoholic, Miss," he told the woman at the bar, "if its not too much trouble," he added...
Logged
Sebastian Greyfield
Gunner
**
United Kingdom United Kingdom


The apparently chinless wonder


« Reply #33 on: May 05, 2010, 06:11:41 pm »

Three gunshots sound in the night air, followed by the sound of a man screaming then being cut off abruptly.  A few moments later the door opens and in walks a tall-ish young man.  At roughly 6ft tall, he seemed larger due to also being broad, though not overweight.  A long brown leather coat hung open showing a dark brown waistcoat and loose-tied cravat.  However most attention was usually drawn to the long-nosed pistol shoved into his belt, which was still smoking slightly.

Walking to the bar the brown haired youth sat on a stool and smiled broadly "Whatever your best bourbon is, please" he requested, then hurriedly wiped a splatter of blood off of the edge of his coat.
Logged
Ruix
Deck Hand
*
United States United States



« Reply #34 on: June 18, 2010, 02:35:48 am »

A young lady enters unnoticed by all but Cornelia. Her oversized jumpsuit is ruined with grease and isn't all the way on, but turned down at the waist revealing an also grease ridden short sleeve shirt. Her hair was thrown back in a messy tie and her working goggles hung around her neck. The lass discreetly shakes her head at Cornelia, who seems to catch on to whatever it was the signal meant, then takes a seat next to one of the men who was gazing in awe at the spectacle of the man who had come in just before her. Her hands were covered in grease her right jawline was smeared with the black as well.

The man beside her was fully distracted by the situation of the gunshot. She took the opportunity to, with the gentle hands of a woman, unclip the pocket watch he had tucked into the pocket of his vest and wrap it quickly in a napkin from the counter. Cornelia, though she didn't see this, made her way down to her side of the bar, glancing only momentarily at the blood splattered man, as if the circumstances involving the lass were more important than the shot which rang out just moments earlier.

"I still did owe you for your favor." The lass handed napkin-wrapped item to the bartender. "Tuck it away for now."

The bartender then...
« Last Edit: June 18, 2010, 07:17:32 am by Ruix » Logged

Foxes and toads.
The Corsair
Defective Inspector
Moderator
Zeppelin Admiral
*
New Zealand New Zealand


PixieOnTheMic
« Reply #35 on: June 18, 2010, 05:36:25 am »

Poured the lady her usual lager with shaking hands.
'What business could she have here?

"I have a proposition for you..."
The bartender swung around
"I have a plan in regard to the grand fleet, and I need your help"
"Those days are over for me" replied the bartender
she turned away to pour a drink for one of the regulars who had motioned for another beer when she heard the unmistakable sound of the lady's pistol rubbing against the inner lining of her overalls
"When's your break?" Asked the lady as silence gripped The Clutch
Logged

I think I should also mention I had a dream about this game, only Bailey was a woman...

I assure you, that incident in Singapore was all a misunderstanding.
Ruix
Deck Hand
*
United States United States



« Reply #36 on: June 18, 2010, 05:56:04 am »

Despite now being watched by everyone, the young-engeneer-looking lass didn't let her eyes from Cornelia's, which were purposefully focused on a glass she was washing - hesitant to look up at her. Anyone could guess now that her past consisted of criminal operations; and the body language of Cornelia insisted she had been involved.

The lass continued,
"It isn't often I ask for your help. I know... that, before.."

The bartender slammed down the glass mug she was drying and spoke still, without making eye contact - already starting towards the back door, "outside, Abigail."
« Last Edit: June 18, 2010, 07:27:11 am by Ruix » Logged
The Corsair
Defective Inspector
Moderator
Zeppelin Admiral
*
New Zealand New Zealand


PixieOnTheMic
« Reply #37 on: June 18, 2010, 06:40:33 am »

He watched the two women leave, the second discretely thieving a second pocket watch from an unsuspecting, and well lubricated, aviator.
His hand patted his jacket once, twice. Good, the gun was still there. He dropped a tip on the counter and made towards the door, allowing his top hat to resume its post atop his head in the process.

Once outside, he made towards his airship then pretended to notice a small stall of trinkets.
He examined the trinkets and listened...
"The grand fleet's oldest ships could out pace the Iron Sky in any weather. My ship's old, defunct."
"How do you intend on catching one? You said it yourself, there's no way you can keep up with them, and they never fly alone." The barkeeper replied, with more than just a hint of frustration in her tone.
"You're the best pilot I know, and-"
"Can I help you sir?"
The voice startled him. it was the owner of the stall.
Just when their conversation approached the climax... he thought in anger
"I'll have the pocket watch" he said, pointing to a rusted hunk of metal

He made towards his vessel once more, 'accidentally' knocking into abigail on his way.
"Terribly sorry..." He muttered as he swapped her thieved pocket watch for the rusty broken one he had just purchased...
Logged
Ruix
Deck Hand
*
United States United States



« Reply #38 on: June 18, 2010, 07:06:54 am »

"The hands of a man cannot do as discreetly that of a woman," Abigail said calmly. Both of the ladies laughed a different, more confident laugh than as if they had been giggling about a flash gentlemen. She continued, grinning and extending her hand, "My watch, sir."

He stopped and, without turning around, rubbed his thumb over the outside of the watch, then tucked it into the pocket of his vest. He tugged at his coat and adjusted his top-hat, buying a moment to think. He could simply continue walking, for what could the two women, both petite, really do? Yet their operations were of value to him, and so this proved an opportunity too good to pass up.

A sharp inhale and he spun around, pursing his lips and walking delicately towards the two women.
"Ladies," he grinned and paused a moment. Cornelia raised an eyebrow, her arms now crossed, urging him to continue. He removed his hat, "...I believe I could be of assistance to you."
« Last Edit: June 18, 2010, 07:09:54 am by Ruix » Logged
The Corsair
Defective Inspector
Moderator
Zeppelin Admiral
*
New Zealand New Zealand


PixieOnTheMic
« Reply #39 on: June 18, 2010, 07:39:17 am »

For the second time that day, a shot rang out.
Another gun barked a reply and within seconds the lane was filled with steam hisses and the hard percussion of gunfire.

He deftly dropped to the ground and dove for a small shop.
"Another shot topper" He remarked to himself, looking at the gaping hole in his top hat

Cornelia and Abigail found themselves crouched beside him
"I'm Douglas by the way. And as for my usefulness to you, perhaps a quieter spot would do for a talk. Come to my airship."
"I have a ship of my own thank you very much. I don't much like being forced into a stranger's ship." Snarled Abigail
"You said it yourself, it's a bucket of bolts."
"Sir," was Cornelia's interjection, closely followed by the sound of a dagger leaving its sheath, "The Clutch will have to be the location of our conversation."
"So much for taking it outside..." Muttered Abigail
"If you want to get shot during our discussion be my guest. The Clutch, now."
The two women dashed for the bar.
Douglas looked down and smiled at the corpse that had sold him the rusty pocket watch not two minutes earlier. He grabbed the coins he gave her out of her hand.
"Pleasure doing business with you madam."
He set off after the two women.
Logged
Ruix
Deck Hand
*
United States United States



« Reply #40 on: June 18, 2010, 07:57:59 am »

Cornelia hardly waited for Douglas to slip inside the now-empty Clutch before closing the door. She held her dagger between her teeth and worked quickly to secure the three locks along the right side of the door. Abigail was already behind the bar, helping herself to a drink as though it were common place.

Abigail took a sip from the small glass she had poured herself, and with her face still wrinkled at the potency of the liqueur, spoke, "I can't fathom, Cornelia, why you didn't leave with me..."

Douglas began to help himself to an abandoned drink on the bar, but Cornelia swiftly took the glass just as it was inches from his lips and took a sip for herself. She slammed her dagger down into the bar and took a seat, sighing and tracing her finger around the rim of the mug.
Logged
The Corsair
Defective Inspector
Moderator
Zeppelin Admiral
*
New Zealand New Zealand


PixieOnTheMic
« Reply #41 on: June 18, 2010, 08:14:13 am »

"Well, I'll just have to continue without a drink. Invite us into your bar and not offer us a drink, times have changed"
She ripped the dagger from the counter
"Now isn't the time for sarcasm."
"Cornelia, he's going to help us. If this scheme is going to work we need all the help we can get."
In the batting of an eyelid the dagger was stuck in the wall, inches from Abigail's face.
"I'm not exactly pleased with you either."
"Throw away your only weapon? way to bargain." Remarked Douglas
"Typical man way of thinking. Only one weapon."
"This aside," Announced Abigail with an unprecedented amount of authority in her voice, "Before we proceed, what, my friend, do you get out of this?"
Douglas sighed and reached for the drink he had tried to take once already, only to be denied of its nectar once more.
"Are you both familiar with Sky Admiral Vladimir?"
Logged
Ruix
Deck Hand
*
United States United States



« Reply #42 on: June 18, 2010, 08:22:27 am »

The two women answered at the same time. Abigail pulling together her eyebrows in confusion, "I'vent heard the name." And Cornelia with a serious face, "Of corse."

Douglas began to inform Abigail, "Its- "
but was cut off by Cornelia. "Your plan?" She went behind the bar, removing her dagger from the wall and fixing him a drink. Douglas examined the fraying hole in his hat as he spoke,
Logged
The Corsair
Defective Inspector
Moderator
Zeppelin Admiral
*
New Zealand New Zealand


PixieOnTheMic
« Reply #43 on: June 18, 2010, 08:32:31 am »

"It's really a matter of pride for me... In short, once upon a time we went our separate ways. He went to the royal eastern fleet, I dropped out after a year, commandeered an airship and have been a pirate since."
"Aren't you a bit well dressed for a pirate?" Snorted Abigail
"Aren't you a bit too old to be a pirate?" Cornelia snapped, scolding Abigail into silence.
"Well, after a time I got my own airship..."
"You traded away a royal airship?"
Her glared at her over his ruined topper
"Yes, and the ship I got in return was as fine as any. More importantly, she was mine. Vladimir caught me about 5 years ago, I've been laying low in the interim."
"You want revenge..."
"Yes. Now I don't know how exactly that can fit into what you want but a man in need of revenge will do almost anything with the promise of getting his soothing his vengeance."
"Well Cornelia, it looks like I no longer need your services."
"Good. I have no need of your presence. Ever. Good day Douglas."
Abigail pranced tantalizingly out of The Clutch's back door. Douglas stood up, gulped down half a tankard of the drink he had attempted to steal twice previously and hurried out after Abigail.
Logged
Ruix
Deck Hand
*
United States United States



« Reply #44 on: June 18, 2010, 08:56:32 am »

(sorry for character stealinggg:P Cornelia get in on this, we need you haha)

Abigail turned back and look at Douglas when she notice the door of the bar swing open in the distance behind him. It was Cornelia who calmly made her way after the both of them.

Must have changed her mind.. Abigail figured privately.
"Wait." She stopped her stride which had already slowed. "Perhaps she's considering taking up her old ways.." Abigail said with a grin.
« Last Edit: June 18, 2010, 07:48:38 pm by Ruix » Logged
The Corsair
Defective Inspector
Moderator
Zeppelin Admiral
*
New Zealand New Zealand


PixieOnTheMic
« Reply #45 on: June 18, 2010, 09:03:39 am »

"Look if this is going any further you're going to have to give me a bit of history here. What is it between you two?"
"Later, she won't want to catch me telling you about it."

She's already made the decision to join us. Why can't Abigail just tell me... I guess I'll have to bring it up with Cornelia at some point.

"Wait," Said Cornelia, destroying the possibility of further thought, "There's something you'll undoubtedly need."
Logged
Ruix
Deck Hand
*
United States United States



« Reply #46 on: June 18, 2010, 09:12:09 am »

"Yes. YOU to pilot the ship."
Abigail turned to Douglas, suddenly realizing it may have been offensive.
"Not that.. ..just.. trust me. If we're to have even the slightest chance..."
She looked at Cornelia, then back to Douglas; both of their expressions unreadable.
« Last Edit: June 18, 2010, 07:49:43 pm by Ruix » Logged
The Corsair
Defective Inspector
Moderator
Zeppelin Admiral
*
New Zealand New Zealand


PixieOnTheMic
« Reply #47 on: June 18, 2010, 09:17:00 am »

She may come off as a good pirate, but she's a terrible negotiator
"I'll fly my ship and my ship only. Like before, it's a point of pride."
Hopefully they'll still believe that lie...
Logged
CorneliaCarton
Zeppelin Captain
*****
Scotland Scotland

Gravatar


« Reply #48 on: June 18, 2010, 04:02:41 pm »

((Okay, fair enough that I havn't been here in a while, but must you take over my character? At least PM me to let me know that there have been replies))

She looked between the two.
"What makes you think that I'm going to pilot the ship? I have my own ship, my own crew. You want my help, join my fleet, otherwise, forget it" She said, quite adamant. There was no way she was going to work for anyone else. She was her own boss. Her hand brushed against her gun, showing that she was serious. There was a scowl on her face, directed at Douglas.
Logged
Ruix
Deck Hand
*
United States United States



« Reply #49 on: June 18, 2010, 07:35:55 pm »

((ughh ya I'm sorry about that Embarrassed it was messed up - my fault.. I think the both of us got a little excited about the storyhaha - glad your onlinee - this is a sick post Grin))

I know well enough she wont budge... Abigail thought.
Looking at Douglas she could infer that he wasn't planning to either.

"Well..." Abigail pulled a rag from her pocket and began wiping down her hands. Realizing there was grease on her face as well, she licked the rag and wiped her jawline. "My vessel is unfit for an operation of this scale. I have been working on it for a good part of the day and its helpless." She looked from Cornelia to Douglas, who were glaring at each other. Abigail continued, "And seeing as Cornelia is of passed, acquaintance," she paused and stuck out her hand to the gentleman, "Pleasure meeting you Douglas."

Abigail held her gaze and slightly tightened by grip on his hand, hoping he would comply with Cornelia's conditions.
Abigail's mind raced, If my idea is to be carried out, successfully, I will need them both. Yet I went into this expecting only Cornelia's help. The loss of Douglas's help wouldn't be terrible. ..but there's something. Something about him which I'm about positive is of value to us.
« Last Edit: June 18, 2010, 07:53:33 pm by Ruix » Logged
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