STEAM LONDON: Realms of Aether Game Thread

[Stella Gaslight]

Time is a very strange thing it ran in to the future while while crawling in the present.  Two years had passed like a rainy afternoon.  It was past midnight now but Emma could have sworn it was noon just moments ago.  Emma had many scientific passions but her latest was an odd signal she had been picking up over the aether.  It was faint and rhythmic bit something about it would not leave her be.  She chased it through frequencies both standard and obscure and it faded and it writhed and moved like a living thing but it could not escape her.   


It was two am now and Emma was manning the tuner controls like an airship going through a battlefield.  "All right Miss Thomas apply your booster." 

The tall girl nodded and pasted a gum label with a complicated design on it to the back of the bank of controls and whispered to it. "Your purpose is to boost the tuner signal until we can find the wandering one."  Helena felt a tug in the back of her mind and when she ran her fingers over the paper the tips became numb.  She had successfully spoke life in to the drawing.  "It is active Miss Lightion."

"Lets catch this thing."  She worked the controls, feedback squealing through the speaker horns and a daredevils smile.


Morning was dawning and Emma was exhausted but she continued to hunt the signal and just as the sun peeked in the windows everything suddenly fell in to place.  The signal almost sounded like fluid running through a pump greatly magnified.  Realization hit Emma like a slap to the face, of course she knew this it had been as close to her as her own heart for years in fact it was a boosted heartbeat.  She crowed with joy and sent notices out to her former crew mates before passing out at her lab table for the third time this week.  Helena carried her to the rooms she shared with Mr. Tailor.  He was gone, most likely still in the temporal mechanics lab.  Helena smiled she had never met two more brilliantly stubborn people.

As Emma slept her messages flew out around the world to the crew of the most celebrated airship in an age.  The note was simple, just three words but they carried a good bit of wonder and joy with them. I found George.   

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss' Aetherphone setup on the St. Elmo received the message, when he and it were just twenty minutes out of london at about fifteen thousand feet (the altimeter was broken, but that was just a minor nuisance to himself and his pilot/first officer, Captain Ishmael, who steered the ship while Dreyfuss took care of the more sensitive aspects of his profession, sometimes taking the con while he and Miss frost were elsewhere tqaking care of "various political, unrestful, and occult crises," as the commission document stated were their duties. He was proud to be the first officer of such an important, albeit completely secret, continuing endeavor.

They had just successfully completed a mission to Lands End to deal with a "vampire problem" that had gotten out of hand and threatened to spread to the rest of England. it was not always true that Dreyfuss or other operatived in the secret service got word of such happenstances nad took car eof them so well and so soon, but it was the case this time, although he had come ucomfortably close to being turned by one of teh females this time, and he wasn't entirely sure that  Irene hadn't been bitten. Not that it would have mattered, what with her little secret and all, but still he wondered.
He picked up the speaking tube (speakers and a public address sysytem would probably be better, but the fewer modern "conveniences" they put in, the fewer things there would be to go wrong and have to fix) for speaking in every room on the ship, and called "Miss Irene! Twenty minutes to London!"

He then got back on the aetherphone, and sent back:

Message received; approx. 15 minutes still out-of-London. If Molly's a chum, where'd she put the butter?

Translated, the cursed thing read, "Message received; approx. 15 minutes still out-of-London. If it's not a breach to say (over the horn), where is George?" Or so he hoped.

Dreyfuss hated coded messages. They always sounded much more dire and urgent than they really were, in his estimation, and they were always frighteningly easy to mess up. Still, it never hurt to arrive with guns out and the jacks a-flying...so thinking, he pulled the lever that ran out six of teh 14 casemated guns that the St. Elmo carried, just in case there were need of them, and began the landing hails and pre-touchdown checklist.

it was never this complicated landing the Anthony or the Boheme, he groused to himself. Damned lawsuits and government types...


About then, the Aetherphone began squawking out the series of strange noises that the ticker tape printer read as message parts, and the resultant ticker tape message was received:

Understand Ms. Lighton and Boheme Division have issued call to old crewmembers (stop) your duty, should you accept it , is to accompnay Ms Lighton (stop) on whatever the mission appears to be, and give all and whatever aid is required, (stop) Please send Elmo to Whitehall dock as soon as you and Miss Friost get off at Tinkers Row Dock, for mission-specific hardware(stop) you will have Elmo back within three hours(stop) thank you and God Save Her Majesty (stop)

Dreyfuss hit the "received" key, which caused a "canned" message of "Message received(stop)God Save the Queen (stop), and shut down the ticker tape machine until another "sqwawker" as Dreyfuss called them, came through. HE took thetape back to find Irene, and showed the tape to her. Just then, they began to descend into Tinker's Row Dock, and Cleopatra, Rosies's only remaining offspring on board, slthered in to hiss that such was the case.

Such a sweet little girl-snake, Thought Dreyfuss; it was as if she sensed how much he missed Rosie and was determined to make up for it all by herself. She had even saved his and Irene's life back during the kidnapping rescue, by biting an all-too-stealthy Marauder-Pirate boarder. He stroked her hood affectionately, while she leaned back into the stroking. Pretty shade of white, too, he mused.
[/quote]

[Stella Gaslight]

Emma was still asleep leaving Helena to function as her replacement.  She was waiting for them at the docks with a smile on her face.  Emma had told her quite a bit about her former crew mates and Helena could not wait to meet them.  

[MWBailey]

Captain Ishmael brought the St. Elmo in to land at Tinkers row, wind blasting dust and debris out from under her hull, about a hundred yards away down the dock of the landing field from the Boheme, the slightly-odd-looking little zeppelin ship sinking down like a smaller whale than the Boheme, with a long, black remora stuck in the exact center of her belly, blasting air downward out of vents on her hull.

That "remora" was the actual ship, an iron-hulled paddle steamer that had originally been planned to be used as the ship component of an underslung dirigible, but which was now built-in to the underside and hold of the much-larger rigid-member dirigible framework of a zeppelin envelope and also served as living quarters, engine room, steering room, and the mounting for the ship's armament, six of which could be seen jutting out defiantly from the hull: one on each side of the bow, one on either side amidships,  and two on the rear transom of the iron steamer-hull, the rest of the fourteen apparently hidden away behind their hatchplates.

The amidships portion of the ship was primarily taken up by a large form that mimicked the former, original paddle wheel hump, with the name of the ship painted on it in gold paint on black in an arch that followed the shape of the top of the hump and the top of the louvered air-intake port below it: St. Elmo The boxy extensions on either side of the hump, fashionable when the steamer was first built, contained the aft and forward vents, for forward and backward propulsion, whilst the underside of the hump held the vents from which were now issuing the blasts of air that settled the ship in at her berth. The whine of gearing and the much-softened, yet unceasing, rush of fan-accelerated air told Helena that the ship was not intending to settle in for the night, but was in fact merely dropping off a passenger, or more than one.

She was proved correct, as two people came walking around from behind the ship on the dock that ran halfway around the docking area; a man, apparently older (he had grey temples, in any case) in a blue uniform greatcoat and peaked cap, goggles resting on the dark-colored vest under the coat, while from under the coat jutted the hilt of an obviously-not-dress saber, and on the man's right hip could now and again be glimpsed under the coat a hip-rig, which looked like a chillingly-efficient Colt setup. A largish bag of the type that americans called a "possibles" bag was draped such that it hung diagonally from right shoulder to left hip on top of the greatcoat, and looked as if it had several intriguing things inside of it. His boots appeared to be the type favored by the military forces of the southern north americas, at least in their airship fleets: black leather flaps over buck or deerskin body and uppers, with hard leather soles and heels.

The woman who accompanied the man, on his arm, wore dark green, no-nonsense skirts and what looked like a shell jacket of the same color, her hair done in a loose bun with (apparently) a steel hair fork. Her goggles rested on the top of her head, as if she had just put them there, and expected to put them back down in place again soon; she wore a veil that covered most of her face, and carried two blades that she Helen could see, in scabbards, and what looked like a wickedly-efficient pistol, stuck in the sash around her waist. she wore new-looking button-down-and-buckle-over boots, rising to mid-calf, or so it appeared.

Dreyfuss introduced himself, and the enigmatic young woman who accompanied him in his accustomed Texian Drawl, "Good Evening, Miss. I am Commodore Sir Jaisen S. Dreyfuss (he hoped he got the order right, it always all sounded as if he had botched it, to his own ears) and Miss Irene Frost, My ward, both of us in Liaison to Her Majesty's Secret Service, and Members of the Aether League's Boheme Division. And you are...?" He greeted her formally then, upon being informed that she was Helen, Miss Emma's young protege', and added, "I believe we are expected?"

At that point, the St. Elmo's fans forced her into the air again, the gas valves being dialed to increase lift, and as she cleared the tops of the buildings, the thrust changed from the downward vents to the rearward ones, and off she sped into the morning twilight, in the general direction of Whitehall.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Cain's fingers glided over the parchment as he wrote one of his newest stories, a thrilling tale of courage and heroism. The story was of a giant metal dragon who had kidnapped a beautiful princess, and the metal dog names Scraps that went on a quest to save her.
A series of high-pitched, impatient beeps sounded behnd the window, followed by loud, repetetive clacking. Cain stood up and placed his pen in the inkbottle. A round, and rather annoyed looking messenger drone rammed its circular body into the glass window with an irate tenacity. Cain simply chuckled, sipping a cup of steaming tea and opening the window.
The drone dropped the note on the moist marble windowpane, wet with condensation from the generally steamy residence of the Bordello and Hospital. It perched on the white panel and stared with a single glass eye, its circular body tilting back and forth as Cain pulled open the scroll.
His jaw dropped.

"Now, I want all the upperclassmen to be nice to tha freshmen, seein' as how ye all are me first students I want you ta show them how much ye've learned." The white-haired young man gave the audotorium of students a wide grin which caused several of the fearing first-time students to exhale with releif. Scraps barked urgently from beneath Patrick's podium, holding an envelope in between his slightly improved teeth that one could hardly tell were once comprised of a waffle iron. Patrick took the letter from scraps just as the students dispersed.
"Well I'll be damned." He said with  a chuckle. "Em found 'im!" He laughed, calling Jen to emerge from her laboratory, a vial of distilled peppermint and ginseng in her hands.
"Is that a new healing potion?" Patrick asked with excitement.
"No, it's a beverage for my lunch break!"

[Stella Gaslight]

Helena smiled, Held out a sun browned hand to shake and spoke with a subtle trace of Brazilian accent. "Good morning, Commodore Dreyfuss and and Lady Frost. I have heard so much about you.  My name is Helena Thomas and I am Assistant to the Head of the aether studies lab in the IAL headquarters. Miss Lightion sent me to bring you all to the lab and she also insisted I asked you how the modified coil gun with silver ammunition worked." 


Angel was coaxing a song out of a timid little girl when Cain burst in to the room.  "Cain you know better than to interrupt my lessons." She said with a frown as her skittish pupil hid behind her. 

"I am sorry it is just that Emma found George." He said with a grin.

"But I though He was bee-dead." Angel said with astonishment.

"She said she found him." Cain had never known Emma to lie so if she said it it must be true.

"We will go visit her later, Now shoo." She said playfully pushing her husband from the room.  "Now lets try the nightingale song one more time. I know you can do it."

[T.Taylor the Third]

Trip was in his lab, working on expanding the dementions that his teleporter could travel through, it already travled through 3d space and time.
"But what if" he thought " i could travel to other planes of exsistance, see diffrent versions of myself living there lives in alternate realitys"
he pondered this sipping his coffee, a soy latte,complex calculation filled the paper in front of him....."heh...emma never quite understood my love of coffee.....or why putting milk in it should change the name....ah well....i guess its an american thing...heh...God bless america..heh"

He bent back over his work, totaly unawere of the important discovery emma had made

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick sighed, looking to his note and then to the cavernous halls of the academy that had now been built.

"Is there something the matter, mister O'Landry?" Sigmund asked, his stance much like that of a british royal marine, though according to all dictating files, the tall man seemed nonexistant. Patrick trusted the young man, though there were traces of darkness within him, they wrapped looseley like a veil around a pure light.
"Sigmund, boy-o." Patrick said knowingly, his title being unfounded as he was only 2 years senior to Sigmund. "I've been called to a buisness engagement with a cohort of mine from me days aboard tha boheme, but I can't very much leave me students, now can I? I need ye ta see to things and contact me when you get all the info, savvy?"
Sigmund nodded, rather unsure of the idea of being sent away. "Er...Yes sir."
"Good boy!" Patrick said with a lyrical chirp. "Scraps'll be followin ye around, he's of good use when things get tight, just take him to tha nearest kitchen and watch tha fun!" He said with a laugh as he recalled old times.
And with that,  Sigmund was sent on his way.

Sigmund opened the door of the Aetheric studies laboratory, stepping in apprehensively at first due to his training and its attempt to program the fear of technology outside of weaponry into him. His eyes fell upon the dark skinned woman and the people who gathered near, he then realized it was not this woman who they converged to meet, but a small, slip of a woman who appeared alight with glee.
Curios on the matter, he lept back with apprehensive realisation as to who this woman was. However, this reality's version seemed much more different. She had an air of warmth about her that her extradimensional counterpart lacked.

Cain nodded, closing the door after leaving Angel and her student alone. He let the wonderful sound of Angel's song permeate through the walls and beams of the building. He loved that sound, it always inspired him to write or paint. He pulled out a small notepad and began to write down a few of his ideas.

[E.A. Claringbold]

It had been roughly two years and a little more since the whole ordeal involving the queen, cold ones, her daguerreotype, and etc. It was more or less enough time for her to open up little by little to her cousin, Dreyfuss, but that was not to say that they were without their odd arguments and bickering. Despite those infrequent arguments, they seemed to get along well. Despite getting along well, she still held her own secrets from time to time, never being fully open. Yes, on their last mission, she had been bitten, several times, but she did not worry too much about it seeing that those wounds had no effect on her so far. After all, would not her daguerreotype take care of it? She did not tell Dreyfuss because she saw no need to. If he knew, he would probably get all worried again (but would not anyone else be just as concerned?). Any injury, she felt that she was sure that she could take care of it herself which was hypocritical in a sense when it came to other people’s injuries.

Hearing that they were to hit London in twenty, she was pulled out of her thoughts and began to collect herself which included putting a veil over her face. They walked out of the ship together, one accompanying the other, Irene’s arm slipped through his. They met a woman and let Dreyfuss do the introduction, Irene saying nothing, but an acknowledgement to the woman and proper greetings.

[Stella Gaslight]

Emma had gathered them around the aether tuner and was playing back the sound.   "I had been hearing this sound jump form band to band for almost half a month before I was able to track it down and find out what it is.  You see it is George's heartbeat, I know it as well as my own.  But the truly odd thing is according to my triangulations it is coming from some where just a few miles from here but on an entirely different plane of reality.  As far as I can tell the blast didn't kill George but instead acted much like the aether generator explosion and pushed him even further in to the aetheric plane.  With the technology Trip has been working on I think we can go get him but I have no idea what is out there.  I need help.  You see that is why I asked you to come today."  Emma was grinning from ear to ear.

Angel had the reputation of getting the shyest children to sing like birds. She liked her job a lot and had a lot of students.  Her favorite thing was the spring sing where they would take over the Carlyle theater and all her students would get a chance to sing on stage.   Anna joined her in the nightingale song and Angel slowly stopped singing until Anna was doing it all by herself.  Angel applauded as the song ended and Anna blushed but she was smiling too.  "See I told you that you could do it."  Angel gave the girl a hug and took her back to her waiting mother.  "I will see you next week. Keep practicing."  The little girl smiled and waved as she walked back down the stairs to the street.  Angel checked the big calender on her desk and it looked like she was free for the rest of the day.  She knocked on Cain's study door.  "Come on Cain let's go see Emma lady."

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Excuyse me." Sigmund said, raising his hand like an eager student. "Mister O'Landry told me George was killed during the battle against the queen, are you saying you found his conciousness? If so, perhaps you've found some sort of gate to heaven. I've heard stranger things."
The look of dire beleif in Emma's eyes suddenly made him think otherwise. It was a look of pure convintion the likes of which he had not had the privelage to witness.

Cain opened up the door, the last of the special illustrations for his next book were done. He held the uncanilly large blue book in his arms.
"On the way to the laboratory, I can show you a little invention of mine!" He proclaimed with a proud gron. Angel didn't much like the word invention before she and Cain had settled down a bit. Most inventions she experienced blew up or made other things blow up. But Cain's inventions were often fun and surprising, like his "Jack and the box" though she never really liked that terrifying machine.

[Stella Gaslight]

Emma smiled at Sigmund.  "I know it seems far fetched but I know George is alive. We were connected for so long I would know if he was dead.  George was in the aether when he was hit I think that must have protected him."  He knew this was not an entirely scientific statement but he said nothing.  Her hope was a potent force. 

Angel bounced in place grinning. "What did you make this time?"  Last time he make a little clockwork faerie that sprinkled yummy smelling powder all over the room.  It had driven Sweets half mad trying to catch it and Angel had chased it to and she ended up covered in vanilla powder.   

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Mister O'Landry told me your intuitions were rarely wrong. My name is Sigmund by the way, I work for msiter O'Landry and have come here on his behalf, he's rather occupied at the moment." He offered a gloved hand, evenhiddem yh its leather cover, his hand looked as if had known the weight of a blade or a gun.

"It's a special type of book!" He handed it to Angel as they boarded a small Air clipper, the name "Jam and cookies" Was painted on the sides, the ship's name had come from Angel, as one who had known her could tell.
As Angel cracked open the tome, the image of a ferocious iron dragon lept out at her, gnashing metal teeth, which caused her quite a jolt. She slammed the book shut out of fear before slowlly reopenign it.
"I call it a pop-out book!" Cain announced with a smile. "It will help parents and children get more aquanted with the stories they read."

[Stella Gaslight]

"Pleased to meet you Sigmund.  I imagine all the new students at Patrick's school must be running him ragged.  I will never know where he finds the energy  than again some of the senior research scientists act like children so maybe I do. "  Emma had noticed she was a bit uncomfortable in her presence and wondered why.

"It is like magic."  She still did not like the dragon but the princess on the next page was pretty and Angel recognized the dress.  "That is my dress from Christmas only you turned it pink.  I like it, maybe I can get Mama 'rachne to make me one.  I have something for you too.  Remember those sweet fizzy drinks we tried in Paris?  Well I found a way to make them in to candy and they fizz and everything."  She handed Cain a wax paper packet with soda water candy written on the outside.

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Mister O'Landry exibits an insurmountable well of energy I'm sure could power sevral royal airship fleets." He said, recalling last year's christmas celebrations in which Patrick literally decked every hall with balls of holly, and assured the jewish students all had menorahs lit and the pagan students had yule logs. Technomancy seemed to touch all creeds and nationalities. Patrick would often tell him it was the love of the use of knowledge for the good of all that united them in their gifts.

Cain popped the candy into his mouth, and was greeted with a literal fireworks of flavor, the likes of which he had not seen since Lin (one of arachne's girls) celebrated chinese new-years with them.
"It'sh fantashtic!" He said, storing the delicious lump of cherry sweetness in his left cheek.
Within moments, the clipper had taken off. It's modest crew of maintainance constructs called metallic orders to eachother in morse code and analouge beeps.

[MWBailey]

After having explained to Helena that the coilgun ("as usual," he said) worked even better than projected, he and Irene sat in the lab, listening to Emma tune the Aether receiver.

Dreyfuss listened to the rhythmic sound on the aether tuner. Yes, it did sound likew a heartbeat, he thought, and if Miss Emma said it sounded like George's heartbeat, that was ok by him. He had missed George a lot, truth be told. It would have been wonderful to have a friendly aether presence in the dock when they came home after a mission.

True, there was Emma, and to some extent Trip, but George had a way of making himself felt all the way across town, and it was an aware presence, not just the footprint of an aether-sensitive person. Which brought him to this newcomer, mr...Sigmund, was it? he seemed to have a similar way about him, but it was more of an alien feeling; it's almost as if the fellow were a Cold One, he thought. He's giving off the same kind of mental itch but that's impossible...isn't it? HE had thiought that they had eradicated the last of the cold ones on this plane. He hoped that the fellow couldn't read thoughts; if he can, you're in deep cobra doo, he thought, remembering then that he had brought her along, and wondering where she had got to....just about then, Cleo slithered back up into his lap, and then up around his shoulders. He was mildly proud that Sigmund seemed somewhat ill at ease at the sight.

"Don't worry, she only bites intruders and pirates," he said, smiling,"so far..."

He reminded himself to write Patrick at some point in the next few days, about the visions he had had during the Boheme voyage, and also the extremely odd ones he was having lately, mainly when he was alone around the dock. He had seen the Ginger Man once, and the fellow was much more congenial this time, but he seemed unwilling to talk for long, especially when Dreyfuss tried to talk to him about where he came from.

"Just how are we going to go and "get" george, Miss Emma? Does the Boheme travel the time-and-space streams as well, now?" Dreyfuss asked, wondering if that were what they were installing in Whitehall...

[Stella Gaslight]

"Not yet but Trip should be putting the final touches on a device to do just that.  He has been totally caught up in the idea of parallel worlds since he proved that time travel was possible.  We will be running the final tests this afternoon but all the prelims are looking very good.  We should be able to launch a rescue mission by tomorrow afternoon at the latest."  Emma was beaming the idea of having George back was lighting her up from the inside.  A green light popped out of the ceiling.  "Oh good Cain and Angel are here.  I was hoping they could take the ship for it's test flight."  She hadn't told them that yet but Emma was very sure they would agree, hell if she didn't have to monitor the first flight she would be on it herself.

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Cain and Angel? The sentient constructs?" Sigmund seemed fascinated at the idea, suddenly he became alarmingly aware of her notions.
"You are going to use such wonderous beings as test subjects? What if they are to crash?"
Cain chuckled wisely, remembering Patrick's concern for his well being and hearing the concerned questions of this newcomer.
"I assure you, sir, Angel and I are very resilient! Has he told you about the time I was struck across the face by a flying shuriken?" Cain walked in, earning a resounding smile from all within the room, Angel's company added to the air of well being, though sigmund's irregular aura raised quite a bit of interest it seemed within Angel.

[Stella Gaslight]

"Don't worry Sigmund I have installed a dead man switch on the main controls. If anything happens they will be instantly transported back here and I have all the tools to patch them up if necessary.  I would never send them out without a full range of safety features."  Angel looked at Sigmund something was very off about the boy. She wandered around him and then smiled. "I know you are like Sweets aren't you?"

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Er...sweets?" He asked, rather piturbed at her curios disposition. He could feel her scanning him with her eyes, an unsettled smile crossed his face, as if his body were trying to tell the rest of him that it would all be okay and that no-one would run after him with torches or heat-round loaded guns.

As Angel examined the newcomer Cain approached Emma.
"So, what terribly dangerous equipment shall I be field testing for you today?" Cain had found a way to add to the funds of "Mama Rachne's" establishment by being one of Emma's test pilots when men of stronger mettle were required, though he knew he should stop, due to Angel's worry.

[MWBailey]

"Sweets?" Dreyfuss blurted out. Sweets? what has that fellow to do with Sweets? Is he part cat--? Ohhh... Dreyfuss thought to himself, reaching under the greatcoat. The silver rounds in his Webley were inscribved, just in case, with heat runes; he had not yet encountered any cold ones since they helped the Makers to destroy the Cold One Queen, but it never hurt to be prepared.

Sweets was a  cat, yes, but he was provided, through graft surgery, cold one implants... Sigmund was a cold one? perhaps even a commodore? No Bloody WONDER I felt that damned itch!Dreyfuss fumed.

"Is Mr. Sigmund here of his own free will?" Dreyfuss asked, his adrenaline shooting skywards...

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Well, I certainly didn't volunteer! Mister O'Landry sent me because he was too busy with his students. He would have sent Jen, but the colonies have comissioned her to create a medicine to combat a strain of smallpox."
Immediately he sensed what Dreyfuss reached for. Making things terribly evident, he reluctantly reached for the miniaturized boxgun Patrick had given him before the trip. He didn't want to hurt this man, but he wasn't about to let him shoot him either!
Cain placed a hand on Angel's shoulder.
"Is he good like sweets, or bad like Brian?"

[E.A. Claringbold]

Irene placed a hand on Dreyfuss’s arm. She might not always be a people person nor was she always sensitively in tune to other people’s feelings and sympathetic, but she knew when things got tense. Gently clearing her throat in a way that could have sincerely and innocently been simply a clearing of her throat and nothing more, she gently tapped on his arm, sending a non-verbal message within the realms of ‘calm yourself’.

[Stella Gaslight]

Angel gave the unsuspecting boy a big hug. "He feels like mama and he has pretty hair."  She said like that was just as important as a full pedigree. 

"If he wanted to hurt us he could have easily stabbed me in the back."  Emma was still very trusting.  She turned to Cain. "Trip finally finished his so called space ship and I want to have you do a quick run before we put it in to service.  It should be far better than the explosive powered rocket thing he wanted to mess with last time."

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss relaxed visibly, coming down off of the balls of his feet; he hadn't actually realized he had gone up onto them.

"Well, if Angel says he's OK, then that's good enough for me, he said, removing his hand, gunless, from his coat and whipping the snarling whitefire back into it's kennel. He placed ahand discreetly on Irene's arm, silently saying, "thank you."

"My Apologies, Mr. Sigmund," Dreyfuss said, trying to be teh soul of contriteness; it didnt seem as if it quite worked, but at least --he hoped -- he was obviously sincere, "I am somewhat protective of my companions, by long habit. I hope I did not perturb you extremely."