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Author Topic: STEAM LONDON: Realms of Aether Game Thread  (Read 129596 times)
Stella Gaslight
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« Reply #1650 on: June 04, 2009, 10:29:39 pm »

"I think I can do one better than the St George. Emma has a prototype firefighter suit aboard.  She was trying to make something that could survive a building collapse and keep saving people.  I can can add some boosts and weaponry." Emma was not going to be happy with her for taking the suit out but it was worth whatever punishment she could meter out to see the look on Pius' face when she won.

Angel looked very confused. "Did I sing bad?" She whispered
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I have a picture blog thinger now
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Nigel Wetherby
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« Reply #1651 on: June 04, 2009, 10:56:53 pm »

"No, of course not, I just think you may be making them jelous. Besides, you want to save your best songs for the emperor don't you?"
He kissed her cheek secretivelt, making it look rather shrewdly as if he were examinging the inside of her ear. He gave Emma an exxageratedly stiff thumbs up.

"So who will be piloting the firefighter suit?" Sigmund asked, searching around for any suits of armor that may have been abandoned that he could "Liberate" If miss Lighton had no other suits of armor or in the event of their being no "unarmored" Category of competition.
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Stella Gaslight
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« Reply #1652 on: June 04, 2009, 11:14:45 pm »

Helena frowned. "Perhaps the St George will be necessary."  She couldn't think of another way but Emma had always told her that it was a wreck and she did not want Sigmund hurt.

"I am glad you fixed that little outburst. I thought I had her properly set up this morning." Emma muttered and many of the performers turned away uninterested in the foreign chatter.  A haughty girl with deep black hair came over to them along with a more timid looking redhead.  "And who might you be?' The raven haired woman asked.
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Nigel Wetherby
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« Reply #1653 on: June 04, 2009, 11:53:00 pm »

"I-am-Cain. Created-by-miss-lighton. Her-first-creation. This-is-Angel. A-fantastic-construct-to-say-the-least."
Cain placed a stiff, yet yeilding hand onto Angel's shoulder.
"And-what-is-your-name?"

"Don't worry, Helena. I've handled tanks and airships of all makes and models. A suit of battle armor is essentially a tank, except with legs! I'll be fine. But we need to make a promise to eachother."
He looked into her eyes with a romantic fondness.
"If one of us loses, the other has to fight to the top to knock that angry little gnome down off his pedestal. Promise?"
He extended his hand, taking hers in a handshake before kissing her and causing a few female spectators to blush or giggle.
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Stella Gaslight
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« Reply #1654 on: June 05, 2009, 12:25:22 am »

The woman smiled "Julieta and this is Allegra" She pointed to the redhead who gave a shy nod. "Have you come hoping to become the emperor's new favorite?" There was a a barb in that question nearly a mile wide.

"Of course."  Helena said with a grin, either way Pius was going down. "Now lets go see if we can figure out how to get registered."
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Nigel Wetherby
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« Reply #1655 on: June 05, 2009, 01:48:59 am »

"we-only-wish-to-preform." He took a step foreward to defend Angel.
"We-have-no-wish-to-become-anyones-favorite. Miss-emma-only-wants-to-show-the-world-what-we-can-do."
The dark haired woman did not sit right with Cain, she seemed nice on the outside, but she reminded him of a dagger with a pretty sheath, beautiful to look at, but undoubtedly sharp.


A sallow man in blue handed out parchment scrolls, rolled up and sealed with red wax. Sigmund was handed one, which he promtply opened.
"I think we won't need it. We've been selected, by decree of the emporer to battle! I guess someone saw our rasw, unbridlef fighting potential." He proudly flexed his muscles.
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MWBailey
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"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #1656 on: June 05, 2009, 03:38:10 am »

"Sigmund, who are you scheduled to battle? mine says Pius Maximus." Dreyfuss said, unperturbed(well, mostly, anyway) and just a trifle suspicious.

Nadya was at once elated and disappointed. She wasn't keen to fight one of those metal monsters, but she wished whoever had made the decision of whom woiuld fight whom had considered her on more than just dancing alone. "just typical, she growled, no one thinks the dancer can fight..."

"We know you can, Corazon," Dreyfuss said, "it might not count for much, but at least you get to take care of Cleo while we're Duelling. Just tell the musicians to play something sultry, and do that talking dance, teaching her as you perform, and she'll follow you and imitate as she's able." He gently handed over Cleo, who said "hhhiisspp!" quietly and snuggled in as Nadya held her multiplicity of albino coils.
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Walk softly and carry a big banjo...

""quid statis aspicientes in infernum"
Stella Gaslight
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« Reply #1657 on: June 05, 2009, 05:13:11 am »

"Or someone is setting us up." Helena said darkly. "My scroll says I have Bellicianus Ecimius. I think he is the stringy looking one with the copper armor."  She eyed him wearily, it looked like he had a very long reach and considerable speed, this would be a very even match.

"Such a quaint dream. I think we are all eager to see what you can do. I wish you good luck." There was a hush Julieta had broken a taboo of the stage and that was as good as a curse to them.  They all backed away and Julieta smiled knowing she had shown them their place. 

Allegra looked shyly at them.  "Brake a leg." She nearly whispered before going back to Julieta's side like a badly treated dog.
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Nigel Wetherby
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« Reply #1658 on: June 05, 2009, 05:54:06 am »

"I've got some bloke named...Absconditus Feralus."
Sigmund said with a bit of confusion, looking around carefully for his competitor. A hunched over figure seemed to melt away from the shadows, sharp gold-colored eyes examined their pale enemy. In the distance, Sigmund could make out a shining quadrupedal suit of armor. The armor resembled a black steel leapord ready to pounce. Sharp steel teeth glistened in the sparse lamplight.
"Oh boy. I think mine is the one that looks like a big steel tiger. I don't see the pilot though. Well...May the best man...woman...half-breed cold one beast..win."

Sigmund watched the dark haired woman walk off. He could sense no ill intent within her, even though she did wish for him to break his leg.
"Angel, maybe we should be careful around that woman..."
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Stella Gaslight
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« Reply #1659 on: June 05, 2009, 06:20:33 am »

"I don't like that other lady, Cain.  I think she is mean."  Angel was frowning she hated it when people hurt one another.

A gray haired lady came up to them looking very grandmotherly. "Welcome dears, it is always nice to see some new faces." Her voice was soft and warm like a pillow and Angel liked it a grate deal.  "Now you will be on after the amazing Aelius and his trained rats. It is very important for you to do your best because one act will be given the golden laurels and marked as the best one in the empire.  Wouldn't that be nice?" Angel nodded She had never gotten a reward for preforming before.


"I think we best go collect our weapons and armor before the battle starts."  Helena was hoping that the prototype could stand up to the harsh trial she was about to put it to.  She started making a lit of melee weaponry she owned in her head, Perhaps that sword that her uncle had given her that she had never grown in to would work especially if she did some fast and dirty engraving.
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MWBailey
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"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #1660 on: June 05, 2009, 06:22:13 am »

"Sigmund, somehow I can't see you failing," Dreyfuss said. "At least you had enough sense to avoid picking a fight with the biggest tank on the field, with nothing but a reforged Spanish straight-saber,  wings gained by mistake, and whitefire that slips its leash more often than not...Hmmp," Drefuss pondered his alternatives for a moment. "maybe the flame body wouldnt be such a bad idea after all..
« Last Edit: June 05, 2009, 06:35:46 am by MWBailey » Logged
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« Reply #1661 on: June 05, 2009, 06:38:31 am »

"Huh." said Esmond, looking through the seeing glasses he had bought from a vendor. "Dancing rats."

Gloria laughed. "You make it sound like it's odd - I saw a fellow looking very familiar to that who ran the same show in Picadilly Circus...I suppose some things don't change."

"Hmm. Looks like Angel managed to get in the queue." he said. Angel looked like she needed to be held back while the audience clapped as the man loaded his rats back up. Esmond was more interested trying to see past the gates to whatever of the battle machines he could. Some of them looked quite frightening, one resembling a black panther, another with wicked looking long copper arms. Esmond looked at the bluish one with wings. He could make out "Icarus" painted on the side. The builder, who he was almost certain was moving like a construct, was helping the pilot in. To his surprise, it looked like quite a young boy. The boy pilot, the construct builder, the far advanced battlesuit - all seemed a bit out of place. Was George in one of them, or connected?

"Esmond, look!" interrupted Gloria. "There's Angel and Cain!"
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"Blessed be Science and her handmaiden Steam;
They make Utopia only half a dream."

"So he pulls an alternating-current taser on me and tells me that only the Official Serbian Church of Tesla can save my polyphase intrinsic electric field, known to non-engineers as 'the soul.' "
MWBailey
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"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #1662 on: June 05, 2009, 07:15:56 am »

Dreyfuss began the process, once again, of making himself angry. It was not a process he liked, so that helped immensely. He thoughtof the Maximus fellow, and that made him angrier still. He felt the goggles on the front of his officer's cap, and pulled them forward, and then down, and finally let them slip back over his eyes; not a moment too soon, for he could suddenly see the reflection of the flames on the inside of the darkly-tinted lenses.

Then he thought of how the little imp would savage Emma and the others without Dreyfuss around, while Sigmund did battle, and then thought of Nadya immurred in the depths of the man's house, a bound slave, forever kept, never allowed her freedom, just because she danced with his snake. And then, Cleopatra, caged as a living trophy, or worse yet, killed and stuffed, or kept in an alcohol-filled tank as a "wonder of the reptilian world."

The flames began to dance in his eyes, and tiny ones began to flicker intermittently , like glitter, all over his coat and uniform. The other fighters and performers were not as shocked as he had expected; they had seen many glittery fighter's uniforms, apparently. HE hoped...but shoved the thought down, and continued to make himself angry enough to burst into flame, withut actually doing so, waiting his turn with the others...

Nadya... I dont mean to be pessimistic, but if I don't survive, please take Cleo back to the Elmo; would you please do that? And don't grieve too much. We might meet again someday.

Dreyfuss? What--? Don't you dare die on me!

I have no intention of dying, Nadya, but this Will be a battle I'm going into. Will youplease do as i asked?

Ohhh...
she growled, Allright. I'll do it. but we wont have to worry about it, because you're going to win, or I'll take it out of your hide!!

Oh, yes, of course, mi Corazon. After all, my hide might be worth something after I'm dead
he chuckled within the link.
« Last Edit: June 05, 2009, 07:25:54 am by MWBailey » Logged
Stella Gaslight
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« Reply #1663 on: June 05, 2009, 07:21:16 am »

Angel was far to honest to make a good actress but she could tell a story quite well. When she herd that the nice old lady had never hear the Milo and Nala story she just had to act it out.  They were stiff at first but when Angel started to sing the audience melted.  There were tears welling up all over as she sung the heart braking aria of the ill and dying Nala wishing only to hold her Milo again.  The audience booed the queen who led him captive and cheered when he was freed,  When it looked like he would be to late the audience gasped and tears broke out again.  When they sang the final song of love there was silence and then as they finished there was a roar of applause so large Emma could feel it in her chest backstage.  She went out to take her bows along with her "creations' the pilot of the Icarus could not take his eyes off off her.
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Nigel Wetherby
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« Reply #1664 on: June 05, 2009, 07:31:03 am »

"We thank you for allowing us to preform, o emperor."  Cain declared in a dramatic flourish. The emporer watched with a smile, his wife lay nestled in his arms, watching the preformance of the dark haired young man. Cain glanced up to see the face of the emporer. He his his best to stifle the shock he at first felt at the sight of the mighty ruler's wife.
She bore a striking resemblance to one Patrick O'landry. He would have to tell Emma this after the preformance.
The emperess whispered something to her dark-haired husband, who stood up and slid the golden laurels off his head, placing them on a satin pillow, which was carried to Emma by a rosy-cheeked young man.

"Righty-o!" Sigmund exclaimed excitedly, following his love to the boheme. Immediately he had begun to search for the saint George, checking every place he thought it likely to hide an armored juggernaut.
When he opened the door to the cargo bay, he found what he was looking for.
The saint George had been updated from its clunky, potbellied tank-like form. Its Cylindrical legs changed into long, equine extremities. The singular drill-arm on the machine's left had been replaced with a whirling pair of drill-like lances. A sturdy tower sheild was mounted on it's right arm, within the sheild was the barrel of a gatling gun. A set of five-fingered hands were at the wrists of each arm.
  And between the machine's "Shoulders" Was a knight's sallet, making the sleekend Saint George resemble some steel centaur. It had become less of a tank, and much more of an exoskeleton, which Sigmund did not seem to mind at all. The less steel between him and his weapon, the better.

  After about ten minutes of loading and re-fueling the bloody thing, Sigmund would be ready.
That was....once he figured out how to get into the contraption.
After another ten minutes of trying to get in through the front, sigmund finally realized he had to get into the suit through the back.
Four loud, steel hoofbeets shook the deck of the boheme as Sigmund attempted to get a feel for this second skin of steel.
« Last Edit: June 05, 2009, 07:35:55 am by Nigel Wetherby » Logged
Stella Gaslight
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« Reply #1665 on: June 05, 2009, 08:04:43 am »

Emma was in shock, when called to say a few words she stammered out and turned bright red. "I um... oh goodness...thank you very much."  Backstage Julieta fumed with rage she would have these worms grovel below her by the time things were said and done. She spoke to an admirer of hers that worked in the guard.  She did not have to ask for anything to be done about them. He took the whole burrden on himself without even having to be asked. The boy pilot of Icarus watched the seen on stage.  Something about that woman was stirring up unfamiliar memories.

Helena knew the prototype quite well and had even milled some of the pieces herself.  It was made for someone a little shorter so it was a tight fit but she found that it moved well enough.  Helena started to write small paper boosters, She knew she would need all the help she could get.
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« Reply #1666 on: June 05, 2009, 08:08:13 am »

Esmond noted the crowd seemed quite happy that Angel had one the golden crown. There was a fanfare of trumpets and the audience quieted. The emperor made a motion and a slave carrying a large device on his back offered a microphone to the emperor, whose voice was clear across the stadium.

"It was honour for me to end the first half of the games by giving the golden crown to the best patron of the arts. There are many of you, however, who are eager for the second half. I still have here the Crown of Iron, and a suitable treasure, for the best patron of battle. We have before us 32 brave warriors and their iron steeds. We shall start by weeding this down to a manageable number. Anyone eliminated in this first round receives no prize at all, not those advancing. Only the 16 tested contestants after this will have the chance to taste gold. I salute all brave warriors of metal, wether in the arena or fighting the hordes in the east. Let the games commence!"

"First match!" yelled an announcer. "From Illyria - the juggernaut Samos! And from Germania, the Rhineghast! To battle!"

Esmond watched in fascination. The gold and rounded shell of Samos trundled forwards on four spinning legs. Two rockets were sparked and flew from it, the German pilot side stepping to avoid a dangerous blow. Then started a battle surprisingly delicate and swift for such large constructs. Samos attempted to crush the smaller Rhinegast with it's fists, firing off ordinance to try and cripple or distract it. The Rhineghast machine had a long trident for one arm, which it pushed and stabbed at the Samos machine. This continued, plates flying off, gears scattering, the crowd roaring. The fight ended quite satisfactorily. Samos managed to catch and snap the arm of the Rhineghast - but the Rhineghast aimed it's other arm, to the surprise and delight of the crowd, shooting a large metallic net that unfolded around the golden construct. The pilot of the Rhineghast tugged and Samos toppled forwards. After that point, it took a severe and crippling pummeling.

"The winner!" cried the announcer. "The Rhineghast! Piloted by the brave Sigmar Gestrasse! Built by the genius mind of Faulker Rossbach! Rhineghast is the winner!"

Soon the games were in full swing. While he had expected brutal gladiatorial games, Esmond was starting to enjoy himself. Even Gloria seemed to be having fun. Metal soldiers stepped up against each other and crashed together, some fights lasting seconds, some stretching on.

"When do you figure one of ours will get to fight?" he asked, staring. "You think Sigmund and Helena got something worked together?"
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MWBailey
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"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #1667 on: June 05, 2009, 09:22:07 am »

One of the guards walked back along the lines of fighters, until he stopped in front of Dreyfuss, adn said, "You're Jason Dryfuzz?"
Dreyfuss said, "thats Jaisen Dreyfuss," with an edge to his voice that could have cold-sliced stainless steel.
"Er...right. now look here, sir, ye're in the wrong line. Where's your Battle suit?"
"Ye're lookin at it," Dreyfuss said, his anger beginning to flow now with this officious fellow's assumption that Dreyfuss was slightly off."where'm I supposed tae be standin'?"

"Er...right over here, sir, this way." as they walked, the guard said "So you really didnt bring a steam suit? What were you goingto fight in, your birthday suit? "

Dreyfuss smiled, one of his frighteningly-mischievous, "I'm-almost-over-the-edge" smiles, and stuck his wings out of his coat and unfurled them, drawing hiws sword, and letting the tiy flames cove rhim, saying "In THIS!" The guard turned around, slowly, insoucuantly, expecting to see a daft old man in an old, rusty breastplate, and seeing instead a figure straight out of legend.

"Sweet mother of--!" The guardwent running around the corner, yelling 'Harrrrryyyyyyyyy, yer no' gonna believe this 'un!", and dragging back teh man whom Dreyfuss guessed was named "Harry," a big, burly fellow  with a shock of gray-red hair. "alroight, alroight! wha's this ye were wantin tae show me?the firstguard pointedat dreyfuss, if anything even more covered in flames.
Dreyfuss yelled, "Never Retreat", and let the fire cover himn over for just a secondbefore scaling it back to the tiny flames. He wasnt sure how he was doing it, but actually he was findingit easyto switch back and forth. between the two states,

Both guards ranoff yelling bloody murder for the arenamaster...
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Nigel Wetherby
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« Reply #1668 on: June 05, 2009, 09:24:01 am »

Sigmund approached Helena, the extra paior of legs behind his own giving Sigmund a bit of a boost in speed.
"Helena, the tournament has already started! Shall we go forth and make that little whelp cry like an infant over out glorious victory?."
He lifted the sallet's visor, kissing the suit of armor's spot where Helena's lips might have been. And with that, the two were off, and Just in time too, Sigmund was up next.

"The winner!" Declared the announcer "The Gladius, Piloted by the hero Pius the great!"
Cheers shook the earth as the white-armored construct raised its sword-arm into the air, shaking more cheers from the people.
"Fifteenth match!" The Announcer cried, his voice growing hoarse. "The silver centaur, hailing from parts unknown, The Saint George!"
Sigmund galloped into the arena, bucking like a mighty stallion as he thrusted his dual lances into the air.
"And his opponent, The dreaded Nemian Lion, created and Piloted by the vicious wild genius of the south Americas...Absconditus Feralus!"
The black beast entered the stage like its more organic predecessors. The Nemian Lion extended menacing claws, which gleamed in the sunlight like dagger blades.
"Come on puss. I'll make violin strings out of your gut!"
Sigmund readied his shield, placing his dual lances behind them in a style enlikened to a roman centurion.
The Nemian lion charged, receiving a faceful of bullets for its effort. The gatling gun released another spray of fire, though the lion was smart enough to dodge, ramming into Sigmund's side and digging fangs into the side of the thick steel panels which served as a sheild and hidden compartment for his weaponry. A powerful back leg from the equine armor sent the feline spinning in the air off Sigmund's sheild, a hunk of the steel barrier was still clasped in the metal beasts' teeth.
Sigmund revved his lances, their drill-like circumferences hissed menacingly.

"Mine is the drill that Peirces the heavens!" Sigmund roared, charging the metal feline and thrusting his lances into it's cranium. Wires and gears littered the sand beneath them, black oil staining the yellow dust.
The nemian Lion's back split apart, a tired looking young man emerged. His dark skin and yellow eyes making him resemble some amalgom of beast and man.
"The winner!" Declared the announcer. "The Saint George and its pilot, Sigmund Ky'Thur!"
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Stella Gaslight
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« Reply #1669 on: June 05, 2009, 04:33:19 pm »

"Sixteenth match!  From right here in Londinium-The Icarus And from Lucentum the Lucadora."  The Announcer seemed quite excited to see this battle and after seeing the Icarus move it was easy to understand why.  It was smooth and fast taking his opponent by surprise and driving his silver armor almost in to the wall.  The Lucadora struck back lowering the masive set of horns on his head and running at the Icarus.  For a moment it looked like the Icarus would be lost but right as the Lucadora was posed to strike the Icarus shot off in to the heavens leaving his opponent to crash in to the wall. The battle was over and the Icarus had won without having to attack.  "The winner is Gaius Lucretius and The Icarus. The crowd screamed and stamped for their obvious favorite.


"Seventeenth match!" The Announcer cried curious to see how this woman would fair.  "From Narona the Sinister and hailing from parts unknown The Proteus."  Helena looked odd with paper strips hanging of her armor and a rather over sized sword.  Her opponent was in a suit of copper armor with curious jointing. She did not understand what that could possibly be for until the thought she had dodged just out of range of punch only to have the arm of the suit reach out and connect with a hard force.  Helena was put on the defensive blocking what she could and trying to doge anything that made it through.  I have to narrow his reach a little. she thought and then looked at the hand triggers and smiled.  The next time the Sinister went in for a punch she fired the suits fire killing foam. It gummed up his works marvelously and brought his armor to a standstill.   Helena simply knocked him over and helped the smiling dark skinned man from his suit and gave him a small vial of liquid that would met the foam away quickly. Bellicianus Ecimius thanked her and Helena found herself liking him quite a bit.  He reminded her of some of the dock rats she used to run with.
"The winner!" Declared the announcer. "The Proteus and its pilot, Helena Thomas!"

Julieta smiled coldly as Emma, Angel and Cain came back stage.  She knew as soon as they left trouble would fall upon them like a sudden storm and they would regret ever coming to this place.
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MWBailey
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rtafStElmo
« Reply #1670 on: June 05, 2009, 05:38:36 pm »

IT was Dreyfuss turn, now, the match master and the arena maste r having concurred there was nothing in the rules that said an unsuited man could not face a suited one. One problem, however; Dreyfuss was still not angry enough to go to the full flame being.

"Eighteenth Match!" The announcer roared, "The Gladius, Piloted by Pius the hero, and from Orkney--" there was suddenly whispering and some sort of dispute beyond the range of the microphone. "er, Dreyfuss, the White Flame Warrior!"

Pius stepped out first, the machine warrior brandishing its sword like a conquering Titan, the crowd going wild and throwing roses and rosepetals and daisies and whatnots.

Then Dreyfuss stepped out. The crowd grew much quieter, seeing no large construct or suit of armor, just a gray-haired middle-aged man covered in what looked like flames (but of course that was silly, nobody could wear fire!), and carrying a largish, but not terribly threatening, by comparison to Pius's --sword.

Then came the jeers and laughter; then came Dreyfuss, shocked in disbelief at the rudeness of the laughing people, and then the final straw -- an irritating voice from midway up in the stands(it's always like that, just one high-voiced, nasally-over-endowed voice sets the apple cart teetering over)saying, "whats the matter, grand-pa, you forget your weskit?" and teh wild laughter at the wag, and then the rage started up in earnest, and suddenly the crowd roared in disbelief, horror, and in some cases terror, when the flames suddenly engulfed Dreyfuss -- but he didn't burn to a crisp, merely growing a couple of feet taller, and boomed out in a voice that echoed without having to raise it, "Appearances often deceive-- NEVER SURRENDER!!"

Pius was not about to be upstaged and yelled "oh, I'll make you beg to surrender, old fool! take that!" and the huge metal mountainside that was the Gladius' sword smacked Dreyfuss back against the wall like a tennis ball -- but Dreyfuss did not splatter, or bounce off -- he impacted into the stonework. The crowd quieted suddenly, and then Nadya started shouting GET UP! GET UP, COMODORO!!! She almost sounded as if she were grieving.

Dreyfuss got really angry, then. To think they thought him to be defeated already! His steel sword having fallen from his grasp on impact by the giant sword, Dreyfuss emerged weaponless (well, except for the whitefire), to the wild cheering and, in some cases, utter consternation of the crowd., and met Pius' attempt to step nearer and repeat the performance, with what looked like a huge fist of whitefire, that smashed into the Gladius' head portion, and knocked the machine head-over-heels down such that half of it was draped over the far (spectatorless, thankfully) wall of the arena -- but struggled back upright again.

To no avail, as it turned out, for Dreyfuss poked out and opened his wings, and swept them down flatfooted, as he had seem some large raptor birds do, and launched himself like a missile straight into the breastplate of the huge machine. The impact knocked it down again, and Dreyfuss extended the flame-sword, curly bits on the guard and all, Jumped on to the breastplate, and swiped a huge, slashing cut from the nose to the groin of the mechanical warrior. He then hauled the diminutive Pius out by one arm, even as he slashed away at Dreyfuss, who gently set the man down and then dropped the flames. He faced Pius in nothing but his uniform, then, wielding nothing but the newly-reforged steel sword, which he had picked up when He dropped the flame being. "I'd say we're about evenly matched, now," said Dreyfuss, and Pius simply snarled, and launched himself forward, clearly intending to skewer Dreyfuss on his shortsword.

It was just like old times against the Clown Commodore in the Hindu Kush; Dreyfuss sidestepped,. letting the little man pass, and brought his right fist up and tollchocked the fellow on the point of the chin with his sword-guard, knocking him senseless!

Dreyfuss grabbed the fellow, shook him awake, and put the edge of his sword under the man's throat. "Do you Yield?!" He demanded.
"I Yield! I Yield!" The man screamed, in total abject terror of the crazy old magician, as he thought of him. at that moment.

"The Winner!" crowed the announcer, "The White Flame Warrior, Dreyfuss of Orkney!"

The crowd, Nadya, and others went wild... but a few went to the referees, who then went to the emperor, to ask his help in deciding a matter of technology versus wizardry...
« Last Edit: June 05, 2009, 05:47:58 pm by MWBailey » Logged
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« Reply #1671 on: June 05, 2009, 06:11:29 pm »

"Think he'll get disqualified for that?" asked Nadya.

"Probably...I don't know what the rules on magic are." he said. "But we at least got to see that cad get the stuffing knocked out of him."

He peered over. Once the tournament had gotten down to 16 contestants they had placed their names on a tourney board. Two matches, including this...interesting one had just taken place.  Winners of these 8 rounds would go to the quater finals it seemed. Dreyfuss had beaten Pius (if it counted). The round before, an axe wielded one he had seen from Iceland had managed to beat a rather dangerous looking spiked construct from Russia.

"Match Nineteen!" He heard called. This was a match for Icarus. Esmond didn't focus too much on the opponent, a six legged thing driven by a rather aggressive Gaul. He focused carefully on Icarus, right when it zoomed low across the arena for a quick win. The thing much be using ridiculous amounts of energy to take off, but there was barely any steam emitting from it.

He checked the scoreboard as Icarus was advanced. Sigmund was on the other division of the tourney - but he saw that Helena and Dreyfuss were on the same side. Depending how it ran, they'd have to face each other - or eventually that Icarus.

"Match Twenty!" was called and he contined to watch.
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« Reply #1672 on: June 05, 2009, 06:58:38 pm »

Match Twenty! Said the announcer Johinsa the Cold Vs.... The Prisoner Thomas Taylor

"What?" Emma Exclaimed and they all rushed to see Trip walk out into the arena  wearing a borrowed set of old armor He was grinning rather largely
Across the ring a man in steaming armor covered in frost approachedd. The arena seemed to grow colder as the man walked.
 The crowed was quite, they had learned from drafuss not to underestimate under armed opponents.
« Last Edit: June 05, 2009, 07:00:11 pm by T.Taylor the Third » Logged

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« Reply #1673 on: June 05, 2009, 09:16:02 pm »

Nadya was content. She had not won the Golden Laurel for dancing, but she had attracted quite a few interested parties, one or two of whom had actually stepped out on the stage and danced with her and Cleopatra, after the novelty of a snake that (who?) danced almost as well as the Dancing Gypsy Girl wore off somewhat. Nadya had stood just still enough, and held her hand down to let Cleopatra "dance" up her arm and around her shoulders, settling in on hers just the way Cleo liked to settle on Dreyfuss' shoulders, and then started to try and get the audience to participate.

In the end, she won many applause, and while no golden laurel was given to her, she did get quite a tidy little consolation prize in gold. She went backstage to rejoin Emma and the others after her performance, having made quite an impression on the spectators and dance aficianados.

"Well, what do we do now?" she asked breathlessly, just before the trumpets were sounded and The Emperor raised his hand for attention.
-<o>-
"Dreyfuss of Orkney! you may approach the Emperor!" the voice of the announcer boomed out over the crowd.

Dreyfuss was "allowed" to approach the throne; that is to say, he marched like a prisoner in the midst of a four-man square of guardsmen, who escorted him to the emperor, lest he take it into his head to attack the throne (HE wouldn't of course, unless his friends and crewmates were threatened, but they weren't, so he didn't. But the Londinians insisted on the guard escort).

When they finally arrived, he was told to kneel, which he did, and then the Emperor himself told him to rise, and receive his judgement; the slave with the microphone and amplifier was brought near, and the emperor proceeded...

"Dreyfuss, said to be of Orkney," the emperor said, sounding grand and yet adding a note that said he didnt believe a word of teh "Orkney" tale,  "You have prevailed against our doughtiest fighter, and his most wondrous suit of steam armor, and thus have won the favor of the Imperium; however," and his face became grave, "although you have indeed taught us, and I mean both the royal and the collective sense," he raised his voice just slightly for empahasis so that the crownd would not fail to hear it, "that one should not judge by appaerances alone, you have also violated a basic striucture of teh competition: the building and testing of steam armor constructs. Wwe therefore giove you the consolation of the medal for valor an dresourcefulness, and offe ryou the boon of leaving the arena with your person and posessions intact. how say you?"

"Sire, your judgement is unerring, replied dreyfuss, " and I will abide by it."

"Well said!" Guards, perform your office! and Dreyfuss:if you ever do gain a suit of steam armor, we at least shall be most interested in your performance -- on another day..."

And thus,Dreyfuss was escorted from the premises.
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« Reply #1674 on: June 05, 2009, 09:38:49 pm »

Emma was shocked and confused by Trip's sudden appearance.  "What are you doing? You will be killed."  Something pricked the back of her neck and she fell out cold.  The guards took her away saying it was the heat and feminine weakness  but Angel followed wondering what was going on.
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