Steam and Sand Game Thread

[Mina]

Kat stood, leaning up casually against the side of the 7-7, watching Royce talk their way out of the 'situation'. She didn't want to draw attention to herself, so she stayed a little back from everyone else, saying nothing, but hoping that everything would work out smoothly.

That's when she noticed the man with the goggles, standing a little apart from the crowd. Not many people wore their goggles down inside an atrium. She herself kept hers on top of her head most of the time, having not properly employed them since scavenging in the coal trenches. As if that could be called scavenging compared to what she'd been doing with the 7-7.

So as the events unfolded before her, she paid no mind, keeping a shrewd eye on the strange man who seemed so interested in the 7-7, in a much more quiet, studious way.

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Well dear." Conlan said as he approached her side, shouldering his fire arm. "I would say we have a big day ahead of us..."
He watched as she looked fondly at the children playing.
"But I suppose some socialisation is priority. Maybe you could play for a little bit, then we can go shopping for clothes, eh?"
He gave her an encouraging smile and followed her to the group of children who tossed about a ball made from inflated animal hyde.

[Stella Gaslight]

Playing was something Dear understood there were no words in it, you waited for am opening and jumped in.  Dear jumped in headbutting the ball back as it was about to soar over one of the smaller children.  There was a pause as they checked out this new kid and then the game was back on like she had been playing from the beginning.  Dear shouted happily and threw herself in to the game.  There were mothers off to the side watching all of this and looking over at Conlan with mild interest.  One of them broke the gossip knot and came over to him.  "Were do you and your lass hail from?"

[Nigel Wetherby]

"I am a soldier from  Ireland, this is my young ward. She hails from prussia, we found her in the charred remains of the black forest. Poor girl was all alone. I've been raising her for about a week now."
He looked warmly at her playing, a smile crossing his pale face.
"I am Sir Conlan O'Draigen."
He extended a hand, shaking hers as he watched the children laugh at the addition of the new playmate.
"She likes to be called Dear."

[Stella Gaslight]

The woman smiled warmly, Conlan had passed some test and was deemed worthy.  "Aye she looks like a Dear thing.  I am Martha Cooper pleased to meet you  Sir O'Draigen."   Martha was a warm motherly woman with her hair pulled back in to a brown bun and a physique that spoke of good home cooking. Dear tumbled head over heels going for the ball and tripping on her skirt.  When the dust cleared there was laughter rather than tears.   "The lass needs some boots if she is going to keep on with yea.  My husband is Edmund Cooper he runs the little shoe store down the lane.  I can take yea there if yea want."

[MWBailey]

Having gotten Skinner out of the cuffs, Malc stood back and let Royce talk the rest of the crew and the rig into the good graces of the city officials; he suspected it was a combinatioin of 95 parts Royce's silver tongue and two parts His own incident and reputation, not to mention three parts of the lady clothier's impeccable timing that accomplished the small miracle of Skinner's release. He reminded himself it was vitally important to visit that shop and buy the shirt in thanks for her aid. He looked away from the negotiation, glanced over to see who belonged to the shape that leaned against the rig, wary of people getting too close.

He saw that it was Miss Mina, who had been patching up Skinner's shoulder when he came in to introduce himself more formally the night before, and to meet the rest of the crew. He noted the fixedness of her gaze, and followed her line of sight  until he saw the fellow with the goggles on. It didn't dawn on him immediately, but when it did, he looked back to the fellow, still standing there, still wearing those goggles. his own, square-lensed, hinged tanker's sandstormer goggles hung around his neck like some kind of oddly-designed pectoral decoration. He also noticed the fellow looking at the rig, and his subtle head movenment and sudden halt as he took in Molly, then the Steam Armor.

He turned his good eye back to the negotiations with the officials, but kept his head oriented so that he kept the odd fellow in his peripheral vision. On guard duty with the expedition from York into Scotland to strike back at a band of Scots raiders, he had noted camp followers' and scots gadabouts' behavior when they were about to try to nick in and grab something to sell or to eat, and saw that Mr. Goggles was acting in the same tense, read-to-bolt manner. He mentally cursed the inability to see with his left eye; it would have been so much easier to cover both the conversation in front of him and the fellow off to the side of him at the same time if he still had both eyes... he kept his hand near the Lemat in case the man decided to try something. He looked familiar; was he wanted, or had Malc seen him before someplace, recently?

[Nigel Wetherby]

"That would be excellent. I have also been in the need for some practical clothing. An old dress like that won;t do her much good in the ruins of london."
He watched carefully, making sure she didn't get hurt when she tumbled over. He exhaled a sigh of releif when he saw no blood or scratches on her.
It brought his heart great joy to see her playing. The sensation of joy felt alien but welcome, like a forgotten friend come to visit.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

A little money, some smooth talking, testimony by many of the folk of Brizzle, including Skinner's father and a subtle threat of taking this case to the Knights all worked to get the officials away from the rig - but not before they'd done a thorough check on that steam armour. Royce signals to Skinner who quickly got the whole rig out of sight. He sighed. As they pulled into the hanger, he noticed a goggled figure watching. He kept an eye on him. He could be another bounty hunter or a spy. Maybe Anglian, after the heirlooms. Or maybe from Lancashire, someone out for revenge.

Keeping a tab he went inside the rig. Conlan was out, but Ben was here and he seemed to have most of the books sorted out. Royce paid for some dock workers to lend a hand and some wagons. He wanted this stuff off now.

-----

About an hour later, he returned, having made the rounds to the various contacts and merchants he knew. Everyone was in the vicinity. He took out a bag he was carrying, then took smaller bags, tossing one to Skinner.

"Payday" he said, grinning. "And this is just the tip of the iceberg. By next time we come to Brizzle the payments for all the things I had shipped to Bromwicham should come in. One tenth for each of us - the last two tenths go towards upkeep and repair and supplies. Even all round."

Already men were working on getting the 7-7 back into shape. He hadn't realized how banged up it had gotten.

He thought if there was anything he'd missed.

"Well... don't go blowing it all in celebration, is my opinion. Since we're so wealthy I think we should give the 7-7 some upgrades - Malc and Skinner, if you have any suggestions I'm open. You all just take some time off. You more than well deserve it. I've not yet decided what we try next but... I have some ideas." He fingered the small book he had taken from Wight that was now in his pocket.

"I think that's it... but I have an idea we find a proper restaurant tonight and have a celebratory meal. Not some grub shack - something nice near the center. I'll see you all later."

He had made this abrupt ending for a reason. He walked with long strides to the exit of the hanger, waved, stepped out the door, then sprinted, rounding a corner and catching a goggled figure by the arm.

"Now, good sir." he said to Flint. "Who are you and what's your business. This doesn't have to be unpleasant but I've seen you watching. Why?"

[Skinner]

While Skinner greedily counted the money, shaking the bag just to hear the sheer volume of it rattling around, she wondered aloud in Malc's direction exactly what would be done with Red's share.

"Hrmph. I say, either spread it round fer extra alms, or put it towards new gear fer the rig. Does Molly need anyfink done to 'er? Save that mended rod. Oh! Blimey, that reminds me. Not all this is mine." she hurriedly excused herself, would be 'back in two ticks', and scampered off towards the harbour.

She was greeted at the door by her smirking father, her baneful mother's wet handkerchief to her cheek, and a short little boy- couldn't be older than ten, who caught her leg in a vice-grip hug.
"Auntie Charlie's Home!" He cried, and Skinner smiled a little sadly as her mother ushered her in fussily.
"Just stoppin' in with me monthlies."
And the whole troupe disappeared inside.

[MWBailey]

"Molly's got all the upgrades and repairs she really needs; i built 'er, so I does what repairs needs to be done, save for the 'eavy stuff. she might could use a flush of her flash coils, that's always a pretty good idea.she needs about twelve 35mm shells for the cannon, I 've got about 5000 extra rounds for teh Lewis gun picked up after the batt'le, plus ten pistols, five rifles, a Vickers Machine gun, believe it or not, if'n you wants tae put it somewhere in the middle of the rig. Molly could use a fill-up of her coal bunker, and a fill-up of naphtha, in case we're on a long haul and I need to switch over to lquid firing to conserve coal for the main loco unit.

That bit about the machine gun, the Vickers, that sthe upgrade I'd suggest for the7-7 is some kind of protected gun emplacement for teh middle carriages. That and a Mars headlight for the Loco un-- oh, alright, see you in a bit, then.

After Skinner and Royce left, the hangar and teh rig were daethly quiet, the sounds form outside subdued. Malc walked back the length of the rig, back through the canvas corridor tunnel and in to the APC, shutting the heavy carriage door (usually disused when  the tank wasn't hooked to something else) and checked the naphtha level in the lamp stove in the passenger-side bunk space (which he had converted to a rudimentary kitchen setup, used when it was not practical to fire up the whole boiler and everything). He lit the wick of the stove, and soon had a pot of boiling water for tea, and poured half into another pot, filled a muslin pouch with tea leaves, and put them in the new pot, and then got a piece of sausage ration from the knapsack hanging on the wall, and put it in the first pot, and set it back on the burner, and fished out a smallish potato from the rucksack on the floor along with a tiny onion, both of which he sliced up and put into the pot with the sausage, added some salt , red pepper powder, and some dried leaves of comfrey to the pot, and stirred and simmered the moisture into what soon became a small amount of sausage stew, for luncheon.

"Anybody still on board, I'm not the best cook on teh sands, but I gots sausage stew 'ere, and a pot o' black tea, no tanbark , I swear,enough for me an' maybe two or three more...!" His voice echoed all through the rig, but no one answered. "Jus as well, I guess, since all I got fer a table is 'iss ol crate," he muttered to himself, as he brought the stew and tea to the "table," put a tin plate and tin cup beside the pots, blew out the lamp stove, and opened the ventilation blocks in the turret for air movement's sake. Then, he opened the the corridor door of the APC so that he could hear the rest of the rig if need be, and sat down to a reasonably-good lunch.

[Mina]

Kat relaxed a bit when she saw Royce run after the man with the goggles. She herself decided to go back on the rig and make a little something to eat. She heard Malc's offer, but decided that stew was a bit heavy for her current appetite, and settled on a slice of bread with some cheese. It was then that she noticed that their provisions were getting awfully low, so she decided to head out to get some more.

"I'll be back in a bit, gone to restock the kitchen!" she called out for anyone to hear before jumping off the 7-7 and making her way towards the market.

[Stella Gaslight]

Dear was having more fun than she had in years.  Her shyness had evaporated and now she was running and yelling like the rest of them. They were all piled pn top of each other partly to get the ball and partly for the sheer fun of being in a dog pile.  "Lunch time." Martha called and the pile of children broke up and drifted off to their mothers.  Three children came his way along with Dear.  A sturdy looking girl with curly brown hair, a younger looking boy with hair as black as coal and a small wiry looking girl with brown hair like her sister but stick straight instead of curly.  "These are my wee ones.  Melissa the eldest, Danial my boy and Marta my fighter.  We are going to take this Dear lass to the shop while yea get cleaned up."  There were grumbles from the children.  "Then if yea are good she and her knight could join us for lunch."  Everything was back to smiled and excited chatter.  The children were talking about taking Dear on a tour as they walked to the shop they pointed out things and Dear listened.

When they reached the shoe shop the group split with Martha and the children going in a small alley while Dear and Conlan went in the front.  A barrel chested man with thick black hair looked up from his workbench. "What can I do for yea?"

[Rowland Elmstone]

Flint watched the proceedings. He was curious as to how this crew seemed so well connected, becuase he blinked and it seemed that the girl was out of cuffs, and the hanger was once again empty. He was about to turn, and seep into the shadows once more, when a hand grabbed his shoulder and yank him out of the cove he was in. He was quite shocked since the mans grip was pincer like and the man wasn't much bigger then himself.

He straightend himself up and nodded. He raised his goggles and blinked out the sunlight. Small tan lines were forming where the goggles sat on his face, as well as dirt and grim.

"Meant no offense, was just curious why such a big crew was docking at Brizzle. M'name's Flint...Coghill. Flint Coghill. I am a resident of this fine cesspool. I was also trying to hide from some not-so-well known set of salvagers called the Bermegrave Riggers. They usually don't show their faces in the atrium, but as of late they have been coming closer and closer. I assume well-minded individuals like yourself know how dangerous these salvagers can be. I was also curious of your rig. It is quite interesting. I have my own..well, you can't really call it a rig. It's a steam powered desert runner. I can't be out for long periods, since it tends to not be able to go very far."

He stopped talking then looked back at the man who pulled him from the shadows. "So. You need another pair of hands? I can't offer much, but I can pay you for your trouble." He opened up the great coat which revealed two fishing-net like bags (from before the Event, he learned these were popular, so he was able to find some) filled to the brim with gold antiques.

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Well," Conlan began "My friend dear needs a pair of shoes. You see, we are salvagers by tradeaboard the 7-7. That's the rig that got all the attention as it rolled in. I'm it's military expert and weapon specialist. Dear is a dear friend of mine as well as she is under my protection."
He turned to dear, a warm smile crossing his lips without his knowledge. A blush slowly surfaced.
"Do you think you can provide her with some comfortable, durable shoes, Preferably ones with flat soles?  I doubt she could go very far in high-heeled boots."

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

"Hmm." said Royce. "Here, follow me."

He lead Flint inside a local pub, taking a table in the corner. He paid for drinks - he was pretty wealthy at the moment.

"Now, I do understand your issues with bandits. And such a vehicle as you mentioned may be useful."

He looked over some of the antiques Flint had. Fairly nice, nothing as rare as what they'd taken, but nice all the same.

He paused.

"So, where did you manage to pick those up? How far have you travelled around?"

[Stella Gaslight]

Edmund smiled "Alright then Miss. Dear what do you want to do in your shoes?"  He asked leading her to a worn looking stool and pulling our an odd device to measure her feet.

"Dear likes to run, climb things, play ball and sometimes Dear has to help Conlan fight the bad men."  While she was speaking Edmund was checking his stock and came up with some very sturdy looking boots.

 The door in the back of the shop opened and Martha came in carrying a plate of food for her husband. "The Dear will be needing socks too.  Sir O'Draigen here found the lass alone in the wastes."  

Her husband made a knowing sound and pulled out a pair of hand knitted socks as well.  "Give these a try lass."  Dear got them on and laced up but couldn't figure out what to do with the laces that were left over.  The last shoes she could remember were simple slip ons.

[Rowland Elmstone]

Flint ordered a pint while Royce spoke. He removed his driver's cap and smoothed out his hair.

"Well, about 75 kilometers south, there is a cave. This cave is made out of stone, and rubble, and was pretty much invisible. The rig I was stationed with sent me and my runner down into it, after they spent close to three days digging it up. Rumor has it, it used to be an Airship dock. At the time there was a ship docked there, you know, during the main cause of the Event. I was only able to get down so far into it, before I had to return. HUGE, mind you. The caverns that were created seemed more then man made, if you get my drift. I returned to the surface and the group I was with vanished. I barely got back to the atrium, and had to spend some of the antiques I found to repair my runner. Now that motely group of scavangers have been after me. I guess they are trying to keep the cave a secret. Apparently the shell to the Airship that was docked is still in there...I guess they are trying to hide it."

He shook his head and began to sweat slightly. "If you wish to go, I can take you. We have had some bad storms, but I know the general area of it." He took a sip of his drink and shoved a gold statuette in front of Royce and laughed. "Take this."

[Nigel Wetherby]

Conlan kneeled to Dear, taking up the laces of one of her shoes.
"Alright, this may seem a bit complex at first, but soon it will be second nature."
Conlan began the process of tying the laces of her boots, giving Dear a detailed walkthrough of tying one's laces.
"...and then the rabbit goes down the hole!"
He tightened the lace in a secure bow.
"Now you try."

[Stella Gaslight]

It took Dear three tries and some reminders from Conlan but she managed to tie her boot.  "Look Dear did it!" She beamed with pride and both Martha and Edmund smiled. 

"Good job lass."  Edmund handed Conlan a bill with a figure so low it most likely covered only the cost of materials. 

Martha looked down at her achievement with nostalgia remembering the first time her children did the same.   "Me wee ones won't stop asking for yea.  We are having stew and there is enough to share."

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Congradulations!" Conlan cheered, giving a light applause for Dear's accomplishments.
Upon hearing Edward's Proposal he nodded vigorously.
"Some nice stew would be a very welcome change from thew dried sausage and bread that's aboard the 7-7."
He turned to Dear.
"How would you like to join our new friends for lunch? They are having stew."
Conlan reached into his bag, paying Edward not only the charge, but quite a bit extra.
"For the meal, of course." He explained.

[Stella Gaslight]

"Yes please."  Dear's eyes were bright with excitement.  New shoes, friends and food, this was the best day ever.  They were taken back to a noisy but cozy kitchen.  Martha ladled them out some stew and Dear was soon talking animatedly with the children in between bites. 

Martha herself sat next to Conlan and smiled at him. "It was a good thing yea did taking that lass in.  We have heard stories about those left to the wilds and not all of them happy."

[Nigel Wetherby]

"I did my best." His voice suddenly became a sort of hushed whisper. "It's odd...I've spent years searching for someone I was so terribly angry at for taking my home and my loved ones, but when I found Dear revenge took a back seat. And all that anger and sadness melts away whenever she's happy."
He found himself blushing, he lowered his head, taking a spoonful of meat and carrots into his mouth.
"Uh, good stew Ma'am."

[Stella Gaslight]

"Aye the lord works in mysterious ways."  Martha said with a smile.  "There is a little shop just off the square that caters to salvage folk. Yea should be able to get the lass outfitted there.  Tell Perfecta that I sent yea and she will take care of yea."  She watched as Dear licked the last bit of stew from her bowl.  "I will send some along with yea.  It looks like the lass has a hollow leg."

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Royce looked interested. Out of all the most valuable things to find an airship was at the top. There were only a handful in existence, most owned by governments that were used for research. There were one or two that ran to Ireland or Britain from America. Even if you couldn't get it working, there were plenty of scientists and the like that would pay a pretty penny for even a piece of scrap of one. And if one could get one working... even a small one... he heard that in America they had small pocket airships, more like balloons, that could be attached to a rig, making the best lookout tool possible.

He smiled. "Well, that would seem to be a good offer. We're going to stay in Brizzle in a while for upgrades and relaxation. How about you come along tonight to dinner with the crew? I'll see if they take to you and I can put your proposition in front of them."

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Many thanks ma'am." Conlan said greatfully. He gave a regal bow before taking Dear's hand.

"I beleive Royce will allow us to stay for a few days," He said to dear, watching with delight as her face glowed with happiness.
 
"Is there a place where we might be able to stay for the night? The rig gets awefully brisk during nightfall. And Dear greatly enjoys being with your children, do you think that you might have room for her and I? I will gladly compensate for your time. It's just that I've never seen her this happy when she didn't have chocolate on her face."