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Author Topic: The Extended Steam Salon  (Read 108843 times)
MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
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United States United States


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

rtafStElmo
« Reply #400 on: June 26, 2009, 06:10:10 am »

MW was no stranger to dowsing and other such psionic pursuits. Some level of psionic ability usually manifested itself in those who travelled through time and space over long periods of time. Such as Intuition. Not just normal, mundane intuition, but seeing-the-train-jumping-the-track-in-time-to-save-everybody-alongside-the-track intuition.

Which was what happened now. Brantley's head suddenly snapped up, he suddenly exclaimed "aw, CRAP" under his breath, and dove toward the wheel and spun it, hard, just as a huge ocean liner went past out in the threadspace, missing the side of the Beau Rosin by mere millimeters, heading in the opposite apparent direction. Something big must be happening in London or in England somewhere, involving an Ocean Liner, in order for the manifestation of the entire liner to occur in threadspace; normally, only timeships materialized in threadspace, but sometimes the components of a major disaster or other event flashed through due to their pivotal position in the overall scheme of the event.The rest of the merry crew were glad to be alive, if somewhat miffed at MW for such an abrubt change in direction.

"Sorry, folks. I wasn't expecting to meet a huge liner in mid-threadspace," he said.
« Last Edit: June 26, 2009, 03:14:46 pm by MWBailey » Logged

Walk softly and carry a big banjo...

""quid statis aspicientes in infernum"
Sgt.Major Thistlewaite
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Gibraltar Gibraltar


I am, therefore I think.


« Reply #401 on: June 26, 2009, 07:00:50 am »

Tommy nearly pitches over the rail as the Beau Rosin heaves hard to port. "What the..." A huge liner hurtles past, barely missing the ship. "An ocean liner..in th' air..above London?!? That doesn't make the least bit of sense...but it's about par for th' course. I'll never get th' hang o' this time travel stuff." He reaches into the front pocket of his new cover-alls, and pulls out the pack of smokes...



..and lights one with his old Zippo. "Well, at least we got a case o' these..always thought Camels were th' best smokes on th' planet..learn somethin' new every day." Smoking the Turkish Oval, T.E. lapses into thought. Lately, it seems he's been learning too much new..and he's still not even sure how many days it's been since he first pushed the door open and walked into that Salon behind the Cocktails sign. He is glad he met Abiliegh Cross-really glad. He hasn't felt like this about a dame since..well, never.Even the gal he used to be married to..they got married because they'd gone steady through high school, and it just seemed like the thing to do next. Probably why it didn't last..not that the long hours of being a beat cop in a tough town had helped. He takes a drag off the excellent cigarette, blows out a cloud of smoke. "Hope we both survive..I'd sure like a chance ta grow old with her..." He pushes off the rail, and walks over to the helm. "Hey, MW...maybe we'd better bring this boat back inta phase and just land on th' roof, and wait fer th' Prof and Stormy..I'd rather take a chance on gettin' spotted than ta get run over by an ocean liner."
Logged

Yet well thy soul hath brooked the turning tide, with that innate, untaught philosophy,Which, be it wisdom, coldness, or deep pride, is gall and wormwood to an enemy.
MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


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

rtafStElmo
« Reply #402 on: June 26, 2009, 08:45:33 am »

"Believe it or not, Tommy," MW said, panting from having hit the deck a bit harder than he intended, "it's ...actually safer in threadspace even if it were full of ocena liners, than just sitting out on the roof ; its night on impossible for somebody in realspace to shoot  or otherwise harm us while we're in threadspace. besides, we're almost back to where We pick 'em up."
Logged
OldProfessorBear
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Werebears RULE!


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« Reply #403 on: June 26, 2009, 09:25:59 am »

The Professor, "Mr." Storm, and their new recruit returned to Mornington Crescent as the fog once again settled on London.

While only a relatively few minutes had passed for the occupants of the spectral airship, several hours had gone by in the outside world.

It had been a busy day, what with first awakening and explaining matters to the new man in his rooms in Mornington Place,  then travelling to the Bank by Tube and making the Baron's deposit. It took some of the Professor's special skills learned in the Orient to make the transaction go smoothly; a thousand pound sterling note was not exactly small change, even there. "Applied nullology," he explained. "I arranged matters so that the Bank staff saw and heard, not me, but what they thought was the Baron himself."

There followed tea, some curious purchases in several very obscure shops, and a hurried luncheon. Then the Tube back to Mornington Crescent, a short walk to their new colleague's rooms to pick up the bulkier parcels that had been delivered there, as well as some of the occupant's personal effects. Then tea, and the return to the station, each pushing a cart disguised by a tarpaulin which was not. They quickly ducked into a back alley behind Mornington Crescent Station.

"Back the way we came, 'Mr.' Storm, and hope the rope we left hanging there hasn't been discovered," which was unlikely, as the Professor had applied some practical nullology to it, and no one could see it. "Storm," he grinned, "suppose you shinny up there first and winch down a pallet so both of us old geezers can load and then get a ride up. How about it?"
« Last Edit: June 27, 2009, 07:36:18 am by OldProfessorBear » Logged

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The Abiliegh
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Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« Reply #404 on: June 26, 2009, 03:06:42 pm »

She didn't seem to notice the lurching of the Beau Rosin. Something held her to her seat while she dowsed, sheer force of will, perhaps. From looking on, it was impossible to tell.

The necklace also acted contrary to the throwes of the boat. It circled and searched, moving moving with a life of it's own. Once they straightened, the pendulum started circling around the later parts of the timeline, bout 1950 or so. She put the necklace down, and made a more specified list. Dowsing that, she finally got an answer. 1952. He was in 1952.

When she pulled forward her world map, she hardly had to focus. The locket nearly jumped out of her fingers, poiting directly lo London. Anyone looking could tell that something else was going on. Ther was no circling, no X, just the necklace, holding stright at a 45 degree angle...

It unnerved her, and she dropped the necklace, the loud clattering pulling her back into the world around her. She saw the ocean liner in the not-to-distant distance, and after blinking a few times, she decided that, strange as it was, it had to be real.

Standing, she moved over to the rest of the group. "He's 'ere..." She paused. "Max is 'ere, he's just not now. We'll have to hop to the future a bit. 1952."
Logged

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MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


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

rtafStElmo
« Reply #405 on: June 26, 2009, 03:29:06 pm »

Brantley brought the ship out of threadspace just as 'Mr.' Storm came up the rope, and started setting the 'jumperfor 1952, in the present dimension (there were 300 possible dimensional settings, each with at least five hard-wired permutational adjustments) MW had seen the compound angle of the dowsing locket, and asked, "Is he right under us, here? or , say... He ticked off degrees in his head ...two miles to the east? in a tube tunnel, maybe?
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The Abiliegh
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United States United States


Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« Reply #406 on: June 26, 2009, 03:39:57 pm »

Brantley brought the ship out of threadspace just as 'Mr.' Storm came up the rope, and started setting the 'jumperfor 1952, in the present dimension (there were 300 possible dimensional settings, each with at least five hard-wired permutational adjustments) MW had seen the compound angle of the dowsing locket, and asked, "Is he right under us, here? or , say... He ticked off degrees in his head ...two miles to the east? in a tube tunnel, maybe?

She nodded. "Not directly under us... no... though a tube tunnel is damn intunitive. I think we ought to follow it. Divinin' L rods would be helpful... Do you have any brass lyin' about?"

She watched as Ms Storm came onboard. "Where's the Professor? Did everything go alright?"
Logged
fireheart storm
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Monster hunter, researcher, & cyberjacques's rival


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« Reply #407 on: June 26, 2009, 03:56:22 pm »

Ms Storm followed The Professor remaining mostly silent, impressed by the maneuvering at the Bank.  What really interested her was when they started walking into small shops.  In one particularly secluded shop she wandered in the small shop as the Professor and his friend took care of their needs.  She picked up a dust leather volume.

"That belonged to some hot shot monster hunter century or so ago,"  A young man about her age said.  Ms storm looked up surprised by his sudden appearance.

"Hello to you to," she muttered, opening it, looking over the detailed drawings.  this was fantastic...

"Take it," he said with a grin "It belongs with the likes of you,  Don't worry 'bout buying it.  Doubt the old bat even remembers she has it.  Call it a gift, and come see me some time.  Being stuck in here with an old woman is tiresome,"

"Thank you," Ms Storm said holding out her hand  "Mr Storm, if it pleases you or not."  The young man laughed and shook her hand

"Robert, just Robert.  Drop by here any time, always here," he said  "you should go, your friend is leaving,"  Ms Storm quickly thanked him and ran out after the Professor.

When he asked her about climbing up the rope she gave him a wicked grin, tucking the journal into her shirt, "Sure thing, wont take two shakes of a lambs tail,"  she climbed up the rope saying as she pulled herself on deck "Professor says he needs you to winch down a pallet, he's got an extra man and some packages,"
Logged

The Abiliegh
Zeppelin Admiral
******
United States United States


Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« Reply #408 on: June 26, 2009, 08:48:08 pm »

She hurried off to bend her rods into place, once Brantley confirmed he had the proper materials. The boys lowered a pallet for the professor and his new accomplice, and soon everyone was onboard once more.

With the Beau Rosin now on course for 1952 and 2 miles to the east, the group was able to inquire as to just whom had been brought along for the adventure.

She approached the Professor and the man, eyeing their packages with suspicion. "What is going on here?" It was obvious she didn't care which of the men answered, so long as she got a response.
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Miss Cheshire Cat
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« Reply #409 on: June 26, 2009, 10:20:50 pm »

Note: I've kept up with this for a while, and have wanted to join but have not managed to find a place to butt in. By all means, if this is intrusive or rude, simply ignore it, and I shall watch the story commence from the sidelines.

In 1952, London, a young girl is shoved out of a building.
"And stay out!!!!" A shout follows her, and the door slams. The girl gathers the various cards and items from the ground, and unceremoniously stuffs them back in her pockets. She brushes off her baggy bants, glares at the door and walks slowly away. Muttering insults under her breath, Evelyn looks toward the sky and hopes for an intervention of any sort.
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I apply my personality in a paste- Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
The Abiliegh
Zeppelin Admiral
******
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Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« Reply #410 on: June 26, 2009, 10:24:16 pm »

sidebar: Welcome Miss Cheshire! Glad you're enjoying us enough to want to jump in Smiley
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Miss Cheshire Cat
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« Reply #411 on: June 26, 2009, 11:21:58 pm »

Thanks, and the story has been great so far! Love to see where it goes from here.
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OldProfessorBear
Zeppelin Overlord
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Werebears RULE!


WWW
« Reply #412 on: June 27, 2009, 05:32:35 am »

[sb: Note: The Professor ought to fill in some of the gaps in his previous contribution, either by going back and editing or via flashback or, probably, both. He was rather done in at the time, and begs your indulgence while he updates the sketchy narrative. ... i.e., I was trying to get everything in before conking out, so I cut many corners ... OPB]
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The Abiliegh
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United States United States


Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« Reply #413 on: June 27, 2009, 05:46:39 am »

sidebar: take your time dear, I know I, for one, will be rather busy over the weekend, and will only be checking in periodically! If you go back and edit, could you give us a list of what you changed, for ease?
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OldProfessorBear
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Werebears RULE!


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« Reply #414 on: June 27, 2009, 08:10:59 am »

note added material and a little rewording at http://brassgoggles.co.uk/forum/index.php?topic=16338.msg365690#msg365690

The Professor looked round at the assembled company, and proceded to respond to Mrs. Cross's angry query.

"Gentlemen and ladies," he said, with a wink in 'Mr.' Storm's direction, "the Bank deposit is made and I have taken the liberty of adding to our number a fellow who I believe will be extremely helpful in our undertaking. May I introduce 'Bertie', as we shall call him, a fellow SONNABITS of mine."

Someone gasped. "What?!" came from the group.

"Forgive me! 'Bertie' and I are fellow members of the Society Of Nullologists and Nullologians, which has recently amalgamated with the British Institute of Temporal Scholars -- hence S.O.N.N.A.B.I.T.S. I am a Nullologist, specializing in practical applications of nullology and its implications for science and technology, while 'Bertie' is a most accomplished Nullologian, whose studies have taken him well into the esoteric realms, as well as ... well,  I won't go into that right now. 'Bertie' has long kept secret rooms just here in Mornington Place, though his residence of record is some small distance from here. Storm and I are sworn not to reveal his true identity until he gives us leave to do so," the Professor continued.

"The parcels contain ... apparatus ... which may aid us in our endeavor. The steamer trunks belong to 'Bertie', whom we had to kit out for this expedition as best we could. 'Bertie'?"

'Bertie', wearing huge smoked glasses above his bushy mustache, cleared his throat and spoke. "Well. I am not much of a man of action, but I believe I can be of use to you, and for reasons of my own believe I am obligated to do so. Incidentally, please don't get the impression I am a clothes-horse! The second steamer trunk" -- he opened it, revealing some peculiar optical apparatus and shelf upon shelf stocked with metal reels -- "contains a complete reference library, reduced by a close associate of mine onto a special kinematiscope film. The devices in there are used to read it, and if necessary to make paper copies of whatever pages may be wanted. I've selected the reels of film specifically for this, er, venture, and I hope they will prove valuable.: He gestured uncertainly, saying, "Well ... that's about all ..."

« Last Edit: June 27, 2009, 08:13:48 am by OldProfessorBear » Logged
OldProfessorBear
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Werebears RULE!


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« Reply #415 on: June 27, 2009, 10:28:24 am »

I am thinking we need a genuine Brit to operate 'Bertie', though I guess anyone will do ... Any ideas on how to conscript recruit someone for the role?
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MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


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

rtafStElmo
« Reply #416 on: June 27, 2009, 04:06:55 pm »

THUMP!!!THUMP!!!...THUMP!!!THUMP!!!...THUMP!!!THUMP!!!...

"DAMN! Already." Brantley muttered as the ship went through the throes of another causal anomaly "looks like this is just about it, folks," he said. Then, the bottom dropped out of his stomach, as FIVE other blips, pulsing frenetically, (indicating timeships of varying types, judging by the differences in pulsing speeds, and just possibly one starship -- he only knew the pulse pattern by rumor; very few people had ever seen a martian cruiser (actually the same size as the Scow, but heavily armed), and in fact most denied that there could be such a thing, since they carried out most of their invasions via cylinder barrages).

"Holy --!"
"people, arm yourselves! might even want the pressure suits. I'm not sure how they're maintaining position, but there are five other timeships AND a Martian cruiser out there!"I'm arming the weapons system." He pulled the newly-installed lever that sent power to the guns and the Gatling motor, but kept the ship just slightly out-of-phase with the Tube.

They could see people scurrying about just ahead, some already firing at The out-of-phase Beau Rosin (and thus making no impact upon her... but they would find out how easily she could make
an impact on them in short order).

"Mrs Cross, now would be a good time to make an exact determination, " Brantley said as he foirced his way into a suit, leaving the helmet hinged open, and holstering both the New Mauser and the S&W outside on each hip. "I'd hate to go chasing all ove rthe underground trying to find teh cap'n. If anybody knows how to throw fire or make psionic darts, they might come in handy. No? Well, no worry, slugs and exploding ordnance usually work pretty well. Everybody grab at least one grenade." he thrust  two guns at the New Man, a Broomhandle Mauser and a Gatling Carbine. "take yer pick, or take 'em both young Fellow..."

Awhite streak blasted by the Blimp as the Martian cruiser got into the act, and Brantley slewed the Blimp around athwart the tunnel and began blasting away at the cruiser with the deck guns and the Gatling; it was much easier to do so, now that it was all electrified. there was an explosion, a massive one, and the cruiser fell to the floor of the tube, wedging itself into the rail pit.the cruisers smaller guns kept firing, sporadically.


Sidebar: I said this evening, but i couldnt resist adding this in. hope it doesnt screw anything up. 'bye now, back in the PM. --> Might want to let somebody NPC the New Man or take him on as a second character.
« Last Edit: June 27, 2009, 04:11:44 pm by MWBailey » Logged
OldProfessorBear
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United States United States


Werebears RULE!


WWW
« Reply #417 on: June 27, 2009, 05:38:06 pm »

[It does seem a little bit early for this action to occur, but I guess we can work with it somehow. On a lighter note, has anyone sussed the identity of the mysterious 'Bertie' (who, BTW, is middleaged, not a young fellow)? Please answer YES or NO only!]

[Actually, I note I have a sidebar post preceding the aforementioned action scene, which I could convert to narrative if desired ... hmm.]
« Last Edit: June 27, 2009, 05:40:17 pm by OldProfessorBear » Logged
Miss Cheshire Cat
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« Reply #418 on: June 27, 2009, 05:52:11 pm »

Evelyn frowned, then realised what was happening. Someone was traveling time, and they were doing it right above her head.

"I'm going to be rid of these people finally", she said under her breath. She ran down an alley, grabbing a small carpet-bag that was hidden behind a pile of trash. Keeping an eye on the strange sight, she pulled out a wooden clock with many brass dials. She twirled a few, tapped a few buttons and closed her eyes. In a flash, the alley was deserted, and there was no trace of the girl who had been there.
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Sgt.Major Thistlewaite
Zeppelin Admiral
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Gibraltar Gibraltar


I am, therefore I think.


« Reply #419 on: June 27, 2009, 10:36:30 pm »

"Jeez Louweez!!" hollers Tommy, as the Beau Rosin suddenly slews around sideways. Brantley's yelling something about arming yourselves and pressure suits.."They're too far aft, an' I'm too far forward," thinks Tommy, and he launches himself towards the starboard rail, rolling and sliding, narrowly missing the doors opening from the deck as the Gatling comes up. He fetches up hard against the starboard gunwale as the airship heels again, and manages to roll over to his gun cases. At this point, for the first time he notices that there are now three instead of two, the new one long and narrow. Keeping hs head down, hunched against the gunwale, he pops the latches, muttering, "Lessee what we've got here..." Inside is the strangest rifle..if it is a rifle..that Tommy has ever seen, and a note, which he grabs, and hurriedly reads, wincing as gunfire, explosions, and some sort of white ray lights up the scene around them.

"Dear Nephew,
Just a short note to say it was good to see you again, and to explain the workings of this weapon.
The boys down in the R&D department were loath to part with it, as it is our only working prototype, but I insisted, and so here it is. What with the time traveling and all, you are more likely to encounter the Martian invaders before I shall, and as this has been specifically developed to deal with them, you, dear nephew, shall have the privilege of field-testing it. Please excuse the fact that it is not up to our usual standards as regards fit and finish, but understand that it was bolted to a test-bed until the wee hours of this morning. It is a Molecular Obliterator By Intense Ultraphotonic Stimulation, which the 'lab-rats' refer to as 'The Mobius Gun." It has only been fired three times, and those under laboratory conditions.
Whether you are in or out of phase, and regardless of shielding, it should suffice. Aim and fire it as you would any ordinary rifle, but mind the backblast..don't shoot at anything closer than fifteen meters.
Good Luck, Lad!
T.E. Thistlewaite"
It has a stock and pistol grip, but otherwise it is completely unfamiliar..where the barrel should be is a long tube which appears to made of solid glass, but there is a large metal tip on the firing end. "In for a penny, in for a pound," thinks Tommy, and heaves himself up, balancing the unwieldy gun on the rail.
The Martian vessel is grounded on the floor of the Tube, but still firing the strange white rays, so Tommy decides to test the weapon on that. He puts it to his shoulder, and presses the firing stud. A high pitched, ear-splitting whine begins, and rises in pitch. Tommy feels static electricity building around him, and ball lightning spontaneously generates in the air around him, then explodes, and, as the pitch rises out of the range of human ears, a blue-white bolt of pure energy leaps from the muzzle of the gun and lances into the hull of the Martian cruiser. The very air around it crackles and boils, and lightning bolts fly from the beam, grounding on the floor, walls, and ceiling of the Tube.The area of the hull struck by the beam illuminates, gives off blue lightning of its own, then evaporates. The blue webs of lightning spread rapidly to the rest of the craft, which also illuminates, and vaporizes. Within a split second, the entire Martian Cruiser is gone, completely obliterated, along with a bowl shaped area of the tunnel floor.
"Good Golly!" exclaims T.E. The strange rifle produced no kick at all, but every hair on Tommy's body is standing at attention, and his skin feels like it's covered with ants. A few stray six inch balls of lightning wander around, then explode harmlessly. The air smells like ozone. "Well, it works!" he says, and turns it toward another of the opposing craft.
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MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
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United States United States


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

rtafStElmo
« Reply #420 on: June 28, 2009, 04:18:57 am »

"Holy--!" Brantley said for the second time that day, and shouted out the door, What inna hell IS that thing--and Where can I get one!
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Miss Cheshire Cat
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« Reply #421 on: June 28, 2009, 05:15:02 am »

Evelyn landed on the floor of an airship cabin, slightly disoriented. Her father's device always did that, and she often imagined that other methods of time-travel would be- smoother. She drifted off into memories, and sadly thought of her parents.

Disgusted with herself, she shook her head and stood up. Smoothing her pants, she realised something was very wrong here. Unlike the time-travelers that had followed her for years, this ship was the victim of an attack. A glimmer of hope appeared, as they might be fighting the very people she was, and any friend was welcome these days. Over the sounds of battle, she could make out the shouts of several people.

These were certainly not the people chasing her.
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MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
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United States United States


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

rtafStElmo
« Reply #422 on: June 28, 2009, 05:48:47 am »

Brantley had gotten up from a crouch by the wheel (the 'jumper had hit one more anomaly bump, an had knocked him nearly to his knees, HE had run out on deck, broomhandle Mauser and  S&W blazing away at the ground-pounders still trying to rush the blimp, and then had crouched down beside the starboard gunwale, pulled a stripper clip from the coat pocket (he liked the new coat better; the leather was a bit more supple, and seemed to have a bulletproof panel in teh midsection area. he shucked the rounds from the stripper clip into the mauser, and then swapped cylinders on the Smith and Wesson.

He glanced back at the cabin, and saw the young woman standing there, and failed to racognize her, although her feline grace seemed somewhat familiar. "Hey, Tommy?"
Gunn looked over at him , saying, "Yeah?"
That Girl in the cabin... does she look familiar to you?
"Nope, but one of us better check it out, she might be one 'o them." Gunn said.\
"Right. You stay here," Brantley said, and rolled over to the cabin wall beside the door, then rolled inside and to his feet, a move he hadn't tried in years. While the universe spun around him, and his ears developed a ringing sensation, he pointed the Mauser at the girl, and again felt that her felinity looked somewhat familiar. Then, he asked her, a bit more harshly than he intended, "friend or foe? Um, And where, exactly, do I know you from?"
« Last Edit: June 28, 2009, 05:52:09 am by MWBailey » Logged
The Abiliegh
Zeppelin Admiral
******
United States United States


Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« Reply #423 on: June 28, 2009, 06:18:23 am »

She didn't have time to process the explanation that the Professor told her before they were under attack. Her mental abilities weren't up to what Brantley was suggestions, what with psionic darts and all, so she figured she best just stick to trying to locate Brandsson.

She took the witching rods she'd fashioned and stood regally in the center of the deck. This needed to be a different kind of dowsing, something far more accurate and far more immediate, if she was gonna save their hides.

Tommy's gun distracted her a moment, as it went on in it's glorious array of lightning, and yet, it focused her. The current in the air was tangible, and she could work with it.

"Tommy, dear, keep firing that weapon!" Her commanding tone echoed over the noise of the firefight. She held the rods out, extentions of her arms, but instead of using them to feel for Max, she used them to pull the energy from the air towards her. The hairs on her arms stood as the current traveled, and when she felt the moment was right, she loosed what mental talents she did have, and scoured the city below. Any with psycic sensitivities could her her voiceless scream. "Max!"

<flashback>
"Max!" I looked around the alley, Billy's head still pooled in my lap. "Larry?"

I turned toward the sound of another battered groan, and saw Max working her way toward Billy an me. He was crawling, and it looked like he might have busted up his head a bit, but otherwise, he seemed to be in one piece. "Max... Max, where is Larry?"

"I'm right behind you, Abiliegh." He took a step. A step. A step that meant he was able to walk. He crossed into the light coming in from the street, lights that were starting to get a hint of red and blue in em.

"Oh Max, Larry, that god you're both alright. We need to get Billy to a hospital. We've just gotta."

"We'll do no such thing." Larry voice was dark, and though I couldn'[t see his face, under the shadow of his fedora, I new that his eyes were full of hate.

</flashback>

She shook her head clear as Brantley rushed past her into the cabin. She barely noticed him pull a gun on someone in the cabin. It wasn't important, because she could sense Max. Whatever that gun was, it's side effects and it's current had amplified her aptitudes just enough that she could feel him, wavering at the edge of her consciousness.

It had been years since she'd been behind the wheel of any craft like this, but there was no time. As she lunged for the helm, she appologized under her breath for whatever damage she was about to cause.

She had to take them to him. He wasn't doing well. Not well at all.
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MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


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

rtafStElmo
« Reply #424 on: June 28, 2009, 07:09:20 am »

Brantley stepped backward 'til he stood beside Mrs. Cross, still facing the newcomer, still with the mauser trained on her chest. He spoke sideways to Mrs. Cross, " you ever driven a Row Crop Tractor? Its the same controls, basically." Brantley forebore to explain that Pu;cifer had accidentally materialized just outside the window where the inventor of teh Row Crop tractor's yhrottle implement controls waw taking a coffee break, and teh fellow had seen the controlswhen he clambered aboard (as idiotically-intrepid people on coffee breaks are wont to do)to investigate.

He obliged to push the throttle bar forward for her. "okay, now, you're a sensitive, Mrs. Cross, use your head to follow and find him, and look over to the tracker every few minutes, to make sure we're not flying through any energy sources. "If you wanna fire the guns, the lever's right there," he pointed directly to the lever beside the port compass ball, "the directional control for the gatling is right beside it," He pointed to the right of the trigger lever, "and the trigger for it is on the same lever itself, rather like the position lock on a gear or brake lever for a Ford T Steamer." He pointed upward, "'Up' or 'loft' is the lever over your head," he pointed down, then, "And 'down' or 'descent' is the lever beside your feet. "

"For emergency or rapid loft or descent, squeeze the short white spur on each of the handles and you'll shoot up like a rocket or plunge like a stone, respectively; be VERY careful about descending, Mrs Cross. The ground is very hard and doesnt give much when you hit it." He returned his full attention to the girl, who remarkably (if she were a foe) had not moved at all, but stood waiting patiently.

"Oh, by the way, Mrs. Cross, NEVER turn off the diesel engine. it's the source of all the 'lectricity and all of the geared power of the Beau Rosin, and diesels cut off in mid-chug tend to be damned hard to restart." They'd be piloting a basically very dead blimp, in other words.

Now, miss, as I was saying, you do look familiar, but I cant place you, which is unusual for me; kindly tell us your name, at least, and if you'd be so kind, pecisely what you are doing on our blimp?
« Last Edit: June 28, 2009, 02:56:16 pm by MWBailey » Logged
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