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Author Topic: The Darkest of Rivers...  (Read 13731 times)
The Abiliegh
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Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« on: June 12, 2011, 02:35:14 pm »

So, the next collaborative writing project is upon us, and because a good deal of our prior compatriots aren't around much these days, I thought we'd start fresh and look for new people. So, if you're interested, join in!

The Cruzan rum is good, the sun is bright, and the sand is warm. The gulls are making their usual squabble, and all is right with the little microcosm that is Key West. Still, Tommy thinks, retirement is not all it's cracked up to be. It's almost too perfect, and the truth is, he is bored. Mrs. Cross has made great progress with their little Martian, who is actually a bit bigger now, and may be nearly capable of assuming his duties as "King" of the Martian collective hive mind. She has been diligent, and their time here has been productive, but, aside from an occasional walk together, she has been much more involved with the little fellow than Tommy has, leaving him feeling a bit like a fifth wheel. Having been a man of action almost all his life, this idyllic place was very nice, for a while. They have been here nearly a year. Occasionally, a telegram from the Mainland arrives, always from his uncle, usually just a few sentences, inquiring as to their health, and vaguely intimating that The Iron Furnace still needs a General Manager. Standing, Tommy brushes golden sand from his legs, and ambles in the direction of his friend Ernest's bungalow...might as well have a buddy to get drunk with, and Ernest is an expert at that. He has almost arrived when there is a noise in the sky, faint at first, but steadily rising until it becomes a clattering roar, and a full size Pitcairn Autogyro settles onto the beach, sending seven toed cats running in every direction. It is, of course, his uncle, and the diminutive bundle of energy fairly leaps from the cockpit, landing on the sand in front of Tommy before the rotors have stopped turning. "Hello, lad, hello!" exclaims the old Baron, "Ready to be done with this laying about? It's not you, y'know....no, no, just won't do!" As the wiry old gentleman pumps his hand up and down, Tommy realizes that his uncle is quite right...it is time. Ernest appears in the door of his bungalow, cradling a ten gauge shotgun, squinting at the Autogyro, and looking none too pleased with the interruption. "I'm trying to get some writing done! What's all the racket?" Tommy smiles, and introduces the men. "Ernest, this is my uncle, Thomas Elihue Thistlewaite, the Baron Luxborough. Uncle, this is Mr. Ernest Hemingway."
Pleasantries exchanged, and drinks in hand, his uncle fixes him with a serious gaze. "As you may know...certainly hope you do...I have mining interests in Africa, along the Congo River. Things aren't right there, lately, no, no, not right at all. I need someone I can trust to go and sort it out, and you and your lady friend are the most able candidates...ready for some more adventure, lad?"
She heard the commotion of the autogyro outside, and rose from the table. The martian, she'd taken to calling him Perry, sat stoically, his head moving to watch her as she moved for the door. She felt a moment of motherly pride at the human gesture. He didn't need to watch her; the hive mind made that unnecessary.

Stepping into the Florida sun, she smiled, held her sun-hat to her head against the breeze, and started to make her way across the sand to the group of men. She'd always liked the old baron, and she liked watching Tommy around him. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she suspected that something was about to change.

"...ready for some more adventure, lad?" Thistlewaite's titanium teeth flashed brightly as she slipped under Tommy's arm.

"You say that like you have to ask him, Baron." She stood on tiptoe to kiss Tommy on the cheek. "Perry is as ready as he's ever going to be, and assuming there's a way to get him home, I wouldn't mind a little adventure myself." She felt the tickle of the martian's mind against hers, images of his home and of his people following. She felt agreement.

She knew how Tommy felt about their time spent in Key West and she wanted nothing more than to put this chapter to rest. She hoped the Baron would oblige. She and Tommy had grown to love each other in adversity, and what should have been their chance to lose themselves in each other had turned into her playing schoolteacher and him drinking with Ernest. Perhaps a little danger would patch up the hurt feelings.

"Getting your ...erm...protege home will present no problem, my dear. We have streamlined the process of traveling to and from the Red Planet a great deal...little blue fellows have been most helpful at their end, y'know...we can have him home within a fortnight. Still have to launch from the Virginia complex, but we have three smaller gun tubes now, so it is almost a matter of routine. The three of you will have to motor up, though, or take the train...the Pitcairn is a good ship, but only has one passenger seat." The old man is fairly beaming at them, obviously pleased. "Tommy, is your Buick still serviceable?" Tommy nods. "Yes, sir...I've kept her oiled and polished, but haven't run her much...no real need to drive here on the island. The salt air has been a bit of a challenge...I would prefer to leave it at Thistlewaite Hall if we are to be heading for the Dark Continent...without anyone here to keep the rust at bay, she'd be a pile of scrap in another year." The big man is also pleased...already he feels a rush of anticipation...he had not realized, until now, how numbing the peaceful routine of Key West had become. "I'll get the Buick ready, and we should be at th' Furnace within three or four days." Thistlewaite's head bobs quickly up and down. "Excellent! Excellent!" He pumps Tommy's hand again, embraces Abileigh (catching her somewhat by surprise and eliciting a small exhalation as he squeezes her...he is abnormally strong for an old fellow,) shakes Hemingway's hand, also, saying, "Very pleased to meet you, Sir...always enjoyed your books, got 'em all in the Library, y'know...if you're ever up in our area, feel more than welcome to drop by!" Then, with his rapid way of moving, he places a foot in the step on the side of the airframe and vaults back into the cockpit. "Toodle Pip, then! See you in a few days!" With that, he fires the big radial engine, engages the rotor, and, with a short take-off run, is back in the sky and rapidly fading into the distance northward bound. "Astonishing chap!" says Ernest, "Is he always that..um...abrupt?" "He's been like that since I can remember," Tommy answers.
« Last Edit: June 13, 2011, 05:46:13 pm by The Abiliegh » Logged

Action! Adventure! Possible Harlotry!
Abis do it for SCIENCE!
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The Abiliegh
Zeppelin Admiral
******
United States United States


Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« Reply #1 on: June 12, 2011, 02:43:01 pm »

The trip to Virginia is uneventful. Tommy drove, Mrs. Cross imparted her last important lessons to Perry, and otherwise, they enjoyed the countryside of the eastern US.

As the Buick glided up the mountain roads toward Thistlewaite hall, she finally allowed herself to question what was ahead of them. Opening her purse, she pulled out the seemingly innocuous golden pocket watch. While running her fingers over it, she looked to Tommy. "I guess we didn't ask, but I'm curious if we'll be using this." Her voice was pensive. Knowing her like he did, Tommy could hear both the fear and the slight twinge of hope in her words. "I mean, your uncle, he's got access to some of the best men across the globe. When you and I are his best hope, and most suited for a task... well, I cannot imagine what needs doing is conventional...."
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Sgt.Major Thistlewaite
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« Reply #2 on: June 12, 2011, 11:59:26 pm »

"My best guess, darlin' is that there is something supernatural connected with this "problem" with his mines," Tommy answers. "Even though the Baron's advanced age is due, at least in part, to Chinese alchemical potions, and despite the fact that he was on the Younghusband expedition into Tibet, he still has a great distrust of anything 'spiritual' or 'magical.' He hired Madame Blavatsky to translate those papers he acquired in Tibet, and it is his opinion that the task drove her mad. He was an acquaintance of Harry Houdini, and shares Houdini's skepticism. I probably inherited a bit of that, myself..." His face grimaces. "Anything beyond rational explanation, he simply refuses to countenance. If there's any place on earth that has Black Magic for real, though, it's probably Africa."
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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.
Miles (a sailor)Martin
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Just a head full of random thoughts


« Reply #3 on: June 13, 2011, 01:22:35 am »

at a small town near the Colorado/New Mexico border,the Telegraph office door opens,a elderly gent looks out at a young boy and says 'Joe, can you run a telegram down to the livery barn? two bits in it for you." Joeseph O'connely looks up from where he is playing with his mouse, "sure who it for?" the telegrapher says" The MasterChief" ,joe replys"no charge" as he gets up and tucks the mouse into his vented topper,then puts the hat on,takes the telegram and trots arond the back of the bulding out of sight.
.....
joe approaches the big new barn at the livery and pulls the bell rope hanging by the door twice, after a minute a hatch fourty feet above the ground opens and a blond head pokes out,looks around and says "hey Joe up here" then louder"what you need son?"
 'Telegram for you Mastercheif Miles" says joe.
 'be down in a moment, son 'says miles. "Doors open now"

 Joe hears a ca-chunk, and sees the people door pop out a inch, so he goes over to it,pulls it open far enough to enter and  closes it behind him, stopping short as he looks up at the mass of fabric and spruce that fills the barn like hanger,sniffing he smells the scent of sulpuric acid and old iron.turning to the footsteps he passes the telegram to Miles. Miles unfolds it and reads

MCMR Martin you expert opinion needed stop RSVP Thistlewate Hall ASAP stop Baron L at iron forge va  
Miles looks up at the boy and says "can you round up all the other kinder in town and four adults in an hour ? it is worth two dollars to each of them"

 Joe says "more than likely,but what for?"
 Miles replys " I Need a ground crew to get the Areion3 out of the barn" and the wind will drop in thirty minutes for about an hour and the she will be on the tether and clear of the ground.
 joe takes off at a run down to the school house,while Miles goes over and starts the gas generator up, mumbling under his breath " Iron Forge, Virginia,  well well ,girl ,looks like we may have a job for a time" he pats the underside of the airship as he connects up hoses and pulls lines out of recesses in the lower hull. after twenty minites of preperation he raises the main doors in the west end two feet, a small amount of dust blows under them, then he starts the mecanisim that opens the east doors . as they rise the(20) children of the town come into vieiw,along with the school teacher,the blacksmith the parson and the preist.  Joe steps out in front and says "Here We Are Mastercheif"
Miles says "thank you all for coming down < i need som assistance to get out of doors again" i will pay every one two dollars for helping ,four for the adults. all that needs to be done is to pull on this rope here"pointing at a two inch line"untill the tail clears the barn by fourty feet."the kinder need to pull these lines here when I say RELEaSE" pointing at a set of twenty 1/2 inch lines that run down the sides. every body got it?" miles says looking around the group. seeing nods from everyone he turns goes to a small box and opens it,looking inside he nods his head "ok line up and we will get payday out of the way"the kids line up  and miles gives each of them a pair of silver dollars then four to each of the adults dropping the last one into his vest pocket he says" now lets get her outside so i can go make some money,i hope" leaving the box on the countertop. the crew pulls on the trolley the keel isd tied down to and the 130foot lond 33 foot dia meter cigar shape drifts into the sunlight of Purgatory, Colorado, the 18 star and stripe flag on her side gleaming in the bright mountain sunshine . Miles climbs aboard.,opens the bottom window and watches as the trolley aproches a mark on the grond "slowly now"he calls "thats good" "kinder on your ropes now " looking out the window he sees all the children grab a line
" Release" Miles shouts and the children pull .a series of pelican hooks trip and the sand bags they were holding drop off and the ship starts to lift off her cradle.climbing verticaly out of the ton square.Miles calls down thanks for the asist and I will send a Telegram to the paper when i arrive in Virginiato let you know when i will be back.
.... three days pass as the Areon crosses the prarie states then starts climbing to clear the western foothills, miles studys the maps he has and shakes his head,"mumbling to the ship he says "Girl, i am not finding Iron Forge on the map, i am going to have to stop in Wheeling to get directions.and some sleep , just hope they have a mooring mast "
...
floating into view of Wheelling VA, the areion is silent until Miles open the hatch and calls down to a Mailman about to start his round "post man, up here , have you knowledge of Thistlewate Hall, in Iron Forge, Virginia,?"" fourty miles east you say" thank you" "for your trouble" a silver dollar minted in Richmond VA and over stamped CSA falls to the ground,as a mist of water is discharged fron the bow of the airship and she starts climbing and gaining speed,without a sound.

 
« Last Edit: June 13, 2011, 01:36:24 am by Miles (a sailor)Martin » Logged

Who you calling old, Sonny boy? Just because my birth certificate is on birch bark there isn't any reason to be calling names.
machinist for hire/ mechanic at large
Warning : minstrel with a five string banjo
Sgt.Major Thistlewaite
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Gibraltar Gibraltar


I am, therefore I think.


« Reply #4 on: June 13, 2011, 03:51:57 pm »

Before Miles has traveled very far, a small rocket rises from the ground, explodes about a half mile ahead, and deploys a red and white parachute, a small canister dangling beneath. Using a boathook, he snags the 'chute, and opening the canister, he finds this inside:








(sidebar OOC. Please note the time discrepancy...we shall assume Purgatory is in a permanent time-loop, as you are now some sixty years into the future compared to the story in The Blazing Gun. Wink)
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The Abiliegh
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United States United States


Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« Reply #5 on: June 13, 2011, 05:42:01 pm »

"Africa..." She tasted the word, growing silent with her musings as they pulled past the gates and up to the Hall.

The hustle of the place always awed her, and it was hard not to simply lose herself in watching it. She slipped her arm into Tommy's and rested her head breifly on his shoulder, watching as an unfamiliar aircraft approached the busy anthill of manufacturing marvel.
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Sgt.Major Thistlewaite
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I am, therefore I think.


« Reply #6 on: June 13, 2011, 09:47:50 pm »

The ever diligent Willoughby meets them in the circular drive at the front of Thistlewaite Hall, and. punctilious as always, he holds the passenger door of the Buick as Mrs. Cross exits the vehicle. "So very good to see you again, Mrs. Cross!" he says, the flicker of a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "Tommy! Splendid! The Baron has instructed me to make you comfortable upon arrival, as he reckons you will want to freshen up a bit after a three day drive. Your "pupil" also has special accommodations designed for his comfort." Stretching his big frame, T.E. smiles broadly, and returns the greeting. "Willoughby, yer th' very picture of a 'gentleman's gentleman,' as ever...place wouldn't be th' same without ya!" Willoughby inclines his head in the slightest of nods. "Thank you, Tommy...one does ones best, eh? Would anyone like refreshments sent to your rooms?" Tommy nods, "Thanks, sounds good...and see if ya can scare up a pack of them Sullivan-Powells, would ya? I haven't had one since the 'Martian campaign'...went back ta my ol' Camel Regulars, but I recall them bein' th' best coffin nails I ever smoked. Bottle of Bourbon might be good, too." "Very good, I think that can be arranged without significant difficulty. The Baron is engaged down at the Iron Furnace, but will be joining you for dinner. You will find suitable clothing laid out for you in your room."
« Last Edit: June 13, 2011, 09:49:43 pm by Sgt.Major Thistlewaite » Logged
The Abiliegh
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United States United States


Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« Reply #7 on: June 13, 2011, 10:29:13 pm »

After she'd settled Perry into his accomodations, she traversed the halls, pleased to discover at the end of her little walk that the Baron had not decided against separate rooms for her and Tommy. She kissed him, and took the offered cigarete and bourbon. She luxuriated in their opulence for a moment, and kissed Tommy once more.

"I'm going to bathe and dress for dinner, dearest."

She made short work of it, being a dame well accustomed to her elegance, and it wasn't long before she and Tommy found themselves looking all manner of dashing and heading downstairs to meet with the Baron.
« Last Edit: June 13, 2011, 11:14:23 pm by The Abiliegh » Logged
Miles (a sailor)Martin
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Just a head full of random thoughts


« Reply #8 on: June 13, 2011, 11:09:15 pm »

Rolling the ship onto course ,Miles rereads the telegram he had retreaved from the chute, then double checks the settings on his transdemesional jumper and checks them against the logbook,and shakes his head. " Ok darling how did you do this jump without me Knowing it? "says Miles. looking out  ahead he sees the plume from The Forge, spotting the beacon tower he  pulls out the Morse signal light and sends" T.A.A.S.  Areion 3 requesting Mooring instructions" will hold position" after sending it twice the tower responds " souls,armament and size of ship " miles sends" one, minor, 140 ft long 40ft tall 60ft wide. single point moor to a mast OK if mast 150ft tall"  additional signals are sent and recived.permission given and the ship moors. Miles decends a long line.and asks "the RSM sent for me, i got here as fast as i could but I was only in transit three days but it seems to have taken 75 years to make it. i hope i am not to late"
                                                    miles 
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The Abiliegh
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Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« Reply #9 on: June 14, 2011, 01:03:07 am »

The men in the docking facility got Miles' ship secured, and he quickly found himself face to face with a gentlemanly looking butler. "G'day, MasterChief. Welcome to Iron Furnace Arms & Armour. The Baron finds himself occupied, but I've been instructed to welcome you and show you to quarters that have been set aside for your stay. If you'd follow me, I'll take you to them forthwith."

As the butler led him to Thistlewaite Hall, he gave the same information he had to Tommy and Mrs. Cross, demanding the required formal dinner dress and expectation of his company in his completely unassuming manner.

Once at the room, he opened the door and ushered him inside. "Is there anything I can get for you while you prepare for dinner? I'll have anything sent up you need, if not I'll let you alone, sir"
« Last Edit: June 14, 2011, 01:05:34 am by The Abiliegh » Logged
Miles (a sailor)Martin
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United States United States


Just a head full of random thoughts


« Reply #10 on: June 14, 2011, 10:05:03 pm »

"thank you ,much a showerbath will be appreciated,and if i could get the suit in this pressed ,I would like to wear it for dinner?"removing a hanging bag out of his back pack,he turns to the butler,as he is shown the room/suite. "Dinner at--?" gving miles the twobit tour the buler shows himself out ,miles does his abolutions , then hears a knock on the door,openig it he is given the freshly pressed suit,closing the door he goes and completes dressing for diner. he sets down to check his logbook, and try to figure out how he made a 70 year time jump with out realizing it.
 after twenty minuites reveiw he shakes his head looks at his watch then goes to the door and opens it,then returns to the chair he was in and pick up the log again and fills out the days events,up to mooring and giving the ground crew the tips on how the old girl handles. 
'
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The Abiliegh
Zeppelin Admiral
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United States United States


Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« Reply #11 on: June 14, 2011, 10:10:30 pm »

OOC: I'll be leaving on holiday tomorrow, so This is probably as good a time as any to start the discussions of what we actually want to do, before we get to the debreifing.

Do we want to explore a steamy Africa of the 1940's, or do we want to play with time travel and put ourselves in the turn of the century? I'm really up for either. Discuss!
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Sgt.Major Thistlewaite
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I am, therefore I think.


« Reply #12 on: June 14, 2011, 10:31:58 pm »

OOC:Hmmmm. We established ( in The Case of the Chrono Catastrophe) that in this Timespace/Universe World War II never happened due to the repeated Martian incursions, so the Africa of this Universe might be a different place than the Africa of our "real" timeline. I reckon it is a matter of what "style" do we want? Turn of the Century = real Victorian. Very early, mostly unexplored, other than for the coastlines. The late 1940's...colonialism, much more established European enclaves, more penetration into the interior, big game hunting and White Hunters...We could easily have both, anyway, we've still got the "timepiece." Wink
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The Abiliegh
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Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« Reply #13 on: June 14, 2011, 10:44:59 pm »

OOC: Good points, darling! It's not difficult to imagine a healthy conglomoration of the two, given what we've already established. Hell, the Martians Wars could have changed the area in any number of ways...
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Miles (a sailor)Martin
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Just a head full of random thoughts


« Reply #14 on: June 17, 2011, 02:43:57 pm »

OOC  as my personal knowledge of the Dark Continent  is all based on the Allan Quartermain, and Tarzan books, and Daktari and Clarence the Cross eyed Lion TV shows, with a bit of Indiana Jones and tarzan for flavor it could be interesting.
still OOC    as far as Miles' airship goes it has a Burroughs-Carter  six axis time twister,that he is still hope full of finding a manual for. the time twister is why he can leave and return to Purgatory and stay synchronized with the local time.  it is a hydrogen lift multi celled diridgible bult on a modifyed Andrew's patent design, power is supplied from a battery pack of  unusuall make that was salvaged from the same place he got the time twister. as of this time the masterchief still hasn't figured out all of the tricks his ship can do. seating capacity is for six persons and three tons of cargo. range is limited by food and the amount of clean water carried to crack for lift gas.
speed max is 100 mph/160kph ,cruse is 75mph/120kph. max altitude is 13000 ft/4000 meters.
all up load reserve bouancy is one ton.  armament is two .45-100 sharps rifles, and a one inch three barrelled Gatling with four thousand rounds.  other equpt on board include a small self contained steam motorgenerator set, for battery chargeing normally one hours fuel for it is carried. the ship is just big enough to lift herself at sea level,but the brass boxes along the keel generate lift some how, (Dean Drive anyone?)boosting the capacity by four tons, as long as D.C. power is avalable.                         miles
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Sgt.Major Thistlewaite
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I am, therefore I think.


« Reply #15 on: June 18, 2011, 03:59:18 pm »

Dinner is sumptuous and excellent, and the conversation is light. The Baron has his usual plate of sardines, washed down with generous amounts of gin from an old mess tankard emblazoned with the rank insignia of a Royal Sergeant Major. As the plates are cleared, he suggests retiring to the drawing room for brandy and cigars, and more serious discussion of the problems he is having with his mines.
"Mainly copper, you know....some other metals are mined there, but only incidentally. There is considerable diamond mining, but that is not amongst my endeavours there...I have the means of producing superior quality diamonds right here at the Furnace...they make the most excellent pivot points...but I do not produce them for profit." "So, Uncle, what is th' nature of th' problem at yer mines, anyway?" Tommy asks. The sprightly old fellow replies, "I hardly give it credence, but it's been bandied about that the entire region has been placed under a curse. Hard feelings going all the way back to Leopold and the Congo Free State, and they are trying to root the Belgians out once and for all. Deucedly difficult to get any workers in there...superstitious people, the lot of them...and even at twice the standard rate, it is all I can do to keep one full shift engaged. I believe there is a more rational explanation, and I wish for you good young people to go and suss it out, if you're willing."
« Last Edit: June 18, 2011, 04:19:51 pm by Sgt.Major Thistlewaite » Logged
Miles (a sailor)Martin
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Just a head full of random thoughts


« Reply #16 on: June 20, 2011, 06:49:58 pm »

"willing, If a somewhat superannuated old sailor would be of use"says Miles,"I've not been in Africa ,just off shore,my last ship was in the China tea trade,so as far as personal knowledge of Africa goes I am lacking as of now, as far as native curses go though ,that Ido have some personal knowledge of, as a brother of mine is a Dinie' medcine man, and he informed me of some of the ways of the Dark Path shamen,and how to counter their works, so far it has been of small consecuence to me as far as I know, but, i have always followed his advice when  i have come in contact with peculiar things ,and me and mine have come through intact so far. Is this the reason you sent me that telegram Baron?"asks Miles of the Baron.
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The Abiliegh
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Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« Reply #17 on: June 21, 2011, 08:26:53 am »

She listened, thinking, for a moment, that this would be a nice task to have Ms. Storm around for. Experiences being what they'd been, she was more willing to accept the supernatural these days. She sipped at a finger of the Baron's excellent whiskey and listened to the men talk a moment.

"I take it you've got the local smoke working for you, yeah? What's the wire comin' from them? If we're going to figure out who's got you for a mark, or if this is a rigged game at all, that's where we need t'start." She didn't feel it was necessary to address her and Tommy's willingness to help out the baron. He'd already been a world of help the them.

She took up a little notepad from the end table, licked the tip of pencil, and readied herself for whatever details Thistlewaite could provide.
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Sgt.Major Thistlewaite
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Gibraltar Gibraltar


I am, therefore I think.


« Reply #18 on: June 21, 2011, 02:34:00 pm »

"Apart from the telegrams from my Superintendent of Mines, I know very little more than what I've said so far, m'dear. This is to be a fact finding junket, for the most part. Masterchief Martin, I ask for your participation as I know you to be an excellent airman, and your ship is almost perfect for reconnaissance work...my own vessel, the Aurora Borealis, is far too large and prone to attracting attention. It is my wish to keep this endeavour somewhat low key, and your vessel can readily be passed off as a simple trading/cargo ship." Thistlewaite drains his tankard, stands and stretches, then says, "A good night's rest, and we shall begin preparations in earnest tomorrow. We shall also get your young "King" on his way back home, Mrs. Cross." He makes a slight bow, and with a simple "Good Night, All...sleep well," he departs the drawing room. 
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The Abiliegh
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The_Abi
« Reply #19 on: June 21, 2011, 05:52:15 pm »

She stood, finished her wiskey, and moved across the room to Miles, extending a well-manicured hand.

"Abiliegh Cross, and this is Tommy Gunn. Seems we're t'be gumshoein' this as a team, so best to get acquaintences done now. I don't suspect the baron will give us much time come daylight. Once we get Perry off, he's like to have us off to Africa within the hour." Her smile was lazy and confident and warm.
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Sgt.Major Thistlewaite
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« Reply #20 on: June 21, 2011, 10:16:38 pm »

Tommy shakes the man's hand, noting that the handshake is firm, and the hand is dry and calloused ...a working man's hand. You can tell a lot about a man by his handshake. His initial impression is that this fellow is OK. "Good thing," he thinks to himself, "This is shaping up ta be no job fer sissies." The big detective's skepticism is hardly less than that of his Uncle, but he has seen things he can't explain rationally, especially since he walked into Mrs. Cross' little bar a year or so ago. Time travel, occult, alien hive minds...life was simpler when he was just a private dick in Chicago...but, he has to admit, a lot less interesting.
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The Abiliegh
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The_Abi
« Reply #21 on: June 21, 2011, 10:28:32 pm »

She paused, distracted a moment. "You know, it occurs to me that we never went back for Clark..." She looked sheepish and glanced at Tommy. "Perhaps your uncle would be so kind as to send for him and to close up the Salon? He'd be devilishly useful to have around." To Miles, she spoke. "Clark is a clockwork I came across years and years ago, and while his predominant purpose as of late has been to mind the bar while I was occupied, he's more a bodyguard than anything."
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MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


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

rtafStElmo
« Reply #22 on: June 23, 2011, 05:14:41 am »

I was wondering if I could get in on this, either before or after the big move; not sure how prolific I can be this time around, but I'd like to give a try.

I was thinking of a veteran mercenary/adventurer sort of character...
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Walk softly and carry a big banjo...

""quid statis aspicientes in infernum"
The Abiliegh
Zeppelin Admiral
******
United States United States


Wench with a Wrench

The_Abi
« Reply #23 on: June 23, 2011, 01:00:46 pm »

I was wondering if I could get in on this, either before or after the big move; not sure how prolific I can be this time around, but I'd like to give a try.

I was thinking of a veteran mercenary/adventurer sort of character...

OOC: Meet us in Africa? It seems as we're not far from heading there!
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Miles (a sailor)Martin
Zeppelin Admiral
******
United States United States


Just a head full of random thoughts


« Reply #24 on: June 23, 2011, 02:05:47 pm »

"Mr. Gunn ,Miss Cross 'tis good to meet you in person, the letter the Baron sent me mentioned you two and another fella, I disremember his name right now ,as being possible to be working this problem for him, he told me that he co'na get away to handle it hisself,so was going to have to deligate it out. Myself , i am a fair hand with the weapons on my ship but she is not a warship by any stretch of the imagination, some of her equipage is salvage,some homebrew by me,some comercial off the shelf, she can transport six in some comfort, max load if the Gatling gun and ammo was offloaded would be fourty persons but that would be standing room only. cargo space is sufficient four thirty days supply for six persons, crew required is one watch stander/pilot per shift,i can teach most folk to surf her in a half a day, so if you are to ride down with me then we can be ready to leave in three days, else i will need to see if i can get my daughter to come along, to be my co-pilot, that is unless the Baron knows someone trustworthy?" says Miles .

(OOC) MWBailey you got a spare persona 'round that can fly a Glider/Diridgible. here's your chance .
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