>The Smoking Room< The Second Storey

[Lucius Baxter]

*Temporal anomaly opens*
Wot ho! Erm.... lots of people... must consider Identi-Vamp. Oh, Grog please... *pulls out Peterson pipe*

[Adelaide Blake]

Ah, Miss Adelaide, good to see you! Is that a note book I see? Are you a writer? *pours cup of tea* Would you care for some tea, dear?

Tea would be lovely  A note book indeed. I'm collecting history, unfortunately, I went down the wrong timeline and ended up collecting future. But still, it will all become useful.

[Crescat Scientia]

Good day.

Tea!  Huzzah!  It is no longer rationed, then?

Oh, I say, this isn't 1952.

[James Harrison]

Tea?  Rationed?  That'll be the day, there'll be riots in the streets, it just won't stand....

Oh, hang on a minute.... yes, ahem, the rationing of tea will lead to a riot. 

[Zantyago]

*has his hands all wrapped in skirt fabric*

can someone tell me if I have deep cuts in my face?

[Lucius Baxter]

Deep cuts? Hmm.... Hard to tell really... Whatever could you have done to get deep cuts?

[Adelaide Blake]

*Notices Zantyago*

"Nothing too bad I don't think - you'll end up more dashing rather than mauled by a bear, or whatever - if I may be so bold to say so"

*offers glass of Scotland's finest, with straw*

[MsKim]

Oh yes, most definitely! Nothing better than a few scars to woo the ladies (or gents, if you prefer). *giggles*

[Adelaide Blake]

Great minds think alike, MsKim 

[Zantyago]

*sips the Scotch*

and tries to make a thumbs up

If you see a broken skylight, that was me falling

[MsKim]

That was you, then? I say, whatever were you doing on the roof? *scoots closer to hear tales of bravery and adventure* Oh, Miss Adelaide, please join us! Maybe you'll have some interesting tales to record in your journal!

[Lucius Baxter]

*Lights pipe*
"Skylights? Dangerous things, I never use them..."
*Pulls up chair across from others to listen*

[Xenos]

*Raises his head off the table, having passed out/fallen asleep again*

"Tell ya what, chap-regale me with a tale of daring do, and I shall repay the favor in kind.  Be warned, though-my stories are oft' dark..."

[Zantyago]

Well My story involves a prototype directionable parachute, a reckless pilot and a balloon ship.

I casted myself and after I reached terminal speed I opened the parachute which worked fantastic, all was nice and easy until someone's propeller made a cut in some of the strings that keet it in shape  as consecuence I started to freefall again, But I landed in an airship which was  very close to the floor, my hands slipped and I landed here.

[Xenos]

*Takes a pull from the hookah, the blue smoke settling around him in an eerie way*

Sounds like you've the Devil's Own Luck, mate.  My story is less interesting...

*He flexes his two fake fingers*

Lost 'em in a knife fight my first day in Dockside.  Three on one, but I came out on top.  A few days later, I fell in with an interesting lot down at the local gent's club, where I became quite friendly with the owner (lovely lass, Vikki).  After a few weeks, she took a shine to me, made me these.

Then the Revolution broke out...

*He takes a long, LONG pull, holding the smoke in his lungs until he's about to cough, then drains the last of the brandy*

BARKEEP!  MORE BRANDY...

*He sits back in his chair, dark eyes sad*

[Zantyago]

really? I would prefer to have landed in the original Plan, The city square to cause an commotion and the attention of the press and someone with enought capital would aprtener with me to make it in volumes if he/she sees potential in it.

[MsKim]

*leans forward, elbows resting rather unladylike on the table*

This is all so intriguing! Please, sirs, do go on. I am quite sure there is more to tell... Oy! These bustles! So uncomfortable!

[Xenos]

*Xenos takes the brandy from the lovely serving lass, giving her a roguish smirk and a wink*

Aye, milady, there's always more to be told...  And if your bustle is causing you discomfort... 

*He smiled suggestively*

At any rate...  There's more to every story than what's on the surface-mine is surely no different.  Aye, there's some happiness to be had in it, sure-but it's fraught with tragedy... 

*He sighed deeply, as if he really didna wish to relive some of these memories*

When the Revolutions broke out, I was working on the docks for The Big Boss.  He was a fair man, and had promoted me to staff from the worklines my first day on the job-all because I bested his lift-man...  Earned me a few broken ribs, but I swear I had nothing to do with his lift explosion...

*Taking a pull from the hookah, he leaned back again, blowing smoke rings into the air*

Well, the Slaa, ne'er content to leave well enough alone, decided they'd start conscription.  I was picked.

That was a few months after Vikki and I had started courting.

She was a member of the resistance.

*He poured a shot into the glass on the table, and slammed it back hard, filling it again, and dumping it on the floor.*

Curse me for a fool, but I earned my reputation for being the most effective at tracking down the resistance, and having them captured.

By the First Bullet!  I was no turncoat-though I knew right were she was, I never turned her in-nor did I ever raid her.  I would funnel information to her supporters, keeping them one step ahead of the Slaa-she never knew.

She never knew...

*Taking another pull, he lapses back into melancholy.*

[Zantyago]

Sad story indeed , me personally I never had a special lady in my life...

This scotch gets in my head quite easilly, I'm not used to drink.

too much of a good boy excepte very very daredevil like.

I propelled with a freind over 100 Mph on a sand beach. scary, shaky and fun

[greatestescaper]

*taking a long draw of a freshly lit corn cobb*

'twas the same when I'd started rangerin'.  We was supposed to be scoutin' fer the first of the Trans Pecos airship yards en route to El Paso.  I'd been of the opinion that no red man with a lance could be any match for us Texans with our modern warfare and our modern weapons.  Never had anyone in the history of this world had more naive a thought.  Nothing could've prepared me for the horrors of that doomed expedition.

*another pull at the cobb, a pause, followed by a large puff of smoke.*

It was September.  This was the fist expedition for many in the troop and so far it'd been a disaster.  One folly or misadventure too many and we'd found ourselves with barely a nag per man.  The pack animals were dropping from exposure, the mechanic ones unmoving as statues for lack of oil, fuel, and mechanics.  It was slow goin' and we was low on supplies.  And to make it worse each man, er, boy really, and all of us so green, had been near to shaking.  We weren't shakin from cold but from fear as we were on the Trans Pecos, where water and food was scarcer than the ammo and it was a Comanche Moon.

*the pulls at the cobb have settled to their cadence for a time between talking and there were puffs of heavy smoke at regular intervals rising from under the large hat brim*

We'd found a spot there in the rocky formations there by the Calamity Creek, outside of presently Fort Davis.  The corporals were stationed the late watch.  They two were the only of us that'd been this far west of San Antonio before.  And they were trembling themselves as this was the land of the mighty Buffalo Hump.  Buffalo Hump alone had licked whole troops before and on their previous expeditions had barely kept their hair from the lance of the great wicked chief.  Myself and the others were under no assumptions.  We'd not survive the night, let alone see through to El Paso.  Least-ways not with our hair under our hats and not dangling from some Comanch lance.

*puff, puff, puff*

There'd been a raid, or so we learned upon our return to Austin.  And sure as always the Comanche were victors, as was so often the case in them early wild days.  It was to become known as the Battle of Plum Creek.  Kicking Wolf, the famed horse thief of the Trans Pecos and one of Buffalo Hump's war party, had made off with 50 head of them new mechanical horses and, having burned and pillaged the western Texas settlements were now making their way West and then South for their regular raid deep into the lands South of the Rio Grande.  The Comanche Moon was bright and there'd be bloodshed on those wild lands.

*taking a breath from speaking, the cobb puffing as engine 382 with C. Jones at the throttle*

It was damn near a massacre.  If not for Gus's superb vision (even Jack, with his telescopic-prostetic-monocle couldn't out-see ol' Gus) and Call's keen mind fer battle I'd not have my hair now and that's for certain.  As it was more'n half of us didn't keep our hair that fateful night.  It was luck that allowed me to be sitting here this night enjoying some fine tobacco in this here corn cobb.  Luck that no arrow pierced my hide, nor my horses, and luck that the two corporals could find it in themselves to lead the rest of us that was still green.  Many of our troop weren't so lucky.  The few that were had been killed instantly of slit throats as the wild men flanking us had made their way to our camp.  No one was so unlucky as Jim.  

*at the remembering of Jim I take a long slow draw on the cobb and let out the largest yet puff of smoke.  Then staring at the smoke cloud, but not yet drawing on the pipe again I continue*

Jim was one of the scouts on our expedition.  He'd told us he had smelled the red men, but of course we didn't believe him.  Sure they'd have to be awful close for a man to smell 'em.  Even if the man had a mechanical sniffer it just weren't possible.  It wasn't as though a storm was a blowing in and you could smell the sulfur in the sky and the creosote release its soothing oils.  We couldn't of been more wrong.  A party of only 8 Comanche bucks, being led by Buffalo Hump himself, accomp'nied by the devilish Kicking Wolf, mounted upon stolen mechanical horses and armed with the newest clockwork rifles.

*puff*

Jim was caught while scouting fer water enough for the men and their nags when he was caught by Kicking Wolf.  After the first attack wave, where 4 of our number had had their young throats slit, the tortured screams of Jim filled the air 'till well after sunrise.  None of us slept that night, and none of us thought we'd see the light of day.  It was only them two corporals who kept us alive, for they had tangled with Buffalo Hump.  The battles were brutal and costly, but eventually that crazed, blood-thirsting chief decided to continue their raid toward Mexico.  He figured on getting the rest of us on his trip back.

*puff*

There's not a night where I don't hear Jim screaming those horrid screams and I'm not reminded of his remains, mutilated and laying out there amongst the prickly pear.

*puff*

I only hope that those who'd sacrificed everything for the cause will not be permitted to become lost in time.

[Adelaide Blake]

My good sir, let me assure you that such acts will not go unrecorded whilst I am here. I'm only glad I got here in time, a fascinating story to be sure. I will do all I can to make sure the event and those who were there will be recorded by the proper people and remembered in the annals of history. Have another drink.

And Xenos, many tales reached me from the revolution, I am sorry yours had to be a sad one.

*orders round*

[Lucius Baxter]

*another glass of grog*
"Do they serve pie here? Or cheese, one or the other... this is good rum, wonder where they got it from. So, Miss Adelaide, you record the adventures of others?"

[Adelaide Blake]

I record any stories I come across, and take them back to the annuals of history. Why, do you have a story to tell Lucius?

And pie would be good

[Lucius Baxter]

"oh..... not really, just inter-dimensional vampires who feast on the blood of British blondes."

[helios]

*Hands Xenos the bottle of brand, and returns his' roguish wink, as he saunters back to the bar*

We always have pie available. Depending, of course, on the time of day, and the type of pie. I think we've a steak and porter in the oven right at the moment.