"STEAM LONDON" Game Thread

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss and Emma sat in the galley, drinking coffee and discussing the rest of the crew; Jen, to be exact, and Patrick, and what could be done for the two.

"For my own part," Dreyfuss said, carefully, "I've never been much good at keeping people together. It seems, in fact, that the more I get involved in somebody else's relationship, the worse the relationship gets; also, I've never had a steady love, myself, that's lasted for more than a year or two, and thats probably for the best. I'd hate to be the cause for someone else to go to a funeral."

"Now, people like Patrick and Jen, for example, or a certain lady engineer of my acquaintance and one or another very close friends of hers; seems to me those pairs should get together before it's too late and take care of their hearts before they lose the chance. Love can come and leave for another town so fast it makes your head spin. I've been there, and it's not an enjoyable feeling, knowing you could have had something  nice in that way, but you let it get away."

"What about yourself, Captain? Do you have anyone?"

Dreyfuss was takaen slightly aback. You should've seen that one coming, boy, He berated himself, "Now be sure and dont go making her feel sorry for you, the last thing this mission needs is a lovelorn war.

"There was a woman, once, fine as dark gossamer and sweet as a pomegranate after a long march. Her name... Well, never mind that. She was a beauty, but she passed from my side, and I was a fool and let her do it. Now there 's no one else I would want; I'd only end up comparing them to her." I have no business seeking after a love anyway. I'm too old and I have too many other Irons in the fire now, if you'll pardon the expression.

Now, about this gun of yours...I believe I mentioned I was raised by a blacksmith?
Emma nodded.
"Well, I may not be much good with rayguns, but I can fuller a bar and weld a tube as good as anybody, or could once upon a time. With you telling me what to do, we just might be able to make a passable gun." Dreyfuss offered.

[Stella Gaslight]

Angel's lessons were different than what he had expected, less about hitting the right note and more about putting the right feelings in.  It was exhausting but at the same time it soothed his mind and made his body feel stronger.  Angel sung a sweet trilling song that suited her well.  "That is me.  I can sing strength in to myself or healing if I need to.  You need to find your own song and once you find it you can do the same.  Close your eyes and listen and I am sure you will find it."


Emma spread her plans on the table.  "See it needs a strong base but it also needs to be aim able." Emma pointed to the odd bulb looking things that bloomed from the back of the gun like a flower.  "Energy collects in these orbs both from sunlight and the aether itself.  Then it flows through a series of condensers and super chargers.  It comes out here as an incredibly powerful heat beam.  The problem is a lot of the parts are going to have to be scratch built and while I am quite capable of making most of the parts there is no way I can move them with this busted leg and Ella said not to remove the bandages."

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Elisha dissassembled his rifle, just as he had done countless times with his old one. He made sure all the parts were in order, that nothing would break. He checked his equipment, his respirator, his helm, his limbs. The attatchments he needed to keep him in forward motion.

I'd be retired twice over if it wasn't for these. Two times I've stepped right up to death and been smashed back by it. But you can always get back up.

He frowned. Third times tended to be the final times. And who knew when this last chance would come? He put that out of his mind. That thought was useless. When you die, you die. But he could not shake the feeling he was missing something. He remembered his experience in the caverns below the lab...

-------

In the courtyard of Cadens' mansion, the Seventh Commodore trained. He thrust in every direction with his spear, twisting and turning, his muscles keeping up. He was young and unscarred. He was perfect. His breath echoed behind his mask. He paused, looking up at the sky. His destiny was laid out for him already. It was coming closer. He smiled behind his mask. Soon it would be time to prove himself. At the end, there is always only one survivor.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Cain closed his eyes and let the song of the universe play. The tune of existence wrapped itself around him, enveloping him in the symphonic beauty of life itself. He heard the songs of life itself, every blade of grass on the ground, every tree in the woods and everything that drew air into itself sang in a glorious chorus.
A single tune stood out among them all like a red rose among a sea of millions of other flowers, all beautiful but the crimson rose stood out. It called to him. He reached out and brushed its soft petals and felt his song pass through his existance. It started at the tips of his fingers and worked its way through every atom of his being.
He opened his mouth and began to sing his song. Cain's song was intricate and complex like the flavor of a fine wine.

His song told the story of a great black tree who grew foul poison fruit. One day, the tree's planter chopped it down, and from its stump grew a new tree. It was frail at first but slowly became stronger, all the while a white lily grew beside it, giving the young tree something to care for. The flower gave the tree joy and the tree sheltered the flower. Over time, the flower grew tall and wrapped itself around the sapling. The two plants intertwined, creating an amazing new plant which bore sweet fruits which cured any ailment the eater suffered. The flower and the tree seemed to become a unified being. Seperate but together, a beautiful chimera of silken petals and iron branches.

"Well, what do you think?" He asked with an air of hope.

[ShredsnPatches]

Jen wept in Patrick's arms.

"I'm losing my mind, losing it!" she sobbed.

[MWBailey]

"ummm...hmmm...Dreyfuss looked over the plans, tryiung to figure out a way to get the thing together.
"This looks," he said, "an awful lot like that dump wagon I helped Pappy Jack build for that salt merchant -- except for being able to set the angle of the dump, or the angle in the other direction... Wheels're smaller, might be able to make do with plank wheels...maybe turned blocks...Dump box made thicker...I've seen a few siege guncarriages made like that...Principle looks to be the same. Not sure about the lateral swivel, might have to make that like a wagon pivot, but put a nut in top so it can't just fall off the axle...

"Doesn't this ship have a room or something with a crane? maybe that thing in the hold...that'd make lifting the built pieces easier," he asked. Is it getting colder all of a sudden? he thought. Maybe I'd better get that coat. I can reload those two empy cylinders while I get it..."It's gettin' a bit nippy, feels like to me, I think I'll go and get my coat, and reload on the way, then if you're still interested, we can meet in the hold adn see about the pole-crane I saw 'em using to load the provisions...?"

---
Abraham Inksmith woke up in his cabin, refreshed after a good, long sleep, and stretched, and redressed in the parts of clothing that he had discarded the night before. there had ben a point, there, where he had experienced bad dreams; he knew he  had, but bless the Mother, he could not remember a single detail. Something told him that that was a good thing. Rosie wasalready awake; in fact, she was upright and erect, making motions that asked to go outside the room. "You want out, Rosie? all right, here we go." He opened the door and walked with rosie down to to the galley, vaguely intending to get a bite...to... "My word, that coffee smells good, Rosie..." he said as he walked into the galley area. "Is there any coffee left, Old One?" Abe asked Dreyfuss, who was seated with Emma and seemed to be perusing some plans for some kind of...lollipop wagon? Dreyfuss nodde din teh direction of teh coffeepot, and Abe walked over and poured himself a cup. He added things and stirred and finally walked over to see what that thing was... "My, my, that's a big wagon, but the wheels're too small, he said." Dreyfuss seemed to have had an idea, and looked up and said, "Good morning, Abe!" Then, his expression changed slightly,  and he asked, Would you be able to help with a project we seem to have going , here?we could use somebody with a good strong back; Miss Armistead said my side ought not to be strained too much, but I'll be doing my share, as well; we could probably do with some help on this one."

Abe gulped a bit of the blessedly hot liquid and savored teh flavor. These people all seem to make really good coffee, he mused. Sure, give 'em a hand, lad. "Sure, Mr. Dreyfuss," he said, "just tell me where and when."

He noticed that Dreyfuss had his gun out and was rapidly charging the chambers of a cylinder in his pistol, then capping them, then adding the bullets and patching them as he spoke, all from various pouches and a powder flask on his belt, while talking and examining the drawings. He must have done that so many times, he could do it in his sleep, Abe wondered.

"Well, then,Abe," why don't you help Miss Emma to the hold, and I'll be there momentarily," Dreyfuss said. "Now that I have a coat, I seem to be inventing excuses to wear it," he said, rubbing his arms as if they were cold, and chuckling. Coat? that's new, Abe tought. he must've gotten it from that Marauder airship or something.
Abe let Emma lean on him, and put his arm around her shoulders, effectively becominmg an oversized walking aid. "We'll see you there, then, Old One," Abe said. Dreyfuss nodded approvingly, and headed off to his cabin.
"There now, Emma, just lean on me, and take your time," Abe said.

----------
Dreyfuss mused, I'm not completely sure I like being called "Old One," he thought, but it seems important to Abe, so I guess it's all one,

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick kissed the cheek of his frazzled love. His hand that was still human (So to speak) pressed up against her cheeks, wiping away her tears and stilling her shaking.
"You're not going insane. As far as I know, your recalling memories from the bright ones. I think you're being shown this for a reason. Someone who's probably controlling all this is showing you and I the severity of our situation and what we must do."
Patrick spoke with a sagacy that she had never known Patrick to posess. She wondered if the Deus arm was in fact changing him as well as her, ever since he had gotten it he had become something else, though through his changes, his unwavering love for her remained.

[Stella Gaslight]

There were tears in Angel's eyes but she was smiling brightly.  She kissed him over and over actions telling what words were too clumsy for.  "Let's sing us now."

Emma hobbled along frustrated at her own slowness.  "Thank you for the help."  She said leaning on Abe.  "The thing we are building is a heat cannon that will hopefully give us a very large advantage in the next battle.  What I need you and Mr. Dreyfuss to do is build the base.  It is fairly simple but it is going to be quite heavy and even if I was completely healthy there is a limit to what I can do."  She sounded rather annoyed about that. "So I will have you do work on the housing while I work on the innards. My task will be fiddly work but well worth the frustrations I think."  The cargo hold was nearly empty much of what they had received last night had either been used immediately or had another place on the ship where it belonged.  They were left with a large workspace. "All right then if you can help me to that table and chair over there we can get started by gathering the supplies on this list."

[Nigel Wetherby]

"I suppose it was a rather nice song, wasnt it?" Cain chuckled to himself after two minutes of Angel's amorous kisses. Cain began to ponder what might be his next task. He sang the song once more, letting the power of its emotions pulse through him. He could feel his body become sturdy and as powerful as an oak, but as flexible as a sapling.

[Stella Gaslight]

Angel joined him light and soaring.  She was gentle but with a driving force that did not yield.  Her song wrapped around around his quick and darting as a bird.  Cain moved slowly and powerfully, an unstoppable juggernaut of momentum while Angel fluttered around him swift, smooth and never where you would expect her to be.  Together like this they could rule the battlefield, no need for words, four eyes looking as one and two bodies joined but separate.  Angel stopped and Cain realized that he was tired like he had ran a marathon.  Angel was slumped a little too but she smiled.  "It gets easier with time.  Let's go have breakfast."

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Yes, a nice breakfast will do us good." Cain felt rather proud of what he had done so far,  he felt that with enough practice he and Angel could fell entire armies of colds ones. The idea made him chuckle, putting any fears he may have had of failing aside for the moment.

[Stella Gaslight]

Angel was currently peering in every cabinet that had been restocked with food like she was looking for something. She pulled out a glass bottle filled with amber syrup and a bag with a picture of pancakes on it.  She opened the top of the bag and stared at the mix inside in confusion.  She had been expecting the cakes to be in the bag just like the picture on the side.  How was she supposed to make food out of this powdery stuff? "I want to try making those cake things with syrup that Emma made Christmas morning but I don't know how cooking food works. Do you Cain?"

[Nigel Wetherby]

Cain examined the powdery box curiously, food in boxes was very common on air ships, though he had never really fully grasped their concept.
"Perhaps there is instructions?" As he turned the box around to see its back, he saw these instructions and felt that they were rather ill-conceived.  How would adding water make these into pancakes?
"I beilieve we're supposed to cook these."

[Stella Gaslight]

"It says to add a cup of of water and one and a two cups of the powdery stuff but what cup?" She had pulled out every cup she could find from big thick mugs to dainty teacups.  How were they suposed to know what to pick?  "Making food is hard. How do people manage to feed themselves?"

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss managed to reload the second of the two empty Paterson cylinders jst before he reached the door to his cabin. He glanced into the steering room and saw Cap'n hudson standing at the wheel, apparently fixing or polishing something. "Morning, Cap'n, Dreyfuss said.
"Good Morning, Mister Dreyfuss," the Captain answered. "Working with Ms. Lightol on a weapon, are you?"

"Yes sir...how..."
"I keep my eyes and ears open, Jaisen."
 Apparently Dreyfuss reacted in a way he was not aware of, as teh captain added, "First names of subordinates and equals are the privilege of officers. Since you are in fact an officer, I suppose we'd better get used to addressing you as one. And since I am your superior officer --aren't I?" he waited.
"Yes, of course Cap'n."
"Glad to know you still have your wits about you, Dreyfuss."
"Sir, I never thought they'd refuse my resignation, or whatever it was they did -- or didn't do." And anyway, from what little I've heard else, any "flag" rank I may have been given or have earned, it will be almost meaningless before much longer, since the Marauders are out of a job. And 'Light Commodore' sounds actually pretty sinister just now, if you take my meaning," Dreyfuss said in hushed tones. "and I certainly don't see myself as 'over' yourself, sir, so that bloody ridiculous 'over-captain' business is about equally er, well, ridiculous."

"True enough, Jaisen, but still. I think you should let Miss Armistead call you a captain if she wishes, or anyone else for that matter. It's an honorific as well as a title; you're certainly experienced enough for it."
"if you say so, sir," Dreyfuss answered
"I do." The Captain said firmly. "Now, go ahead and get your coat and get down to the hold, captain Dreyfuss. Miss Emma needs you, and we may see action before we expect it. Shanghai is not that long away, after all."
"Yes, sir. And, thank you, sir."
You're welcome, Jaisen."
Dreyfuss turned on his heel and walked in two strides to his cabin and opened the door, got his coat, grabbed his goggles case from the shelf, and put the case in the left inner breast pocket, ands started walking back, loading the boat gun from the other makings that he had gotten from Richter during the visit to the Bowie. When he finished loading the Boat gun, he strapped it across his back so it wouldnt fall of while he worked, and entered the hold. he saw that Abe had already lifted a good deal of timber into the cente rof teh hold, , and was beginning to lay out the pieces to be cut and shaped into the wagon parts.

Dreyfuss walked in and asked. OK, here I am. which pieces do you want us to shape first, Miss Emma?

[sir charles of tayle]

(OOC:Well...here we go..)

Charles Looked frantically through his papers trying to find some means to justify this new order from his superiors.  Why on earth would they need him to lead a garrison of the Black Service in an attack against the Boheme!?  They hadn't broken any of London's laws...Recently that is.  Charles picked up the phone,"Operator?...Yes....Please connect me to Johnathan Yabersmith in England......Yes, thank you"  

"Johnathan? This is Charles Tayle"
"CHARLES! Listen, usually I don't let my men call me while I am off duty but for you, I will make an exception.  How can I help you friend?"
"Why do we have an order to attack the Boheme?"
"How should I know, I don't have every order from the big man memorized"
"This is important, I know some of the men on this ship.  Yes they could in fact be called Pirates for some of the things they have done.  But since when does the Black Service deal with petty pirates?  We are for bigger things"  Stuttered Charles, trying to think of an excuse not to attack his friends, "

"I'll tell you what, I will look into it,but only because it is you Charles, if this was anyone else..."
"But its me,so that is of no consequence" interupted Charles impatiently.
"Ahh yes, well postpone the attack for 3 days, I will call you tommorrow"

Charles hung up the phone, not feeling any better.

[MWBailey]

Uh-oh, Dreyfuss thought, I'm getting that damned premonition itch again. This time its on my ears and right between my shoulder blades, like I always used to get just before Richter sprung one of his schemes, Dreyfuss pondered. He set down the drawknife he was using to shape the bearing stem  of one of the ash beams they had decided to use for the axles, and rolled up the sleeves of the  greatcoat, reverse-buttoning the huge cuffs (he hadn't been able to get more than the commodore braid off of them; he still had a double buff stripe on each) so that the sleeves wouldnt fall back down again. This was a nice coat, he considered. Wool-and-silk, of all things.

"Miss emma, I dont mean to make things more frustrating than they have to be, but I'm getting an itch between my shoulderblades, like somebody's planning something; I always used to get the same feeling whenever Richter was about to try some scheme to get me court-martialed, so he could take over the Mad Anthony. iIt's nothing right here, right now, but pretty soon in the future. And not in Shanghai or in St. Petersburg. I just thought you ought to know."
------------
"Is it like a wolf watching you from a distance, Old One?" asked Abe.
"if I take you rightly, then yes, Abe, it is," Dreyfuss said, resuming drawknkifing the stem. "It's also like somebody someplace else is talking about me, you know, the old saying about one's ears burning...

He set down the knife, picked up one of the small wagon wheels left over from a previous weapon, which they had found in a dark corner of the hold, and held it to the stem to check it for size, and then sheathed the drawknife, put it in the Carpentry Tools box and pulled out a four-in-hand raspand began honing down the stem so that it  would fit the wheel without too much play.

Abe watched, did the same with his drawknife (he was proving to be very good with hand tools), picked up a wheel and checked the size of the stem on a different beam, and then began to hone it like Dreyfuss was doing to his.

Working in this way, each complimenting the other, they soon had the iron-bound wooden base bed built and waiting, with its tall azimuth pivot and wide friction track for the altitude mount for the gun, and the decking on which the operator (or operators) would stand to aim and move the gun around on the pivot. They then began to measure the gun itself (the main barrel of which Emma had already managed to put together), to get the measurements for the pivoting mount, and the position of the trunnions, on which the gun itself would pivot to aim it vertically.

Dreyfuss was amazed at Emma's knowledgeabilty concerning weaponry design norms, especially heavy artillery, but he was still wondering how it would be deployed, and he asked emma about it.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Cain noticed something about the enscriptons on the back of the mysterious box.
"It says here we need some sort of special cup with stripes on it." Cain said as he ran a finger down the list of steps illustrated in cross-hatched style as Angel rooted through the cupboard, finding such a cup.
"Okay, so we need to add three cups of water and a cup of butter." Cain inatructed. Angel reached into the sold storage bin and tossed several sticks of butter into a cup wrapper and all. She then tossed the sticks into the mixing bowl, adding a few measuring-cup fulls of water to the bowl. She watched as the butter lazily floated to the surface with silent anticipation.
"It's not working." She said dissapointed.

[Stella Gaslight]

"What do we have to do to make this in to food?" Angel asked poking at the floating butter.  Cain deciphered the next line of the box.  "I think we have to melt the butter first."

Angel pulled the butter from the bowl and gave it a through looking over. "Can we use the fire thing?" Angel said pointing to the stove.


Emma sighed "Well if there is a threat looming all the better to get this done as soon as possible. I was hoping we could get it mounted near the bow of the ship.  I was thinking that would give us the widest range but we also need to makes sure the photosensitive orbs can get the light they need." She showed him the fragile looking build on the back that was going to house the glass orbs.  "I haven't come up with a very good way of protecting them.  The model I based my design off of was more or less stationary but ours needs to be a bit more nimble. Mainly it will be able to take out large swathes of cold ones without us ever being at risk.  We are going to need all the weaponry we can get."   

[MWBailey]

"For the globes, what about cages of metal roundstock, like they are starting to use on electric lights on Ocean liners now?" Dreyfuss suggested. "sort of like lantern mullions without the glass, but made of heavier stock."
Dreyfuss looked at the globe housing on the back of the gun tube, and idly asked, how powerful would this gun be? could it be used against a non-Cold Ones target? say, another airship, or maybe a land 'clad? They might start using Jannissaries, or just plain mercs to soften us up, or try to."

[Stella Gaslight]

"That could work." Emma bit her knuckle, a sign Dreyfuss was beginning to recognize meant that the small inventor was contemplating something.  "We would need to go get more metal from some of the Aether League ships I hadn't accounted for caging the bulbs in the supplies list.  I as long as the ship can burn it should be quite effective but a iron clad might take a bit more force to do any damage. I am not entirely sure of the range, like I said the one I saw was stationary so they just fired as the enemy made it to the steps.  It should function like my microwave gun on a grand scale.  It can burn humans but it wont effect them nearly as much."

[MWBailey]

Abe asked, If the two of you don't mind, I think I will go and get Rosie a bowl of milk, she seems hungry."

Dreyfuss said, " I was wondering why she seemed to be singing. She's been such a good helper, too. Sure, go ahead." Abe called Rosie and went to fetch her the bowl, while Dreyfuss began to sketch an odd-looking form on a scrap of paper from under the table...

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss said, "for the 'extra power' bit, now bear in mind I dont really know that much about this, but I do remember seeing one, or at least a picture of it a few years ago; once you start it going it supposedly powers itself and also generates large amounts of static electricity." Dreyfuss felt a little explaining was in order.

"That was my first year on the um, Mad Anthony, and they used those damned clay-jar batteries for everything," he said as he sketched, "I was casting around for ideas on getting more power (the electrics were abysmal, as I 'm sure you can imagine), we couldn't really afford the extra weight that dynamos weighed back then, and I read about this thing in, I think, the Indianola Tribune, they said it that a small table model could produce several hundred volts within about four minutes, and increase after that."  He made a few passes with the graphite stick, then,  "there, that's about it."

The crude drawing showed a tower with a largish, hollow ball or bulb for a head, and a belt that ran from the braod base of teh device to the bulb on trop and rubbed against something in the tower shaft. "I'll be damned if I can remember the name of it, though, Van Daft or something like that." Dreyfuss apologized.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Cain nodded, then realizing the sheer capability of burning the stove had. He imagined poor Angel suffering some terrible burn. His more reasonable mind told him she was designed for battle and burning her hand on a stove would probably have little if any effect. However, his caring mindset took over, declaring it far too dangerous for such a gentle thing as Angel.
"Er, I'll handle the stove, you mix the water with the powder in the box and I'll melt the butter." He said, retrieivng a sauce pan from the cupboard and setting it on the glowing blue plates of aetherically heated oven. He placed the sticks into the pan after inwrapping the rectangles of dairy.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Elisha walked to the steering room.

"I don't think we're much off course, Captain. Are the repairs done?"

"Yes, Patrick managed to have it done it very little time. I think we're about ready to start up again."

"Alright, sir."