"STEAM LONDON" Game Thread

[Nigel Wetherby]

Cain's mind was terribly fevered with what he could do to save Angel. He knew that the time in which the queen would die came closer and closer, like the date of an execution the passing days rang like the horrifying dirge of a funeral bell. He was nowhere near as good at hiding his fear as Angel, but did his best, holding her close and enjoying the warmth she gave him. With her around he felt more than a machine, more than the sum of his parts. He was Cain O'Landry with Angel beside him. But if....when she shut down, he would become naught but metal, wire, and Deus alloy.
He found himself pondering keeping the queen alive somehow. Maybe Patrick could place her soul in a machine like he did with scraps and him. The idea gave him some hope.

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss, for his part, prepared in the usual ways; he restocked his provisions of powder and shot, fille dhis bandolier and cartridge pouches with .454 rounds, and on every single bullet he inscribed a heat rune. He also egraved every usably-sized steel ball that he could commandeer with teh same runescript; even though the coilgun spat them out so fast that they kindled from the friction with the very atmosphere around them, it seemed a good precaution to apply heat runes anyway just in case. He also taught Irene teh basic use of such things as the runes, in case she needed such in the coming years.

HE also tried a few experiments of his own, involving the unstable Mondragon grids; used in conjunction with a spoken cantrip or spell, they could be made to stay inert until used, and then power up almost instantaneously, and build within a few seconds to a violent detonation; the three or so miniature grenades that he built would have barely ranked as firecrackers if done with black powder; done with the grid, they were as powerful as industrial-grade blasting caps.

The twenty or so full-sized examples (they looked like flasks such as one would secrete in a cane) would be as powerful as the old glass French Grenades had been. Emma was intrigued by his tiny tubes of thaumic havoc, and suggested many improvements which proved to render them much more stable and effective, and negated the need to be used by someone with "the spark,"

Dreyfuss Suggested to Emma a modification of the Aether Suppressor Grenades, to be used against the blood magus, Brian: a containment field, much like the one used against the Boheme's crew in Shanghai, coupled with an Aether Suppression device that cut off all power, instead of trying to blast his power with even more power. "Maybe then we can buy ourselves some time for getting things done, if we meet up with him," he said.

[Stella Gaslight]

Angel looked at Cain nervously.  She had been putting this off for quite some time but it could be put off no longer.  "Cain I think we need to talk to Patrick.  Because the battle is coming and after it will be too late."

Emma worked like a mad woman stopping only when George fed her or Trip carried her off to bed.  They got along surprisingly well as long as they both focused on taking care of her and were seldom in each others company with out her.  She kept the busy with supply orders and frequent messages to the The Clemency and The Rookwood who had formed a tight guard around The Boheme.  The hall around her lab was always full of sounds and smells when Emma wasn't working Rowland or Trip was.  Weaponry flowed out of the room and in to Patrick's hands.  Emma was good at design and building weapons but Patrick was becoming a master at tactical deployment.

George was put in charge of making enough aetherphones for an army and Trip found himself telling quite a few interested members of the league about his advances in electricity. All in all the crew of The Boheme found themselves being treated like stars of the stage or perhaps famous athletes. It was strange that suddenly they were thought of as experts.  Emma knew that even after this battle they would not return to obscurity, their fortunes had changed.   

[E.A. Claringbold]

She sat for a while in her cabin, staring at meaningless things with sightless eyes thinking thoughtless thoughts. It was no time to be drifting, but she let her mind drift for a short while. Irene held the letter that Dreyfuss had given to her with words of preparation for the worst realistically. Such a sad expression permeated her exterior that one might have thought it romantic until the other side, perpetually flawed, was spied. Placing the letter into a pocket on the inside of her dark green coat, she stood and checked what she had. Two simple handguns, revolvers, with only one extra package of ammo and one trusty short sword were her predictable conpanions.

Coming out of her cabin, she wandered her way around to look for more possible weapons and came upon Dreyfuss as he was preparing arms. He brought her closer to the things he was working on and taught her  basic and necessary things. With what she had freshly learned, she applied to her bullets. Afterwards, she went about looking for another short sword to add with her associates and possibly other short blades. Other than that, she helped the crew as she could and when there was nothing else for her to attend to, stayed out of their way.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick did his best to assist Emma in her designs for weaponry, helping streamline the aetheric weaponry and heat-rune infused bullets. Jen was in her room, gazing into the mirror that showed a creature that seemed beyond humanity. Her hair was now silver-white. Her golden eyes and cross-shaped pupils hidden beneath stained heat-sensetive goggles. She wrapped herself up in a dark green robe, hiding her practically glowing white skin. She resembled an abstract representation of an angel without wings. She took solace in the idea that Patrick was experiencing the same changes, though he was becoming intergrated with a hyperintellegent ancient computational device. Which was probably his fantasy made real. She looked at her ring and let out a contented sigh, glad she was marrying that mad monkey.

Cain nodded and headed to the deck where Patrick was showing a group of Aether Leaguers how to use a recently created item called "tesla's fist" A collaboration of Emma, Patrick, and Trip.
Cain watched as a line of would-be soldiers driving steel fists arching with electricity into the heads of several unlicky dummys who yielded to the attack with a deafening "CRACK"

[Stella Gaslight]

Angel tugged on Patrick's sleeve, worry written across her face. "Um Patrick can you take a look at me? I have a bit of programing I would like to deactivate." She really didn't know how to put her fear in words but she hoped he could help.

Shai was preparing too and missing One. She knew he had a mission he had to complete but that didn't stop her from wishing he would come back.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick turned to Angel, a look of sleep-deprived weariness crossed his face. Cain lept backat the hald-dead looking young man. White glowing marks of deus power crawled wearily up the side of his face like lethargic sikworms. His eyes had become cream colored orbs that pulsed with an eerie white light. His own transformation was nearing completion. His once vibrant red hair looked as if it had been washed out halfway, leaving hints of crimson amid his head of almost pure white hair. He seemed terribly oblivious to the changes.

"Programming? What kind?" His voice had not changed, nor had the excitement he had gotten in his voice at the opporunity to tinker.

[Stella Gaslight]

"I think I may have a program that will shut me down when the cold ones are defeated.  I...I don't want to go away and leave my Cain.  I want to stay with him for always.  Please can you help me."  She clung to Cain like he was a rock in a storm.  He would make it better he just had to.

[Nigel Wetherby]

"I ain't sure..." Patrick said, scratching his chin casually. An astute observer may have noticed just a hint of a whitish red goatee forming.
"Warrior constructs are terribly hard to build. I've been tryin' to make 'em too! I think only makers are privy ta that knowledge..."

A look of heartbroken terror crossed Cain's face. Would she truely fall lifeless when the queen was killed?

[Stella Gaslight]

"I know you might not be able to help but come with me and look."  She took Patrick's hand and took both him and Cain back to the room they shared.  Angel slipped behind the changing curtain Patrick had put up for Jen and stepped out again holding her skirt to her chest for modesty's sake.  She looked somehow fragile exposed like that and Cain hovered worried by her side.  "Their should be a catch in between my shoulder blades."  Patrick found it and was surprised at the changes in her since he first repaired her legs.  Her skin had taken on a pale pink hue and a soft warmth just like human flesh.  Her back opened along the spine like a flower exposing her workings to the air.  Angel shivered at the chance in temperature.  "Can you see anything that looks like a deactivation mechanism?" Angel was looking at the floor she had never felt so vulnerable before.

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Good god. It's amazing!" Patrick cried out, running a finger across the length of her spine, letting the extra layer of computational ability that recently wrapped itself around his brain take in the information of her workings. Angel trembled and released a faint whimper, but her fear was called to an end when Cain hugged her. Holding her exposed form to his, though he was blushing as much as she was.

"There are several mechanisms here. High speed gyroscopic implants, weapon energy regulators...there is an unknown device here. I can't seem to get a solid read on it. It could be something important, I'm a little afraid ta remove it."

[Stella Gaslight]

His still human brushed the device and he was jolted by a shock.  Apparently Angel's builders did not want anyone messing with that.

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss' Preparations were completed when he found out that on eof the Aether League fellows on the R had a hat he had found along the way, that he said looked like something one of the boheme's crew might have lost.  Dreyfuss went to see him, and sure enough, it was Dreyfuss' old palmleaf Sombrero, with the Mounted Infantry cord still attached. He thanked the fellow, paid him a reward, and wore it back to the Boheme, his old pilot hood tucked away in his vest pocket once more, and a new full-sized (18 inch) bowie on his gunbelt, and the Toothpick back in his boot. He went to his cabin, and got the officer's coat, and his old cane, and put them on, then just in case, he fished the rope-and-grapnel out from unde rhis cot, and coiled it and put it over his shoulder. He felt more like himself.

After some thought, Dreyfuss realized that his Modragon grenades would not work as efficiently when the Aether suppression device (or devices) were used; he decided to only use the grenades as long as the device was not deployed; they would be just pieces of junk during a suppression stage. They might go off eventually, but he woudnt have any idea how long it would take until he tested one under those conditions, an dhe figured it best not to risk his or others' lives with such a test. He chuckled; Emma's idea of an arming pin seemed so obvious now; leave it in, and it blocked the collection-match circuit script. remove it, and the script was free to operate.

[Nigel Wetherby]

"GAH!" Patrick pulled his hand away, feeling the deus-layer that coated his mind tighten around his brain, causing a terrible spike of pain.
"Ow...I don't think yer makers wanted ye ta remove this. Sorry Angel, maybe you and Cain should make the most of the time you have left We're launching the final raid tomorrow."

[Stella Gaslight]

"Thank you." She said to Patrick as he closed the latch on her back.  "I am glad you tried."  Her voice was very calm now she was trying to accept that her life would end soon.  Angel let the skirt fall and stood naked in front of Cain. "Hold me for a little while." Cain looked lost and Patrick quietly left the room.  "This doesn't change anything I still love you for always.  Our marks will never fade and neither will your place in my heart." And she kissed him deeply and desperately like she was trying for a whole lifetime's worth at once.


Emma was frustrated they were running out of time and she felt like she had done nothing to prepare. She sighed perhaps she could go ring up a bandoleer for the Modragon grenades.  And there was the placement and deployment of the aether suppression devices.  She had a brainstormed about making each of the three units function both as separate zones and as one joined containment field.  Emma hoped that would be enough.
 

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Elisha watched the others prepare. He began to have an ominous feeling in his gut. He felt not physically tired, but mentally. He and Ella still sat in the lounge. He stood and took her with him to his room. He closed the door, glad that it was quieter. He sat on the bed and held her hand. He couldn't think of anything to say. He then realized that he was still holding her hand with his left, the replacement. He moved it away and switched hands.

He looked out the window at the dull sky. He just wanted more time. Why could there not be more time...

[Nigel Wetherby]

Cain kissed Angel back, pressing her nude form to his as if she were a warm blanket and he was freezing to death. Her warmth mingled with his own, their marks touching as his hand held hers. His Aetherium heart beat in his chest next to her own mechanical semblance of one. He wondered how they would finish the story. Would he tell the story of love that was for always, even after one had died? Or should he give the story a happy ending? Angel's kiss intensified, pulling him from his ponderings.
As Patrick left for the door, he noticed Angel looked terribly similar to a nude human female. He wondered why the bright ones might construct such a being when they themselves predated civilized man, before such a concept of beauty.

[Arabella Granger]

Ella chuckled softly. "I swear, if you apologize for touching me one more time I might have to hit you. How many times am I going to have to say it? I don't care about that sort of thing at all." She took both of his hands in hers, smiling and sitting down next to him. "I love you.. Nothing else matters."

She frowned, noticing the troubled look on Elisha's face. "What is it?"

[Stella Gaslight]

Angel tugged at Cain's shirt, she wanted his skin against hers.  "We are for always."  She murmured nuzzling his shoulder.  If all they had was one night she was going to make it one that would live in his memory forever.  She worried about Shai a little bit but then she decided the changes the cold ones worked on her most likely canceled the rest program.

Emma was writing letters to send to her family in case she did not survive the battle.  She would put them in George's care, he would defiantly survive.  Then she would rite letters for the rest of the crew and for Trip and George.  Emma knew out of all of them she was the smallest and weakest.  She had tried to change that bit she wasn't enough time.  Whatever happened tomorrow she was going to fight for her friends and her way of life.  If she died she was going to take a lot of cold ones with her. 

[Nigel Wetherby]

Cain realized what she asked for and slid off his shirt, exposing a thin, wory musculature wrapped in warm, pale skin. Her pink skin sstood out as it brushed against his marble-toned torso.
"Always." He replied. Though it was but a single word, it poured all his emotion into it. Every last drip of Cain was poured into the word. He ran his hand down the side of her cheek across the side of her neck, and down her shoulder, wanting to remember the touch of her skin forever.

Patrick walked into Jen's room, knowing Angel and Cain wanted to be left well-enough alone. He observed the newly converted bright one who looked at her uncovered self in the mirror. Her shroud and hat tossed to the floor, leaving her in naught but her own clothes. She was tired of hiding what she had become, if Patrick would embrace it, so would she. Patrick touched her shoulder, turning her away from the mirror, and planted a kiss on her cream-colored lips.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

"I'm..." He paused. This was difiicult to unravel. "I'm worried. This is something I know I have to do. That we all have to do. But it doesn't mean I'm not concerned. I can't imagine how powerful anything that can control an army this big could be."

He looked at her. He wanted to tell her to leave, to go before they all died. But he knew that wasn't what she wanted.

"And...I'm not scared of facing that. But...I don't know what I'd do if you were hurt."

He stopped. "I'm sorry. I'm not really good at talking like this. At thinking like this, actually."

He paused. "I always find it strange how people want to know how stories end. How they look to the back of the book. Endings are never satisfactory. They are saying goodbye...to something. It's the story itself that matters."

He was thinking of Patrick and Jen and Cain and Angel at this moment.

"But...I promise you I won't let anything happen to you. I won't allow that."

[Stella Gaslight]

Angel sung the song she had used to pull him to her side the first time and infused it with love. The song was soft and warm and it curled around Cain and said we will be all right.  In each others' arms time was tossed aside and forgotten.  All that mattered was she had him and he had her.  They danced and touched promising forever until the sun peeked over the horizon.

Emma clung to Trip like a lifeline, her dreams were fighting and victory interspersed with a booming voice that thrummed powerfully over her.  It promised the world and told her what she must do in song and words much like Angel.  She was swept away by the voice and it was not entirely pleasant.  Emma was being formed in to a fighter for a war that had been going on since the beginning of human history and she had no choice in the matter.

[Nigel Wetherby]

The sun rose high into the blue sky. Beneath the airships was a carpet of white clouds.
"The sky favors us today." Patrick said as he looked over the edge of the ship.
"It is as if nature itself wants us to win this war." Patrick chuckled.

Cain lay beside Angel, their song reached its end long ago, but its tune still reverberated through the walls and hull of the ship, radiating into the sky itself.

[Stella Gaslight]

Emma woke up with sun and started cooking the few breakfast things she knew how to make without major disasters.  When she was very nervous she tended to cook masive quantities to fill up time so their was a small mountain of food by the time the crew started filing in.  Angel was woken by the rich heavy sent of pancakes and was almost out the door before she realized she didn't have any clothes on.   

[Nigel Wetherby]

Cain blushed bright red when he recognized the same fact.
"Er...Angel."
Angel nodded, recognizing her foible. Cain had to admit though, she looked amazing nude. She reminded him of the painting of Venus on a half shell they saw in france, only she was far prettier than any godess could ever hope to be. He wrapped his arms around her, his shirt gone and his pants hanging halfway off, though he quickly pulled them off for modesy's sake.

Patrick headed into the galley, a grin across his face as he sat down and waited excitedly for a stack of flapjack. Scraps wagged his tail at Patrick's feet awaiting any errant morsels of pancake or sausage.