"STEAM LONDON" Game Thread

[MWBailey]

"I am sorry Irene, I hope I did not harm you," he said, striving in vain to keep the sob from his voice. But he knew it was not enough. He had lost yet another relative, or lost her trust, and that was much the same thing. Dashing the tears from his eyes, he turned away so the others and Irene would not see -- but not so far that he could not keep an eye on the girl. WHY did he admit that about Morganta? Dammit, they already half believed him to be some kind of psychotic monster, they were bound to... now they'd know he killed his own true love; to protect his family, yes, but people seldom understood about such things, or at least angry citizens didn't.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

"Is everything alright?"

Elisha turned to see that Captain Hudson had arrived. The Boheme was secure. Around them, St. Petersburg burned in silence. Elisha looked at Irene. He was uncomfortable with such...uncertainty before they took this task. But he would have to make do.

He walked up to them. He felt the ground shake again like it had when they first arrived. Something dark was definately still here.

"Are you all ready?" he said. "It's now or never." They all nodded. George had appeared and floated close to Ella, keeping an eye on Irene.

They made their way towards the Winter Palace, which was stained by the scars of war. In the square in front of it, they came across Patrick, Jen, Angel and Cain. To Elisha, it looked like he was looking at four divine beings. Scraps stood beside them, a makeshift behemoth. Elisha felt something move by his feet. Sweets. That darned cat always seemed to turn up around him when there was danger....

"Alright." said Captain Hudson. "I think we can all feel what's here. Explanations aren't needed."

Elisha nodded. He gripped Ella's hand. This was the moment he dreaded - and the moment he knew he could not fail.

They walked up to the front door of the palace, still  unbroken. Elisha watched as they prepared themselves in their own ways. Captain Hudson had taken out his airman hatchet, gently swinging the weapon while looking ahead, determined but cool. Emma looked a bit pale, but her large weapon was a morale booster - she checked it again to ensure it was working. George floated silently, shimmering in the dark, looking at Emma. Even in his changed state, Patrick was still giving his familar grin, even if there was a slight grim twist to it. His boxgun and saber were held at the ready. Jennifer stood beside him, a pale apparition of holiness, with swords glowing in the night, twirling them nervously. Trip held up his electric gauntlet, nodded as the sparks crackled between the fingers, his other hand at his belt, ready to unleash lightning and death. Abe looked nervous and stroked Rosie. However, he held his darts in a firm grip, flight not being an option now - he would fight to the death. Rowland was also ready despite the task, a gun charged by aether cradled in his hands while he stared up at the building through his glasses, with the determination of a scientist. Irene stood with the knife clutched in white knuckles as she looked to Dreyfuss. Dreyfuss simply looked prepared, with saber and all his guns ready to kill. Ella was beside him with the large pistol he had given her, loading in rounds while the shell launcher was strapped across her back. He knew that she would stand with him and he would stand with her. He checked his rifle, sliding rounds into the chamber. He reattatched his respirator. He watched the bayonet glint. He was ready. And then there was Angel and Cain, standing together. Constructs that were more caring than most people even while they had greater power.

They were an odd, eccentric and potentially unbalanced group. But they were that simply because they were different, in little ways that elevated them. Their skills were varied and deadly when used together. They were the best at what they did. And tonight, that was going to be saving the world.

Hudson stepped forwards. He smashed his axe into the thick door three times, kicking it open. The fourteen unlikely heroes walked together inside, not knowing what to expect. The main entrance seemed empty. The grouped in a circle. Elisha looked around.

"There's nothing here..." he muttered.

Angel looked at him, honestly afraid.

"No. She's here."

Elisha though he heard...no, felt a noise. It seemed to be moving under his feet. Something was not asleep below the Palace. He wondered what the others were thinking. These may be their last thoughts.

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss turned to Irene, to see her looking at him. His heart was full at that point; full of grief for what he believed he had lost by his own hand, full of love for the cousin who dared to think for herself. She was so much like him in her despair, her cynicism; he hoped that was not what he had taught her. "Irene, I know that you probably do not want to hear much of anything that I have to say at this point," he said. "Please, trust Emma; trust our companions. I do not expect you to trust me; that would be asking too much right now, but I tell you that you can trust me."

"I forgive you, Irene. I hope that someday, you will be able to find it in your heart to forgive me."

"Now: We are warriors of the clan o' Dreyfuss! Let's us go and destroy this evil!"

[MWBailey]

The Potemkin sped through the night, the infamous Hell Galleon speed eating up the miles. Repairs to the hull had been makeshift at best; not expecting any resistance in London, the Admiralty had opted to leave such stores as repair materials in St. Petersburg. they expected to decimate London's population and had thus been unprepared to handle massive battle damage. but their sister ship's sacrifice had boughht them precious time, so they slowed down, taking their time; no sense wasting fuel or the Captain's strength.

It was an hour after sunset that shells began to pepper the Potemkin; The Lafitte had found them after all! The Captain  throttled up to flank speed, and sped away, the searchlights of teh Lafitte still focused on her hull, the Lafitte still firing. Things suddenly did not look so rosy for teh russian airship...

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Sir, something is  showing up on the radar!" A terrified soldier cried as he eyed the radar of the last opf the once proud digger fleet.
"What is it??" The commander demanded, looking to the green-tinted screen.
"I don't know, but it's moving fast!"
Their terror was made suddenly very substantial as a terrible metal screech resonated through the cockpit. Bright sunlight poured into the machine, giving Shai the appearance of some divine punishment.
"Hello boys...." Shai gave a venemous grin.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"
The last of the diggers was gone within moments, a pile of slag was left in its place. The battle upon the ground was won, all that was left was to patch up the wounded.


Patrick clenched the butt of his heat-round rifle, loading several clips into the automatic ammunition feeder. His chest fluttered not with fear, but with anxiousness.
Cain looked to Angel, knowing if they all died here, or if she died afterwards they would be together for always...

I must admire your persistance humans. No matter what I have thrown towards you, you refuse to stop. However, such tenacity has become less like entertainment, and mopre like annoyance. You have intruded upon my property, wrecked my toys, and now....well now you're going to have to die...
A pair of soul-less yellow eyes penetrated the darkness of the room. Patrick  placed a hand uopn the wall of the room, letting his white fire repair the long burnt-out aetheric bulbs that once lit the queen's chamber which had once been the ball room.

The image of the queen was one of eldricht terror. Massive, lidless yellow eyes stared like pitiless moons into the souls of eac crew member. ITs black, serpentine body writhed and twitched with veins and muscles. Massive black tentacles squirmed and undulated, the thinnest being the thickness of a python.

It's face, however, was entirely different. It's face was that of an eerily beautiful human, or at least the idea of what a human might look like. Her pale, thin lips pulled back to reveal a mouth much like those of the bloow wyrms.
Now...Who wishes to be first?

[E.A. Claringbold]

Irene could not look at Emma. How surprising that just a moment ago, she had threatened her life and now after letting her go, Emma was ready to help in anyway. She looked to the snowy ground slightly out of shame and choked back a sigh that might have developed halfway into a self-pitying sob. Instead, she took a deep breath and spoke with a voice that wavered little.

“Help me get my daguerreotype back…”

To this, Emma agreed and Irene trusted her enough that if she did manage to get her hands on her photo she would not take it out of its frame and destroy it out of the sentiment of revenge.
She said nothing when Dreyfuss apologized. After all, what was there to apologize for? She had been the one to threaten the life of another, a close crewmate that he had known longer compared to her whom he had only recently met, of course he would put a gun to her head to stop her. She broke the trust first, so in turn the trust she had from him and the rest would be revoked. In her mind, it was reasonable and there was nothing too upsetting about it (other than the fact that she could have killed someone), but she heard the hurt in his voice. She pushed away the two grams of guilt that fluttered in; she was not supposed to care.

At one point, as they entered the palace, she stared at Dreyfuss wondering a number of things, as thought tend to fly, from how he was able to kill a one he loved so dear to why he had apologized. When he turned to see her, instead of looking away, she kept her gaze steady and met his eyes. She heard what he had to say and decided that this time instead of being silent, she would respond even with a little masked sneer when he mentioned ‘clan of Dreyfuss’.

“Damnit, Dreyfuss there’s nothing to forgive. You did what you had to do  and—“

She fell silent as she felt the presence stir and then looked to the terrible image of the Queen.

[Stella Gaslight]

Emma scowled this creature had killed her grandfather and countless others."You are not going to kill any of us."  She said through clenched teeth and ray gun fire.  The shots rippled in the darkness slowing and dissipating before they could reach the queen herself.   Upon hearing the Queen's voice Emma realized where her power to control wyrms came from.  Somehow she had been mimicking this horrible creature all along.  another voice came to the front now the same one that whispered in her dreams. "We come with the grace of the king, you have no power over us." She was being used as a mouthpiece again but at least this time it was a far more benevolent voice.

George wished he had his tank something was using Emma, driving her to the front when George wished she would stay behind the protection of the others.  He stepped forward with Trip hoping they could keep her safe.  Emma fired again and this time her shots hit home, still weakened but making it through. 

Angel knew the voice Emma was using and it shocked her, it was one of the makers she was sure of it.  She remembered the song she had heard the day she was born and tried to sing it.  She couldn't manage a complete reproduction of the harmonies but the queen still screeched with discomfort as it filled the room.   

[Nigel Wetherby]

Cain's deus blades glimmered as he charged at the queen, who simply flashed him a glare with yellow eyes, bombarding him with the final images and the pains of the victims of his other half. Cain stopped mid charge, a look of sickness crossing his face. His silent disgust was interrupted by the swinging of a massive black tentacle, which sent him into the hard, laquered ground.

Angel's song soon took to the air, it sounded weak at first. The song fluttered about like a wounded moth, until Cain began to sing through dented jaws. Cain's song wrapped around it, strenghtening and tempering it.
Patrick saw what they were doing and joined in the song himself, letting his song push Angel and Cain's hymn of battle further. The song was not yet strong enough to pull down the queen's barrier, but it still caused her to raise her tentacles to the sides of her head.
Scraps attempted to add to the effort, howling in a mechanical tune.

[MWBailey]

"Nothing to forgive? If you say so, Irene, and I will cherish that answer," but I did choose a friend over family, no matter how short a time I might have known her. I did what I did for you, no matter how twisted that may sound, because I do know the guilt that plagues one when one kills what should be dear to him or--or her. h efelt, finally, the reason why Irene had cut off in mid-sentence. that presence, and the movement below, as of something larger than the building  itself moving through the ground beneath them.

He followe dteh others as they respondedto teh queens query of who would want to die first.then he turned away for a moment and looked Irene full in teh face. "This is what we Dreyfusses do, Irene. from my father's and Uncle Caractacus's Father all the way back to 7th-century scotland, and all teh way to generations younger than you or I, we all fight the people who make life harder for the rest of humanity, as well as the things that go 'bump' in the night."  So, lets go give 'em a few more bumps to remember us by, eh?

HEaring the song, and the others joining in, Dreyfuss holstered the Paterson, scabbarded the Saber. He then dug two mondragons from the bag, and put them in his front coat pockets. He fished out the fife, and shrugging at the fool he must look like, began to play llike a virtuoso flautist performing his magnum opus, in support of the general song. He heard Irene and Abe join in then, and even Rosie, hissing and swelling the song into an indomitable (albeit rather weird)anthem; oddly enough, it sounded vaguely like Apple Blossom... then it segue'd into something like a very fast War Pipe Tattoo...

[MWBailey]

The troops and madboys aboard the Aether Leaguers Rookwood and Clemency gaurded teh Boheme for the heroes it had brought to the battle. They heard Angel's song begin; it was not audible immedately, but some of the effects of it were observable, such as the reverberation of the song in anything that was easily resonant; glasses, plates, saucers, windowpanes, guy wires, crewmembers' stringed instruments, any thing that could vibrate,did vibrate in resonance with Angel's song.

Then , aboard the Rookwood, teh Aetherphone operator called to the captain of that vessel, "Sir! Aetherphone contact; it sounds like a running airship battle, and the signal is getting stronger!"
"Put it on the loudspeaker, Mr Tippes," the captain told the operator.

Lots of static and weird rising and falling tones issued from the speaker; then they heard it. The Clemency called the Rookwood, to tell them to listen in, about at the same time that the Rookwood called the Clemency. Both ships listened to the sounds of teh last hours of the Hell Galleon Potemkin...

"Hell Galleon Potemkin! Heave To, cut engines, and surrender! you cannot escape, and we outgun you ten to one!"
Someone, apparently an Occultist, got on the aetherphone from the Potemkin, and tried to argue with the Lafitte...

"War Zeppelin Jean Lafitte, you are committing an act of war by continuing to pursue us!"

"Potemkin, a state of war has existed between Texas and the Empire of the Russias ever since your Omersmerti fleet tried to invade our borders.  You WILL surrender, now, or you will be shot from the sky. Do you copy?!"

An artillery shot sounded over both the aether, and more distantly, over the outside air as teh Lafitte fired a shot over the bow oif the Potemkin. It apparently detonated on the ground below and slightly in front of teh Potemkin, but the sound had an immediacy that was disconcerting to say the least. looking out of teh portholes, many saw a puff of smoke and dust from the surface of the surrounding marsh. Caused by the warning shell?

Aboard the Rookwood, someone watching on the upper deck shouted out "THERE THEY ARE!"

And two shapes hove over the horizon, both forging quickly toward St. Petersburg, the smaller, obviously Russian, trailed smoke and flame from past hits and onboard conflagrations; every so often the smaller ship would fire back, hitting the larger one, but the larger ship either did not feel the effect, or its crew simply did not care. The Potemkin began weaving from side to side, trying to bring a broadside to bear....

[Stella Gaslight]

The song flowed out of Emma but it was not her voice instead she acted like a gramophone horn increasing and broadcasting the sound.  Her eyes were closed and she swayed with the rhythm seemingly completly unaware of the world around her.  The queen tried to take advantage of this and strike Emma but Trip and George caught her with twin raygun blasts instead.  The room was full of the smell of ozone and burnt flesh.

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Her barrier is down!" Patrick cried, opening fire and unleasing a blast of white fire from his gun.
"Give this bloated old hag hell!!"

Cain soared into the air on dented wings, divebombing at the queen and leaving a long, black gash across the terrible queen's pale face. Her ruby lips parted to reveal the disgusting maw behind them as she screeched in pain from the attacks. Her massive black tentacles flailed and struck wildly at the crew.

[Stella Gaslight]

The queen lashed out harder and harder if she could just stop that basted song things would go back to what they should be and these insects would be properly crushed.  Realty started to tremble as the queen tugged at Angel's memory with her own song.  Bright ones and cold ones were the same once and the programming to open the gate was within her all the queen had to do was fish it out. The code powering Angel's brain had not changes much from the time the queen had ruled all she had to do was find the right key word and that little thing would bring the deep ones home and the world would burn.

[E.A. Claringbold]

Irene was mildly surprised at herself, singing as she joined the others. She was not the kind to sing and never saw the need or want to, thus her voice was more or less always melodically silent, but today she joined in with the others. Hearing that the queen’s barrier was down, she moved closer and began to hack and slash at her black tentacles, ducking and sidestepping when it was necessary.  She evaded a whipping tentacle and crushed it underneath her booted heel. A second after she began to inflict pain on it a sister limb shot out and smacked her soundly enough to send her across a meter or so. Irene hit the floor and slid a bit as the rules of physics had predetermined.  Forcing back a developing headache, she blinked and stood when her hand found one of her blade’s handle back in her hand with a cough. Looking to her side, she saw that not too far off was the other and then she continued the song. As she headed towards the retrieval of her weapon, another black limb lashed out.  Irene’s hand had already pulled out the metal stick that was holding up what was left of her mussed bun and stabbed deep into the flesh with it, remembering not to hold too long. Having the second blade back in her hand, she continued doing her damage to the beast.

[Nigel Wetherby]

The queen's yellow eyes searched persistently for the secret that would unleash hell upon the world, but whenever she came close, something else popped up to block her way. It was like pulling away a mask to find another beneath it. The image of an iron tree wrapped with a silken flower continuously blocked any thoughts within Angel's mind.

A black tentacle snatched up Patrick, flinging him into the air so that he dangled precariously over the queen's mouth. Patrick simply laughed and grasped a handful of spare parts within his bag. He let the parts assemble themselves, fueled by the white fire. He filled the small gadget with as much of the holy flame as he could before chucking it down the queen's mouth.
The queen belched up acrid black ooze as the flesh of her gullet melted and expulsed from her inconceivable maw. in her hacking, she dropped Patrick, who landed on his back and seemed merely winded by the attack.

Her barrier down and wounds slowly making themselves known across her skin, the queen began to metamorphose. Her lips curled into a deadly smile before turning up towards the celing. Her body began to retract like an accordion. As she pulled back, a white, obscene orb emerged from her stretching red lips before rolling onto the ground with a wet Plop. The body of the queen seemed deflated, like a shedded dress or deflated airship envelope.

The white orb bloomed like a beautiful lotus to reveal something equally beautiful within, and even moreso horrible. The being was in no doubt a bright one, or at least she would be if not for the black designs that streaked across her skin in complex and unseemly patterns. The etchings of black upon her pristine skin seemed to intrude, as if not meant to be there, like metal weights made to hold down a beautiful songbird.
The queen showed her true form.

[Stella Gaslight]

The song was changing and realty was wavering.  Something large was tugging at the strings of the world.  The queen smiled unfurling wings who's beauty made Angel's look shabby in comparison.  It only took a moment for her to send a spray of feathers at the resisting construct.  They were stopped by Cain's open wings. Fine if she couldn't take the little construct apart she would stop that blasted song.  The queen moved with all the grace and beauty of a panther, a furious and dark fire built across her body swirling in to her hands. She shot it at Emma's defenseless form smiling. "Silence child."

George saw it and knew there was no way he could pull her out of the way in time.  He knew what he had to do and did it with out any regrets. "I love you Emma and I always will."  He said racing forward to meet the ball of black energy.  Emma realized what he was doing far too late and opened her eyes.  The following explosion rocked the very foundations of realty images of a thousand different maybes filled her eyes and sound roared so loud their was no room for anything else in her body. Everything was swallowed by blackness. 

She fell feeling hollowed out by the explosion, the reverberations echoed under her skin. She opened her eyes amazed at the fact she was alive.  "George are you alright?' She called and got no reply.  Emma tried to sit up but something was wrong with her right arm.  It refused to obey her commands, she stated to panic George never let her arm go like that. Silence rang in her head, she checked and her aetherphones were still firmly in her ears. She couldn't hear his heartbeat anymore, It had been the back beat of her life for years and now it was gone, He was gone. "GEORGE." She screamed as tears poured down her face.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick placed his hand on Emma's shoulders, his own eyes glaring towards the queen, though his eyes shimmered with pearls of salty tears.
Scraps lept towards the queen, clamping his red-hot jaws around the delicate, white flesh of the queen. Scraps didn't know much about bright ones or cold ones, but this lady was bad, and bad peoples needed to be bitten! The queen screamed in pain and looked down at the little metal dog.
"You incorrigable WHELP!!" the queen shrieked, her song becoming a timultuous symphony of rage as she kicked wildly, knocking the metal pooch off her ankle and sending him rolling along the floor.
Prepare yourself, you hollow-headed pile of scrap! She snarled, black fire materializing around her hands as she prepared to dissasemble the hapless construct.
Cain would have none of this.
Cain brough his deus blade down onto the queen's wrist. The fallen bright one's wrist hit the ground, sparks of black fire devoured the hand like paper in a normal flame.
YOU WORTHLESS, INSIGNIFICANT TRINKET!!! I WILL MELT YOU DOWN AND USE YOUR METAL TO CRAFT A DAGGER TO SLIT YOUR LITTLE ANGEL'S THROAT!
Cain was tired of this.
Cain was tired of the cold ones, and the lingering sadness of imagining Angel's death. He grasped the queen's flowing white hair and in a fit of rage, slammed her head into the elegant stone walls. He continued this viceral assault with all the tact and subtlety of an enraged gorilla. His tyraid was ended when the queen grasped both his arms and tore the limbs clean off.
Cain stumbled backward, amazed for a moment before the queen grasped him by the stump of his left arm and sent him flying through the air. He landed with a sickening Crack, splinters of wood flew into the air as Cain left a deep dent within the shimmering white floor.

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss stopped playiung, stuffed the fife in his bag, and pulled bothmondragons from his pocket, pulling the ring on the first one, spittoing it out, and throwing the grenade into the gullet of the queen as she opened her mouth, apparently to scream at him. HE had meant it to merely bounce off, maybe break a tooth or something, but was shocked when it went in the mouth and down her throat.

He drew his sword then, hacking and slashing at her arms and face, determined to keep the foul monarch occupied until the grenade detonated. "FIRE IN THE HOLE! " HE shouted, after thirty seconds, and suddenly the grenade exploded, blasting the queen's innards out from the inside as she side-swiped Dreyfuss with a frantic, tentacular, handless arm, slamming him into the elegant Wainscoting nearly one hundred feet behind him.

"DREYFUSS!" someone shouted, and he blacked out for a moment...

[T.Taylor the Third]

TRip stood Stuned "ge---George?" he looked at emma, her eyes overflowing. He stood standing there looking at the queen "d$#e you."  he said as he wached cain have his arms ripped out.then drafuss went down
He pulled out his electrosword and pushed a butten on his teleporter-pack  
He reappeared directly in front of the queen, his sword ready.
"B#%ch"
He swung down
He sword cut from her shoulder to her stomach
He thought that was the end of it, but than white tenticals grew from both sides of the wound pulling the queen back together, it happended so fast Trip couldnt react.
HOW DARE YOU TOUCH ME
The queen snarled and smashed him across the room smashing him into the wall
he was out cold

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Cain was down. Dreyfuss was firing, Rowland beside him with the aether gun. He watched her swat Abe's massive dart out of the air like a bothersome fly. She was advancing.

"Elisha!" said the Captain. "We need to hold her off up close. Cain needs Angel and time to repair!"

The Queen materialized her own wicked blades, a strange shifting shape with many edges. She could extend these at will. Elisha watching in horror as she implaed Hudson through the shoulder, sending him shooting into the wall, then releasing and letting him fall. Abe snapped and attempted to rush her. The impact of the apeman was tremendous and she was pushed back. But then it was Abe who was tossed away.

We're just ragdolls to her, he thought. She'll take us one by one and grind us down. He grimly thought, the full mortals will go first, one by one snuffed out. Patrick and Jen may hold longer, then she'll finish Cain and rip Angel apart and the the whole world whimpers and dies.

The Queen began to move to where Cain fell. Suddenly, a hail of bullets stopped her, managing to make dents in her perfect exterior. A shell was lobbed at her - she sliced it in the air, but the explosion blinded her. Then, from out of the smog came vengeance. Elisha stabbed upwards with his rifle. To his, and the Queen's surprise, his bayonet managed to pierce her eye. There was a sound like shattering glass. Then the blades began to whirl and Elisha began to fight, moving as fast as he could to keep her back.

The Queen paused.

"Who the hell are you? You are a mortal but your interference is vexing."

Elisha's coat opened, cut and revealed his armour. The Queen noticed the raven ensignia carved onto it. She laughed, what looked like thick blood pouring out of where her eye had been.

"Oh, so that's it? They've decided to pick sides now, have they? No longer the meek bystanders, scavengers?"

Elisha ignored her, still going, spinning his rifle, ducking, rolling to leave only shadows to grasp at.

"They are so cruel aren't they? Won't tell you the truth? You're an unwitting avatar and you'll die for their arrogance."

Elisha felt himself falling back. Then the Queen's head snapped back. Ella had fired more shots into her face. A tentacle emerged from the Queen's back, knocking Ella down and spinning her around. Then the blades went forth. Elisha moved before he thought.

He stood there, beginning to register pain. He stood over Ella, who had gotten to her knees, his back to the Queen and his arms around her, hunched over her to protect her. He looked. A thin portion of blade was piercing through he stomach.

"Ella...I'm so sorry...I failed..."

Then he realized that to stab her, the blade had gone clean through him as well. That's what all the hurting was about then. He looked down. Clean through the armour. Damn. The blade withdrew and made a sickening sound. Elisha sunk down, still shielding her. He hoped that it hadn't hit any of her vitals.

"I'm sorry..." Damn. He wanted to keep going. Dreyfuss had better get a damn distraction so Patrick and Jen could get to Cain. This was going too fast...

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss came to slowly, the black mist slow and tardy in leaving his head and eyesight. H ewas aware that he had hit the wainscoting very hard, and as he looked around him with his returning eyesight, he saw that the stuff must have cushioned his impact, for he was sunk in a distance of at least two feet. He strained and bent and twisted out of teh hole his butt and back had nmde, and straightened, no apparent permanent damage having been done,
which was phenomenal.

But the Queen fought on, as did Cain, and Angel, adn Patrick, adn to some extent Elisha and Ella. they were tiring visibly, however, and Dreyfuss knew they needed help, fast. He found the other mondragon grenade still in his left hand; he unclipped the Carbine and aimed a shot at the queen, through a sudden opening in the athers' attacks, and was gratified to see that it was still in serviceable condition. HE fired thirty or more successive plasma shots into the Queens torso, watching with savage glkee as she began to smoke, and then the flesh burst into flame around the bullet wound, and she shrieked with renewed agony.
YOU BASTARD! YOU INSUFFERABLE OLD FOOL! DIE!!!
And she spat one of her energy blobs at him. EH had no time to dodge; it came on too fast. so, he did the only thing he could think of.

Uncle Caractacus had tried to help him do it when he tested young Jaisen for magical ability all those years ago. "now, just relax, boy, and imagine yourself inhaling the power from the flame..." The ball of energy became, in his mind, a very hot, powerful flame, and he concentrated on drinking it in, and then the world went all rosy-yellow, fiery, and he felt like he was on fire, white and red and gold fires burning all over his body, yet not touchinghis skin. it was still hot, though, so hot he could not endure it, and began to scream, the fire billowing out of his mouth.

Well, I'm done for now anyway, he thought, Might as well vomit some of this on her Royal arse... and he proceeded to face the queen, dousing her with the fire born of her energy ball, continuing as if he were a firehose and she a campfire gone wrong. HE watched as the queen seemed to diminish, growing smaller and fading... and then the fir ewas gone, and he collapsed to the floor, laughing silently, uproariously at the utter improbability of it all...

Laughing? STOP LAUGHING! STOP! NOOooooo...!
Dreyfuss propped himself up on his arms and began to rise, still chuckling, to face the now-shrieking Queen, shrieking  verily; it was as if she saw some horror that no one else could glimpse...

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Elisha!!!" Patrick yelled, one by one his comrades were falling, and he couldnt stand it any more. He dropped his guns and grasped the hilt of his rapier. He was done with the loud machines that she knew so well. He needed something older, something more primal...The steel of the rapier sang to him, it sang of villains vanquished in the hands of its former master. Patrick turned to Jen and gave a stern nod. She grasped the hilt of her gun and sword. Jen let loose a swarm of screaming bullets which Patrick wrapped in white fire. The holes filled the queen's body and burst within seconds, liberating her from her one good arm. Cream-colored slime splattered upon the floor.


Damn you all! Damn you all to hell!!
"Shut up you old bitch!!!" Patrick screamed. All the might of the bright ones was carried in his steps as he powered towards the queen, sweeping the  Rapier  across the queen's neck. The cut Patrick left was brutal and coldly efficient, the queen's neck split open with the disturbingly deep wound.
The queen wrapped her hands around her throat, falling to the ground and unable to do much else but lay there and seeth in hatred as the concious crew began to surround her. The queen

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss stood there, chuckling, no longer caring what the queen did to him. Hehad finally done somethingthat Uncle Caractacus had tried to teach him, and he was elated, now, but then his glance showed him Elisha, laying on top of Ella, the sword wound in his back looking as if the sword had nailed both of them... that was far too much. NO! noooooooooooo!!!

He Screamed in both the physical world and the mental, then, his denial and his anger becoming palpable things, overtaking him, and he did not call teh white fire; he grabbed it, took hold of it, and pulled it to him whether it wante dto come or not, and then proceeded to blast the Cold One queen with it, blasting her back against the wall as if with a firehose spouting pure white-hot flame, setting the wood and the very stones afire, not caring if her head already dangled from her hands...

DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!

Thenthe fire was spent, and he knelt in the agony of loss and spent fire, feeling burnt from the inside out, and utterly alone, chuckling madly at the utter insanity of it all, and then sobbing, the anger welling up again, his hands glowing, until he forced himself to swallow the anger, forced it and the white fire back into their separate prisons within his mind...

[Nigel Wetherby]

The queen stood up, shaking as her flesh  melted from her bones. Her half-skeletonized form leaned foreward.
NO NO NO NO NO THIS CAN'T HAPPEN!! The queen screamed.
It can and it will. A voice from only story and myth resonated with the light in the air itself. Cain stood up, white light radiating from his body. The great maker himself speaking through the noble construct.
Brother! How dare you defeat me with such pitiful playthings as humans!
Because sister, you needed the lesson in humility Cain let hands of pure white light appear where they would have been should his arms still be attached. He wrapped both lights around the queen's song.
NOOOOOOOOOO!!! NO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO! I REFUSE TO RETURN TO THE VOID! I REFUUUUSSEEEE
The queen's voice vanished, her body melting  like hot wax.
The white light that bathed Cain dissapated, leaving a terribly confused looking construct standing befoire a puddle of white goo.

[MWBailey]

Outside, the Lafitte began to reduce the Potemkin right in front of the Rookwood and Clemency; those on board literally felt the impacts and detonations of the Lafitte's shells as palpable blows, and felt the heat of the Potemkin's final, blazing moments, as she began to sink to the marsh below, the Captain screaming in agony, as it roasted alive within the blazing hulk... Finally, the Potemkin fell, creaking and groaning and plummetting the final sixty feet to the ground, and then all of her ammunition that had not been spent in the fight exploding, completely obliterating the amidships shape of the vessel.

Every soul on the Rookwood and on the Clemency cheered wildly, and hails went back and forth for some time between the three ships. A meeting was scheduled and held, and many necessary decisions were made. In the end, it was decided to assemble a multinational party to aid and take care of the wounded and the inevitable dead of the heroes of the Boheme, and to allow a delegation of Officers from the Lafitte to find and retrieve and/or rescue Jaisen Dreyfuss for the the voyage back to England. It was also agreed to allow the C.O. of the Lafitte to lead the retrieval/rescue team as he was an old friend of Dreyfuss'. "Wait a minute," one of the stenotypists asked just as the meeting was about to adjourn, "Who is the commander of the Lafitte?"
Our C.O.? Fleet-Captain Hargood Padilla Mondragon..."