"STEAM LONDON" Game Thread

[Stella Gaslight]

George was certain he could fire the ray gun accurately Emma wasn't so sure herself but this was not the time to say so.  She stopped Patrick before he tried the door.  "George says it is locked. Do you think we can brake it down?" She said in the tiniest whisper she could mannage.  Looking between the two of them and the rather sturdy door it was obvious that they had a better chance of bouncing off rather than braking through. Emma was frightened, frustrated and desperately wishing she knew how to pick locks.

A suggestion from George had her digging through her tool belt hoping she had remembered to pack the concentrated organic solvent this morning.  Yes it was there!  Emma grabbed the tiny bottle triumphantly and splashed a little right over the part of the door that held the locking mechanism. It stared to hiss as it ate in to the wood. "On three." Patrick nodded sword ready.  Emma pulled her own weapon and took a stance George assured her would give him the most aiming flexibility. "1 2 3."  They both crashed in to the door. The wood holding the lock in place gave no more resistance than paper. Emma and Patrick burst it to the room with a shower of splinters.

[Mercury Wells]

Everyone looked towards the door, as it flew open with Miss Emma & Mr. Patrick following. Madam Lakshmi disarms Kabuki and throws him hard across the room with a loud unlady-like grunt. Then reaching for her weighted sash, as she stands, pulls it free ready to swing it at any-one who came close to her, but regardless of her own safety, Miss Emma steps infront of Madam Lakshmi to shield her.

There is a deafening silence in the lounge, as Mr. Patrick goes around collecting weapons from everyone, leaving nothing to chance including the semi-concious Kabuki who does not resist. Turning towards Miss Emma, who nods, places them on table in the corner and ordering Madam Laskhmi, Dyke and Ben towards Kabuki. Dyke checks Kabuki over for any injuries, picks him up and sits him in a chair.

Mr. Dyke's asks for a stiff Brandy for Mr. Kabuki, Mr Patrick motions with a nod towards the table. Dyke pours a large brandy and takes to the semi concious man.

"Now what on earth is going on?" asks Miss Emma in a loud and clear voice. Everyone starts to speak at once. "

"QUIET!!, now please...before we carry on, does the Oriental Gentleman need any medical attention?"  Miss Emma had the feeling they would be talking for quite some time and even if he had threatened Madam Lakshmi she didn't want to be responsible for his death.

Mr. Dyke shakes his head and with a wry smile replies, "He will only suffer a bruised ego nothing more", smiling at Madam Lakshmi.

"Captain Hudson can you please tell us what has happened". Emma asked

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick eyed the weapons he had taken from the unwanted guests of the ship. He stuffed the weapons in a large, burlap sack and hoisted them over his shoulder. "Sorry pals, but we cant be havin' no sudden acts o' treachery!" he said as he managed to place into his bag several weapons the guests had thought they had hidden on their persons. One does not live aboard a pirate ship 4 years without learning a few slight of hand tricks.

[Ben Hudson, Esq.]

'My pleasure,' said Ben. He fiddled with a length of sturdy cord. The men did not look like resisting, so he kept hold of it. 'These are the gentlemen behind the mysterious message we received by pigeon...' Patrick looked blank, until Emma filled him, and the others who weren't there, in on the details. '... claiming there was a traitor on board. I didn't want to believe it, and it turns out that I was right. More of a plot to take over our ship. Their employer has something against our voyage.'
Lakshmi joined in. 'You, Dyke. Who is paying you?'
Dyke shrugged. 'You know I cannot tell you, madam. He was most... insistent that his identity remained... private.'

[Doctor Trakov]

The airship's engines spluttered into motion. Soon, though, more of the Royal Airship Navy was on their tail. The Count simply watched.
"Lelyushenko, increase speed. Vladimiorovich, watch the British. Kushka, you man the rear gun. Do not let them think we are any more than petty pirates. *aside, to the cat* Now, what do you think. Not saying anything? Oh well, you don't talk anyway. Why did I save you? I don't even like cats. Do you want a sardine? Obviously."
Lelyushenko fiddled with the levers. He was not a fan of Infernal combustion.
" Your grace, they're gaining!"
"Very well. Increase altitude."
"But.."
"Lelyushenko, do as I say. NOW"
Lelyushenko sighed as he pulled the lever. It got colder.
Unknown to them, a great tentacled shape  was writhing in the clouds, waiting.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick grinned at the intruder who refused to divulge important info, he handed Emma the sack of weapons, opened his tool box. Drawing from it a pair of miniature boltcutters. "Who here is good at medicine? I'll be needing someone who can stop bleedin when limbs or appendiges are removed..." He said with a devilish grin, acting he had learned aboard a pirate ship. He twirled the tool between his forefinger and thumb and began to hum a jolly little sea shantie.
Fabrice walked foreward, he gave a bit of a signal to her with a nod of his head, Emma understood as well.
"Patrick! Please not another! I'm still getting the blood out of my best hat from that chef who put red beans in your curry!" Patrick put on his maddest grin, "Oh but it would be so loveley to hear them scream!"
Fabrice grabbed his arm. "Patrick! NO! Please! I beg of you, They dont deserve it! What if they have wives!?"
Patrick pretended to pull against her and break free, holding the cutters menacingly to their faces.

[Stella Gaslight]

Emma was ashamed to admit that Patrick was a better actor than she was.  Watching him threaten the tied up men she felt a chill down her spine.  Emma found herself slipping in to character something calm and ruthless to match him.  It was a game she had played often with the actors that lived near her house in Boston.  George was quietly searching the intruders before them and finding some rather odd things.

Emma spoke just loud enough to be heard. "Orders in his front waistcoat pocket you say. Unsigned and type written, well bother that is no help but the Russian tattoos on both their necks are unusual.  They really say unit 189 and 157 respectively, Humm that is interesting."  Their eyes were on her nervous and confused and she smiled smug and cold like a cat with a cornered mouse.   

"Well you were rather smart to come without identification on you but as you can see there is no way for you to hide anything from us.  If I can't see it Patrick here will gladly bleed it out of you but I would rather avoid staining the nice furnishings if we could."   Emma stopped and looked among the luggage the two men had brought aboard finding a rather nondescript brown valise. 

"I better go take care of this."  The two restrained men went pale as Emma picked up the bag and calmly took it out of the room.  She was fighting hard to stay in character as fear broke through her facade.  It was only after the valise had a through soaking in the rain barrel she was able to calm down.  She pulled it out still dripping, it's continents ruined and walked back to the lounge. 

"So were you going to blow yourselves up with us or did you have some grand escape plan?  Well either way I have put an end to that"  Emma said cheerly opening the bag to reveal wet and useless explosives with an odd device attached to the top most likely a timed detonator.  There was a sharp intake of breath followed by muttered exclamations from all around the room.  Dyke & Kabuki went as white as fresh paper but their expressions were blank.

Something went wrong and George yelled at her to cover her mouth just moments before a strange sickly sweet smell enveloped the room causing the crew of the Bohème to cough and rub at watery eyes.  George could tell it was coming from Dyke & Kabuki but could not figure out how they were doing it until he noticed that they were shrinking like ice in hot water. "What do you mean melting? Thats not possible." Emma exclaimed trying to cover her eyes an mouth at the same time but it was true.  Both men were somehow rapidly melting away in to the atmosphere and there was nothing they could do to stop it.  Then they were gone leaving empty ropes and a mild chemical smell.  Unless they had found some way to fool George's eyes they were truly gone.

Emma dropped her calm facade crawled in to a chair finding her knees rather weak.  "Oh not again.  I can't take any more vanishing people today George." She nearly wailed pulling her knees to her chest.  "Apparently our melted guests have nearly identical un-tattooed and rather rumpled twins that are currently headed this way with some other men carrying what looks like quite a large store of ammunition.  At least none of them have bombs well except for grenades and those are in a well marked box so I don't know if they count." 

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick had used the collar of his shirt as an air filter, watching the two spies melt, his eyes widened with shock and a hint of nausia. "I've seen blokes blown to bits with cannons, fried by Aether rays, disintegrated, and eaten by cannibals, but i never did see a bloke melt like ice on a hot pan! Really makes ya think about things."
George retorted "It must be a new experience for you, would you like me to walk you through it?"
Patrick would have yelled, but he then realised the grimness of their situation.
"Still got that raygun Emma?"

Emma held up the gun. Patrick simply smirked. "I'm gunna need ta borrow that fer a sec." He said with an impish grin. He passed around guns from his bag, and a few of his own inventory. For fabrice: An armor peircing metal disc launcher patrick ahd constructed from the remains of an old airship propeller system;
For Emma: A rather long-barreled sniper rifle with a wide end;
For the captain an automatic miniature gatling gun.

Patrick began to spread fair warning with each weapon. "Emma, ya wanna fire that in a confined space like a hallway, the backfire will hurt a bit, but better a sore shoudler than bullet to tha brain, look through the glass and find what ya want, and just squeeze tha trigger.'
"Now, Fabrice, yer's has a tendacy ta bounce off walls, so make sure ye fire straight and get outta the way and stay hidden till tha blades shatter.'
"As fer you Sir, yer gun'll want ta be pullin yer arms upward after every few shots, so every foourth round ya shoot, stop, aim and shoot another four, repeat till no one fires back at ya."
Patrick's mannerism had indeed become that of a military expert. He grabbed his Ray gun and began to knock over tables and chairs and shelves for cover.

"If anyone sees a grenade, grab it and toss it as fast as ye can!"
He tied a string to the knob of the door, and quickly rounded everyone and their artillery behind the makeshift bunker.
The footmen marched in first, placing their crate of grenades behind them, crouching, and firing with uniform position.
Patrick tapped Emma's shoulder and motioned towards the box. Emma nodded and propped the aquardly long weapon against a nearby chair. She queezed the trigger, and loud crack filled the air, followed promplty by an even louder boom.
The footmen of the front lines were eradicated, along with their crate of grenades.

"OPEN FIRE!" Cried the captain, as he turned the crank of his gun.
Fabrice unleashed three of the whirling blades and took cover.
Bright blue light flashed from the tip of Patrick's weapon, hitting the chest of a nearby expendable footman and sending him into convulsive fits before being reduced to a charred skeleton.

[Stella Gaslight]

The thing about learning from books,  Emma decided was that words did no justice to the force and noise of firing a gun for the first time. It knocked the air from her lungs and almost threw her off her feet.  Emma's ears rung with the sounds of the explosion and her heart hammering in her chest.  She was glad she couldn't see too far in to the gloom and witness the destruction she caused. 

There were shouts now in both English and Persian. Emma was almost too shaken to understand them at first but George helped. When she finally figured it out she started screaming for cease fire.  "Patrick we have to stop this.  They think we are Russian invaders.  Someone has set us up." 

They ceased firing and soon an uneasy quiet fell over the docks.  Their was a small and uncertain flutter of white among the dust and wreckage.  A tall dirty man in a tweed jacket with a torn sleeve peered out from behind the crates and held his hands out to show he was unarmed. There was humor in his expression despite being shot at.  "I think you must have met the same two gentleman who attacked us."  He was some how smiling even with the danger he was in.  George was on him in a heart beat and all tho he was armed with a strange sword it didn't seam like he wanted to attack them. 

Slowly he took a step forward and some of the others started to come out of hiding. "I think they didn't want my message delivered. May I speak to the captain of APF Bohème?" Ben stepped out of the door weary and ready to jump back in to cover of the need arose.  Patrick and Lakshmi fallowed weapons trained on the the nearest men.  The two men met on the gang way.  "I am Capitan Ben Hudson I take it you are Mr. Dyke." They were suspicious but at least they were no longer firing at each other.   

[Mercury Wells]

Meanwhile in a large house in the English country-side...

A cabal of rich & powerful men from around the world are meeting, when the doors of the room are pushed open with force. In storms a medium sized aristocratic looking gentleman, ranting in Russian <"The idiots, what were they thinking of?, that wasn't the plan. Now we are back to square one and I can tell you that I am not happy about this Gentlemen!."> as he strided to the table, where he grabs a a bottle of spirits and starts to fill a glass.

From the shadows, am old and faintly mechanical voice speaks in a subtle mocking tone, <Calm down, Your Excellency">, the tone becomes stern <"Plans are on schedual as planned. Contact has been made with the human male creature, called Salah. At first he resisted, as your species always do for some reason"> the tone had turned cruel and joyful, <"and now he is very amianable".> Gregor turned ashen as he sat heavily into a chair, spilling some of his drink.

The rest of the cabal visibly shuddered and in their minds, relived the experience of the process involved.

<"But remember this in future, Your Excellency, Gregor Petrovich Romanov. You may the public head of this organisation, but your head can easily be removed just like Alfredo Garica, a human creature such as yourself, who once decided to disobayed orders, it was a lesson to those who were there>." Gregor nods, then drains the glass in one go, grimicing as the burning sensation of drink flows down his throat.

The voice continues, <"Now the plan is, Salah's ships will escort The Boheme to what you call the area Indo-Kush, there with Russian ships, you will attack The Boheme, but all the human Females are not be harmed, as they will be useful in the long term">.

[bluestocking]

The tattered-looking man smiled ruefully. "Indeed I am, and I fear you find me in quite a fix! My companion and I were quite unceremoniously ditched here, and then set upon by a pair of ruffians... who, I assume, are the cause of all.. this." His expansive gesture took in the armed squadron and general chaos on the dock.

Ben put up his gun warily. "So you besiege my ship with a heavily-armed force. You must admit, sir, it does not make the best first impression."

"My humblest apologies... Egad! The redhead! It's her! You let her have a weapon?"

The crew of the Boheme blinked, particularly Emma, who had edged out from behind a crate, raygun still in her uncertain hands.

"I... whyever not?" Ben was puzzled by the man's disquietude.

"She's... well.. she's..." The man gesticulated wildly for a second, before focusing on Emma. "You! How dare you! Calling yourself 'Countess,' putting on airs, getting them to trust you! You most likely planned to do them all in, then take over this ship for your own foul ends!"

Emma stood transfixed by this blustering attack, confused at the man's vehemence.

A deep, mellow laugh rolled across the dock, cutting Dyke's tirade short. A tall, lanky man of Oriental descent unfolded himself from behind a bollard. "I fear you are mistaken, my friend. She is not the one they call Red Kali. Look at her! That one is taller, and more..." he sketched the rough shape of a woman's form in the air with his hands, obviously searching for a term that would be inoffensive to the ladies present, "ah, curvaceous."

"Ah. Oh?" Dyke peered closely at Emma. "Quite! My pardon, m'dear. Lost my monocle when we were assaulted." He turned to Ben. "Then where is she? You know, the woman who styles herself Countess von Lowestein."

Emma piped up, uncertain as to whether she should be offended by the 'curvaceous' comment. "She's not here anymore. She left this morning." I'll not tell them how, either, she thought. Let them wonder!

"Oh! Well, then. Might you know where she went?" His face fell as the entire crew shook their heads. "Well, then. Kabuki, I fear we've bothered these good people long enough. To the British consulate! Perhaps they will be able to aid us."

They departed, the squadron of footmen in tow. Lakshmi shook her head as they left. "What strange men!"

Emma gave voice to the entire crew's thoughts. "What did they want with Lilli, anyway? Why did they say all those nasty things about her?"

"Red Kali." Lakshmi muttered. "I wonder."

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick pondered upon hearing the title 'Red Kali' his face was contorted with thought as he scratched his head.
"Red Kali, darned if I haven't heard that somewhere before...."
"Dont hurt yourself." Said George, rolling his eyes. Emma quickly corrected the intangible insultor.
"What about them?" Asked Emma with an encouraging tone. "As far as I can recall, she was a major piece o' eye candy, and alot of rescources, weaponry, and underhanded double-crossing tricks!"

[Stella Gaslight]

Emma shook her head today was at the top of the list as far as odd events were concerned.  She was fairly sure that the image of the men melting was etched in to her mind.   She had been in Russian territory with Capitan Black once or twice and it had seemed poor, cold, dirty and ages behind London's technology. How had such people spawned those monstrosities of science?

And then the cheek of that Mr. Kabuki 'curvaceous' comment after she had stopped them from getting shot to bits.  As least they had gone peacefully but they had opened a whole barrel full of questions about Lilli.  Thank goodness Lilli had left when she did.  Emma was sure that if she had stayed aboard the armed men would not have given up so easily. Emma had seen her fight and hadn't thought much of it and she refused to think Lilli would have harmed the crew.  What Patrick described sounded more like a character from a penny dreadful than a real person.   

"I am sure that can't be the Countess von Lowestein.  It sounds like a bunch of bunk to me.   I suppose I shouldn't have hoped for rationality from people who send messages by pigeon."  Emma yawned tired, sore and sure a bruise was forming where the rifle had kicked her.   "I hope that Lilli is safe where ever she went.  I think leaving soon would be a good idea. I doubt our gunfight has endeared us to the port authority."

[Vienna Fahrmann]

     Lilli groaned quietly as the absolute darkness of the crypt began to lighten.  They were so far inside the mountain that there was no natural light.  The glow became more like a fog, then settled into the figure of a man wearing the armour of the 12th century under a white tabard emblazoned with a red lion.

[Vienna Fahrmann]

     "Hello Siegfried", Lilli said in a resigned voice.  When her crusader ancestor, Sir Siegfried von Lowenstein, founder of the knightly Order of the Lion, turned up like this; it meant he was determined to have a formal meeting of the entire Order.  Lilli, as his last direct descendant, was the current Head of the Order.  Sir Siegfried was mightily offended by this, but he had only specified that the leader of the Order had to be his direct descendant.  It had never occurred to him that there would be a time without an abundance of sons to fulfill the role. 

     

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick nodded in agreement to Emma's statement of port authorities. "Alright then, if everyone could gimme those weapons, they still need a bit o' fine tunin' an' if the Red Kali has anythin' Ta do with this, I'll need ta make all tha modifications I can..." He said sternly as he took his hand-made armaments from their wielders, taking Emma's last.
"Sorry about that..backfire there, Will ya be alright?"
Emma nodded, "Just a bruise, I'll be fine..."
"Good." Replied Patrick in a tone befitting someone just hearing that they wont be dying of some terrible illness that would involve the loss of major organs through painful excretion.
He did his best to shake off the tone of voice betraying his concern, but to little avail.
"Wouldn't want a crippled engineer, I need someone ta help me make this bird fly better..."

[Stella Gaslight]

Emma rotated her arm to show their was no lasting harm done. "I may turn funny colors but I will be ready to go after a good nights sleep. If any thing that was an interesting experiment in the explosive force of gunpowder.  I think I best stick with frying pans until I can manage to to do more damage to my target than myself."  She laughed and winced a little a bit more sore than she had expected to be.

"Frying pans?" Patrick asked

"Yes it is a good story. If I had a squishy chair to sit on and a mug of tea I might be persuaded to share it and a few other ones with you." She started back up the gangplank to the the ship and turned around mid way.  "By the way are you any good at chemistry beyond the normal coolant ratios and such?  I have some thing tricky I want to cook up in the morning and could use the help." 

"Are you sure you want the monkey messing with the bee boosters?  He is likely to blow himself up rather than be a help." George asked obviously annoyed at being left out of the conversation.

"Yes I am sure and I told you I wasn't calling it that." Emma shook her head George could be so silly sometimes.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick heard the etheral man's insult. "OI! Stop calling me a monkey!"
"Right," Said George, "Let me reiterate, your moreso like a trained orange gibbon!"
Patrick surpressed the urge to curse violently, and muscled his best past it to reply to Emma's proposition.
"Actually, I'm quite proficient with chemichals, especially copper, magnesium, sulfur, and anythign esle what goes boom!"
"How unexpected, Monkey like make things go boom." Said george with a rolling of his eyes.
"Shut up!" Retorted Patrick.

[Stella Gaslight]

As soon as everyone was safely in side the Boheme launched and not a moment too soon judging by the man that George said was from the port authority they had left shaking his fists in anger as they rose out of his reach.  Apparently after the gunfight they had changed their minds on not charging fees. 

As Fabrice guided them in to the night sky they towed The Æthercutter behind them like an odd kite.  Even with the limited time Patrick had to work it was already showing improvement.  It no longer shuttered badly and even tho it might still be some time before it was able to move under it's own power it was in no danger of falling from the sky. 

The night was quiet and calm as they entered the mountains.  Emma brewed a kettle of tea, took a mug to Fabrice, then pored one for herself and settled in to the lounge with the others. No one spoke much of it but it was easy to tell it was on their minds by the way they kept glancing at the chairs that had once held the melted men. The empty ropes were left draped across them, proof of an encounter stranger than fiction. 

Emma was telling the story of the time a gunner named Wintion put a tray of thickening aether reactive gel from Emma's lab in the sun thinking it was marmalade.  George joined in adding better descriptions and sarcastic remarks as they went along.  "He was just lucky it happened in my lab were it was as far removed from the gas bags and had reinforced walls. I thought Capitan Black was going to tear a strip out of his hide for sure."

Patrick furrowed his brow realizing what ship she must have been speaking of. "You were on The Eastern Star?"

Emma blinked surprised Patrick could figure it out from her rather vague descriptions. "Well yes under rather false persistences but I was there.  Why do you ask?"

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick took a deep, long sip from the cup before him before setting it down and explaining.
"The Eastern Star was one of my first off-land jobs"  Was all he said, he failed to mention that the job was for a pirate flyer, And he was in charge of sabotages.
He was sent aboard as a cabin boy, and he would do what he could to wreck the airships...Stripping gears, getting the gunpowder wet, coating Aether motors in oil to slow and even stop conductivity...it was the only job he could get at the time. He was the reason the guns failed when the Red Betty charged, and why they were able to broadside the ship with maximum damage. He stripped away the armor plating. It was not a job he took pride in, and he hated having to destroy a perfectly good ship like that, but it was money, and he did what he could to make sure The Captain of The Red Betty got his loot and left everyone else alone, He even had built life-ships, designed to carry small loads of crewmembers to the nearest port, knowing it would save the lives of many.

[Vienna Fahrmann]

     The crypt got lighter and brighter as other ghosts phased into existence.  All wore the white and red tabard.  Lilli thought that Grandfather Jakob looked particularly silly in it, as though he were wearing a large kitchen apron over his tuxedo. 
     "All Right" Lilli said to the assembled ghosts.  Lets go to the assembly hall.  The other s can join us there".  While still inside the crypts, the large assembly hall was at least two levels closer to the surface.  Lilli dropped back to walk beside her grandfather "Uhm, is Mad Harald still obsessed by guillotines?"  They wouldn't hurt the ghosts, but she didn't want to encounter one.  Her genius, but lunatic ancestor, was responsible for a lot of the things that gave the Lowenstein lands a bad reputation.

      Vienna

[Stella Gaslight]

"Was he a good man then I wonder?" Emma was looking past Patrick back in to her own memories.  Capitan Black had been very kind giving her space to grow,  teaching her almost everything she knew about flying, making sure she was well supplied and happy.  But in the same moments he was nurturing her talents he was also stealing the fruits of her labor and using them in criminal ways that made her feel ill to think about.

The hard thing to understand was that nether was mutually exclusive.  His kindness and ruthlessness were both parts of the same whole, A whole that had won her heart for a while. Emma wondered if her affections had led her to rationalizing away things that should have been warning signs.  "Did you know about Capitan Black's criminal work?  Sometimes I think I must have been blind to miss it."  Emma sighed her hindsight was bitter and clear.  "He kidnapped me so gently I didn't even notice and then he stole my inventions and sold them on the black market while giving me a lab I would have never had the funds to have on my own.  I left when I found out what he was doing and he hasn't taken that well but for a while there it was the best job I ever had.  Have you ever feel that way about a job?"   

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick shook his head rather somberly, remembering the beatings, burnings, lashings, and the tyings to ropes and use as Air Kraken bait. Then, he remembered the dead captain, and the blood coated blade, then the searing of the Red Betty blowing in half, then he quickly snapped his train of thought back on track.
"No, I cant say I have, I envy that. My career as a engineer has been....Rocky. It must have been wonderful, being appreciated for your gift..." His teacup clicked against his saucer rather loudly as his hands shook and tea stained the cups of his sleeves.

[Stella Gaslight]

Emma took the cup from his hands and gave Patrick her handkerchief to help dry his cuffs. "Well your appreciated now. I wouldn't have gotten half the work done today if wasn't for you.  And the way you acted ageist those creatures." She shivered and something told her any dreams she had tonight would not be peaceful.  "Well other than braking the door down I must admit I didn't have any sort of plan.  I have been relying on George to keep me safe for too long.  I need to start standing on my own two feet and with us entering pirate filled skies that includes working with weapons.  Before today I had only read about firing a gun in books.  Will you teach me how to do it without nearly knocking myself over with each shot?" She smiled as George sputtered annoyed that she would ask the monkey something that would bring them in to close physical contact with each other.  "Don't say a word George." Emma warned. 

"But the monkey would have to put his grubby mits on you." He was angry and she could hear him pacing about.

"I am a grown woman I can look out for myself.  I am not going to let myself be useless in a fight just because you don't approve of my choice of teacher."  Emma glared at the box and wondered if there was any feasible way to slap someone through the aether.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick Wiped the tea off his sleeves, listening rather intently at her proposal.
Upon hearing the jist of the statement, a bit of a smile crept across his face.
"It's be my pleasure! I'll even show ya how ta make yerself a raygun out of household appliances!" He said with a sudden burst of life and excitement in his voice, he bounced in his seat.
"I'll make ya tha finest marksmen in the western skies! Well...next to meself..." He said proudly.