"STEAM LONDON" Game Thread

[Nigel Wetherby]

"That there are." Cain said, walking into the sweets shop. His first sight inside the wonderous confectionarium was the harlequin array of sweets that flashed in colors he never knew existed. Lollipops danced like crystalline angels upon dainty wooden sticks. Chocolates of all sorts were laid out on the candy counter like little soldiers coated in black, decadent armor, standing in a deliciously rich phalanx. Ropes of sweet red licorice reached out to the flourescent lighting of the candy-shop's roof like cherry-flavored flowers stretching to be drenched in sunlight which seemed to make them all the more sweeter.
A portly, red-faced man awaited them behind the counter. Asalt-and pepper moustache was the only hair on the man;s face. His entire head resembled an over-ripe cherry tomato.
"Guten morgen!" He said in a voice as sweet as his wares, the brightness in his eyes devoid of any memory that earlier that day, he was attempting to sink his fangs into soft human flesh.

[Arabella Granger]

Ella glared daggers at Jimmy as she shot out of the window of the Boheme at the advancing Cold Ones. He gave another little chuckle. "Can't do it, can you? Pity. After all I've done for you...one would think you would want to repay that debt, wouldn't you?" He smirked, malice in his eyes. "Or don't you remember all those time we saved your skin?" He changed his voice, making it a high falsetto. "'Oh, I'm so cold! It's freezin'...Oh, I'm gonna die out here! It's so cold, I can't stay awake! Oh, Jimmy, help me, please...' We should have just let you freeze. I don't deny I wanted to at times."

Ella felt Elisha stiffen beside her. "Shut up," she said softly.

"I thought I was the one you loved, Little Ella." Jimmy pretended to pout, but the effect was rather lost with his swollen lip. "Has the monster here tricked you into thinking you love him? He doesn't love you, you know. He can't offer you what I can, what the Czar can. We could live forever...he doesn't love you."

"You don't know that! He does! You don't know what love really is!"

"Ella!" Elisha said, meeting her eyes. "Don't listen to him!"

Jimmy's eyes flickered back and forth, looking for anything that would help him get away. Absently he fingered inside his pocket. Aha. A small dagger was all he had left...but it was all he needed.

Acting quickly, he grabbed Ella and forced her in front of him, pressing the wicked blade against her throat. "I gave you a choice, Little Ella," he hissed. "You had your opportunity. Now I'm making your decision for you. Kill your 'lover' there, and I'll spare your life. I'll even plead your case before the Czar, if you like. He'll forgive you once he knows you've seen reason. Refuse me, though..." he pressed the dagger a bit deeper into her neck, drawing a small bead of blood. "Use your imagination."

"And you.." he said, looking at Elisha. "Don't try anything, or she dies anyway."

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Elisha had automatically whipped out his rifle. He slowly lowered it. Risking hitting Ella was not an option.

'Let her go.' he said. "Let's settle this alone. Or are you too afraid?"

"Heh...not falling for that, tin-soldier."

"I see...." he said. Jimmy reached to the ground where Ella had dropped her pistol. Still holding her tight, he guided it to her hand, one hand tightly gripping hers, the other with the knife at her neck. She wasn't sure what Jimmy had done since he last met her....but he was much stronger. She couldn't escape his grasp.

"Ella." said Jimmy. "Shoot him. Shoot him, or die. There's no other option. The others are distracted and won't come."

Elisha stared at them through the helmet. There was only one option...

He held out his arms. "Ella. You have to shoot me. It's the only way you'll get out of this alive."

"No..." she said softly. "I'd rather die..."

"And I would die before you did. It's alright. Pull the trigger."

His hand slipped under his coat, feeling the armour he was wearing. Would it stand up to the pistol at this range? But even if it saved him...then Ella died. He would have to see how it went.

"Shoot."

[ShredsnPatches]

Jen had never drunk beer in glasses this large before. The stein was so heavy she had to lift it with both hands, but the freshly brewed contents made the exertion worth it. Patrick grinned as she struggled with the huge drink, knocking his back with studied ease.

[Arabella Granger]

"No..." she whispered. She couldn't face this again, not so soon after what had happened with the Seventh Commodore. Once again she was faced with this choice...her life or Elisha's. "I can't."

Elisha shook his head. "You have to. It's the only way. I'm sorry..."

Jimmy chuckled, tightening his grip on the dagger. "See, Little Ella? He doesn't love you. He's not even trying to save you."

"Shut up, you bastard!"

"Do it now, Ella. You try my patience."

"Ella, please! It's not worth it. Just shoot me and he'll let you go. Please,"

"No!"

"Shoot!"

Ella felt another stupid tear slide down her cheek again. Jimmy noticed as well, and brushed it away softly, smirking. "There there. Take your time, darling. It'll be alright. I'll get you out of here and we'll live happily ever after. Isn't that what you want?"

"NO!" Ella shouted, feeling the knife nick her throat again.

"Just shoot, Ella!"

Ella looked at Elisha for a long time before nodding. "Alright," she said, her hand shaking.

She almost dropped the pistol. "I can't," she sobbed. "I can't. I'm sorry."

[MWBailey]

"Thanks, George!" Dreyfuss said. Thought I was bein' pretty clever there, but it seems I underestimated those beggars."  He twisted around  behind him, and blew the head off of a Wyrm that had come too close for comfort. He grinned "Lordy, Emma makes a great gun." HE looked around, ssieeing there were no more targets iun his imediate vicinity, and turned back to george, who was firing at something on the other side of teh ship, for all the world as if he were right-side up and shooting ove rthe top of a small knoll.

Dreyfuss twisted around, saw the creatuires on teh hull advancing as if also on right-side-up bround, and covered and aided George until they had all been blasted to ooze or knocked off of the hull.

"George, I'm climbing back up, "dreyfuss said, "I cant walk all the way ove rthere with this rope, and I don''t think i can fly, although" he chuckled "I honestly havent tried yet. something tells me I'd better not tempt fate much more for a bit. well, I'm off," and he began to walk/escalade back up the hull, to the window, until he was where he could just see in ---and his heart lurched and froze. The damned kid was free again, and had Ella at knifepoint, apparently trying to force her to shoot Elisha. he silently made a "shush" sign with his finger ove rhis lips, the carbinehanging by its sling, to Elisha, who was facing the window; the kid and Ella had their backs to him. He silently pulled his arkansas tooyhpick, flipped it so that he held the blade, and threw the knife into the back of teh kid's neck!

Ella fell away, out of sight, as Elisha grabbed and raised his rifle -- buit he never got the chance; Suddenly, Scraps bounded into view, his cybernetic BARK! shattering the crystal slowness of the scene, and attacked Jimmy, who suddenly had a couple hundred pounds of metal dog to contend with, and had quite forgotten about Ella--to his own detriment.

Ella's gun banged, twice, out of sight of Dreyf's position, and planted two shots in Jimmy's chest. Jimmy went down, and Dreyfuss hooked one leg over the windowsill just as the rope came loose from the cane, which reacted to the suddenly-relaesed tension by flipping up sideways and then falling down, down, down, into the snow below. "Dammit!" I've had that cane for seven years!" he said, as he flopped in and onto the floor beside the window, and rolled over, finding himself staring directly into Jimmy's now-vacant eyes. the feral boy was dead. Scraps looked on, and whimpered slightly. "Good boy., scraps!" they all said at nearly the same time.

[Nigel Wetherby]

  Patrick kissed Jen's cheeks, still flecked with beer froth, which he ever-so-casually licked off, obviously partially intoxicated. "This'll be me wife!" He cheered, raising an emptied stein into the air. The patrons clanked their mugs together and sang slurred melodies of alchohol-soaked mirth the likes of which would have made bacchus blush. Heady, golden nectar flowed like water and was drank with thrice the enthusiasm. The air was thick with the scent of alchohol and the songs of the drunk. Patrick remained entirely sober, however. No matter how much he drank, he could still see straight, talk clearly, and even name every part in a zepyr model airship.
"I guess me transformation keeps me immune ta even tha poisons of alchohol..." He said rather weakly, like a child who had learned of the non-existance of the soul-cake tuesday duck.
Jen however, was less than unnafected.
"Ye okay there Jen?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, the pale girl leaned on him, exuding a terribly loud burp and covering her mouth, blushing as a proper lady should. She did her best to surpress her laughter, which came out as a stifled "PFFFFFFFFFFt...Hhh.hHhhh!" She prosceeded to burst into a storm of giggles, her cheeks bright pinl.

[Arabella Granger]

I killed him...

Ella swayed on her feet, and Elisha rushed forward, dropping his rifle. Ella collapsed against him, weak from exhaustion and emotion. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss looked away, not wishing to relive a similar scene from the Runaway Scrape, one that had ended much differently. The two lovebirds just didn't know how lucky they were.  He looked toward them then, and saw their love shining like a light between them, and thought, No, actually, I think they do...

[MWBailey]

"Ahem." Dreyfuss cleared his throat.

"I really am sorry, you two. I'd give you both the whole world and all eternity to hold one another if I could, but the Enemy's regrouped, and they're coming this way. I guess the snot called for a rescue."

He readied the carbine in one hand, the boat gun in the other, and turned to the window to meet the onslaught, firing the carbine and sloshing quite a few cold ones to goop with it, but on they still came, and he then gave them the boat gun's wrath at about ten paces; the entire front line was smashed to oozing, falling masses of tentacles and weirdly-clawed limbs. He drew the Paterson, and started firing alternate shots with the carbine.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Elisha was not sure of what to say. Jimmy had attacked them - as was always the risk with aggressors, he had fallen instead.

"Ella..." he said. "I'm sorry...this was entirely my fault. I should have...I could have stopped him before. It shouldn't have come to that." He felt his stomach twist. This was guilt, but a private guilt he had never known. Damn...

Suddenly he heard a low buzzing. He looked, saw a streak and a hail of black objects, that paused in mid fall and flew towards them. The Blackfiles extended their small hooked claws, bearing down like a locust swarm. Elisha covered Ella with his body - the Blackflies mostly clawed at him in vain, snapping against his armour, helmet or metal leg. But on his upper arms and other leg he felt a sharp stinging as they stuck. Still, he was much better protected that Ella.

He slung his rifle and picked up Ella. He ran on poor instinct, rushing inside and slamming the hatch. There was an angry thudding outside. Elisha sighed with relief. He then realized he was still holding Ella in his arms. He gently put her down in as gentlemanly a fashion he could manage.

He looked up, listening to the forces trying to break in. They needed to make a move, fast. This time, the Cold Ones might beat them by simply grinding them down...

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss watched as teh blackflies came in and attacked Elisha and Ella, completely ignoring him. He risked a look , and saw the Commodore coming closer. He reloaded the boat gun, just in case. He then heard a loud clunking sound, and realized the hatch had closed. DAMMIT! the poor kids are completely wrapped up in themselves, he thought, and forgot I was out here too. Well, 'Falling Man,' He derided himself, looks like you'd better get a few shots off," he blasted away with the coilgun as the blackflies turned on him, and cut loose with the boat gun, which completely cleared the deck,  and then barely ducked in time as the clown threw his rippled dagger at him.

He pulled the dagger out of teh wall, stuck it in his belt, slung the blunderbuss, secured the coilgun, and vaulted out the window behind him, already sliding down the hull of the ship before he realized what he was actually doing. "Hnnhh!" Scccrrrreeeaaaakkkk! no purchase  was achieved on the hull, and he fell out into space, and thought, well, this is the time to try to fly, dumbnut. He concentrated on the fire, called it to him, channeled it into himself, and concentrated on soaring out over the snow, flying free as a bird.

It's working! he thought, I can feel it! It's w--!!!

   OOOFFFF!!!!   

Dammit... you idiot. he rolled over, and looked up, realizing that he had only fallen about 100 feet, landing on...oh, not AGAIN...He got up, and again pulled a pistol, shot the brute, and set about trying to figure out how to get back up to the ship. Again.

Damn. You'd think I'd learn, he thought...

HE had just found and retrieved both the rope and the cane, and was securing them about his person, when he heard flapping and heard it stop directly behind him. He turned around, and faced the Clown commodore for the second time on this mission. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the 'pugilist," Pezmyesn (sp?) said, sarcasm practically dripping from the word and pooling at his feet.

"Back for a rematch, Scaramouche?  I'd a-thought your jaw'd remind you not to mess with me again."  The clown whipped out his cutlass, saluting Dreyfuss with it, and suddenly lunging forward, easily sidestepped. He must be faking it, Dreyfuss thought, Nobody is that uncoordinated. Still, he drew the saber, saluting the clown with a spanish slash at the end, which continued up, around, and whipped past his face. well, not quite past it... oddly colored blood oozed from a slash across his left cheek, over his nose, and disfiguring the eyelid of the right eye. TEh clown felt his face, ROAR-ed and ran forward, cutlass held high. Dreyfuss simply stepped to one side, and drove his fist, now holding the basket hilted saber with its heavy guard, soundly into the side of the point of teh clown's chin. Again.

And once again, the clown went down like a hammered steer at the slaughterhouse.

"Honestly, Nimrod, I'd think you'd learn. Guess not," Dreyfuss said, and walked away, following the slowly-drifting Boheme, and letting the rope fall off of his body, helf loosely in one hand. He tied a quick bowline on one end, and a lasso loop on the other, and swinging it around, and around, and around again, letting thenoose fly and snagging a rigging stanchion located right next to the hold doors. He put tyhe bowline under his armpits,  looped the slack around himself and tied it off, and then began to climb, the ship obviously having gotten under way, as it began to move faster and faster. He noticed that the Cold ones remaining had managed to retain a semblance of order, and were pursuing them. Dreyfuss grasped the grip loop, still tied,and readied the coilgun again. He blasted away at every Cold One he could see. They fell back for a time,and he climbed up a bit farther.

My God, he thought, Its even colder here in the wind. his fingers were going numb. A  few cold ones came back around the stern and flew rapidly toward him, and he managed to shoot all of those, even though it was like trying to shoot while wearing pugilist's tapes. Then, somehow, someone having remembered that one of their own was still outside, he began to rise into the now-open Hold Doors...

[E.A. Claringbold]

She continued to fire off shells until she saw a black swarm on the monitor. Well that was odd and all in all bad news, but she was not about to shoot at them while they were so close to the other ship. The wounded, but more or less still alive monsters took note of where the shrapnel releasing artillery was coming from and headed towards her tank. In a few moments she could hear thuds of the creatures attempting to break in.  Despite having a nervous thought or two, she felt confident that the armour of the tank would hold them off. On the other hand, she was no better than a sardine in a can. Other than the shells and armour, the tank itself had no other defense and offence.  If she wanted them off, she was going to have to go out there herself.

Looking back to the monitor, focusing on the Boheme, she wondered how they were faring  until she saw a figure fall from the ship. That was most certainly bad news and she could not do anything about it. If she drove the tank underneath him, landing on the iron beast was no better than landing on the ground, but she drove ahead anyway, running over the horrid beasts that were stupid or unfortunate enough to be close to the treads. She might not catch him with the tank itself, but she might as well drag his body into the safety of the metal home. Once she spotted Dreyfuss moving,  Irene shut down the monitor and stood, pulling the short sword from its sheath as she headed to the hatch. Looking at the snake, Rosie, she simply said, “I’m heading out,” and opened the latch, closing it behind her.

 As soon as she was out, a tentacle whipped out and threw her on her back. Slightly dazed, she managed to keep her wits about her enough to slice the offender.  She took the time the monster writhed in pain to stand up and run it through. Pulling out the blade, she noted that there was another man and he was down and Dreyfuss was up. That was that. Observing that her previous opponent was not dead yet, she snarled, the burnt side of her face appearing more terrifying, and booted it harshly over and over until a claw clapped down on her ankle and yanked. She responded by swinging the shortsword with an aim to slash, the other hand  pulling out a pistol to shoot any opposition. Looking, she saw that those that had attacked her tank were now joining a bigger group and were focusing their attention towards the Boheme rather than the small fry ally.   

[Stella Gaslight]

"Hi I don't know of you talk like me but your store is pretty." Angel said to the nice man behind the counter. He didn't have a clue what she said bit he smiled just the same, it was very hard not to when Angel unleashed one of her grins. Angel clasp her hands together almost like a prayer and got down to the serous business of teaching One about sweets.  "These are sweets." She said gesturing at the store. "Sweets are very good. They can make you happy when you are sad,almost like Cain but he is much better of course."  She pointed to the bright colorful sugar shapes.  "Those are lollipops they come in all sorts of colors and shapes. They make kisses taste extra good."  Angel stopped in the middle of the aisle and let out a gasp.  Before her had to be the prettiest piece of candy she had ever seen.  It was a pink and red rose made of shiny sugar petals nearly as big as her head that put off the most wonderful smell.  "I want that!" she said in awe of it.

George was amazingly good at firing both upside down and side ways, it was as if gravity simply did not exist for him.  He saw a creature moving up behind Irene and calmly fried it with a microwave blast.  "If you can make it over here I can give you something better than your pistol for fighting these things."  He shouted from above.  Emma had given him a prototype heat hand cannon. He knew the batteries weren't going to last forever but at least she would have a better chance to fight.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Cain gazed in wonder at the sugary confection that stood in the center of the store. The sun hit its glistening pink petals and bathed the entire building in rosy light. Angel looked towards the jovial German man and pointed to the rose pleadingly. He said something that Cain understood as a price. He rooted through his pouch, gathering what he hoped was enough shining copper disks. However, he was terrible at math, so he dumped the whole contents of the bag onto the desk, hoping he would take what he needed and adhere to the honor system. The man chortled and handed him his money. He said some more words he didn't understand before finally Taking the hint and speaking in a very straineg english accent that seemed to be carrying a heavy load.
"You vant ein shveet blaumen, ja?" He asked.
"Er, yes." Cain said rather shakily.
"Many have sought to buy ein shveet blaumen, but many have failed. I made ze shveet in order to find a couple who truely loved eachother. But ze many patrons have alvays put prices on zeir love. You vere villing to shpend every dime for you sveethaht. Ze blaumen is yours." The sweetmaker proclaimed as if he were merlin, announcing the glorious removal of the sword from the stone.

Jen, however, wasn't as graceful in her indulgence and joy as Angel.
"I am Das Shlitzkaiser!" She declared as she wore an empty stein on her head.
"und this," Here she slapped Patrick's chest. "IS mein trusted first lady!" Her german was oddly very clear when she was drunk. After placing the 6th stein of beer down onto her segment of the table, she promptly flopped over, leaning onto Patrick's shoulder. Patrick felt sslightly buzzed after his twelfth stein, but decided it would be time to leave.

[Stella Gaslight]

Angel took the rose like it was a holy relic and gave it an experimental lick.  A petal with a texture surprisingly like a real rose came off in her mouth.  She sucked it and the taste was amazing like fruit fresh in the summer sunshine.  "Hold this for me, please.  You can have some if you want to." With the rose safely in One's hands Angel tackled Cain showering him in kisses and I love yous. The jolly man behind the counter laughed.  Angel broke off long enough to say "My Cain is the best." before pouncing on him again.

[MWBailey]

Abe and Rowland slowly pulled Dreyfuss back up into the hold, straining, even with the aid of the hold's pole-crane, with the effort of both lifting the surprisingly-heavy elder man, plus fight the increasing stiff wind resistance as the the Boheme speeded up. "I never *puff* thought the fellow *puff* would be this *puff* heavy, wot? *puff*?
"he's not, Abe said, he just *heave* has a lot of stuff on *heave* him." Abe said, as he helped to pull Dreyfuss up, and then swung him over to deposit him next to the inner hull-wall. Dreyfuss mumbled something that couldn't be understood, "Mwarmesmp myreemmn?"

Roland scratched his head. "What was that? I didn't catch it...
Dreyfuss put his sleeve up to his mouth and exhaled several times, then enunciated somewhat more clearly, "Owheah iz Ahreen?"
"Oh!" He's asking "where is Irene!" Emma exclaimed, amused. "Your lips must be terribly numb, Dreyfuss, hee heehee...
"Whabs stho funby, Biss Ebba? Missh Emba...Dabbit! aowah gahd..."

"It's alright, Dreyfuss, she did well, and survived," George said, Floating up behind them. And she's following along at a surprisingly good clip. It's almost as if she's trying to achieve airspeed."
------------------
"A flying tank?" a much-warmer Dreyfuss said a few minutes later, "That'd be a real marvel, if it were true..."

--------------------------
Rosie had been watching as Irene drove the tank, and fired the weapons. and now it looked to Rosie like she might be in trouble outside, as the fierce young woman was knocked on her back.
"...help her..." the memory of Abraham's voice said. by the Mother, she would help -- but Abraham had also told her to stay in the tank. Him not say no drive tank, Rosie thought, and decided she would try it. Surely, if a human could do it, she could too... Rosie then punched what she thought was the funny little start button. oops....

The weapons display came up again. Rosie decided to try for that, and moved the contols using the coiling and locomotion muscles in her body, and her tailtip and nose as well, to move the funny white "t" shape on the monitor, until it was centered on the monster that Irene was fighting at the moment, and then Rosie  triumphantly pressed what she hoped was the appropriate button -- causing the tank to move forward slightly. "!!!!!" Rosie looked back up at the monitor again, saw Irene running back, and the Boheme Rising, Rising, and speeding up, the tiny shape of Dreyfuss dangling below it but slowly being hauled upwards. Dreyfuss hurt? She wondered. She hoped not; crazy he might be, but me like old hunter-man, she thought, and wished him well. she looked at the screen again, and Irene was almost there, but another, lone, Cold Thing, a large one, was coming up behind her. Rosie thought about firing, but she could not remember how Irene had done it. Rosie thought angrily Mother! why big gun not FIRE! and slapped a row of buttons irritatedly with her tail-tip--

BOOMMM!!

...and the tank rocked back a bit, whilst on the screen, the cold one exploded in a fireball, and Irene GLARED right at the tank, then turned around and looked behind her, seeing the remains of the cold one slithering down off of a bush. Rosie leaped off of the seat like an arrow, zipped over to the hatch, and hit the opening button, then climbed up and looked out at Irene, (who was already clambering up the crew-ladder to the hatch) and tried as hard as she could to to apologize -- but, of course, it all came out as just a plaintive "hiisssissiiissss..."

[Arabella Granger]

Alright. Enough of bein' the damsel in distress. Time to start pulling my own weight again. She took out her pistol once again and stood back-to-back with Elisha, ready for anything.

"Got any ideas?"

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss swore that he could still hear gunfire from somewhere. "Where's the battle? I hear gunfire!" HE stood up slowly, limping brokenly, and pulled out the amazingly-unbroken cane, deciding If I have to use the damn thing, I might as well use it in battle.

Well? he asked the hold at large.

"Old One, you have just" Abe held up one hand and started counting off things on his fingers,"walked sideways down the hull to shoot arbiters, and -- what did you call it, Lady Emma?  yes, a 'spayder digger,' been batted back and forth by arbiters that were already on the hull, stood nearly upside down while shooting other cold ones off the hull, climbed BACK up again, done whatever you did that caused several shots to be fired, fallen back down from the hull to the ground, pursued by a commodore...and I hope dispatched him before you roped yourself to the hull again, then shot yet more cold ones off of the hull, then beaten back several stragglers, getting nearly frozen through in the process... "

"just how many exploits do you plan to cram in before this battle is over?"

Did I really do all that? Dreyfuss thought. Well, no matter,I hear gunfire, and that means somebody is still in trouble. "Whatever I can, Abe. I promised myself and ...someone else... I'd take care of this crew, and I'm going to keep my word, even if I have to come back from the dead to do it."

"You're not dead, yet, Captain Dreyfuss," Rowland said, "yes, Abe told me the story. Don't blame him," he added hurriedly, seeing the glare forming on Dreyfuss' face "I can be pretty persuasive if I have to be."

"NO, I'm not dead yet; which means I have no excuse to rest," Dreyfuss said, managing somehow to trot and support his weight on one side with the cane, following the sound of gunfire.

[Nigel Wetherby]

"I vould agree!" The confectioner laughed, his booming chuckle echoing through the brightly lit room. The confectioner's white, square grin. Cain buckled beneath Angel's barrage of affection. The construct was pinned beneath a barrage of kisses that fell like rose petals upon his cheeks, lips, forehead, chin and nose.

[ShredsnPatches]

"Wherewe goin', Patrick?" Jen slurred as he wrapped a firm arm under her shoulder and half walked, half heaved her out of the bar. Patrick said nothing to her, only removed the stein from her hand and emptied it in one gulp. Jen whimpered in protest, then began singing a bawdy song that she could only have heard from dockers. It was about a sailor, a pretty young maid and a humourous misunderstanding involving a red petticoat, a garter and a pair of silk stockings.

[MWBailey]

Pausing at the first stairwell, Dreyfuss turned around and said, "One reason I am an 'Old One' is because I try to always seek the battle, rather than let it seek me -- and no, Abe, I regret to say that I did not dispatch the clown this time, either." dreyfuss pasued, loked as if he were tracking some sound too small for the rest of them to hear, and then spoke in a slightly softer voice, "I may yet have another chance at it, however," as he fancied he heard flapping wings from somewhere above.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Elisha paused, thinking. Outside the battle was raging. However, inside the ship he realized there may be troubled as well. He stopped and listened.

"Let's head to the engine room. They tend to aim for that first, trying to cripple us. Lets see if there's anything...inhuman in there..."

[E.A. Claringbold]

When one of the crew members offered her a new weapon to fight off the beasts, she shook her head no as she pointed to the tank and headed for safety. There was a blast behind her and she cringed, ducking. For a moment, she was ready to tear something to shreds, but as she realized that she was not injured she continued on her brisk way. There was only one living thing in that tank--the snake, Rosie, had saved her. Somehow it took control of the tank for a brief moment and possibly saved her life. Nodding, she closed the hatch behind her and looked at her unsure of whether to hug her or pet her or just leave it with words.

“I-uh…thanks,” she said as she gave it a confused pat as a hand would go to congratulate a shoulder.

Heading back to the control room, she saw that the monitor was up and active and it seemed as if the flight program had been launched. Looking back to Rosie, she gave a little smile, one half of her face involuntarily looking possibly frightening, and pointed.

“You- I think I like you…”

The tank sped along its way, heaving snow out of its path. It kept a constant pace as the armor paneled and shifted sprouting propellers and wings. Picking up its pace, there was a slight lift and then a bump. She knew she was going to have to accelerate just a little more if they were to lift off. And they did. It was certainly strange and almost amazingly impossible that such a heavy vessel would have the capability to fly.  Matching up with the Boheme, she stretched herself in her seat to look out through a small circular window.  Sitting herself back down in a normal position, she pulled out a letter from a leather pocket that was on the side of her seat. Irene knew that she ought to give it to Dreyfuss as her ‘uncle’ had told her to, but part of her felt as if he did not really need to know.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick carried the intoxicated Jen towards a less-than glamorous inn. The egg-colored walls and cat hair covering the carpet denoted it was a family owned buisness. The miniature old lady with snow-white hair and glasses that made her look like some species of owl added solidity to the theory. She showed the two more-than-human patrons to a cozy room with a single bed. Patrick had never bothered to change his shirt, butr the old lady never bothered to ask of his "Odd skin condition"