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Author Topic: The Free Port City of Salvage  (Read 26945 times)
fmra
Snr. Officer
****

Dollmaker


« Reply #50 on: March 20, 2007, 04:33:43 am »

Oliver lifted his hand to Lazaras, revealing the watch and the wallet.  Reclaiming his property, Lazaras released his weight from the man's chest.  He coughed and rolled into a sitting position.

"You are a tourist! You don't even know.  No one cares about us, the people above call us barnacles because we're forced to live down here, clinging to this hell.  And since the minings been halted, there's no way for us to buy food.  But you wouldn't know what it is to breathe track dust all day and suffer constant pelting from flying debris!"

Oliver stood and stared into the man's eye with a chilled glare.  "Go back up to your life of cigars with the gentry and closed member clubs, and don't tell me about self improvement."

He turned and walked away, leaving Lazaras standing alone in the narrow catwalk far above the earth and the massive rolling treads of Salvage.
« Last Edit: March 20, 2007, 03:22:20 pm by fmra » Logged

Tempus Rerum Imperator.

"But that's not steampunk hjghahkahjkfdsahjklfdsa!!!!!11one11" -- Anachronist

20,000 leagues below Chuck E' Cheese
Lazaras
Zeppelin Admiral
******
United States United States


Have Wierd; Will Travel.


WWW
« Reply #51 on: March 20, 2007, 04:41:14 am »

Lazaras checked his wallet and glowered. The money he'd left in the open was missing, but then that was only about a hundred or so pounds worth in bills. The rest he had tucked away in his boots. Uncomfortable, yes, but a wise precaution.. He glowered to the man's turned back before speaking up. "No worse than being buried in other people's horse manure, or having to dodge people throwing bricks at your head while you work." He looked at the watch, opening it to check that it was whole and in one piece. "You take one look at me and assume I'm from Their[ society! So long as i have my fill and my obligations are met I could care less about the bloody money boy." He started towards the man, pain coursing up his left leg as the fall had aggravated old injuries.
Logged

Cheapie Theatre
Want something to read? Got ten minutes to kill? Here you go!
fmra
Snr. Officer
****

Dollmaker


« Reply #52 on: March 20, 2007, 04:49:26 am »

A bell behind the secretary's desk chimed twice and she turned to Octavius.  "They are ready for you, Mr. Gransville, second door to the right."

A door he hadn't even seen slid open to reveal a long corridor lined with doors.  He nodded thanks to the clerk and walked down the hall to the appropriate door, which opened as he approached.  Inside the small room, a table was set with tea and at the table a woman and man sat looking at him.  The man spoke first.

"Ah, Mr. Gransville, yes?  Welcome to Salvage.  My name is Patterson, and this is Dr. Kharbana.  We received your transmission about a message for the doctor.  Please, sit, join us for some tea."

The gentleman was obviously a midlevel bureaucrat, from fake smile and rehearsed manners.  The doctor, on the other hand, held the presence of some one used to being in command of others and not at all impressed by his arrival.
Logged
MrFats
Snr. Officer
****
United States United States

Heretic Chronogadgeteer


« Reply #53 on: March 20, 2007, 05:53:04 am »

Indeed, Sir, I thank you kindly. I wish, however, to converse with Dr. Kharbana in private. My deceased Master wished this to be a final letter, and I would like a few moments if you please. (smiling, mechanically, a cold, calm smile).

Dr. Kharbana, you do not know me, for we have never met in person. Surely you know the man I speak of? He had done great work in England, is honored there? Here is the letter, safe and sound. I trust you'll read it, as Master had told me before departing this mortal coil, that you should have something for me upon finishing reading of the letter. (Octavius hands the letter to Dr. Kharbana, the letter reads)

My esteemed colleague and friend, where has the time gone? We once were sitting off in places far gone, discussing literature and other worthy topics. I wish I had seen you once more, but I had neither the time nor the energy before my passing. This letter is a fond and final farewell to someone I held dear to me, even in my darkest hour. The boy standing before you is my heir apparent. While he shall not partake in my legacy, I have taught him all I know, and wish only the best for him.
        A veritable storm has been brewing. All the world knows of the Councils, and this boy has taken to one of them. For this I can not stop him, but I do ask that you give him some small aide, a few books concerning the sciences...Do not fret, he reads like a mad man aflame, and shall have them back quite briefly. He has a great level of intelligence, is a master inventor and mechanic. I do appreciate anything you can do for him.
                                                                                                                     With regard,
                                                                                                                          S.H., detective


Octavius smiles as Dr. Kharbana reads the message, knowing that it marks the end of the legacy of a great man. He pauses and awaits  her response.
Logged

Fueled by coffee, powered by steam
Scientist, philosopher, photographer, writer
fmra
Snr. Officer
****

Dollmaker


« Reply #54 on: March 20, 2007, 10:48:27 pm »

A Constable dropped down from the hole in the deck behind Lazaras, followed by a second.  They walked up to him and the first spoke. 

"Sir, we 'eard your cries of thief and followed as best we could.  Is this 'ere 'im?"

"Oi, look Norvel, this man looks like he's been attacked", said the second officer pointed out Lazaras' injury.

Lazaras started to protest, but the first officer interrupted him.  "Don't you worry, Sir.  We'll take care of 'im and put 'im in his proper cage."  Overhearing the arrival of the constabulary, Oliver broke into a desperate run along the mazework of rope bridges and steel frames.  The officers drew out their clubs and gave chase to him, leaving Lazaras behind.

___

Neelam's brow furrowed reading the note from her late friends and stayed as such when she looked up at the young man before her.  She attempted to give him a friendly smile, but she doubted her success, so instead she returned to her normal serious demeanor.

"I think you should follow me to the labs, there is much you need to tell me, and many thing I need to give you.."

Folding the letter and placing it in her pocket, she stood and walked past Octavius to the door.  He followed her deeper into the corridor where they entered a secure lift.  Octavius was thankful not to have to cross paths with the clockworks again, but was curious as to what lay below.

___

Kral rolled a set of navigation charts together and dropped them into a case.  Making sure his desk was locked, he left his office and walked to his secretary's desk.

"Have Freeman's men ready my ship for travel.  I want it stocked and ready to set off in two days, with a full crew."

"Yes Captain-Mayor", the secretary replied without looking up from her Jacquard terminal.

Damek walked out of the office, instantly trailed by his personal guard, and walked back to his rooms.  Inside the mapcase he clutched under his arm were charts of the Southern Orient and its coastlines, scribbled and marked with wind, weather, and course projections.
Logged
Lazaras
Zeppelin Admiral
******
United States United States


Have Wierd; Will Travel.


WWW
« Reply #55 on: March 20, 2007, 11:29:38 pm »

Lazaras sighed and tried his best to follow behind the peace officers. He was hurting, both from the fall and from the strain that had been put on his bad leg, but curiosity, or possibly stupidity, demanded he see how this played out.
Logged
Mr. Shank
Gunner
**

*In deep thought*


« Reply #56 on: March 20, 2007, 11:43:50 pm »

COMMUNIQUE FROM CAPTAIN OF THE VIGILANT EYE, SIR FRANCIS MILLER::

message follows::

My dear sirs at the trade post Salvage,
My crew has become struck with the horrible illness of Air Fever. The symptoms began a few weeks ago on the few of the crew, and I simply passed it by. But now, more than three fourths of the crew is ill and I believe I am starting to get the symptoms. I am requesting immediate docking as to acquire medical supplies to prevent any worse outcome from this outbreak. As of payment we will talk upon that subject at a later time.

My regards,
Sir Francis Miller

END TRANSMISSION
Logged

"Peace cannot be kept by force, it can only be achieved by understanding."

  -Albert Einstein
MrFats
Snr. Officer
****
United States United States

Heretic Chronogadgeteer


« Reply #57 on: March 21, 2007, 01:22:49 am »

Following Dr. Kharbana through the long, dark hallway, Octavius was intrigued by the woman, who look no more than a decade older, and her relation to his former Master. "Doctor, I do not wish to impose, but I should like to know what relation Master had to you. He was a rather far reaching gentleman, as many from Scotland Yard through the United States, knew of him, and his deeds. If you do not mind, I would like to know." Smiling gently, Octavius saw Dr. Kharbana was  rather uneasy, as she seemed to eye the holster at his left-hand side, and the blade at his right. "These, Doctor, are merely security precautions. I have no desire to cause grievous injury to any person, but as a member of a council, it has become necessary in this day and age." Shaking his head, Octavius swallows and continues "Master never liked weapons, or violence, and was rather distraught as I sought out my life with a council. He would have rather I stayed in London, studying and furthering my intellect. However, he realized life could be my greatest teacher, and, with a heavy heart, watched as I left. That was the last time I saw him before his passing. I understand it was quick, while he slept." Lowering his head, Octavius stared at the floor of the lift in silence.
Logged
HAC
Steam Theologian
Zeppelin Overlord
*******
Canada Canada


HAC_N800
« Reply #58 on: March 21, 2007, 01:26:40 am »

Paracletus steps from his small room in the communal dormitory, and stretches. The room is small, but adequate, and suite his needs.
"Perhaps I will have my master send some of my rugs along, and a cushion or two on the next trade vessel. I think that woudl be well done, and remind me of home"
He locks the door and begins to make his way to the Traders Levels. Paracletus is happy in his work as a trader, the master-founders treat him well, now that they know that he understands their carft enough to make expalnations of what his Master needs easily.
 After a bit he emerges on the Traders Levels, and breathes in teh smell of the market deeply. He loves the cut-and thrust of trading, and the traders here are sharp, sharp enough to challenge his skills. He misses the old suk of his home, but a market is a market, and even if this one smells and sounds different, he is in his element. He wanders along the stalls, greeting a few traders he has come to know well, and then pauses at a small stall he had not noticed before. Amongst its bits and paieces of waht most surely are salvage plucked from somewhere, he notices a small brass colored cylinder, with odd, half hidden engravings. He picks it up an notices the weight of it, not brass, then. Brushing off the dirt he sees the signs and markings on it, and his eyes open wide in surprise..
"'Surely, it cannot, be not one of THOSE, not here, not now, by the nine devils of Ashram!"  he thinks
Recovering, he asks "Whence came this bauble, old man"
"From the sea, mayhaps, it came in with a load of shells and such on a trade ship"
" A cute toy, I may buy it for my Master, who is amused by such trifles, how much?"
"For you my bald-headed friend - 74 Aeros"
"I have not Aeros, but will this do?" - pulling a small bar of pure fine gold from a pouch.."Take it and buy yourself a better stall, old one"
"Done and Done! cries the trader, handing over the object.

Paracletus tucks the cylinder into a pocket next to hsi body and thinks 'I must get word of this to my Master, in secret, but how?"
He heads off to his office, pondering next steps..


Logged

You never know what lonesome is , 'til you get to herdin' cows.
fmra
Snr. Officer
****

Dollmaker


« Reply #59 on: March 21, 2007, 03:08:25 am »

Transmission from the Free Port of Salvage:

.-..-.-..-.-.-...-.-.--.-.----.-....-.-.-.-.--..--..-..--
ATTN: Captain of the airship Vigilant Eye

Clearance has been granted for the airship Vigilant Eye on Pier 1, Anchor 1.  You and your crew are to remain aboard your ship pending quarantine.  Supplies will be delivered within the hour.

Orson Freeman
Salvage Dockyards

END TRANSMISSION

___

Lazaras limped forward to where the boy and the two officers had turned a corner.  He could not yet see that the boy lay curled on a deck while the officers beat him about the body with their clubs and kicked at him.  Others, women and young children, were peeking out of the welded steel boxes that must be their homes.  Lazaras finally reached the intersection and turned to see the officers marching back toward him, dragging the young man by the arms.  His limp legs dragged along the pathway and his head, a mess of hair and blood, hung as if lifeless.

"Ah, there you are, Sir.  This filth won't be botherin' anyone else.  'E'll be taken up and put right out."

The first officer smiled politely at Lazaras while the second continued speaking.

"I hope you've gotten your valuables back, Sir.  If you wish, we can escort you back up.  You shouldn't 'ang around here too long."

The two officers moved past Lazaras, half-carrying, half-dragging the unconscious young man along behind.
« Last Edit: March 21, 2007, 03:36:19 am by fmra » Logged
Lazaras
Zeppelin Admiral
******
United States United States


Have Wierd; Will Travel.


WWW
« Reply #60 on: March 21, 2007, 03:25:01 am »

He paled at the sight of the young man and stared, speechless as they dragged the boy along. Then, as they started to round the corner and out of sight he spoke up, "Wait!" His voice was raw, but it had volume. "Wait!" He cried again as he started towards them.
Logged
MrFats
Snr. Officer
****
United States United States

Heretic Chronogadgeteer


« Reply #61 on: March 21, 2007, 03:50:31 am »

The lift stops, a hiss is heard within. Dr. Kharbana turns to Octavius. "We have arrived, Sir. Watch your step please, and follow me". Continuing down a long hallway, she stops at a pair of doors and opens them. (gears are heard in the background, as Octavius looks around in wonder). Dr. Kharbana sits down at a chair, placed in the far corner of a laboratory, full of books, beakers, flasks, and various apparatuses. "I know what you are thinking, Mr. Gransville. I do not look like I could possibly be a colleague of your Master. However, I am older than I look. Now, I am very distraught to hear of his untimely demise, he was a great man, and a good friend. I know he entrusted everything to you, and you posses a great wealth, not only monetarily, but intellectually, as a result of him. There is one thing, that he had given me..it is a prototype of a device you had been designing. He had secretly sent it to me a long while back, and I continued the development. I feel you will be pleasantly surprised, and I shall give you all the plans I possess, as well as a few texts for you to read while you are here...In fact, take them, as I have no reason to keep them any longer."

Octavius, now standing several dozen feet at the far side of the room, smiles, looking at Dr. Kharbana. "He told you of my project? I told him not to mention it to anyone...Stubborn old fool. Ah, it matters not. I would like to see your progress, and shall accept the books happily." Sitting down, Octavius waits for Dr. Kharbana to collect all of the items she wishes him to have.

Finally, she puts a large box on the table. It says "Literature" on the side, and is made of wood. "These, Mr. Gransville, are the collected works of my life and, the project I was working on. I hope you find it to your liking, it shall solve many a problem. Please open it after exiting Salvage, as the device is not entirely safe yet. I hope you understand. Now please, let us speak of your Master in a fashion befitting a man of his stature."

Octavius shifts positions, nodding to acknowledge that which Dr. Kharbana has said to him. The two speak of Mr. Gransville's Master with pride, empathy and  bit of sorrow....Hours pass.

Finally, Octavius rises. "Dr. Kharbana...Miss Neelam. I appreciate all the time and energy spent on this, and shall work on it continuously until it is finished. I hope to have this completed shortly. I must take leave, as I now need far more components than I previously calculated. Thank you, once again, I hope to speak with you soon."

Octavius walks out, with Dr. Kharbana following, toward the lift. They both enter, waiting to arrive at their previous location. "If you don't mind, Miss Neelam, can you escort me to the pier? I wish to lock this in my ship." Dr. Kharbana nods, and pushed a button on the lift's side. The lift begins to slow, and they arrive at the at the pier Octavius' ship is located on. Bidding Dr. Kharbana farewell, Octavius proceeds inside, and locks the device in an unknown area of the ship. Emerging, he begins the trip to the scrap yards.
Logged
Mad Salvager
Officer
***
United States United States


If it's not Heavy, we don't Want it


WWW
« Reply #62 on: March 21, 2007, 06:28:43 am »

static ~~~

~~~Cit~~vage~~Anyone there?~~~static~~~omin in....~~~static~~~What doc~~k!!~~~~static.~amage!~~~~questing docking quardi~~~~alvage! Repeat! City of Salvage! Can you hear me!~~~~static~~~~~Too loaded with freight, rear shaft caliper blown~~~Emergency! Request docking!~~~~Airshi~verside~~~request docking clearance! Repeat Airship Riverside requests immediate docking!~~~ahhhh~Where the f~~~~ is the operational mana~~~NO! NOT THAT ONE PUL~~THE ONE~~~XT TO IT~~~ALVAGE! RESPOND!
« Last Edit: March 21, 2007, 08:40:06 am by Mad Salvager » Logged
Col. Adrianna Hazard
Officer
***
Canada Canada

A Most Improper Victorian Lady


WWW
« Reply #63 on: March 21, 2007, 01:54:38 pm »

*Having safely docked the airship and with her small crew tending to it, Colonel Hazard began to wander the marketplace. Upon finding Sterling Lawson chatting with one of the merchants, she requested his audience.*

I have a question for you Mr. Lawson. My airship, Perrenial Fortune will require a restock of various supplies once weekly. Can I arrange through you to have these items available for pickup on the monday of each week? Or must I speak to each of the individual merchants?
Logged
fmra
Snr. Officer
****

Dollmaker


« Reply #64 on: March 21, 2007, 04:16:03 pm »

Sterling turned to the woman.  "Why, yes, I can help arrange for your resupply stops.  If you would like, stop by my offices later and we can set up an account for you."  He said something to the merchant he had been talking to and the man scurried off to the back of his stall and began digging through paperwork.  Sea shells littered the tables everywhere.  Sterling returned his attention to the young lady and smiled.  "As you see, I'm afraid I have certain matters to attend to... I shall be available at my offices again shortly."  He turned back to the junkmonger.

___

Neelam walked hurriedly back to her apartments.  Bustle of the residential decks didn't distract her from her thoughts.  A familiar voice sounded behind her.

"Dr. Kharbana..."

She snapped out of her thoughts and spun around.  Flanked by two clockworks stood Patterson.  Only, instead of looking like some minor bureaucrat, he was dressed in the uniform of Kral's guard.  He stepped forward.

"We have some questions about how the meeting went with Mr. Gransville.  If you would be so kind as to follow me back to Central Telecom."

___

The officers paused and looked back at Lazaras.

"Sir? Is there something more we can do for you?"

"If you want to file a report, you'll 'ave to visit the station on level four."

They stood looking at Lazaras, puzzled by his behavior.
Logged
Lazaras
Zeppelin Admiral
******
United States United States


Have Wierd; Will Travel.


WWW
« Reply #65 on: March 21, 2007, 04:28:10 pm »

"Did you have to beat him?" His tone is more questioning than conversational.
Logged
Ottens
Snr. Officer
****
Netherlands Netherlands


nickottens
WWW
« Reply #66 on: March 21, 2007, 05:07:31 pm »

From the Personal Travel Journal of Ottens, Elder of the OBSCURE


The week upon my return from the Free Port City of Salvage went by in relative serenity, and my calm mind-set was only interrupted by an urgent telegram from my comrade, Sir Fantômas, whom himself had arrived the day previously in the United Air-State of Cumulipolis with the medical supplies we had offered to relief the pestilence in said state. His telegram warned about some sort of advanced weaponry constructed by one "Ishmael" which he feared might pose a thread to our security in the near or distant future. Evidently, this gentlemen "Ishmael" was in the possession of an aeriel contraption that went by the name Leviathan, and according to my comrade this vessel was well capable of inflicting severe damage upon our own airships, as well as upon our recently-acquired headquarters.

Thence I conferred with my associate Mr. IceSixxx and we agreed that fortification of our stronghold was in order, thus I was to purchase the necessary weaponry refinements. Since I had been greatly content with our previous arrangements, I vowed to acquire the goods at the Port City of Salvage and despite Miss Radio Saturday's objections in regard to my health and what she referred to as my "unpleasing habits", I elected that I alone would be quite capable of taking care of this business.

The next day I was on board the Peril heading for Salvage, and due to the great ammount of time it appeared I would be spending aboard airship, I had decided to make myself more comfortable, more at home if you will. Running along the entire width of the lower main deck I had a library decorated, assembling here the works of my favourite authours and of course a fine collection of my favourite beverages. In order to accommodate guests I naturally had a wide variety of fine cigars at my disposal, yet I must admit I'm not much of a smoker lately. I suppose that this clean air and this calm wind that always breezes over the Indian Ocean is mostly accountable for me to have given up this habit. (Note to oneself: Must remind Miss Radio Saturday of my "improved concern over my health".)

Anyway, I fear that these long, rather uneventful journeys result in an over-concern for detail, so I will attempt to divert attention from trivial matters and focus upon my mission instead. However I must make note on one particularly unusual occassion: for at night we came over an isle where the shores were illuminated by an unknown source, apparently from under the waters, and from where a shoal of local mermaids swam up underneath us for several hours.

I spent most of the remainder of our journey in either my cabin on the upper main deck, or in the library, until we arrived and moored at Salvage six days upon our departure from our floating stronghold. I learned that His Lordship whom I had met on previous occassion was unavailable, thus to my dismay I was forced to negotiate with a person of less rank, one Sterling Lawson, charged with the overseeing of the Merchant District. I found this gentelemen in his Office below-deck, talking with a lady of most the impressive stature, dressed in tailored black jacket, underneath which I spotted a coloured waistcoat, fashionable ladies' pants, and raised heels upon which she stepped carefully out of Mr. Lawson's Office when their business had evidently been conducted. Gently she covered her pale hands in leather gloves, and upon her observance of my presence she nodded briefly before she disappeared.

Then when I sought to enter Mr. Lawson's Office I found his door locked, and upon enquiry it appeared he would only be available later that day. Thus I opted to wander the corridors of the City, only to find myself back at the Peril several hours later upon my discovery that Salvage could be a wearisome place indeed for a foreigner like myself. I withdrew in my cabin early that evening, and vowed to set out to meet Mr. Lawson early next morning.
Logged

NEVER WAS MAGAZINE: Exploring a past that never was. SMOKING LOUNGE: Steam- and dieselpunk community.
MrFats
Snr. Officer
****
United States United States

Heretic Chronogadgeteer


« Reply #67 on: March 21, 2007, 05:25:37 pm »

Octavius, turning around briefly, observes the gigantic clockworks, and the gentleman from earlier. Puzzled, he looks on as they disappear into a lift. Thinking nothing of it, he turns, and continues onward toward the scrapyards.

The area is busy, but when he finally arrives at his destination, it is quite a site to behold. An enormous field of scrapped metal workings, dirigible balloons, and various other items lay before him. Approaching a gentleman standing inside the yard, he speaks.

"Sir, I am in need of some supplies and I am hoping you can aid me in my search. I need 40 large gear springs, 20 large gears, 15 rods, about 200 kilos of steel or iron, several dozen pistons of various sizes, and some gauges that no longer function. I trust that you posses such items? I shall, of course, pay you in full upon receipt of them, so long as you help me load them onto my ship."
Logged
Luminous Grey
Gunner
**
United States United States

The sky outside is...


« Reply #68 on: March 21, 2007, 07:53:22 pm »

(Geez... I'm out sick a couple of days and I miss all this... I'm taking some liberties in explaining the logistics of what's happened, so please forgive me, MrFats, and let me know if I should change anything. Didn't think you actually had a ship...)

Mr. Granville's request for leave had been nothing short of startling. Only a day or two had he been part of the Vaporous Blue's crew, and already he was dilly-dallying off to Lord knows where. Regardless, the astounding job he had done in repairing the balloon's systems could not be denied, and at the very least he seemed the trustworthy sort. Grey had been around her share of untruthful people, and her new mechanic was not one of them.

Realizing the man had no ship of his own, or not aware of one if he had, she agreed to take him to the city of Salvage. Pier 1, Anchor 7 was the designated place. Having moored the balloon in the appropriate site, she watched as he shuffled off with an escort, disappearing into the behemoth of a structure. She sighed and went to her small cot in the back of the gondola to rest for a bit. She had been to Salvage before, and quite frankly, it was a bit overwhelming. The masses of people made the public areas difficult to navigate, and in any case, being part of the crowd was not her style.

After a few hours of napping, Grey was awoken by a pounding on the door. There was a messenger with a small package and a note for her, from Mr. Granville. She read over the note and ecstatically opened the box. Inside were two guns, just like those he had previously described. On the side of each, an "L.G." was monogrammed in ornate lettering. More impressive though, was the technical beauty of these weapons, each more mechanically sophisticated then she could have imagined. She was eager to test them out, but certainly now was not the best time. She slipped in the Tesla Cannon into the empty holster at her side. A perfect fit! Perhaps this was coincidence, but it seemed a bit more like fate that she was to receive this. She could not wait to see Granville again to thank him.

However, the message said his business may take a few days. She could wait for him at Salvage, but was unsure whether her docking clearance would expire by then. In any case, she decided to make use of the city's resources while she was there. She stepped out onto the dock and bolted the main door of the ship, securing it with a padlock. It may not have been the world's most secure method, but it had yet to fail her, and she had little of much value anyway, other than, of course, her dear balloon.

Around on the docks, she noticed all manner of airships; some large, some small, some so opulent they could only belong to royalty. She looked over her own and then back to the others with a hint of jealousy. As fine as her balloon was, the gondola was beginning to rust in places, and could use maybe a good coat of paint. Even the balloon itself (that is, the envelope) could stand mending, with its fine azure canvas ripped and patched in several spots. No matter, with her new affiliation, Grey would be able to find time and resources for this necessary upkeep.

Before entering the main city, she took a look around the skies once more. Something felt off, and she thought she smelled smoke. On another look, she noticed an airship approaching from the east. Its flight was erratic, and it appeared to be losing altitude rapidly. She ran back to her ship and hurridly unlocked the door. Back in the control area, she searched channels for incoming transmissions in the area. She was able to hear a staticky, desperate sounding message:

...mergency! Request docking!~~~~Airshi~verside~~~request docking clearance! Repeat Airship Riverside requests immediate docking!~~~ahhhh~Where the f~~~~ is the operational mana~~~NO! NOT THAT ONE PUL~~THE ONE~~~XT TO IT~~~ALVAGE! RESPOND!

Without thought she grabbed the transmitter, shouting, "Airship Riverside! This is Captain Grey of the balloon Vaporous Blue! Do you read me? I repeat, do you read me? I am not affiliated with the City of Salvage, but I am willing to move from my anchor so that you may dock. I am located Pier 1, anchor 7! Again, Pier 1, anchor 7! I am pulling out now, so please dock here! Again, Pier 1, anchor 7 is now open for docking!"

She rushed back out to the pier, released anchor, and cast off. With any luck, the ship had received her trasmission. For good measure, she tried again, "Airship Riverside! This is Captain Grey of the balloon Vaporous Blue! Do you read me? In case you did not receive my last trasmission...."
« Last Edit: March 22, 2007, 01:26:26 am by Luminous Grey » Logged

So I like to get high off the dust on the 170-year-old books in the library. What of it?
Proud Member of P.I.R.A.T.E.S.
fmra
Snr. Officer
****

Dollmaker


« Reply #69 on: March 21, 2007, 11:55:33 pm »

The old man wiped his hands on a greasy rag and smiled at Octavius.

"Well, I think I may have everything you're looking for. The iron and steel though might be better purchased from the Merchant's foundries.  Its more expensive, but I don't carry anything processed.  If you want to cart around 200 kilos of junk, then we can talk.  My name's Erasmus, what's yours?"

The good-humored old man held out his hand to Octavius.

___

The Officers let Oliver's limp body drop to the decking.  They stared curiosly at Lazaras and each other.

"Oi, now what you care what we do with 'im?  He's a criminal and a lousy barnacle."

"That's right, you just mind your own business and let us do our job."

The two officer's demeanors had changed from helpful protectors to that of common thugs.

"Now, off with you back upstairs before we have to take you in too for obstructing Merchant business.

With that said, the officers hauled the boy up again and started their ascent back into the city.

Logged
Lazaras
Zeppelin Admiral
******
United States United States


Have Wierd; Will Travel.


WWW
« Reply #70 on: March 22, 2007, 12:19:35 am »

Lazaras shook his head and limped off, not towards where the officers were going, but deeper into the tangled mess he had fallen into. That is to say he decided to stay on THIS deck and poke about a bit before going back to civilized shores.
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fmra
Snr. Officer
****

Dollmaker


« Reply #71 on: March 22, 2007, 12:32:58 am »

The Riverside came in low and fast toward the platform, her hull grazing the envelopes of two other airships, the Royal March and the Crimson Sparrow.  One, the Royal March was broken loose from her anchor and rolled off the deck, taking her crew with her.

The Dockyard rumbled and a shrill noise, like that of a young rok, peeled through the air as the Riverside touched down on the platform.  Dragged by her own momentum, she squeeled forward another twenty yards before coming to a lilting rest near the center of the pier.

The Crimson Sparrow's leaking envelope had caught flame and the fire was quickly spreading to nearby ships.  Not too far down the pier, the Peril sat serenely anchored to the deck.  The crash has aroused Ottens from his otherwise uneventful evening, as well as drawing an increasing swarm of people from the underdeck.

A radio warning to Miss Grey, reprimanding her for undocking without clearance, was quickly replaced by shouted evacuations of balloons near the crash site and orders for fire and crowd control crews.

Down below, Octavius and Erasmus had barely felt the shake from the crash, so had not been drawn from their search for parts.  Lazaras, on the other hand, being outside, had heard the boom of exploding gas up above and made to hurry upwards.
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Luminous Grey
Gunner
**
United States United States

The sky outside is...


« Reply #72 on: March 22, 2007, 01:11:44 am »

The Vaporous Blue just managed to clear the docking area when the Riverside careened past her, forcing the balloon back. Grey watched with astonishment as the ship crashed down on the pier, thanking Lady Luck that she had not been part of that collision. A stern voice crackled across her radio:

'Attention Vaporous Blue! You have not yet received clearance to undock. Failure to comply to...'

The voice crackled out. Grey slowed her vehicle's movement and threw open a window on the starboard side. The air was filled with smoke, and she pulled her goggles down over her eyes, holding a hand over her mouth to breathe. The chaos was what would be imagined, given the situation, people scurrying around the piers, trying to escape the growing flames. All one could hear was the shouts and alarms. Down below, one of the more opulent ships she had seen, a beautiful vessel of gold and crimson, fought to gain altitude after tumbling from the deck.

Across the radio were cries of confusion and pleas of "M'aidez!" from various ships in the area. Grey slammed the window shut and returned to her controls. Her options were to flea the area, or to stay and help. Her mechanic was still within the city, but was in no direct danger at the moment, and would certainly radio her when he was ready to be picked up.

Unable to decide what to do, she brought the Blue up higher and continued to survey the developing situation.
Logged
MrFats
Snr. Officer
****
United States United States

Heretic Chronogadgeteer


« Reply #73 on: March 22, 2007, 01:34:11 am »

"My name, good Sir is...."barely hearing the loud boom,and feeling a slight shake, the jittery Octavius spun about, concerned for the welfare of his captain..Regaining his composure, he spoke to the man, as he was confident that his captain was more than capable of steering her ship to safety.

"Octavius. Whatever you have, I shall take and pay in full. As soon as those items are ready, please move them to Pier 1, Anchor 7. I am much obliged, however I must quickly move to the Merchant's acquire the 200 kilos of iron and steel I require...Please, let us make haste!"

Nervously grabbing for his wallet, Octavius attempts to remain calm, but cannot shake the ominous feeling he has.
« Last Edit: March 22, 2007, 03:08:01 am by MrFats » Logged
Lazaras
Zeppelin Admiral
******
United States United States


Have Wierd; Will Travel.


WWW
« Reply #74 on: March 22, 2007, 01:46:27 am »

Pain coursed up his injured left leg with each step but Lazaras ran for the nearest lift going to the docks. His crew, he hoped, would know what best to do both to preserve his ship and, more importantly to him, their lives. However as they were here on his orders Lazaras was trying to get to where things were going on. Who knows, maybe he might even be of some help, not likely as he only knew a little first aid(binding wounds, stitching lacerations, using alcohol(or whiskey) as a disinfectant, and a little about splints and bone setting) and his knowledge about airships stopped at general handyman type things..
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