The Scenario

[Eric]

The lot of you have tickets on the next wormhole trip to Venus, scheduled for noon on the 14th of April, 1892. Sadly, your enjoyment of breakfast in the hall of the Grosvenor House Hotel is interrupted when you read the headline of the News of the Empire that the ring portal sustained serious damage overnight! What ever shall be done?

 

[Amy]

Melisandre Abernathy - Daring Damsel 

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Fortitude: 6 | Faculty: 4 | Form: 5 | 

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The Grosvenor House Hotel was a perfectly reasonable hotel.  It was a quite lovely hotel, in fact.  Melisandre, however, was bored, anxious, and quite keen to be on her way.  She had heard so much about Venus, but had never been there.  For whatever reason, that was the one place that her mother never wished to return to, especially with a child.  Whatever the case, Melisandre had heard from her father countless times how it was proclaimed that any family of Willian Severnius Abernathy would always be welcomed as True Children of Venus.

The way that father told the stories, and the way mother tried to get him to stop, put Melisandre's mind that it was her mother, Eugenia, who had had more adventure on Venus than her father, and she was not of a mind to see Melisandre repeat it.  It must have been quite the tale, given her father still loves to tell of his adventure on Venus to a willing audience - which Meli always was.

It is with that anxious energy that one gets at the start of a true adventure into the unknown that Melisandre sat at the table eating her breakfast.  He father had gotten her in the habit of reading the broadsheets every day, for one never knew what adventure would be hinted at in their stories.  And the more salacious the paper, the more interesting the adventure.  There were a few newspapers and tabloids next to Meli, but it was the right reputable News of the Empire which held the young woman's attention.  Her glass of orange juice was set down as she read the paper, eyes widening in shock and a bit of terror.  The portal to Venus had been damaged the night before, and was currently inoperable.

That ... that couldn't ... what were the odds?!

Blinking a few times in surprise at the news, Melisandre took several deep breaths as her mind whirled.  A good thing she had set down her glass as her hands clenched tightly in panic that the young woman tried to control and hide by placing her fists in her lap.  It wouldn't do to shatter such a nice glass at such a fine table, after all.  The timing... it was just too suspect.

Surely Balthazar (Balty, as Balthazar Theocious III insisted his friends called him - which Melisandre did not consider herself such) had nothing to do with this.  He had just two days prior begged Melisandre not to go on this great adventure, but there had been a call for able-bodied, and well-versed adventurers and scholars on the subject of Venus, and Meli had made certain to obtain (and read several times) all of her father's notes.  Her name alone was enough to get past the fact that she wore a skirt and was more 'delicate' than the hardy folk that were also applying.  Being of the 'fairer' sex was such a disappointment, at times - mostly because Meli found it disappointing that she was considered so much weaker.  And yet she could lift most men looking down on her from the ground with one hand.

Weaker, ha!

No, Balthazar was smitten with the Abernathy name, and far more interested in writing serialized stories and books than doing any research or going on an adventure himself.  And that included getting his hands dirty.  It was quite out of character for him - wasn't it?

Her mother ... was another matter.  Not that the woman had the means and contacts for such a disaster - correct?  She certainly wouldn't waste any time trying to fetch Melisandre home, however.  The woman likely had Balthazar in a carriage on his way right then!

Quickly Meli's mind whirled.  She was already packed, so excited she was for the journey.  She would pay a few quid more to the porter to secure her bags outside of her room somewhere so that Balthazar and her mother couldn't demand they be returned to the family home.  She might need some of those books and notes!  Meli also had to leave.  And the excuse to do so was staring right back at her from the News of the Empire!  

Melisandre Abernathy would simply have to help investigate what happened to the ring portal.  
For the good of the Empire, of course.

 

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Mechanics Abilities: Ordinary: A Lady Always Carries a Fan Extraordinary: Born on a Jovian Moon Humdrum: Inspiration for Jane Porter ___________________________________________________ Main Hand: Empty Off Hand: A fan, of course ___________________________________________________ Quirk: Blink of Surprise!

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[SerakHawk]

 Pascal d'Jezero - Secluded Scion 

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Fortitude: 6 | Faculty: 5 | Form: 5 | 

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The Grosvenor House Hotel was as decent a place as any other to while away the hours before flight from yet another planet. Pascal barely registered the opulence of the space around him as he took his morning coffee. While England was known for its tea, coffee hadn't quite made a big an impact on the hub city of London, unlike his home where his family cultivated their coffee fields and exported many strands in bulk. The coffee he was drinking however was bitter in the extreme and Pascal grimaced each time he took a sip while reading the morning paper.

No.

No no. 

This was too coincidental, I followed the program. I left no trace and picked a random destination, place to stay and time. It can't be... but maybe it is. They might have the program. Of course they do - is it time to do what it says not to then?

Pascal had slowly placed the paper back on the table as he pondered his next action. Not bothering to finish the dreadful abomination of coffee he abruptly stood, collected his sword and cape and headed to the front desk to make some inquiries regarding the ring portals. A good investigation starts with the groundwork - or so the novels go.

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Mechanics Abilities: Ordinary: Sword & Cloak Style (8) Extraordinary: Mechanical Clock-work eye (6) Humdrum: Disguised Martian Scion (15) ___________________________________________________ Main Hand: Sword Off Hand: A cloak ___________________________________________________ Quirk: "Wait... aren't you _______"

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Edited February 11, 2023 by SerakHawk (see edit history)

[Eric]

The concierge is an eminently professional chap of about fifty, whose impeccably trimmed mustache barely twitches at the mention of the ring portals even as his brow wrinkles somewhat distastefully. "Right capital pieces of technology, so I understand, but I must admit I would never trust such a thing. Dematerializing myself into specks of dust and flinging across the ether in the hopes of being put back together correctly at the far end? The mere thought is enough to make one's hair stand on end." Still, he is able to provide a printed schedule book for each of the major portals, along with step by step directions for navigating over to Holborne.

[zabbarot]

  Petar Branko Murat - Fugitive Engineer

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Fortitude: 6 | Faculty: 3 | Form: 4 | 

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From a distance Petar appeared the model gentleman. He was clean and freshly shaven. His suit was in the newest fashionable style, Parisian perhaps. His eyes told a different story however, one of a haunted man who had not slept in days. They were deep sunken and bags had turned to luggage. Petar glanced furtively around the hotel lobby as he exited the lift and approached the concierge. He had read of the damaged portal in the paper that was delivered to his room, but he dared hope it was a misunderstanding.

I burned the last of my connections to get that ticket.

"Please, sir, the ring portal? When will she be repaired?"

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Mechanics Abilities: Ordinary: Showmanship (12) Extraordinary: Flash of Genius! (30) Humdrum: Fugitive (2) __________________________________________________ Quirk: What hath science wrought?

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[SerakHawk]

 Pascal d'Jezero - Secluded Scion 

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Fortitude: 6 | Faculty: 5 | Form: 5 | 

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As Pascal was just finishing studying the schedule book a gentlemen also approached the concierge asking about repair times. I'm not supposed to talk to strangers - I'm not supposed to.. I'm doing the opposite right. 

Pascal turns toward the new comer, only now seeing the haunted look in his eyes but that isn't enough to stop the words from tumbling out.

"My Good Sir, I doubt this fine hotel master would know such things as of yet! I also am invested to know the repair time - but to find out you'd have to go there directly."

As the words fall out of his mouth Pascal does a double take, drawing himself upright in a military stature. 

"In Fact. I shall do just that, come with me and we can find out together!"

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Mechanics Abilities: Ordinary: Sword & Cloak Style (8) Extraordinary: Mechanical Clock-work eye (6) Humdrum: Disguised Martian Scion (15) ___________________________________________________ Main Hand: Sword Off Hand: A cloak ___________________________________________________ Quirk: "Wait... aren't you _______"

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[Dingmamon]

 Sir Andrew Brisco Havelock - Big Game Hunter 

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Fortitude: 6 | Faculty: 4 | Form: 5 | 

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Sir Havelock almost spilled his tea as he read the headline. The man in full khaki with bushy mustache and safari hunter's hat blustered indignantly as he spoke aloud to no one in particular.

"Bloody hell! Of COURSE as soon as I'm about to go on my most exciting hunt yet, the bloody portal breaks down! I can't believe the blasted luck I've had so far. A two week delay on finding a proper guide, My rifle repairs taking an extra three days longer because I had to wait on a new compressor intake valve, and now this! At this rate, the Venusian Sky Raptors will go extinct by the time I get there!"

The rantings of the hunter seem largely to be the frustrations of a man who likes the sound of his own voice perhaps a bit too much. However, that doesn't seem to stop him from overhearing the plan of the two speaking with the concierge. With a clatter, Sir Havelock sets down his tea and collects his long case, slinging it over his shoulder as he joins the two men.

"What's that I heard? Investigating the portal directly? I do think I'll have a few words with the conductor running the operation. Quite a stern talking to about punctuality and the importance of forethought and planning for emergencies."

Sir Havelock stands roughly two meters tall, of thin, but athletic build. The case he now carries slung over his shoulder is comically large, only a tad shorter than he is.

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Mechanics Abilities: Ordinary: You call that a knife? (8) Extraordinary: Patented "Dirt Nap" Tranquilizer Darts (18) Humdrum: Trophy Hunter (5) ___________________________________________________ Quirk: "Clever (girl/chap)..."

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[Amy]

Melisandre Abernathy - Daring Damsel 

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Fortitude: 6 | Faculty: 4 | Form: 5 | 

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Arranging, quietly of course, to have her bags taken care of while she intends to slip away before her mother and Balthazar could find her, it's hard not for Melisandre to over hear the commotion of the men, expressing similar views and intent as her own.  

 

How fortuitous!

 

Pulling out a pair of spectacles from her bag, and grabbing one of her books, Meli moves to be an unobtrusive shadow to the men.  The glass of the spectacles provided no alteration to her sight, they were just a ruse - men often overlooked the book reading, bespectacled woman as something harmless, after all.  Perhaps this could work here.  If Meli stayed close enough, perhaps she could even share the same auto-carriage or bus, by happenstance, and listen in on their thoughts on the matter.  More than one viewpoint was useful, after all.

 

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Mechanics Abilities: Ordinary: A Lady Always Carries a Fan Extraordinary: Born on a Jovian Moon Humdrum: Inspiration for Jane Porter ___________________________________________________ Main Hand: Empty Off Hand: A fan, of course ___________________________________________________ Quirk: Blink of Surprise!

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[Eric]

The distance is not far, but the Grosvenor staff would sooner perish than let their guests walk even a quarter mile. A turbine coach is summoned at once, and the mechanical driver politely tips his tin bowler to the concierge as the fussy old man holds the door open. "Portal park if you please; these fine folk have business with which to attend." He then notices Melisandre pursuing and ahems some what diffidently to the eager trio. "If the gentlemen will not mind, ladies first...?"

[Amy]

Melisandre Abernathy - Daring Damsel 

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Fortitude: 6 | Faculty: 4 | Form: 5 | 

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Looking at the Concierge, Melisandre smiles as she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose.  That man deserves a generous tip - she'll have to make certain he gets one when she comes back or moves her bags.  "That is so thoughtful of you, kind sir," Meli offers both sweetly and genuinely.  

Without a word to the men, Melisandre then steps forward, slings her book bag over her shoulder, grabs the hand rail, and helps herself deftly into the turbine coach.  A bit much for the distance of travel, really - but they were exciting when they could get up to speed.   

Hopefully this driver was fully charged and not also glitching - though, that might be a bit exciting way to start the morning. Melisandre Abernathy!  Just because you want excitement doesn't mean you should wish such dreadful luck on others! whispered Meli's thoughts speaking common sense ... in her mother's voice and tone.  That left Meli fighting the urge to roll her eyes at herself.

 

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Mechanics Abilities: Ordinary: A Lady Always Carries a Fan Extraordinary: Born on a Jovian Moon Humdrum: Inspiration for Jane Porter ___________________________________________________ Main Hand: Empty Off Hand: A fan, of course ___________________________________________________ Quirk: Blink of Surprise!

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[Eric]

After allowing the gentlemen to board, the driver closes the door and takes his position at the rear. The turbine-works whines to life, a billow of excess steam shooting into the air as the vehicle ponderously rolls forward. The main advantage to the turbine-cars over the horse-and-carriage they replaced is the prominent position of the cab at the front, affording a marvelous view of the neighborhoods of London.

From a concealed loudspeaker in the cab's roof, a polite female voice announces the parameters of the trip. "Portal park, to be reached in four minutes' time."

Four minutes is scarcely enough to allow for polite conversation, let alone the coach to reach its top speed of twenty miles per hour. In fact, it has barely reached a man's running pace before it is slowing again, bringing itself automatically to a halt across the street from the ring portals. There is a trace acrid odor upon the air here, and wisps of smoke still rise from the site; the ring itself, normally in a vertical orientation, has been knocked flat by whatever caused the damage.

The driver quickly hobbles to the door in the usual mechanical-man shuffle walk, tipping his tin hat once more as he opens the door to permit the occupants to exit.

[SerakHawk]

 Pascal d'Jezero - Secluded Scion 

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Fortitude: 6 | Faculty: 5 | Form: 5 | 

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Pascal was silent in the cab ride, sharing a ride with so many strangers was definitely far from his 'normal' and beyond his boundary of comfort. The woman having squeezed herself into the same destination barely caused additional stress in the already stressful situation. 

Leaving the cab He settles himself in the bustle of the portal park, or the relative lack of bustle as it was. What would usually be crowds of people waiting to pass through the various portals were resigned to small knots of loiterers and whispering crowds. Gawkers from all across town were crowding the security tape set up around the scene of the damage.

Looking for the closest ticket booth Pascal waves toward it with the group. 

"Well, it doesn't look like we'll be the only inquirers. Shall we go?"

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Mechanics Abilities: Ordinary: Sword & Cloak Style (8) Extraordinary: Mechanical Clock-work eye (6) Humdrum: Disguised Martian Scion (15) ___________________________________________________ Main Hand: Sword Off Hand: A cloak ___________________________________________________ Quirk: "Wait... aren't you _______"

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[Amy]

Melisandre Abernathy - Daring Damsel 

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Fortitude: 6 | Faculty: 4 | Form: 5 | 

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It was, indeed, a short ride, and Melisandre didn't have enough time to decide to either pull out a book or pull out her fan.  Having just decided on a book, the carriage is slowing and Meli is cursing herself for not having been observing, albeit at a distance, the approaching station.  Grabbing her fan, instead, Meli pushes her glasses up to the bridge of her nose - she really should have gotten a better fitting set - and moves with the rest of the group.  The young woman's eyes dart about, looking for familiar faces to steer clear from, then narrow at the thought of such an obvious place to begin their inquest.  

"Do go ahead, will you?" the young woman offers, fanning herself absently.  "We are about to have a long day, I think I will slip to the powder room and see what I can overhear on the way there.  Then I will come back and meet you fine gentlemen," she says with a bright smile.  "That is, if you don't mind."

Without actually waiting, because Meli was nothing if not impetuous, the young woman pushes her glasses up again and then starts walking forward as if she absolutely knows where she is going and had every right to do so.

 

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Mechanics Abilities: Ordinary: A Lady Always Carries a Fan Extraordinary: Born on a Jovian Moon Humdrum: Inspiration for Jane Porter ___________________________________________________ Main Hand: Empty Off Hand: A fan, of course ___________________________________________________ Quirk: Blink of Surprise!

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[Eric]

Within the confines of the security cordon, a black-cloaked inspector of Scotland Yard is overseeing the work of a trio of local bobbies. The ticketing booth is not too far away; in fact, the tape is tied to both sides of the booth, such that the employee entrance is within the boundary. It matters not to the two mechanical men staffing the booth, as they are content to sit for hours at a time and need neither breaks nor meals nor sleep. Though in truth it appears that one of them has been deactivated, perhaps for lack of customers; its bulb-shaped head lolls awkwardly to one side, its "eyes" staring blankly into the sky. The other brightens at Pascal's approach, sensing by proximity the potential need for its services. It fixes its photosensors in his direction, standing by until he comes near enough to speak at a conversational volume. "Good day sir and madam," it intones in the sing-song metallic voice characteristic of second-generation mech-men (the first lacked any sort of vocalization). "Are you in need of tickets for transport?"