|
Post by Kelila on Sept 20, 2009 21:34:37 GMT -6
((OH CRAP. Kendi. XDDD I was working on your code with a scrap of paper and an online translator, with my pen in my mouth, and when I came out with the solution, the pen literally fell from my mouth.)) ((Also, sorry about the late post. I've been brain-dead lately. ^^; ))
As soon as Jonathan had heard Tinker's erratic clapping, he had frozen in his tracks and begun translating, his brain calculating with dizzying speed. He knew Morse code just about as well as he knew English; it was one of the skills his grandfather had taught him when he was younger. Jonathan recognized the strange rhythm as such, and read the message in his head. Realizing its import, he broke out into a cold sweat. "No... Somehow, I knew it would reach this level," he whispered hoarsely to himself. "But who was he signalling?" Not wanting to make any sudden moves, he tried to slip quietly through the excited crowd towards the nearest door. "And what can I do? It's not up to me now..." He shouldered his way through, and reaching the side door, something made him look up. There. A man with a gun. All the color drained from Jonathan's face as he reached his hand behind his back and fumbled with the doorknob. He had to get out of there before anything else happened.
Liza was doing calculations of her own, mumbling to herself as she scribbled figures on the back of her copy of the map. "Hmmm. Given the current wind conditions and jetstreams... I'd say... it would be imprudent to take the airship on a westerly route over the continent. Too slow. Need something faster..." Hearing Elena mention the railroad, her ears perked up. "Now, there's an idea," she continued to herself. "Either that or coach, and that's a bit undependable. Rail it is!" She tucked her pencil behind her ear and stepped up to Elena. "Excuse me, Miss Elena, but I believe I am in need of a travel partner. Would you perhaps like to form a sort of alliance for the duration of the hunt?" She swung her parasol up to her shoulder and posed like a warrior headed to battle, a genial smile on her face.
|
|
|
Post by ptsluvsnfl on Sept 23, 2009 13:37:14 GMT -6
(( Dangit, Jonathan, you whimp! Okay, last chance for a character with a better conscience to figure the code out and do something before I let Due loose. XD That sounds funny. Anyway, silly me, -Due can't use a blowgun if his face is covered, *smacks self* Change that to a small hand-gun. Lol. ))
|
|
|
Post by Kelila on Sept 23, 2009 19:12:33 GMT -6
((Who knows. Johnny boy may have a change of heart. He just thinks it's out of his hands now. Hahaaaaaa, Kendi. XDDD I've done things like that before...))
|
|
|
Post by ptsluvsnfl on Sept 23, 2009 20:36:25 GMT -6
(( If you want, poor Johnny can be the first to go. XD -kidding, kidding! )) Jonathan's quick movements caught Due's notice, and he followed the man with vague interest. Fingers still clasping the trigger of his pointed gun, Due met gazes with the Jonathan as the heir, in turn, became aware of the assassin. Had Mr. Norrisson been a bolder man, the meeting might have ended Due's career; equally could be said for Due. It was doubtful, now that Due would recognize Jonathan in the future had they the chance to meet again. For both Due's memory and reach of vision were very poor.
|
|
|
Post by ptsluvsnfl on Oct 19, 2009 19:57:16 GMT -6
(( Clap clap clap! ... Clap! Clap clap clap! ... Clap clap clap! Clap! Clap clap clap! ... Clap! --- . --- ---.--- . T-A-K-E Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap clap clap! Clap clap clap! ... --- --- 3 Clap! Clap clap clap! Clap! Clap! ... Clap! Clap! ... Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap clap clap! Clap! ...Clap! Clap! Clap!.---.. .. ...--- . ... L-I-V-E-S -If the code was keeping anyone from posting, please pardon me. Cookies to Keli for figuring it out herself. Anyway, please continue the role play now. ))
|
|
|
Post by Daeiel on Nov 15, 2009 16:23:00 GMT -6
((Oh, no. I was waiting for Mr. Angelo.))
|
|
|
Post by ptsluvsnfl on Nov 17, 2009 17:33:43 GMT -6
(( Oh... well... what DID happen to Angelo...? *looks* Now I feel foolish. XD Whatever happened to Turkey anyway? I just hope... OH NO!))
|
|
|
Post by Paladin on Dec 13, 2009 3:45:29 GMT -6
"That would be splendid!" Elena exclaimed with a charming smile, although not necessarily out of the joy of a female companion. In her eyes, one less person against her is one step closer the finish line. "Would you meet us at the train station? Evan and I must stop at our rooms at the Rhinecliffe outside of town. We need to gather our belongi- what is it Blaire!" The mechanical cat began to lightly claw at Elena, trying to wrangle itself out of her arms. "She seems unnerved. More so than usual. We best leave before she causes a scene" Fluke suggested as Blaire began hissing. "Mind if we step outside, Liza? That may calm her nerves." She asked as she tried to calm her invention by covering it's copper ears.
((Yay, a post! Being awake at 1:45 AM is all it takes!))
|
|
|
Post by Daeiel on Jan 11, 2010 10:28:02 GMT -6
"Our mode of transportation is this way, Mr. Angelo," announced Richie, replacing his brown bowler on top of his head.
Kip straggled behind, still fussing with the flask of chemicals and the advertisement. Several sets of fingerprints were starting to light up now, hopefully the patterns revealed would lead to actual people on file, so as to clearly determine their rivals.
Richie adjusted his gloves, tugging on them to make sure they were justly tight, continuing to weave his way through the exiting masses, all trying to reach their respective vehicles and race to the next step in the treasure.
But what was the next step, exactly? The strange unknown man had signaled, using his applause as Morse Code, for them to take three lives. But did he mean now, or later? If he meant now, surely people would be struggling to bump each other off, unless he meant three specific lives. If so, who were they? And why would he dictate such a thing, unless he fancied himself an assistant sponsor?
Richard Mayhew did not know what to think of it, and thus did not think anything of it.
|
|
|
Post by ptsluvsnfl on Jan 27, 2010 18:03:06 GMT -6
Angelo turned to follow Richie, replying simply with a “Mm,” as he did so. He tried not to meet eyes with anyone as he passed them; fearing he might somehow betray himself if he did. These days, human eyes were hateful, prying, things that always seemed to reveal every shallow thing in his soul. Angelo, still at a point of ethical turmoil, loathed human interaction for this reason. He wondered if he would ever feel comfortable around his new companions… -he wondered if he would be ordered to kill them before that happened.
Shrugging, the man reassured himself that the thought did not bother him. Not everyone here was a blameless and law-abiding adventurer (that was obvious); perhaps his being there coincided with divine punishment on such people.
Gripping his staff more tightly, Angelo attempted to keep it out of the way as he wove through the crowd. “Mr. Mayhew,” he called awkwardly, finding himself three men and a dog between himself and his traveling companions, “what mode of transportation will we be taking?” It was at this point that he realized he was not prepared in the least for a trip. Reaching into his pocket, the man was relieved to at least find his wallet at his side.
---
Noise… the noises were so loud and the movement of the crowd was dizzying. Concentration was hard. Standing was painful.
He was not well. Due found himself slumping his full weight against the railing in order to support his stance. It was too much…. Where was Angelo? Lowering the revolver, Due dragged along the rail toward the stairs. Each step jerked pain through his body until upon reaching the floor, he sunk down.
“You think he’s alright over there?” a nearby man questioned his friend. Due glanced up to find a helping hand reaching down toward him. He became rigid and watched the hand as one would a tiger.
“You look a little tipsy there; -maybe one too many drinks before starting off, eh?” The man patted his shoulder, “Maybe one more won’t hurt you much more then, hm? Get you back on your feet, haha,” and slipped him a small leather flask, “I’m feeling generous as I’m coming to a large amount of money soon, haha,”
“I’m under-aged,” Due responded in his soft voice. The stranger seemed taken aback; this peculiarly-shrouded person in the nice coat and white gloves was not an old gentleman but a boy. Now this boy was holding his shoulder where it had previously been touched as though there were something wrong with it. “Uno,” he said, even more quietly.
“Eh?” responded the stranger.
“This is yours, sir,” Due tossed the flask to him nonchalantly. Yet, as the man caught it, he felt that something was very wrong. He attempted to shrug it off.
“Your loss I guess. Good luck to you, boy,” taking a swig, the stranger eyed Due as the boy inched away. “Strange people here. I wonder…” After a minute or so, there was a sudden sharp pain, and then the man began to have convulsions.
Due was now out of earshot from the scene, seemingly unrelated. Taking one quick glance back, he saw a small crowd had gathered and that the man now lay still. Due slipped an empty syringe into one of his pockets and continued forward.
A strange sound caught his attention, and he noticed a woman standing with a strange moving object in her arms. To him, there was some safe familiarity in mechanics akin to his employer and his partner. Having felt somewhat overwhelmed by the crowd, Due followed the group.
(( Sorry for the super long post and I’m even more sorry for such a long wait! And once again I develop my characters instead of helping with the plot. -___- ))
|
|
|
Post by Daeiel on Jan 27, 2010 20:09:55 GMT -6
"Well, Mr. Angelo, it's....um..."
Richard checked over his shoulder, looking for his new, and shorter, counterpart. The man seemed to have gotten lost in the crowd.
Kip, as usual, was not paying attention, but managed to save his little experiment after crashing into Richie. "God in Heaven, Richie! Look what you nearly did!"
"Kip, I've said this before, and I'll say it again. If you looked where you're going, things like this wouldn't happen." Richie brushed past his eccentric companion, hoping the unseen Mr. Angelo could see his brown bowler hat. "Just follow me if you can see me, Mr. Angelo!"
Kip took this as an ample time to run towards their vehicular transport. It was a small boat, rather like a river cruise, but instead of the steam powering a wheel, it powered three thrusters, which enabled the ship to fly. There was an underberth with both their supplies and hooks for hammocks. On deck, in the store cabin, were Richie's charts and bankbooks, as well as the cleaner for his mechanical eye, accompanied by Kip's undefinable objects and beakers, chemical supplies, and whatever nick-knacks they had picked up on their many adventures.
Christopher Saunders raced to the vehicle, gently capped his experiment and placed the changing prints securely on the side of the boat. Then, after a few steps to the left of the valuable information, he vaulted, knocking his goggles more askew than they were. He somersaulted, caught his balance, and picked up the fingerprint residue once more.
"Richie!" he called, "I'm gonna start the engine!"
Richie was still walking, as calmly as he could, given that the crowds were swarming, and was still looking for Mr. Angelo.
|
|
|
Post by Paladin on Jan 28, 2010 23:09:55 GMT -6
(( YAY KENDI! Now we just need Kelila to get her butt over here ))
|
|
|
Post by ptsluvsnfl on Jan 29, 2010 20:53:46 GMT -6
(( Lol, just how tall is Richie exactly? Angelo's a fairly big guy, you know. I guess he isn't a noticeably tall man, but he's no shorty either, haha. And a mechanical eye, eh? Cool. Kip is also quite the acrobat. You know you missed me, Turkey. XD ))
|
|
|
Post by Daeiel on Jan 30, 2010 0:59:37 GMT -6
((Oh, Richie is about 6'5". So, to him, everyone is a 'shorty'. And I believe I mentioned his mechanical eye earlier....*flips through imaginary book* Ah, yes....it's on page two of this role-play. ))
|
|
|
Post by ptsluvsnfl on Jan 30, 2010 14:20:36 GMT -6
(( Haha, how could I have possibly missed that? XD I'm such a safe steampunk role player. None of my characters are half as interesting. Perhaps you should put more emphasis on how tall he is rather than how short everyone else is in comparrison. The average-height people have him outnumbered, you know. XD ))
|
|
|
Post by Daeiel on Jan 31, 2010 0:04:34 GMT -6
((Oh, I know. I really haven't put much emphasis on what these two fools look like, more on how they behave. I suppose I should work on that.
And there is no reason to degrade your characters so much, Ms. Kendi! They are definitely interesting!!))
|
|
|
Post by Kelila on Mar 1, 2010 14:02:16 GMT -6
"Certainly, Miss Cobblestone!" Liza answered Elena. "It is becoming quite stuffy in here, what with everyone milling around and releasing all that hot air with their chattering!" She grinned and turned in the direction of the main door. "Let us step out..."
Jonathan was still trying to decide what he should do about the mysterious gunman, when the door upon which he was leaning opened suddenly, sending him staggering backwards. "Wha-!" he began to shout, then turned and saw that it was the family friend with whom he had spoken earlier. "Oh, thank heavens, it's you, Adam." He rubbed a shaking hand across his forehead, wiping away beads of cold sweat.
"Yes..." Adam answered suspiciously. "What on earth-"
Jonathan slammed the door shut behind him, so that the two were once again alone in the same dimly-lit hallway. "Listen. Adam. There may be a problem."
Adam raised an eyebrow and stared at the younger man. "... and that would be?"
Giving a quavering sigh, Jonathan began to explain, his words rushing out in fast succession. "I was about to exit when a man named Tinker sent a message in Morse code to someone in the room telling them to kill three people, and then I spotted a man with a gun up on the next level and he seemed to be looking for--"
"Wait, wait, wait." Adam held up his hands, stopping Jonathan mid-breath. "'Kill three people'? Are you sure?"
"As sure as anything." He gulped.
"Then there's a killer on the loose?"
"Maybe more than one. I don't know. I only saw the man looking over the banister--"
"Then we have a serious problem."
"Yes, I know. That's what I said before."
"We have to do something. Call the police."
"I'm sure that would only create more chaos."
"Has anyone been shot?"
Jonathan gave another sigh. "Thankfully, not yet."
Adam stopped to tap his chin thoughtfully. The air was tense in the hallway as both men pondered the precarious situation. "Perhaps... perhaps we should just let the wind blow as it wishes, if I may be so bold as to use the expression?" He glanced down at Jonathan out of the corner of his eye.
Jonathan rubbed his forehead with the palm of his head, trying to process his thoughts as fast as he possibly could without hurting himself mentally. "I... suppose. There's really nothing we can do." He looked up in shock as he heard the sharp click of a gun.
Adam was standing there, his eyes glinting, a small pistol gripped in his hand. He brandished the weapon as he spoke. "I'll tell you what we do. If worse comes to worse, we fight back. And you, Mister Norrisson: you shall come with me." He grinned, and in the dimness it was hard to tell if it was of malintent or just excitement.
"But-but!" Jonathan stammered. "Come with you...! For what?! Where are we going?!?!" The color drained from his face as Adam grabbed his arm and began dragging him along the carpeted hallway, passing portraits of his grandfather and other benefactors of the city. He struggled slightly, but soon realized his tiny strength was no match for the much larger and more powerful man.
Adam chuckled deeply and glanced down at his captive friend. "To find that treasure of course, Jonathan." He set his determined gaze straight ahead. "We shall get you what you deserve."
|
|
|
Post by ptsluvsnfl on Mar 6, 2010 3:49:13 GMT -6
((dun dun duuun! How exciting!))
|
|