1879: The Expendables

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Re: 1879: The Expendables

Post by ChrisDDickey » Tue Jan 14, 2020 9:00 pm

Journal of Lord Bentley Bootle. 

I have been keeping myself very busy. I have been spending a lot of time at Uncle Berties. I learned a great deal during my South American safari, and he has been helping me put it into perspective and learning new skills. 

Mother is very keen on my attending the upcoming ball, and has been drilling me in Etiquette unmercifully. 

Erika Withakay dropped by unexpectedly tonight. It seems that she has been asked to attend the ball by Lord Marcus Areliums Sters, Head of the Cartography Guild, and on the board of the Royal Geographic Society. In addition he is very involved in politics, especially as it relates to magic. His wife died a few years ago, and Mother was very keen to learn that he was finally courting again. Anyway, Erika was apparently a bit taken aback to be asked to such a prestigious event by such a distinguished older gentleman. She mentioned something about Lord Sters encouraging people with special magical talents to go out more, be seen, make friends, and in general act normal and not like a weird and frightening people who are not the sort of people one knows. She wanted a few tips about what she could expect at such a high society event.  

We discussed tactics of blending in and standing out at a ball, and Mother and I taught her some some of the more current dances. I passed on a few of the Etiquette tips that Mother has been teaching me. 

(Note: Bentley does not write what Erika said about somebody attempting to spy on the party in his journal)

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Re: 1879: The Expendables

Post by LexiLiegh » Thu Jan 16, 2020 3:48 am

Effie sent a sealed note back to Lord Marcus Aurulies Sters today. It was quite nerve wracking bringing this to him, and I've faced down such monsters like Mummies, Arocknids, and worse of all societal rules like having to wear clothes! Oh Gods, I hope that I am not in trouble. Who else am I going to learn these important skills from?

It turns out that it was just politics, and Lord Sters wants me to attend him at this hoity toity ball thing. Something about showing that talented people are not dangerous, and maybe keeping an eye on this Lord of the [s]Pervy[/s]Privy council. It's really a lot of tedious politics. I sorely wish someone else could deal with this part.

Oh but this is charted territory, who do I know that can help me navigate it? Lord Bently! Yes, it shouldn't be so late to call on him. I mean we spent many nights together already right? I am most certain he will be able to help me, even if he can be long winded and focused on the entirely wrong things in life.

His map room is full of mounted animals, but the two maps he has of Africa and Asia are gorgeous. The globe is little more than a show piece. Really, who would believe France is that big? How is this a proper map room? He only has two maps in it!

But he, and mostly his Mother gave me wonderful tips on how to navigate this marsh of Nobility. Most notably leave the poets while they are talking, they are used to it. I wonder which other groups it is considered polite to leave mid conversation with?

I wonder how Rachel Roth is doing? I should stop by that park and feed her some more on the way back. Oh Gods, Bently is so persistent in trying to get me a carriage or an escort, or to escort me himself. How do I tell him that I want to stop by the park and feed Rachel Roth and her murder? They are beautiful ravens, and they have brought me shinies! I know, I am going to see if I can wear some of the shinies to the ball! I am sure it will be alright!

[note, this is just going through Erica's head, not being written down.]
Minion of GMAndi

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Re: 1879: The Expendables

Post by ChrisDDickey » Tue Jan 21, 2020 8:20 pm

From the Journal of Bentley Bootle. 

I went to the gala at Aspley house. Hosted by Captain Lord Charles William Brudinel Bruce and Lady Augusta Bruce, and their lovely daughter Lady Julia. Aspley house is impressive, as is appropriate for the London residence of the Vice Chancellor of the house of lords and a member of the Privy council. After paying my compliments to the Host and Hostess, I had a nice chat with Jady Julia. I quickly discovered that she was less than enthused by my stories of hunting and trophies taken, but she seemed very interested in photography. 

I, of course, knew that Erika Withakay was going to be there, and indeed she eventually showed up escorted by Lord Marcus Areliums Sters, but I was very surprised to see Private Smyth there dressed in the household livery and serving drinks. He was deadpan and did not indicate he knew me, even when I went over and took some drinks from his tray and quietly acknowledged him. I had barely recovered from my surprise at seeing Smyth, when Dr McFly came in! He is the last person in the world I would expect at a social event such as this. He was escorting a lady who was referred to as Professor someone or another (she was not introduced to me and I did not catch the name)

Notes not mentioned in journal. 
Erika had said, "Might be someone out of place". 
Smyth overheard Lady Augusta, "Paperwork...  make sure desk is locked, keep an eye on."
Withdrawing, then banquette 9 to 18 course meal, then drawing rooms, then ball. 

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Re: 1879: The Expendables - McFly's Journal

Post by Psitanium » Wed Jan 22, 2020 11:16 pm

Spell lady has been haunting The Danger Zone this past week as she works on something chemistry related. I had a bad experience with chemistry once, so I have a healthy distrust of flasks. Naturally, I told her she could utilize as many glass vessels as she could scrounge from my scrap pile. It was nice knowing her.
Her continued presence reminded me to fulfill a promise I had made in the jungle, likely while I was delirious from an unnamed tropical disease. Those leather bracers I fashioned must be upgraded with shield technology. After the better part of the week, I would call the results a rousing success. She seemed grateful and compensated me for the expense, before I could even hand her the invoice. That awkward conversation had been mercifully avoided.

And thus, it had come to this. A night of socialization that could only end in disaster. I reluctantly poured myself into the suit Professor Tyrell had picked and awaited her carriage’s arrival. When it appeared, she stepped out in a dress not suitable for archeological digs. I remarked how troubling this must be for her. She replied by handing me a top hat so we could look stupid together.
Then an idea. I had thought to pack my Electric Bugaboo at the base of my spine, albeit uncomfortable when I leaned back in the carriage. But it would fit perfectly in the underside of my new top hat. She insisted this was a very bad idea and I should leave the grenade in the carriage. Some troubling questions followed, relating to the sensitivity of the trigger mechanism. Unfortunately I never got the chance to test it, so it might just go off at the slightest touch. A premature explosion would be embarrassing for all involved. I swear such things have never happened to me before. It’s just that no one felt comfortable touching it.
I almost found willing volunteers the other day. A couple ladies on the street asked me if there was anything they could do to make me feel better. I told them I had an item in my pants that was ready to explode if they could activate it for me. I admitted it was an odd shape and the trigger leaned to the left, but I swore the results would be stunning. Apparently, they had heard that line from other gentlemen and were left thoroughly unimpressed. I am concerned there are so many others working on a similar device and must make haste to patent the Bugaboo. The demand appears quite high. By the exorbitant prices they quoted just to test such a thing, I could only imagine what the market would be. Of course, the expense was also a deal-breaker, so I was left playing with it myself. Inevitably, I just ended up fiddling with the trigger for an unnaturally long time while muttering “be a man, be a man” under my breath, while Goose, Maverick and Iceman looked on in wordless encouragement. They suggested I seek professional help, but provided no further context for the statement.

Once we entered the manor, with a notable lack of stun grenades, a man at the front insisted on taking my coat and hat. I tried to ask Rachel why she even bothered to give me a hat if they were just going to take it when I walked through the door, but she was already engaged in small talk. I chose to play the strong, silent type for the evening, well outside my wheelhouse.
A troll holding a tray of drinks wandered through the crowd and I gladly jumped at the opportunity to acquire free alcohol. You know, I’ve met all but two trolls in the past year and I swear they could have been identical twins. Granted, this one was far more attractive, but an uncanny resemblance nonetheless. What a delightful anecdote I will have for the trolldier next time I see him. Can you imagine him as a fancy boy? Oh, such a hilarious notion!

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