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The halls seemed to haunt Guinevere as she made her way out of the house, trying to find the door in the dark, foreboding corridors. The smell of grass washed the odor of blood from her nostrils once Gwen reached the front lawn. A heavy sigh, and a quickened pace accompanied the newfound freedom from the oppressive home. As she made her way into the moonlight, she looked up a t the stars, without the light from the city blinding her periphery, she could see the stars nearly perfectly; clarity blessed her mind for a brief moment. She cursed herself for her less than professional attitude with the sight of the dead body, and she contemplated returning to the group and apologizing for her reaction, but she would only curse herself more in that instance.

Guinevere stared at the home, as she backed away, the only thought left plaguing her mind was how her family would react to her leaving the city, risk her life with a rag-tag team of misfits, lead by a teenager, only to find a lost city, and drink a possibly poisonous nectar for a chance to live forever. Her mind’s jaded interpretation made her stomach uneasy. With a hard swallow, she resigned herself to making her way from the house, and find her way to the safety, or relative safety of her family home.

Another hard swallow accompanied that thought, in her family, she was small. With a father nearly a foot taller than her, and a mother only a few inches behind that, her siblings were understandably massive. Height was a noticeable factor in her family, and everyone seemed to find equally tall mates, to produce another generation of giants, although the one instance among her mother’s generation that lead to a semi-normal sized child was dues to a small defect that left the child smaller than even an average person, let alone an O’Dwyer. Her fears of her family’s reaction were notably understandable, especially considering her lack of ability to fight, which was only compounded by her inability to gauge her mother’s anger. Her father she knew all too well, he would resist, but give in as soon as her mother acquiesced, making the only threat her mother.

By the time Guinevere had made her way to her family home, she would have imbibed enough alcohol to down a large horse, so she doubted her family would scare her much then, although she would definitely burn a bridge or two before sobering up in the morning. With the prospect of alcohol, and an eternity to drink it, she turned her attention to the steep hill she now had to descend, with her massive girth, it would be no easy task to make it down with no momentum. She sighed, and made her way for the gate of the expansive estate.

Billie thought it might be rude to ride her veloci-trike while everyone else was forced to trudge up the steep hill, so she pushed the heavy thing all the way. Thankfully, the young man who had spoken to her seemed quite agreeable and helped along the way. She chattered away as they walked, probably talking completely over his head as she explained the marvels of her vehicle. When the group topped the hill , she recognized the street address of the house from all the telegrams she’d sent to Professor Greychilde previously. But, the open front door and Lavistian’s sudden bounding entrance and subsequent discovery of a very deceased Professor rattled Billie. Not so much the sight of a dead body, but that her grand dreams to work with the Professor all appeared to vanish instantly.

The gunslinger from the Inn sensibly drew his pistols with gratifying speed. No one seemed surprised that the Professor should be dead but her and she wasn’t sure why that was. The very tall woman seemed slightly upset and beat a hasty exit after Lavistian told his impossible tale of looking for the Lost City. She discounted such foolishness immediately. Obviously, the Professor would only have been involved as a cover for some experiments he was working on. Perhaps, she might be of some use after all.

Tiptoeing around the body carefully, Billie half-listened to the others discussing what they should do. She could only agree with the gunslinger that a retreat would be in order. However, perhaps there were some clues among the Professors papers and notes. She examined his desk particularly and after tapping and prodding here and there, she smiled, “Oh honestly! Of course.” With a few deft twists and pulls, a hidden drawer beneath the knee-well of the massive desk popped open and several leather wrapped packets were revealed. Billie retrieved them and stuffed them into the pockets of her voluminous trousers to examine later.

She straightened and canted her head, “I think we should go before the City Guard appear, don’t you?” She addressed the group as she began to exit the room.

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"I don't get into trouble. I have adventures!"

RPs I'm in:
Hazard - Jinx
Searching for the New Horizon - T'ra

One hour later, at the Mihael Aerodrome...

Lavistian sat by the steps of the Mihael Aerodrome, not more than twenty feet away from a large group of Parliamentary Guards, waiting for his newly-founded party to arrive. He juggled his batons idly behind a large statue, shining brass catching the warm glow of the street lamps, a long dead founder of the city. He reflected upon what he had seen that night, and decided he should head to his last sanctuary, the only place he could think and feel safe. The Hollow Wind.

Lavistian lay on the deck, next to large piled sandbags and the great iron anchor of the airship, his hands running along the smooth hardwood planks that now supported his head. Their ship, the only thing that still connected them. Lavistian and the Professor had purchased it together, so that they could roam Terra, searching, exploring, living.

"Vincent," Lavistian softly whispered to himself, his voice light and clear, all roughness gone from it. "Vincent, my friend, why have you left me alone like this? We were supposed to find Mir'Illen together, find the Nectar of Life, make everything better." Lavistian pawed at his arm wrappings, letting the deep ocean-like colors of his tattoo lay in the moonlight that filtered down from the glass skylight above. The light of the moons seemed to glow against the dark colors of the ink, and it seemed to waver and shift.

A sound snapped Lavistian back into the real world. Footsteps approached the Hollow Wind, whose, he did not know, but he readied his batons and pressed against the side of the sandbags, as if willing his body to disappear.

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With the soft hum of the engine dying, Guinevere stepped from the large small carriage her eldest brother had driven, escorting her to the airship the man had specified. Gwen brushed wrinkles from her newly worn ensemble, a somewhat more complicated outfit than her simple dress and jacket. A long, light blue robe, reaching just below her knees, and thin flats adorning her feet, long sleeves billowed out at the wrists, revealing white, fingerless gloves, and A cape reaching the floor, with a large, loose hood. “Here it is, Leo.” she motioned to the airship. A man, easily a half foot taller than her stepped forward.

“This is it? How’s it supposed to hold my little sister?” He joked.

“I will syringe you in the eye.” She threatened with a sadistic smile, normally he would pass it off as a joke, but two of her syringes were missing, and there was a man shouting about a large woman jabbing him with needles on the ride over.

“Ha!” He laughed heartily, “Without me, you could never get all your booze on this ship!” He looked back, a large wagon was pulled behind the steam powered carriage.

“Yeah, and I would never be able to find a guy or two to get the job done. You’ve obviously over estimated the willpower of men when breasts are added to the equation.” She laughed, the same harsh, musical laugh from the bar.

“Breasts, or booze?” He let out a monstrous laugh as he made his way back to the wagon. He lifted a large crate marked ‘VODKA’ in deep, red letters. Guinevere herself had bigger fish to fry than her large collection of booze, most donated by her family. She made her way to the wagon, and removed a suitcase marked with the same deep red letters, this one reading, ‘CLOTHES.’ She smiled, and grabbed the large suitcase, while large, she wasn’t particularly strong, most of her girth was due to carrying her weight around for the better part of two decades.

“Does it matter, I have an excess of both.” She hefted the suitcase onto the ship, all the while her brother finished the next two crates, both marked with the same deep red letters, reading ‘SCOTCH’ and ‘MISC.’ After looking around for a moment, she realized that Lavistian was no where to be found. “Odd.” She commented, before setting her suitcase down.

Billie has arrived at the berth for the Hollow Wind not far behind Lavistian. Since she hadn’t actually taken a room yet, she had nothing to pack up. She spent the better part of half an hour convincing some longshoremen to haul her tri-locipeed aboard and stow it in the cargo hold. That done, she boarded herself. She inquired a deck hand where she might locate Lavistian on the good-sized airship. It wasn’t as large as the airship she grew up on, but then, that had been a passenger liner. She was dying to rummage about in the engine room and to look at the secreted packets she’d found in the Professor’s desk, but she thought perhaps Lavistian should have the first look himself. She finally found Lavisitian laying on his back and staring at the stars above him. She hesitated momentarily, not sure if she was intruding on the young man’s grief or not. It was rather an awkward situation they found themselves in.

She approached hesitantly, “Um…I’m sorry about your frien…I mean…the Professor.” She smiled, stammered and then focused on something she knew something about. “This is a lovely airship. Beautifully made. I bet you can get 40 knots easy! I wonder if you can tell me about the engines?” She snapped her mouth shut, realizing too late that she’d gotten off on a tangent. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “I’m sorry.”

__________________
"I don't get into trouble. I have adventures!"

RPs I'm in:
Hazard - Jinx
Searching for the New Horizon - T'ra

Lavistian sat up quickly when he heard the voice of the mechanic-looking woman from the bar, trying to cover his arms, lest someone see them glowing in the moonlight. His hands now in his pockets, and the long sleeves of his jacket unrolled, Lavistian stood up with a fluid hop.

"No matter, it doesn't make a difference," said Lavistian in feigned indifference. "The engines, eh? Truth be told, I never really knew what made the damnable thing fly. Y'see, when I crank the lever to get this puppy started, you won't hear more than a faint hum. Professor says something about some kind of fission, but I haven't the foggiest idea of what that means. He boxed it all off, sealed in lead and steel, said something about never opening the door, it's full of radiotron or something."

Lavistian began to zone out in speech as he rambled on about the systems that powered the Hollow Wind, staring off into the distance, watching as a group of Parliamentary Guards, dressed in bright orange, converged on the gangplank of the airship that served as his home.

"Oh, turnips," said Lavistian, clearly displeased. "The ruttin' Copperbacks are here. And, I doubt we will be walking away from this one without a fight."

(REPORT TO THE OOC BEFORE POSTING)

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Gwen stared at the robotic contraptions, apparently everyone was just as surprised to see these creatures as she was. Everyone stood perfectly still, at least most everyone. Lavistian proved to be either very courageous, or else overwhelmed with grief, as he launched the first attack. Well, Gwen wouldn’t call it an attack, but he did something, and that was more than anyone else was doing at that point. Gwen, as well as a few others took his cue, and attacked.

Gwen launched a single dagger, which found a home within the chest of the nearest rifleman. “YES!” She exclaimed. She was very proud of herself, she usually had pretty poor aim. As if by sheer force of her will, the mechanical rifleman took a step back, staring at the hilt of the dagger protruding from his chest. keep going. she silently wished. And with that, the creature took another step back, but with nothing to step on, save for the seemingly endless chasm that laid beneath the ship, it fell overboard. “That’s how we do it!” Guinevere jumped slightly, but her celebration seemed to be premature. She turned to see Lavistian get hit with a bullet from the remaining rifleman.


With a shallow gasp, Gwen charged across the ship, leaned over Lavistian, examining his wound. “No problem!” She sounded way too confident, which proved to be the case when she was unable to calm herself enough to bandage it properly. It ended up looking like a bleeding biscuit, the wrapping bunched, and bent in unusual manners. “Um, I can fix this.” Her confidence hadn’t left, but had certainly waned a bit. Gwen turned to see the actions of the robots, expecting to see another bullet flying her way, instead, they were running, in the opposite direction.