Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by TwilightShadow
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TwilightShadow The Not-So-Great-At-Titles

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Visia listened intently to what Captain Kingsford told everyone. This information was delicate and important. Visia made sure to memorize every single word spoken. She knew there could possibly be dangerous repercussions is she forgot anything. Visia felt a rush of excitement when Kingsford spoke of Mr. Bennet and Mr. Overton's work on mechanical wings (though she kept it to herself, as she kept an intense expression). Her excitement increased when she heard about the special wings Overton was working on before he died.

The Airborn Peacekeeping Force would certainly put them to some good use. Visia thought.

At the end of Kingsford's long speech, Lady Imperia-Airwight asked everyone to come up with an alias. Visia was going to use "Golden Wings" but felt that using that as an alias would give her identity away too easily. All members of the Airborn Peacekeeping Force wear a pin that is just that: Golden wings.

What else could my alias be? Visia said to herself as she continued to think long and hard about this. It turned into more of an arduous task for Vis than it needed to be. She knew it had to be related to flying. That's the only way Vis would even remember it.
Yet somehow she just couldn't come up with a name. Visia went through the many different aspects of flying that she loved, trying to decide upon an alias. It overwhelmed the woman, as she couldn't seem to choose just one. Whenever she thought she had the perfect alias, she either thought of something better or it turned out to be another name that would make it too obvious who it belonged to. Visia sighed in frustration. She felt like she wouldn't be able to come up with anything for herself. Then, something in her brain clicked.

Gears... I fix wings and other air machinery when I'm not in the sky. And those gears...
they're bronze. Bronze Gears.


After the man who has given himself the alias of "aubergine handkerchief" sat back down after telling the Captain, Visia followed suit.
"You have my support as well. I pray to the Divine that all your bronze gears stay in working order."

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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Mr Rage
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The night had continued on, peacefully, after the vocal altercation between Elizabeth and the Dame. A few more people had entered as the night progressed and nobody left for long, but eventually Chester noticed the host close the damaged door and gave it a good shaking to test it. He reached over and tapped his wife on the arm gently to alert her, "I suspect we are about to begin."

She looked up from the intricately carved decoration on the nearby shelf, "I would hope so, it seems as though there are plenty of us here... I wonder what it is that they need us for."

The answer to that question came soon enough in the form of a bit of a speech... kind of. The answer as to why them wasn't too clear. They could both envision why Chester might have been needed, being a scholar he was a genius, however this was outside of his usual wheelhouse. Elizabeth, however, didn't see much reasoning for her to be there, but if the Council said that this was an issue facing the safety of Hourglass City and there was a way for them to help, then they most certainly would. Besides, the recent modifications that had been revealed for the Mechanical wings was introduced by the people of interest in this case, and Elizabeth and Chester had admired the work that Mr. Overton had published, his designs were often inspiration and launch point for their own designs for their projects. It was the least they could to bring his killer to justice.

Chester's brain was already starting to draw up hypotheticals. One that caused him to raise a brow in speculation was that Mr. Overton's body may in fact be dead, but that his mind may live on, if nothing else, in the form of a mechanical bird. But, with the limited knowledge that he had on the actual... harvest process Chester had no idea if this was even possible.

When it came time for code names, when the opportunity presented itself Chester spoke, "I'll propose Velvet Pendant for myself."
Elizabeth spoke up immediately afterward, "And Quicksilver Glove for myself."
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by RavensMuse
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RavensMuse Girl with the Infinity Gauntlet.

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Reeza's focus had been drawn to the Captain and the reason they'd be calling the little dollmaker out of her shop. Dealing with Automaton's was in her talents. Lorelei alone had been the attention of several of her companions, and the core system she'd developed allowed Lorelei to stand larger machines with little damage to herself.

Yet, they wanted her to become involved in this? Why? She was not nearly as talented in fieldwork as several others here. They were spies, adventurers, she was a dollmaker. Lorelei was designed so she'd never be a victim again, not to do battle against some myalo infused machines. They'd potentially smash Lorelei to pieces with little hesitation. Reeza felt her pulse quicken, she couldn't lose Lorelei. No, she'd be alone, then all alone...no, she couldn't be alone again.

As the thoughts began to crash against Reeza's psyche, she took two steps away from the others. Lorelei looked behind her, noting her mistress seemed to be walking away. A curious tilt of her head made Reeza not what Lorelei was gesturing to.

Arsenio

He was going to be going up against individuals without the same compassion she did for the little one. Some people in this room may not feel the same love for him as Reeza and his father did. He needed someone in case something happened, no he deserved someone to be there for him. Lorelei relaxed as she continued to watch the Captain. She felt something inside her calm, like the center of a whirlwind. Destruction loomed all around, but she'd stand against this storm.

Her voice was softer than most others in the room. Yet much like the velvet doll beside her, something much stronger held her together.

"Bronze goggles," Reeza said softly. "I will aid, but I will not harm any Myalo being that will not bring harm to me."

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Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Briza
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Briza

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L o r d F i n n e g a n O a k ๐“ผ


โ€œWill you give me the pleasure of dancing with you?โ€

With his right hand on Evelynโ€™s waist and the small of her back, Finnegan could feel the docile folds of her posture as they waltzed around the dance floor. Her right hand was loosely placed on his shoulder, which would cause for some alarm in Finnegan if it had been any other woman in at party aside from Lady Alyssana. Evelyn was nothing of worriment in this manner, and even if she was, his unfortunate calculation was at least something in the inadequately dressed ballroom. Her erectness had eased from the First Waltz, and he found maneuvering her more innocently than prior to entering the library. For this reason, he could not complain.

The follies of dancing in and of itself, but having only danced with the poor girl a couple times, now, Finnegan could assume much about her personality. Her dance etiquette was not as polished as he would have liked, but her simplicity was modest enough to ensure that she would not be partnerless, given that the gentlemen at this party were anything less than genteel in their mannerisms. He had already spotted several guests with limited taste for following the standards of high-class society, and he meant this far beyond the shallow visage of naive pink painted hair. Finnegan was above making any mention and preferred to keep the commentary crushed, underfoot on the unkept tiles that layered the ballroom.

However much more was to be said about the dance will be swept into the corners of the room or pushed under the carpet that lay somewhere whose whereabouts are yet to be revealed. The couple danced not just with themselves but in some flow of events found themselves together, once more, and in the last of the courtesies that were offered between the Lord and his ill-advised guest, they were interrupted -- and for a good reason, no less.

โ€œMademoiselle,โ€ Finnegan, paused his dance with Evelyn as the music determined the change of venue in style, pace, and altogether, subject as they were lead back to the library. A smile brightened his lips as he looked down at her. She was flushed in the face but altogether pale as if a strange mesmerism had overcome her. Her body gently tapped fingers against his forearm for better understanding of the sensation. Her lips parted, making a small peep. However, she was interrupted in the most honest manner necessary and shushed by a servant requesting their presence in the library.

And upon making it to the library, complete with a small, light conversation that was in jest about the previous comments on the door, there in the ornately decorated room, several announcements were made, in which went well-beyond Evelynโ€™s current condition. It appeared Finneganโ€™s misfortune had turned into something quite in-genius, โ€œOf course,โ€ he let out a sigh, feeling the genuine pomp of his own pride carry his boredom through the speech. He would have much rather been somewhere else...

...Although, he ought to pay a better mind. There was more reason than just the fact of an invitation having summoned him to the court as some guard dog on a leash, which he found to be degrading. (He could make an argument for others to be of such a nature due to their inability to properly apply a decent cologne or soap.) Finnegan, no less, liked to think he was more than just that, especially with with the personalized dog tag names, โ€œThis probably all means so very little to you, my dear Evelyn?โ€ his eyes scanned her weary cheeks and the shadows that cast over the young womanโ€™s faint eyes. He could cup one of them in his palm; and like a thief, he could sneak a kiss upon her forehead, right beneath the gentle curls that wisped from her fashion; but he thought better of himself than to resort to in such a rested position that all too many of the guests already understood about him.

โ€œNo, no. I am quite interested,โ€ she feigned, and he thought to let her take a seat, instead of cling to him as a broken mechanical doll would. She was such a piece of work prior to this engagement, and he was not sure if he was saddened by her having been made of no use so quickly. And so, he did not bestow anything of the sort with affection upon her.

Instead, the man glanced around in his waist coat, trying to find himself in line with Lady Alyssana and her magnificent metal wings. His blue eyes combed through the room and all its shelves, while he mindlessly displayed an air of authoritative apathy, and before he found his subject, his action was interrupted by his most recently hired employee, his brother, Walter. His eyes drew back to his guest, and her silk, springtime garment. At first, he thought his next guest should wear something embroidered, and his next thought was of having to choose different names for both he and unfortunately, his brother. He was far less interested in basking a secret honor that likened him to dog scraps and felt such contemplation lean him towards the inevitable aesthetic that parted the human from the animal, โ€œIvory Wingtip and...โ€ He paused for his own identity, โ€œSilk Cavat,โ€ he said gently, under his breath with pleasure, โ€œYesโ€ฆ No,โ€ he changed his mind, feeling the fickleness of his own indecision and then decided to remain firm in his initial choices.

โ€œPardon?โ€ Evelyn asked. Her eyes were looking intently upon him, begging to know what he had just said in hopes that it was for her.

And he rested her assuredly with another smile, even perhaps, batting his dark, blonde lashes. โ€œWe shall find you a seat,โ€ he corrected her and began guiding her towards the cushioned chairs that enjoyed their whereabouts amongst the shelves and studies of the room. Her gloved hand still rested quite comfortably, upon the white of his suit as she leaned upon his strength and knowledge.

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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Stern Algorithm
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Stern Algorithm Loquacious Aggression

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A R S E N I O





Arsenio did not know either of the Institute alumni mentioned, but paid extra focus on the words 'automatons' and 'myalo'. He somehow knew that it would come to this, noting the irony of an automaton like himself having something that could only be called 'intuition'. He wondered at the possibility of just extricating himself, since the option was on the table, but he did recognize that his continued existence hinged on the mercy and whim of the Ministers. Better that he prove himself of benefit to them now than to have them question why they even keep him around at all. Perhaps, if the job was extremely successful, he could earn his continued existence and be freed of all future obligations to the city. An automaton could only dream, though Arsenio again noted the irony of an automaton dreaming.

Stepping forth, Arsenio declared himself, "Cinnamon Lace!" his higher-pitched, child's voice cutting through the room. His eyes darted around quickly in an attempt to note the faces of those who might be confused why a child was in such an operation. This would reveal to him who was aware of his true nature. Taking a bow, Arsenio stepped back, plopped himself back on the chair, and resumed reading the fantasy novel that Mr. Amidale had suggested to him.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by shylarah
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Lady Alyssana Grey


Nothing is illegal unless you are caught. That was practically the motto of the Institute, an attitude that put Alyssana at odds with them far too often. Not that she wouldn't skirt rules when needed, but flouting of the law merely for the sake of doing so irritated her.

Lucius's name made her blink in surprise. He'd been different since Victor's death, certainly, but so egregious a violation was out of character for him. Then again...he'd changed so much from his former self that Alyssana supposed she really couldn't judge what he might or mightn't do. Might I have prevented this, if I had been a better friend? she wondered, before brushing the thought aside. There was no changing what had been done, only dealing with the results.

She'd heard about Mr. Overton's murder. The news of his ransacked lab bothered her more than she cared to admit, and while Chris had little interest in wing crafting or anything else the man had requested his assistance on, she'd worried the culprit might come after her brother all the same. Her own wings shifted subtly, the feathers turning sharp edges outward despite her best efforts to keep them smoothed down.

Alysanna listened quietly as people spoke up, giving code names and acknowledgements. She waited for a lull before taking a step forward, letting the motion draw the attention of the group. "I was a friend of Mr. Elliot, though we've drifted apart in the time since Mr. Bennet's death. Perhaps I didn't know him as well as I thought, but this is not something I would ever expect from him. Yet I must assume thorough investigation has been conducted, and that he is indeed guilty of the experimentation for which he stands accused." She hesitated. "Let me add something to the Captain's briefing. Myalo research and experimentation is outlawed because it requires the death of the power source, generally with a great deal of suffering involved. There is no humane way to extract it, and even if there were, the added efficiency generated by said torment would not let it be used exclusively for very long. We must assume that any other perpetrators place a low value on human life, and are thus highly dangerous, moreso than is indicated by a single murder." She looked in Adrianna's direction and lifted her chin. "Captain, you have whatever information or assistance I can provide at your disposal." Alyssana swept the room with an assessing glance, her gaze lingering on Evelyn, who looked like the conversation was entirely beyond her. "For the rest of you...if you don't know me already, you may address correspondence to 'Raven Spyglass', or simply 'Raven Glass'. I will do my best to help."
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by bloonewb
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bloonewb Primordial and also soupy

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As the two women gave their speech, Elodie glanced at each of the other guests. An uneasy wind ran across the room then, or perhaps it were just her own overactive nerves. Perhaps Ladies Rowena and Adrianna trusted the crowd well enough, but Elodie was not so easy to sway. Perhaps it were her. Elodie dismissed the thought as soon as she thought it. She was not paranoid!

It mattered not, now thinking about it. Who else would be at an event such as this, if not fellow plotters? Already, they are shouting their monikers at the tops of their lungs, as if not realizing the walls themselves are full of listening ears and treasonous minds. Dearest divine god in the earth, they were going to be captured and killed before the Triarchy could wipe the sweat from their faces.

Secrets, too many secrets. Everything that came out of anyone's mouth should never leave the room. As her eyes darted to the faces of the guests again, she found such a dream unlikely. The simple numbers alone made spying near impossible, and if she remembered Bird with any certainty whatsoever, that woman is sure to take any instructions she receives, toss them out the window, and inevitably ruin things for both her teammates and her acting superiors. Elodie sighed, clutching a hand to her head. The logistics were a horrific thing, dancing about her head and making it spin on its toes.

"You will know my missive when I give it, I should hope," Elodie said, quietly, approaching the two and whispering as they closed their speech. "It will be I, should I mark the endings of every other sentence with a blot, as if my hand were not steady in writing. I shall sign them in an utter nonsense of false names and foreign runes, and shall do so if it pleases milady. Else, tell me how I might address myself in my letters, and I shall have it done as you wish."
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Mr Rage
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Mr Brown


A Job is a job is a job. Sometimes they pay better than others, sometimes they are more legitimate than others, as one might say. Sometimes the jobs are dull, and sometimes, just some times, the Jobs lead to something more interesting. The was how Mr Brown came by his invitation, whilst investigating for another job he caught wind of a certain gathering at a certain place where interested parties should meet in a certain library. A masquerade, even, how perfect for him. Mr Brown would have no idea that he was to be summoned to the event, and nobody would know that he wasn't him.

How perfect indeed.


The day of the event Mr Brown received and urgent missive that would keep him otherwise occupied chasing false leads allowing for our Mr Brown to easily make his way to the birthday ball. As he turned the final corner before the mansion he slipped on his plain checkerboard mask, obscuring his face, his trusty hat, freshly cleaned for the event, remained atop his head, keeping his shoulder length hair in check. He held up the invite and nodded at the doorman, who barely gave him a glance. He made his way into the party hall unannounced and silently, confidently made his way through the bored and dull hall. He knew of the host, of course. It wasn't the first time he had made his way into the halls of Supreme Commander. The girl, too, he knew of, but had little no no interest in. Wasn't worth looking at her, anyway. He made no attempt at sliding up to make his acquaintances or give his thanks for the invitation or his congratulations for surviving yet another year in such wealth and prosperity. Such things were so hollow in the first place, coming from his mouth the words would taste like ash and smell like vinegar.

To the library then.


He made his way to the entrance of the Library, unsure of what to expect he began focusing on his gift, "Don't Notice Me" he broadcast in a general suggestion to anyone near by as he slid his way through the door. Indeed the room was impressive, even to someone who wasn't impressed by the demonstrations of wealth. The woman at the door didn't seem to notice him enter, all the same he held up the invite as if to show her, paused momentarily as if they traded niceties and then he continued into the room were he must have been amongst the last to arrive, there was already quiet the crowd gathered here.

Now all he had to do was wait for the information and make his way back out the door and find a bidder for whatever secretes he would be able to plunder.

As Mr Brown listened to the information being presented he could tell that there was something to the story, but he didn't have anything that he could sell, not yet at least. All he knew at this point was what they didn't know.

Going to have to stick it out a bit longer to get anything worth the effort... damn.


The others started giving out names. Too many to remember. If he got a note from someone with clothing and food in the name he knew it would be from the group. He released the suggestion, unsure of how much good it was doing, he stepped out from his slightly obscured vantage point, "Phantom Mask, as it were." He smirked under his mask at how literal the name could be for him.

As it were, Indeed...
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Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by ayzrules
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Lady Chandler was the first to give her response-Buttercream Pearl. She was followed by Alexander Amidale, who chose Aubergine Handkerchief. Visia, who had arrived slightly later than everyone else, chose Bronze Gear for herself. Adrianna mentally made note of all three, knowing that Rowena was doing the same.

Next were the Lockhearts; Chester with Velvet Pendant, and Elizabeth with Quicksilver Glove. Adrianna knew that Rowena was mentally rolling her eyes, so to speak, at the slightly incompatible nature of "velvet" with "pendant" and "quicksilver" with "glove". Adrianna personally thought that there were more important things to worry about.

Brass Goggles for Lady Valarios, Cinnamon Lace for Arsenio, Raven Spyglass for Professor Grey.

Finally, a man named Dameon Brown said he would go by Phantom Mask. Adrianna remained as impassive as ever when the man spoke, though her mind was whirling. Ah. Mr. Brown. There will be plenty of questions for him, I am sure, considering his involvement the smuggling industry, if one could truly call it an 'industry'. Rowena, at the very least, will be curious.

They still had not heard from Lord Oaks (who would also be speaking for his brother, presumably), Dr. Halverson, Penelope Van Luthen, Lord Derrington, or Helena Burton. Lady LaVerre had not chosen one at all, though Adrianna saw that Rowena was already taking care of the situation. "How is Gold Chatelaine, my dear?" she was asking, her voice a soft murmur.

Adrianna cleared her throat, and she waited until all eyes were on her before speaking. "Thank you, everyone," she began. "For those of you who still have not chosen, please do so before you leave tonight, and inform either me or Lady Imperia-Airwright. Your cooperation would be much appreciated."

"Now for the first matters to attend to. Other than the circumstances surrounding Mr. Overton's murder, I have a...source who has confirmed that there have been bodies turning up everywhere, even with Mr. Elliot in jail. The bodies are found with the skulls split open, which is part of the procedure for extracting Myalo, I believe." Adrianna paused, letting this all sink in. "The source, who will be henceforth known as Bread Pudding, may also have details on where the items taken from Mr. Overton's laboratory are. I am currently awaiting correspondence, but I shall notify you all if there is anything of import to report."

"In addition, Lady Imperia-Airwright and I have discovered three missing persons. The first, and most unusual, is Lieutenant Nathaniel Enright." Adrianna laid out a clipping from a newspaper published almost two years ago (which she had taken from a section of Phillip Osborne's library, coincidentally), right around when Victor Bennett passed away. The headline announced Lieutenant Enright's sudden disappearance, and was accompanied by a man in his forties with a windburnt face and dirty-blond hair, his blue eyes serious and his uniform indicated that he had been a part of the air-navy. "Lieutenant Enright was, by most accounts, a very dutiful man, and very dedicated to his job. His friends and fellow air-navymen have described him as loyal and reliable, if a bit gruff."

"The second is one Mr. John Jacob Smith, who graduated from the Polytechnique Institute as a Discourteous Genius, mainly due to his scatter-brained nature. He was reported to have been experimenting with building automaton parts on his own, and he was reported as missing about one year ago."

"The last two, Miss Philomena Shoreditch and Mr. Sebastian Bay, were to be married last August. However, they were reported as missing last July." Adrianna laid out another set of portraits. "Miss Shoreditch owned a small shop that sold a wide variety of clockwork trinkets. Mr. Bay worked in the library in Ravensford, primarily as an archivist. He also specialized in translating documents written in ancient languages."

The portrait of Philomena showed a pale, almost doll-like woman, with dark strawberry-blonde hair and a whimsical look on her face. Her fiance, Sebastian, very much looked like the bespectacled scholar that he was.

Adrianna cleared her throat, slightly. "To be quite frank, we have no concrete evidence that connects these four individuals to Mr. Elliot. However, some of the prototypical plans of automaton parts that Mr. Smith drew up while he was still at school have been recovered, and I am in the process of obtaining the necessary permissions to inspect the confiscated automaton parts that Mr. Elliot built in person. I have also been told that Mr. Bay was well-versed in the languages of the Wasteland Cities, and that a woman who appeared to be Miss Shoreditch was seen outside a dressmaker's shop this past December."

Adrianna paused, letting her gaze flit around the room. "There are quite a few matters to address. Lady Imperia-Airwright and I have discussed it at length, and we believe that a division of tasks would be the most efficient way of confronting this problem."

"I would very much appreciate it if anybody familiar with members of the Craftsmen Guild could assist Lady Imperia-Airwright and Bread Pudding in investigating Miss Shoreditch. In addition, if anyone has information regarding the missing individuals, it would be very helpful. Lieutenant Enright is a member of the Legionnaire Guild-as I previously mentioned-and Mr. Bay a member of the Scholar Guild. Mr. Smith, as you may have inferred, is in the Scholar Guild as well, and was a student at the Polytechnique Institute."

"The Supreme Commander is of the opinion that determining what sort of procedure Mr. Elliot would have used to create automatons, as well as the materials necessary, would be helpful. I, for one, agree with this assessment, and I ask that anybody who is familiar with principles relating to automatons and Myalo to share what they know. I will also make Mr. Smith's notes and the materials we were able to salvage from Mr. Overton's laboratory available in the near future."

Adrianna glanced in Rowena's direction as she shifted slightly. "Yes, thank you very much, Captain Kingsford," she said smoothly, sharp brown eyes assessing the individuals gathered. "To add to what the honorable captain has already listed, it would be in our best interests to attempt to monitor the goods being smuggled into the city, especially from Brassham City, which is where many of the tools necessary to create automatons come from."

"And, finally, Bread Pudding has generously found someone to preserve the bodies that have been discovered. The captain and I would like to, mm, examine them more closely, and we would appreciate it if anybody who cared to join would let us know. We do apologize for the rather distasteful nature of such an investigation, but as we all know, such is a part of life."

And that was that. "Please, if anyone has questions, ask them now," said Adrianna. "Lady Imperia-Airwright and I will be setting dates later in April for all of us to convene once again. As I am sure you can tell, we would like to conduct this investigation with the utmost urgency."




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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by shylarah
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Lady Alyssana Grey


"Three high-profile and possibly relevant missing persons," Alyssana corrected softly in the wake of the Captain's briefing. "Naturally there are far more people that vanish with only their close companions to worry over their fate." The urchin gangs were losing members, and disappearances from similarly disadvantaged groups was not a new thing. "It is interesting that you're finding bodies with such obvious signs. Given the taboo status of such research, most people playing with myalo are more careful in their methods of disposal, to avoid attracting attention. Cremation is one method, or anything destroys the skeletal structure." Some of those missing turned up in an identifiable manner. Many never did. She'd yet to find a good basis for investigation, but Alyssana had long suspected that there were groups quietly operating in Hourglass City. "I know enough about automaton research to be useful in identifying required supplies, and some of the devices involved. Keep me posted on any old documents in need of translation, and the confiscated materials." She paused. "I would appreciate it if you'd ask about interviewing Mr. Elliot in prison. I personally have a number of questions for him." The glitter of eyes behind her mask was cold.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Briza
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L o r d F i n n e g a n O a k ๐“ผ


The news was unfortunate for a birthday party. No further explanation was needed to understand why the the honorable Corporal Olivia Osborne had looked so wilted upon greeting her guests. Finnegan had a hand leaning on the back of a richly upholstered chair with finished woodwork. Evelyn was resting in the chair in all her feverish disposition. There may have been an embarrassing undertone, and if Finnegan was feeling so compelled by the invitation of the news to remain in the vicinity, he would have left, not just for business' sake. However, Evelyn was lovely enough in her youthful glow to continue at least something cherished as a good decorative throw pillow for the chair. The evening was most certainly a long night, and as much as Finnegan was looking forward to the interesting parts, he was starting to expect this whole situation was going to be of a lot more than he expected.

โ€œAs usual,โ€ his finger tapped against the fabric of the chair, tracing lightly the silk embroidery, and then his hand retreated to his side and tucked into his pocket, to fiddle with something or another โ€” probably a trinket or gadget of his own mischievous devise. The gesture was also done with more precision than needed as he was only playing with a something that he would not be needing at this present moment in time, โ€œA surprise for all the guests!โ€ He said with a small smirk and looked down at dear Evelyn who seemed quite tired, โ€œYou poor thing, though,โ€ he coaxed her with more words, feigned with politeness and all the etiquette of a man who was intrigued in her well-being but also imploring an urgency of them staying for just a fair bit longer. All while, she tried to scramble in his own head, missed calculations of chemical formulas aside, the whereabouts of the missing persons.

โ€œIf he were willing, Walter would have had delight in some of this.โ€
Finnegan thought to himself during the prospective and hypothetical cases conjuring in his mind.


Such tragedy for Evelyn to have taken the fun from Walter. He should have known better, but Finnegan knew himself to not be perfect and let the incident slide, โ€œI must ask you to excuse me for just a moment,โ€ he patiently waited for Evelyn's response, which was nothing less than a bashful smile that resulted in a her pale face managing the innocent blush he admired far too often in the past week for it's charm to sway his self-restraint in any shape outside of formalities. With her respected acknowledgement, he left her for several measures to keep Evelyn from the spotlight and to add his own partaking in the matter, alongside Lady Alyssana.

With his chin raised and his usual air of gentlemanly debauchery, he raised his voice to announce his own question, โ€œRemind me again as to why it has taken so long for this news to be made to us? I must have missed that part. Forgive me,โ€ his own selfish wit played through of introspecting the answer. Although, he thought perhaps it was the appearance of the reported missing lady with the likeness of Miss Shoreditch, who was someone to strike anyone's fancy, even his own, but it was a little bit too boyish of a thought to use in something that seemed much more serious than a silly romantic mystery contrived on the stage in the theaters. Then again, maybe it was the timing of the whole ordeal. Finnegan could never be too sure in these matters. They were generally so disorganized that they were adjacent to ballrooms with lousy lighting, which he would never have found himself attending unless of course, he was unassumingly invited and therefore, had all the nature in himself to ask unassuming questions. Since such was the case, he had made use of his own dullness, and not the one sitting promptly in the chair a little ways from him.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Mr Rage
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- The Lockhearts -

As the two hostesses went about explaining in detail what their assistance was needed with, Chester couldn't help but start to puzzle pieces together, and through all of it, it seemed as though much of it was very close to home for the pair. The missing member of the Craftsman's Guild, Elizabeth would be able to assist with, which she wasn't a member of the guild any long her parents were still prominent members of the organization, she was practically raised with many of the current big names of the group as nannies and god parents. She would be able to at least point fingers to who might have answers, and perhaps if it was she who was asking, they may give up answers more easily.

Mr Smith, too, rang close to home for Chester. In this particular instance he had gone to school with the fellow. He didn't really remember him much, other than him being a bit aloof? Hyper-focused, perhaps, on the wrong things? Either way, the man had not left much of an impression on Chester, but perhaps there were a few classmates that would remember him better that he could ask.

The automaton parts and plans in all of this were something that were of equal interest to each of the pair. Elizabeth had studied the basics of their construction while at school, but didn't really go much further into their study once she learned of their taboo nature. Chester, too, had learned a bit from Elizabeth about the basic principles of their design as an introduction into her vision of their own secreted project. Indeed, if they were able to get their hands on those plans it might reveal something to the pair that could be useful, towards one project or another.

"We will help of course," Elizabeth started, "While not a member of the craftsman guild currently, I have family who are well established within the ranks of the organization and close ties to others. I would be happy to assist the Captain in making introductions into that line of inquiry. My Husband, too, should be of assistance with the fellow from the Polytechnique Institute, as I recall they were class mates, isn't that so?" She turned to her husband as she asked.

"Indeed it is," His warm and soft voice replied, it was no wonder he had chosen velvet for his name, "Though I must admit I do not recall much about him... However, I may have some classmates who were closer to the gentleman in question whom it would be my pleasure to inquire with. Similarly, with our line of work, I suspect that we may be some assistance with any technical plans that you may find with deciphering meaning and intent from the plans... that seems to be a knack of mine at any rate."

- Mr Brown -
The man had listened to the information that was needed. He could help with any of it, of course, but he didn't really feel too inclined to do so. Not yet, anyway. He flipped through the mental catalog of all that he knew about for the Real Mr Brown. It didn't seem like he really had any connection to any of this, outside of the smuggling of restricted tools. David decided that he had better double back to the Mr Browns residence to take a look through his records, see if he was masquerading as the man who actually sold the tools used to kill some people. If that were the case, he had better get out of the way and quick. Maybe leave the real Mr Brown tied up in the library as a parting gift... maybe not. Either way, there were more secretes to be had, and this much secrecy, to pick false names and such, that speaks of people who might be willing to buy, and for a good price, too, if he can find 'em.
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