ayzrules

Men vs. Women Race to 1000

261

Steampunk: Technica-Autocrator

ahhh so I will be out for the 25th, 26th, and the 27th, and I do not think I will be able to post today

so sorry :(

Steampunk: Technica-Autocrator

@DarkStar o.O whoa is everything okay with your car? And don't worry about delay, it usually takes me a bit to reply too :D

Steampunk: Technica-Autocrator

@DarkStar Haha man it's not a problem

and I hang around casual and advanced+this seemed cool so yeah!!

Steampunk: Technica-Autocrator

Cornelia was desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood from Anne's chest when a red-haired Technocrat-Lady Callaghan, Cornelia recalled, dimly remembering that Lady Enright had mentioned her before the ball-approached her, bringing a doctor along with her. "Excuse me miss...I don't know if your friend is still...but I have brought assistance. She will be in the best of hands," she said. It took Cornelia a moment to realize that Lady Callaghan was speaking directly to her; most Technocrats would not even deign to glance at somebody like Cornelia, let alone address her by anything other than "girl" or "wench". Cornelia was even more surprised when Lady Callaghan gently moved her hands aside and was stunned for a second before stiffening instinctively and then relaxing again. Casting her eyes around the room, Cornelia could see medical personnel streaming into the ruins of the Lightfeathers' ballroom. She assumed that it was Lady Callaghan who summoned them somehow. Usually, Cornelia would not have missed such a big thing, but she had been too occupied with Anne to notice.

"Miss...I don't know who's done this, but I am going to need help to find out...Might I employ your services miss?" Lady Callaghan questioned quietly. Cornelia found herself taken aback for the third time. She eyed Lady Callaghan warily, wondering what the hell the Technocrat would want to do with a prole like her. Cornelia could only assume that Lady Callaghan wanted some sort of spy or "observer", but of course, Cornelia didn't work for free.

There was the sound of a loud explosion, and Cornelia waited for the reverberations to dissipate before opening her mouth to speak. Lady Callaghan was watching her expectantly. Cornelia looked in Anne's direction, and seeing that there were indeed doctors tending to her friend, she began.

"Ma'am, if you would have me serve as your parlor maid or serving girl, I am afraid that I am already employed," Cornelia said carefully, gauging the Technocrat's reaction. Cornelia lowered her voice as she continued. "But if you would have me watch and listen, with all due respect ma'am, I would be more than happy to oblige...for the right price." Cornelia was never one to tiptoe cautiously around subjects that were more controversial, especially not in a dire situation like this.

For the first time, Cornelia felt as if she had some sort of upper hand. If Lady Callaghan refused, well, Cornelia was still working for Lady Enright. And if she agreed to pay her? Cornelia would be able to send more money than ever before back to her family. She felt a sudden twinge of homesickness. What would her mother say if she knew what Cornelia truly did for her employers, other than dusting the candlesticks and scrubbing their floors? Cornelia impatiently pushed the thought out of her mind-it would do her no good to grow overly agitated in a moment like this.

However, thinking of home made Cornelia think of the other people she knew. It was true that she had few friends amongst other proles, but the few friends that she did have were very connected. Cornelia's lip twitched slightly as she thought of Sebastian Shoreditch, a middle-aged butler who currently worked for a wealthy Meritocrat family. He was born with a photogenic memory, an extraordinarily rare trait. Sebastian was a wily and shrewd, and kept his unusual talent a secret from most everyone, including his employers. He learned to read when he was in his 20's, and since then, he had been snooping on his employers. Cornelia always went to him whenever she needed to find something obscure like a valuable antique; if anyone knew about it, it would be Sebastian. Besides, he didn't ask for anything but a flask of cider, and he was good company. Cornelia fondly recalled his salt-and-pepper hair and cocky grin, his outrageous imitations of his employers, and his many sardonic wisecracks. Maybe Sebastian would know something about the vigilante-it would definitely be worth a try.

Wilhelmina Sullivan was about Cornelia's age. The two of them had suffered through countless beatings and scoldings together when Cornelia was fourteen; they were as thick as thieves. When Cornelia was fired from her first job, Wilhelmina was devastated, but through a long chain of underground communication and passing messages to people who might know someone that knew the other girl, they were able to stay in touch. The last Cornelia had heard, Wilhelmina had become a prostitute at a fairly established brothel. Cornelia could see why she would be hired; Wilhelmina was as delicate as a doll and ten times more beautiful than one too, with her rosebud lips and dainty figure and thick black ringlets. Wilhelmina would have definitely been in contact with wealthy Technocrats. It would be worth a try attempting to speak to her as well.

Finally, there was Charlotte Elliot, or Lottie, as Cornelia called her. Almost seventy years old, half-blind, and hunchbacked, most people thought of her as a helpless old lady. Cornelia had thought so too, at first, but it was Charlotte who got Genevieve Clarkson to employ Cornelia as an informant. From what Cornelia knew, Charlotte had stayed with the Clarksons after Genevieve's death despite the fact that Charlotte was Genevieve's nursemaid and very close to the woman. Gabriel Clarkson had obviously been swayed by his parents to let her be. Getting in touch with Charlotte would be tricky because she rarely ever left the Clarkson estate, but not impossible. Cornelia would figure something out.

Cornelia let a small, cordial half-smile slip onto her face as she awaited Lady Callaghan's reply. Maybe she would even be able to find out more about the masked murderer for Lady Enright during their exchange.

Steampunk: Technica-Autocrator

@DarkStar I've seen your post; will reply later today/tonight (I have to go take a four-hour long practice exam -_-)

Steampunk: Technica-Autocrator

Cornelia was caught up in a flurry of handing out drinks and collecting empty glasses when Earl Lightfeather and his wife began to speak. A hush fell over the assembled crowd. He said something of a new mining endeavor-which Lady Enright had told Cornelia about before the ball-and his wife made a cruel, sardonic remark about proles. Cornelia felt anger rise up her throat, but she willed herself to shove it back down. Her back seemed to ache as she recalled the scars that would be there for the rest of her life. The Earl continued to speak, and Cornelia listened closely as she picked up a fresh platter of pastries.

And then...the world exploded. The far side of the room flew inwards, completely destroyed. Shrapnel rocketed through the ballroom and screams filled the air. Dust and smoke clouded Cornelia's vision as she stumbled away. There was a slight pause before the glass dome shattered, sending shards of glass flying everywhere. Cornelia barely felt the platter of pastries that she was holding drop to the floor. She was shoved to the ground as a Technocrat man collapsed on top of her. Pushing the man away and getting back onto her feet, dazed and bleeding from a few cuts due to the glass, Cornelia blinked several times and cast her gaze around the room. The figure that strode confidently in from the middle of the debris immediately caught her attention.

Whoever it was wore black robes and a bronze mask made of cogs and gears that never seemed to stop turning. A steamdroid attempted to attack the figure, but he-or she, as Cornelia had no idea who it was-viciously stabbed the steamdroid in the chest with three blades that seemed to come out of the figure's hands. Well, I'm sure that Lady Enright would like to know about that, Cornelia thought dryly to herself despite all that had transpired in the last minute or two. Cornelia spied her mistress standing in the corner, unscathed but shaken. That was good; Cornelia still had a job and she still would be able to collect her bribe.

The robed figure began to speak. "Earl Arthur Lightfeather, I find you guilty of oppression, decadence, persecution and gluttony. Your sentence, execution!" Then, the figure stabbed the Earl as well. Cornelia felt nothing after witnessing the gruesome event; there was no love lost in between her and any Technocrat out there. But she felt her interest piqued by the declaration the figure made right after killing the Earl-"Let this be a lesson to all of you whom would oppress your fellow man."

The figure was gone just as fast as it had appeared. He or she grappled out of the ruined ballroom, and Cornelia tried to see if she could find Anne or Lady Enright. She felt bruises forming on her side and ignored them for the time being. She'd lived through far, far worse than a couple of cuts and bruises. There were a number of people walking toward the dead Earl. Lady Lightfeather seemed to be paralyzed, immobile and gasping for air. Serves her right, Cornelia thought darkly to herself. Should've killed her instead of the damn Earl. Cornelia recognized one of the men standing near the Earl's corpse as the Technocrat with the young prole servant she'd heard earlier talking about the murderer.

Cornelia found Lady Enright in the same spot she had been in before the explosion. Cornelia figured that this was such an event where the policy of not being seen with her mistress could be ignored. "Cornelia, there you are," Lady Enright said. Lady Enright was a matronly, middle-aged woman with a sharp mind and greying chocolate brown hair. "I suppose that neither of us were expecting that." Lady Enright pulled Cornelia aside, lowering her voice so not to be overheard. "I want you to find the others and tell them to immediately head back to the house."

"Yes, ma'am," Cornelia replied softly. "Would you have me go with them as well?"

Lady Enright shook her head slightly. "No. I need you to stay and find out everything you can about what just happened. Forget the steamdroids; this takes priority. You will be handsomely rewarded for your, ah, services, as always."

Cornelia nodded. "Yes, ma'am," she said again. Lady Enright released her and Cornelia turned around, walking back into the fray. She searched frantically for Anne; sweet, kind Anne, the only one who would even speak to Cornelia. She spied her friend lying on the ground, unmoving, and hurried over.

"Anne, Anne, Anne," Cornelia whispered anxiously, kneeling beside her. Now that she was up close, Cornelia could see that Anne was bleeding badly. She'd had the bad luck to be directly in the explosion's path. Cornelia desperately felt for a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when she confirmed that Anne was simply unconscious and not dead. Cornelia's fingers scrabbled clumsily as she took out her pocketknife from the front of her dress, disregarding all the rules of propriety, and cut a strip of cloth from her apron to staunch the flow of blood coming from Anne's chest.

Somebody abruptly yanked Cornelia's head back, and she found herself face-to-face with a Technocrat. "You," he ordered curtly, tightening his grip on her hair. "Get this cleaned." He thrusted a stained jacket into her hands, giving Cornelia once-over, his eyes pausing for a second at her chest. She recognized him as the man who almost struck a red-haired woman a few minutes earlier. Cornelia felt rage cloud her thoughts, despite her voice of reason shouting silently at her and the memories of her teenage years; who the hell did this bastard think he was, assuming that his fucking jacket was more important than her friend's life?!

Cornelia stared at him long and hard before dropping the jacket and turning back around. "What are you doing?!" the man demanded, pulling at her hair again. Cornelia felt herself lose control and shoved him sharply away.

"I'm trying to save my friend's goddamn life, that's what I'm doing!" she practically shouted. Fortunately, the other people in the ballroom were more concerned with the injured and the dead Earl than with Cornelia. She let out a breath of disgust and gingerly picked Anne up-which was not very hard to do, considering her friend's diminutive stature-and marched away.

Steampunk: Technica-Autocrator

Cornelia Vernell smoothed out her freshly starched apron and surveyed the opulent ballroom. She felt a twinge of sympathy for the maids who undoubtedly spent hours upon hours cleaning and polishing and dusting the place. As it happened, Cornelia was not employed by the Lightfeathers, but merely "rented out" for the night-she was only working at the Lightfeather estate for this one event. Lady Enright had deemed the steamdroids of enough interest to ask Cornelia to observe. And, as usual, Lady Enright was offering about a month's worth of wages for this service. Cornelia was more than happy to oblige. Speaking of which, Lady Enright herself was somewhere in the room, but Cornelia was instructed not to seek her out because it would arouse suspicion. This whole situation was nothing new at all to Cornelia.

Cornelia was rather wary of being around so many wealthy men at one time, considering her past experiences. However, the ballroom was crowded with people of all classes and the servants' corridors were filled with people hurrying around, which provided her with some reassurance. And she supposed that she paled in comparison to the Technocrat women, who were dressed in silks and satins and in the latest fashions. No, she would be just fine.

Cornelia had picked up a tray of elegant champagne glasses from the sideboard and began to weave her way through the crowd, taking note of anything that was particularly interesting. The guests plucked the glasses off of the tray without so much a glance in Cornelia's direction, save for a few leers that she received from a group of young men. Cornelia was used to it, and simply ignored them. It was amazing how much Cornelia saw and heard; in the span of just five minutes, she learned that Adelia Rielly was having an affair with a Meritocrat, Stanley Bergab was a "cheating scoundrel", and Edward Grey was most likely going to send hundreds of proles to their deaths by involving them in a risky experiment. But none of that mattered to Cornelia.

Just then, the Lightfeathers themselves appeared, accompanied by a host of steamdroids that began to mingle with the guess in the ballroom. Cornelia keenly observed the steam droids; they were certainly good at doing their job. She spied a man wearing a gray suit and accompanied by the head butler moving toward the storage room for the steam droids. The butler mentioned something about fixing droids to the man in the gray suit, who stuck out like a sore thumb amidst all the elegance and grandeur of the Lightfeather mansion. Hmm, well that was new. Cornelia's mistress would certainly appreciate knowing that some of the droids were malfunctioning.

As Cornelia made her rounds through the room, collecting empty glasses as she went, she found that many conversations were focused on some mysterious murderer that had targeted the wealthy. She overheard a man that was most likely drunk tell his young servant boy that the Technocrats were "scared shitless" about the whole affair. Cornelia didn't think much of it, although she gave the prole boy a small smile when he looked in her direction. But she pocketed away the information anyway. It could be pertinent someday.

However, Cornelia felt her suspicion rise when she passed by a few Meritocrats talking amongst themselves about the same mysterious murderer. She inexplicably felt her heart skip a beat when they mentioned that Technocrats who oppressed the lower classes were being targeted; but she pushed her foolish burst of hope away. There was simply no way that one lone vigilante or murderer could change something so deeply ingrained as the social hierarchy. There was no way. It was impossible and utterly ridiculous, yet Cornelia felt her mind spinning in circles at the snippet of conversation she'd managed to overhear. Don't be so fucking stupid, Cornelia, she chided herself, plucking an empty glass out of a red-haired woman's gloved fingers. It was just mere talk and speculation; nothing concrete.

After her tray was emptied of the delicate champagne glasses, Cornelia walked out of the ballroom and made her way through the servants' corridors to the kitchen. She placed the empty glasses carefully in a tub of soap and water already filled to the brim with cutlery that needed to be washed, and thenwent back to the ballroom. She caught her friend Anne's eye as she walked, giving her a grin as they passed each other in the hall. Considering Cornelia's personality and the fact that she actively took bribes from her employers to spy on others, Cornelia naturally did not have many friends. Other servants were suspicious and wary around her lest she be assigned the task of spying on them . Cornelia thought that was the most insane thing that she'd ever heard-what Technocrat cared that much about proles? But she certainly was not going to put in the effort to dissuade the ridiculous notion, and she kind of liked having a reputation.

Back in the ballroom, everything was business as usual. Cornelia sighed and picked up a platter of eclairs. Time to find out more about these steamdroids.

Steampunk: Technica-Autocrator

I apologize AGAIN for a delay in between my posting (I am very busy this holiday season) but I will have a post up within 24 hours