File: CofD_DarkEras_character_s(...).pdf (2.67 MB, PDF)

2.67 MB PDF

>>2090002

“Card?” She takes it off your hands and begins examining both sides curiously, “Henry A. Browning. Warehousing?”

She looks up to you waiting for further clarification which you give, “Your Highness, I was wondering if you could do me the honor of bestowing me with some advice or knowledge of people that would need of such a legitimate warehouse business that I happen to pertain to. Storage of good or material, transport, protection. You would happen to know, right?”

After that explanation, the Princess pockets the card and looks at the people attending. A small smile shows on her face.

That stops when a certain someone exclaims,“Are you using her Highness for some scummy business deals now!?” Beatrice then gets between you and Charlotte. “Are you going to use her and throw her aside?”

You take a serious pause and think about what Beatrice has said... for all of three seconds. One for you, another for YOU, and the cloudy as of now future with all the unknowns happily fucking and/or helping the people, “Possibly? Maybe? It very well depends on her Highness and your people, doesn't it?” What you said is apparently shocking enough that the two look at you, her Highness neutral and Beatrice is both angry and fearful. “I don't know the future in its entirety. I cannot claim that YOU wouldn't betray me. Or keep me occupied. Or so on and so forth. I cannot claim that I will never receive a job in opposition to you or your friends. Such is the way of being... me.” You explain in detail while having an unbiased tone throughout your reasoning.

“Y-you... would...” The guard dog steps closer to the Princess as if you'd turn on them at any time.

It's somewhat offending that you're in such a plebeian category, “Oh please, I do a one week grace period of not backstabbing a client after a job's complete. Unless he, she, they, betray me. Rarely happens. Only done it once. Otherwise, I'm a faithful to the contract or contracts written or formally worded. I WILL uphold my end till the job is done or I'm not available or some circumstance. I won't ever accept an outside job to harm a client during a job. Ever.” You declare and finish off your drink rather forceful than necessary. You wish for something stronger to drink.

Cont.

>>2090008

Too bad the servers on the floor aren't handing it out. Then you feel a poke in your left arm and see Charlotte withdrawing her hand. “You really are a mercenary.”

A statement of fact. Neither negative nor positive in her tone of voice, just fact. One that you agree with wholeheartedly. With a nod to her and a tip of your empty glass, you announce, “I am,” adding, “And you are a Princess.”

After trading those facts to the little cringe of Beatrice's face, her Highness begins telling you about the big players that she knows of. Coal miners, steel makers, ship makers, production, supply, bankers, investors, people with their grubby hands at business, the people here. They all are currently busy ingratiating to the heir apparent and those with actual power, leaving your pupil entirely alone.

It's funny, you've seen Charlotte being fancied at events before and all of a sudden she's at the sides, invisible, out of sight nearly. And you slowly understand the political backing of the Princess. Worthless than an empty wine bottle. Post the ceasing of small and big talks and parties scatter to their conglomerates, her Highness, and a few others if you really look, is left with Beatrice and you.

Sure it's been only an hour. It's been an hour. You need a new glass. Where the tingle are the servers? Where's the food? The drinks? Ange promised free catering! By those dead martyrs and saints, where's the easing your basic needs? Your fact needs have been met for the most part and you can do other things. Like now you...

Ah, someone comes! It's.......... you blink, blink some more, blink about twenty times to be sure, cover your left eye just in case it deceives you, and gently rub your eyes clean of any particles though that doesn't make sense. What your vision... couldn't be... not possible...

A woman slightly taller than Charlotte but shorter than you, dressed in a tan and dark green gown with little frills, with a few wrinkles of old, dark, long brown hair to her neck, hazel eyes, comes with a more older couple formally dressed in proper attire for the evening. “Salutations, Princess. A good evening to you.”

As soon as her deep, motherly voice comes out, your mind plays an old memory of your childhood. Couldn't be. Doppelganger. Aunt. Not your...

“And the same to you, Miss Bridget. How fares your family? Is the Wellesley House well?” Charlotte greets the newcomers gracefully, Beatrice bows, and you remain invisible.

A weak bow from the older man with normal curtsy from the ladies, the woman answers back, “My father has a minor sore throat and shouldn't speak and I must act as his voice as none of my other siblings could attend. Mother has to keep him in check.” That gets a coughing from the graying man in the back to a small smile from the two ladies.

Cont.

>>2090015

Then your eyes meet the person so similar to your mother. Hell, you don't remember her name, let alone her actual face. Your mind must be playing tricks or is incorrect in remembering something from over five years ago. You look absently at something else, watching... Bruce working? Oh, he's here, being a server.

Your peripheral vision picks up blinking. “Daniel?” While you don't know your mother's name first and last, or father's last name, you do recall his first. The very word she utters in question.

>You don't believe a thing other than Daniel is not your name. Correct it as such. “Hm? I'm not Daniel. I think you're confusing me with someone else. Here's who I am...” And maybe transition to business. Business, business is good. So is shutting up.
>Mom? As in your mother? Or possibly an Aunt? You never did know of your extended family. Or is this some weird, you know what, fuck it. See where the rabbit hole leads. “That is not my name. That does happen to be my father's. And you are?”
>Silently tilt your head in question, frowning in thought, shake your head, then look away. Oh, she must be wrong and so are you. Oh mind, so silly sometimes. Ho ho ho, enough of that nonsense. You're just a guard.
>Shake your head and excuse yourself to the Princess. You want out. And what better way than...... (Choose something)
>>Is that old man Bismark? Retired chancellor from Prussia? Now, this you need to see for yourself.
>>Bruce! Get me some food and drink! Don't look at me like that! Do your job! Kidding.
>>There's an unused second-story balcony. Yeah, you're not feeling social enough right now. Go watch over her Highness from afar. You doubly swore to protect her.
>Write-in.

>>2090019
>You don't believe a thing other than Daniel is not your name. Correct it as such. “Hm? I'm not Daniel. I think you're confusing me with someone else. Here's who I am...” And maybe transition to business. Business, business is good. So is shutting up.

Glad to see you are back.

>>2090019
>>Mom? As in your mother? Or possibly an Aunt? You never did know of your extended family. Or is this some weird, you know what, fuck it. See where the rabbit hole leads. “That is not my name. That does happen to be my father's. And you are?”

>>2090019
>>Mom? As in your mother? Or possibly an Aunt? You never did know of your extended family. Or is this some weird, you know what, fuck it. See where the rabbit hole leads. “That is not my name. That does happen to be my father's. And you are?”

>>2090019
>Mom? As in your mother? Or possibly an Aunt? You never did know of your extended family. Or is this some weird, you know what, fuck it. See where the rabbit hole leads. “That is not my name. That does happen to be my father's. And you are?”

Inside your very being is a slight turmoil at so many variables, unknowable, unknowns, that it all condenses into a single, calm feeling. Curious, you are. You thought that both mother and father perished in the past and that may still be true. Yet who is before you? Extended family? Grudges of another person? Miscommunication? Why you are no coward. Forward.

At caution. You breathe, looking at the lady in front of you, and stoically point out, “That is not my name. That happens to be my father's. And you are?”

The woman doesn't show what she's feeling as your words take about two seconds for her to handle the whole meaning. She then shows a bright smile before converting it back to a cold persona. “Ahem, Bridget Wellesley, second daughter of the Wellesley family. Famous for our great forebearer that defeated Napoleon, The Duke of Wellington. A small house to most. My father,” She gestures to the elder gentleman behind her and he steps up, “Arthur Wellesley, the holder of the title Duke, Prince, Baron, Viscount and other titles. And my mother, Kathleen E. B. Williams Wellesley. May I ask who you are?”

You look at your pocket of plain business cards bearing your alias and promptly not use them. Instead, you go with the facts, “I don't know my true name. My parents never did tell me. I have different names that I am called.”

You see her mouth agape for a short time, almost like she's winning something and it returns to a normal. “If I would so rude to ask, may I ask of your parents?”

Oh, you get what she's playing at. She needs to be sure while you're, eh, the same thing really. No shame in your past so far as you know, “I believe they died when I was... say twelve. I came from a poor family. We were nomadic and walked all over Albion before the split. Even after too, the wall wasn't up at the time. Much of it surviving. Even after their death-”

“Where did they expire?” A rude interruption, but you're smart. You and the madam are connecting. Was Mom this smart? Yes.

“In some village in an abandoned shack. They were ill and the final nail might have been some tainted water-”

Cont.

>>2090480

You get a vicious but weak slap on your right arm and your mother gets close to your face and then backs a bit away, “I! Did not drink that water you brought. Where did YOU go?”

“I thought you both died when I went out after leaving the water. I didn't drink it.” You state truthfully.

“Your father did, I'm afraid. I thought you ran away or died too.” Well, you did.

“I did. And as a child, I technically left... with what I could carry. I survived anyway as you can see. What about you? You weren't breathing when I checked.” You ask.

“Fainted. And it's shallow breathing. Next day I wake up in another place with Daniel and you were gone.” Guess you were wrong. You were a dumb kid after all.

“Well, I was wrong then. I was a kid then, it was hard to tell dead people from dying, okay?” You then feel a patting motion ruffling your left sleeve.

You turn to look at your aging mother, her facial features are softer, slight differences than you mind thinks, but it's close enough. “Son.” She says. What you've always recalled and it comes in sync with all your old memories that you heard. Always, son, son, son, from both mom and dad. And you never did question it.

“Mother.” You reply as you've done long, long ago as a kid. Familiar.

“It's been a while.”

“Six years. I'm eighteen now.” This is.... weird. Are you suppose to be happy? Glad in being wrong? Disgust? Sad? Remorseful? You and your mother are sure that your related and more 'proof' can come later. Does that mean you have a blood family? Do you even want one if the first place?

>Return to true Mercenary-Gentleman ways. Hand your mom your business card. The past is just the past. Sure, parts been clarified, your perception was wrong and your mother lives, but that's not an issue. Never was. Your concern is your warehouse business, not finding out your family being alive. You are Henry Adams Browning. And you will keep it as such.
>You suppose this is where you and mother explain stuff? So... grandfather and grandmother? Do you have cousins? Trade life stories? Not offend the Princess that to your side, that's a given.
>>Write-in.
>You want time alone. To think. Are there repercussions to entangling back into your family? Do you really want to? Disadvantages? Advantages? YOU need to think, you need to think, you need some information but without being in direct confrontation. You also need food and drink. And you need to protect her Highness if there's a slim chance of harm coming to her. Bruce! Poke his brain and his platter.
>Walk away. Just walk away. And right into someone that has a problem with you. Uh, oopps?

>>2090490
>>You want time alone. To think. Are there repercussions to entangling back into your family? Do you really want to? Disadvantages? Advantages? YOU need to think, you need to think, you need some information but without being in direct confrontation. You also need food and drink. And you need to protect her Highness if there's a slim chance of harm coming to her. Bruce! Poke his brain and his platter.
It's probably best to keep the family at arm's-length for now. For their sake as much as ours.

>>2090490
>>You want time alone. To think. Are there repercussions to entangling back into your family? Do you really want to? Disadvantages? Advantages? YOU need to think, you need to think, you need some information but without being in direct confrontation. You also need food and drink. And you need to protect her Highness if there's a slim chance of harm coming to her. Bruce! Poke his brain and his platter.

>>2090490
>>You want time alone. To think. Are there repercussions to entangling back into your family? Do you really want to? Disadvantages? Advantages? YOU need to think, you need to think, you need some information but without being in direct confrontation. You also need food and drink. And you need to protect her Highness if there's a slim chance of harm coming to her. Bruce! Poke his brain and his platter.
If Browning is a Wellington relation it's going to be pretty inconvenient to run an honest business.

>>2090490
>>You suppose this is where you and mother explain stuff? So... grandfather and grandmother? Do you have cousins? Trade life stories? Not offend the Princess that to your side, that's a given.

>>2090490
>You want time alone. To think....

You. Need. Time. Alone. Alone time. Alone time is a good time. You've just probably gotten into some huge mess once you realize that you are staring back at your much living mother, grandfather, grandmother, and who knows what else. What politics, noble hogwash, missing information, family issues, etc. have you gotten into? Take it easy, relax.

You can handle it all at another time. For now, you need to excuse yourself. “Uh, mother.”

She has a gentle smile one when she turns to you and hums a, “Hm?”

“I need some time to myself. This is all... odd. A family reunion. I need to think.” Right, her Highness, you didn't forget about her and so you turn to face her, “Pardon me. I'll be nearby if you need me.” And you without waiting for their replies you step away from your little group and go walk somewhere to a clear area in some corner of the room. One that gives you good enough of a sight to watch the Princess if trouble were to happen.

All is clear and, “Hhhhhhaaa.” You grumble under your breath. What have you've gotten into? No idea. What do you know? Nothing. That's the most concerning thing. The title Duke of Wellington is famous, the family? You've never heard of them. Will endearing them be a conflict of interest? Could they hold back your plans? The effects! The affects!

Then a surprising deep voice reaches your ears and a platter of drink and food appears before your eyes, “Troubling times?” Good timing, you were thinking on fumes.

You give one glance to the 'waiter' Bruce, noting him all spiffy in his tuxedo, bald as ever with bright blue eyes before you help yourself to wine and assorted topped crackers. “Indeed. So, why are you here, Bruce?”

“It's Donald right now.” Oh, interesting, you never would have guessed the name change. “On several jobs right now.”

“I'm on a job, sort of. Part vacation and guard duty.” You sip the red wine and find the aroma and taste not to your preference. What brand was this? Don't get this crap.

“Her Highness.” He guesses right.

“Obvious, isn't it?” Now for a cracker, oh, meat. Tasty. Crunchy. Approved.

“Someone sends a message.” You only give him a look to go on as you continue your excursion of eating tiny delectables. “The Duke of Normandy asks if you would like to do a short and simple job.” Oh, bless baby Jesus, what now? One thing after another.

Could you not have a real break? “C-can you put that on hold? I have a lot on my mind.”

“Apologies. I had assumed you were free, a mistake on my part.” He does a slight bow but stays were he is. Goodman.

Now if you could find out more about the Wellesleys later, actually Bruce might have some info. Some or one is better than none. “Thank you. I... okay, can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you know anything about the current Wellesley family? The one the original Duke of Wellington came from.”

Cont.

>>2092603

Bruce coolly looks you in the eye questioningly, cautiously, trying to determine your motives and after about five seconds he moves his eyes elsewhere to the dancers or the drunkards bellowing. “I know very little of them. Only things I've heard is that they're small in fame and they continue the tradition of the men joining the army. Not much positive and negative news surrounding them. No gossip as far as I heard. Although given they're not mentioned much, I presume them to be of small standing compared to the higher class of characters wielding power.”

Not famous or in the spotlight. That's actually good information you can consider. “Thanks, Bruce.” You put another mouthful of a cracker with some paste, maybe a sauce, and cheese. Hm, not bad. Not bitter as you would have imagined. Tomato is next.

“A non-issue.” He answers and you continue on dining are watching over Charlotte as she engages with your mother. Kindly, he does not ask for your reasons so neither do you ask about his jobs.

That is until you decide to bring up his previous mention of a job once your belly is satisfied by drink and vittles, “About this job, could you say more about it?”

“Other than it's easy and the meeting with his grace. He's in another room. If you accept, I'll take you to him.” If Bruce says something is easy, it really is easy for you, unlike so many other times.... Oh but you have things to think of. Except you need more info. And protecting your ward. And maybe relax. And not speak with your blood relatives. Or do.

>If might not be a bad idea to be in the good graces of Normandy and earn some money for yourself. Associates in high places, valuable yes. And Bruce can keep the peace. You see his small pistols profiling. All is safe, well, until you're on the job.
>You suppose with what Bruce said, about them not being current famous or condemned, meeting your family might not be a disastrous prospect. But... how in a not weird way? Or is that impossible? Write-in.
>This is strangely relaxing. You're not being pestered by people, surrounded, marked. Yes, you quite like being served by Bruce and not 'working' working. Why not stay as you were? No need to dance or get personal with others. Just let things be. Meditate. That's the word. So what if you have a family? You got a business to run and you're a mercenary. You can figure out the family thing on your own time.
>Nuts to this party! You're hanging out with the men! Your allies, drinks, fun times. Not here. Upper balcony. Let's go. Sometimes, one needs no thoughts in the brain for it'll end up springling... spallingly... spiraling into the abyss for which madness comes.
>Write-in. Mingle back to the Princess. Get very drunk. Form plans for the future. Ingratiate yourself to nobles and merchants. Etc.

>>2092612
>Write-in. Mingle back to the Princess. Get very drunk. Form plans for the future. Ingratiate yourself to nobles and merchants. Etc.
Perhaps avoid getting too drunk. We still need our wits about us by the time we make it back to the princess. As far as plans for the future, definitely plan on setting up a meeting with our family somewhere out of the public eye so we can catch up. Maybe hand out our card to the various well-to-do's attending the festivities as a way to potentially grow our business. Oh, and we need to start thinking about acquiring our own ship for business ventures (piracy)!

>>2092612
>>2092727
This.

>>2092612
>Drink and think.

Life is complicated. It can be simplified for people of different tastes. You on one hand, “Bruce, do you guys have some good whiskey or vodka?” Do enjoy a good drink. Be it YOU or you, a good alcohol is a good time. Just don't get too drunk. Bah, you can watch yourself.

You listen to the orchestra play European classics, watch the dancers enjoy their time on the floor, listen to numerous conversations go on and on about right and wrong, smell the aroma of a strong vodka and taste the sting it has when it goes down your mouth. All is peaceful.

Ah, ap, up, up, you keep tabs on the Princess, sometimes. The members that weren't in the beginning ultimately come in during, oh you don't know the time. About the middle part of the timetable of this ball. YAWN. Ah, it's ending of stuff. Time to get some sleep in a nice bed.

…

Little you swore to never go back inside the castle. Something inside spelled danger. It's quite easy to do, if not for the fact that a certain girl kept running into you in the streets. “Ah, hey, are you coming over?”

“No. I have work to do.” You say to the blonde girl in the tattered brown coat and walk onward to your destination, the general area that the middle-class parade though. Good pickings. It should have been the end of it. It wasn't.

The next day, “Hey, we're having a picnic in the garden, why don't you come join us?”

“No. Work.”


And after that one, “Hey, could you read this for us?”

“I have to shadow my parents.” That time you weren't making an excuse to not being with those girls.

“What do you mean by shadow?” For the love of...

“Here! I manage to get some fresh bread!” Ah, uh, huh? Ack, fine. You'll trade it for something, not crap. Haa, you'll buy what meat you can afford on hand. “Why don't you come visit the castle? It'll be fun.”

“I have to do things out here in this dirty city, okay? I don't live in the castle and I'll get in trouble if I'm caught. And getting in that tight gap is too much for me. I don't want to go through it.”

“Then, why don't we find another path for you to take? Oh, maybe we can find some cool things then!” This girl, why is she hanging around you? The Princess sure, you can get. But why this?

You decide to answer her, “Some other time in the next decade.”

“What's a decade?” Exactly.

…

Cont.

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>>2093556

Then something was different. You were going along your normal route down a dirty decaying stone path of the crapfest of an Albion capital when the pickpocket bumps into you. Once you both recover from the recoil, she begins vigorously shaking your arms up down, left right, “Hey, hey, hey! It's really important! Come with me!” You're unable to protest when she drags you to that canal to the castle partway and stops before the wall proper.

“What is it now?” You finally ask the girl for her reasons for doing this. Was there the need to drag you here in this dark and cramped place? You're not getting any smaller.

She huff and puffs and answers you a bit too quickly that she slurs her words, but you get the meaning of what she wants to say, “The Princess, she wants to go outside! And she says she's never went outside the castle walls before! We'd be switching places for today. I'm kinda worried so, can you stay with her? Please? Pretty please? You're smart, right? You can take care of her.”

Why you would wonder why people would go out in the impoverished streets where buildings are sure to crumble from a slight breeze, shanty towns and all over, the stinky slums, river, and God knows what else. Why would this supposedly important girl to the nobles want to come out? You don't even want to be here!

>Why? Really, why should you guide her? You barely know the Princess. Or the pickpocket for the matter.
>No! You want to disassociate with girls you don't know. You don't even know their names. Liar. You do. Ange, and Charlotte. But really, you have your own things to do today. Mon and Dad have big plans or something.
>Ppppfffff, fine. You better get something out of it. Well, at least you're not in the castle. Guess that's kinda okay.
>Write-in.

>>2093560
>Ppppfffff, fine. You better get something out of it. Well, at least you're not in the castle. Guess that's kinda okay.

>>2093560
>Ppppfffff, fine. You better get something out of it. Well, at least you're not in the castle. Guess that's kinda okay

>Why? Really, why should you guide her? You barely know the Princess. Or the pickpocket for the matter.

These aren't exclusive dialogue

>>2093560
>>Ppppfffff, fine. You better get something out of it. Well, at least you're not in the castle. Guess that's kinda okay.

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>>2093560
>Ppppfffff, fine.

If there's another little person running around lost in this spawn of 'civilization', oh you don't want that. Forbid the special Princess asks for your help while you're on the streets. One lesser of evil coming right up.

“Fine. I'll watch over her, okay?” You say impassively then feel a bunch of crap gets dumped into your chest.

“Thank you! Thank you!” You got scones and cookies! Sniff, smells pretty good. “I need to tell her right now! Uh, stay here! She's going to be dressed as me so don't be surprised. Bye bye!” And off she goes in the path to the castle, leaving you alone in this dark and cramped space.

Yeah, you're not staying here. You'll be at the opening canal to the street. Munch, hmm, is this chocolate? Never had this sweet taste before in your life. Wait, were your bribed or paid just now?
…
Some time passes after you finish your feast of unhealthy goodies, too much time actually. An hour passes with not much for you to do. Except maybe find one of your secret stashes and take out some pennies in case. Ah, you could be stealing them by now! You squat and wait on the street level like the rest of whoever is doing the same or equivalent here. Who's poor? Everyone here.

Then a low echo from the canal. Sometimes of water being splashed, the wet and dry stone being stepped on. It comes closer and closer and a scruffy Princess comes out full of sunshine and smiles. It goes away the moment she steps out into what passes at sunlight light around these parts and she gets a real view of this slum.

“Welcome to London.” You greet her overhead and stand up.

Her head snaps up to you, letting out a, “Huh?” as she accumulates your presence. Then she states neutrally, “Oh, she sent you.” There isn't much familiarity but it seems she recalls you days ago. Or was it weeks?

Well, you remember her and you're going to watch over her. “Yes. Come on, get up. Wasting steam here. Up.” You extend your hand and pull her up to the street level. “You want to see London? Well, here it is in it's brown and pipey glory. So, what do you wanna see?”

“See? Uh...” Right, no knowledge. That makes things complicated.

>Well, you only promised to watch over her, not escort her. Let her lead.
>FINE. You'll lead and be good at it! It's gonna be great. Everything's gonna to be apples and pears and peaches and... what the hell are you going to do? (Choose something below)
>>Eating! There is, in fact, places that don't serve shit. Take her there.
>>Just wander around the perimeter of the castle. There's a whole lotta bull of nothing for most of it. But it might keep her awareness from wandering lost.
>>Well, you were planning to go into the nice sector. Hm, why not show her how you work? She gets a tour, you get the $. Oh, you'll need better clothing though...
>>Write-in. There's like trains, cars, stores, cottage industries, what the heck do you know about London? What's worth showing?

>>2093954
>FINE. You'll lead and be good at it! It's gonna be great. Everything's gonna to be apples and pears and peaches and... what the hell are you going to do? (Choose something below)
Show her all of the interesting spots around. Any notable landmarks, big factories, maybe hitch a trolley to the more interesting areas of town. Basically give her the grand tour.

>>2093954
>>2093988
Supporting. I can't really think of anything else.

A grand tour. But that's... normal! And fun!

How normal can you be?

Roll 1d100

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Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>2094114
Hopefully normal enough to not scare our new friend associate.

Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>2094114

>>2093954
>FINE. You'll lead and be good at it! It's gonna be great. Everything's gonna to be apples and pears and peaches and... what the hell are you going to do?
>Grand tour

Not squandering the time with thinking of a plan or waiting for her, you grab her hand and lead her to the nearest trolley station. Your tour can start there. “We're going, come on.”

Her feet don't hesitate when you pull her along as she questions, “Going? W-where?”

“A tour.”

You may have needed to pickpocket some strangers to get the money needed for the fare. You may have had to be not so discreet about it in front of the Princess. You don't care though, she doesn't protest about it, and after two swipes of getting some coins, you take the steam trolley car and go over the bridge to see the big Clock Tower and that palace next to it.

You don't really know about crap about it so it's a quiet journey as this girl takes in the sights and seems to enjoy the ride. You notice something of the place during the ride. There's not many people out in central London. A few kids, teenagers and adults roaming around. Something's amiss, you can feel it. Normally during the day, there are more people doing things like shopping, talking and so on.

Now it's almost deserted. You don't inform the Princess of the changes. No need to. You don't go here often, for many reasons you need not elaborate other than your clearly low status compared to all those above. As there's a lack of Bobbies on the beat, today's a little different. Getting off at the next stop, you do a little shopping for food.

Here at least, the food is edible. Now has your stash been compromised? No, it has not. Good. You can enjoy yourself for the day. And you suppose the Princess. Heh, a stranger in her own country. Waffles for sale? You'll take it!

...

You barely speak to her about things aside while you go around showing her more or fewer buildings, steam and whatever is interesting. Mostly nothing in your opinion, but you've at least heard of people liking this thing or note that thing. You play your part of the leader and give her both the good and bad of the city. There's no helping it. Strangest thing, there's the lack of activity in all of London. And you mean from the norm.

Makes pilfering not so lucrative as you walk and walk and take the Princess around. Is she happy? You can't tell for certain since the sights are varied. More curious and cautious if anything. She doesn't ask much of you, maybe a question here or there. Works just fine.

Cont.

>>2094312

Your grand tour is nothing special in your opinion. You kinda dislike the city of steam and scum and squalor. How can you show the brightest if there's none? Or maybe it's just your bias opinion. At least you give it a D+. Thanks for trying Capital, you really are a shining example of what Albion can do.

The day's fading, so you suppose after what you've done, you can take the girl home now. Should be easy... since... what the?

As you're heading closer and closer to that castle on the hill, you're seeing more and more people either coming out and rushing over or on the sidelines watching what's going on. When you can finally hear the chanting and shouts, it all more evident what's occurring.

“Gather up your weapons! Everyone counts!”
“We'll get the bastards!”
“Go! To the castle!”
“We will be free!”
“Today's the day! For Liberty!”

A few raise what torches, sticks, pitchforks, but mostly, guns, in the air and the mob forms. Partly orderly, partly chaotically, they all move forward to the castle. Not parliament, not the factories or whatever, but the royals main home on the hill. Well, you've heard they have others but no matter. The people are set for the one that, oh, the Princess slips from your hand and rushes full speed ahead to home.

Right, Ange is there. And the Princess is here. And these bloodthirsty adults are going there. Welp, that seems not so good. And what the heck? Dad!? Why's he here? He usually hates being in big gatherings. An exception. A job. What's he up to.

>Well, Dad's business is his, and you got your own. You did say you'd watch the Princess. May as well chase after her and see where this whole situation will go.
>Fuck that castle and mob shit. Dad? What the heck? What's up? Where's Mom?

>>2094313
>Well, Dad's business is his, and you got your own. You did say you'd watch the Princess. May as well chase after her and see where this whole situation will go.

File: 098408923507823587053.jpg (192 KB, 1920x1080)

192 KB JPG

>>2094313
>Well, Dad's business is his, and you got your own. You did say you'd watch the Princess. May as well chase after her and see where this whole situation will go.

You give your father one look, watching he gets some items out of some home. Not giving him any more attention, you trail after the Princess full speed. In to the breech you go, weaving between the people, not getting a pitchfork or otherwise in the face. You may have lost sight of her due to the difference is size and concentration, though you don't need to. You can already tell she's going through the same path that you know on hand. Easy in, easy out for small people.

You can see black and orange smoke emit from the castle from your place in the coward, covering the fading sunlit sky. Tiny embers float by the wind, black and gray ash follow puffs fly above, a few times it comes down to the people without much of a care from them. But you can smell it. The burning of wood and something else. The people cheer and push forward. One time, you hear a bang of some sort, far away. What's that? It's different, makes you shiver. You feel a little pulse go over your entire body. A strange feeling.

Still, you press on, jumping into the castle canal in time to see the back of the Princess. After her, you go. You exit out the path and see her going up that hill to the stupidly small window, for you at least, and disappears. You hold where you are in the canal. You felt something. Another pulse. Then the roar, it's closer and to your back. Then you see something smash against a tower to your far right.

Stones fly from the tip of the wall tower and pieces land hard on the grass. You stare in amazement. There's something that can smash stone with such force. Incredible. And terrifying. You feel another one as one more thing wrecks into the burning castle itself. More destruction! More fire!

You slightly lower your body as some tiny bits, metal, wood, stone, or some other mange to fly your way. Simply exhilarating! Could it be, that one day you could manage that level of destruction? It both sends tingles of joy and fear all over to your fingertips and toes. Once more! Another ball comes in and this time smacks the section that the Princess went into with a thunder and loud crack. This time, more splinters and dust fly at you and you duck when it washes over you.

Cont.

>>2094541

Truly devastating and you shiver when pieces fall over your body. The people way across cheer so loudly you can still hear over this eeeeeeeee sound in your ears. Getting to your feet, you see what remains, a giant hole where a wall was and a bunch of dust in the air obscuring some wall and beyond with more sounds of bricks falling apart. That is some real power you've witnessed. Something you don't want to be on the way off. In fact, you should just leave.

Your senses repeat, trouble, trouble, Trouble, TROUBLE, this time more positively as you legs lock themselves from moving. While you would like to see more eradication of bricks and wood, you really know that saying here to whatever is hitting this place, not the smartest decision.

But the Princess and the Pickpocket, are they alright? Should you even bother? The Princess did come back home. And though you can't see the inside area from the smoke, it's not your business anyhow. It would be insane to go in. You're not looking to die. You want to see MORE carnage. Just not be said carnage.

>Who fucking dares? This kid! You want to go in! Trouble? Indeed! This time by your will! Try not to die. As to why? Write-in.
>Run away. You can watch the castle fall by not being inside this place being destroyed. That is, at the mob's side. They're the ones doing this damage. Learn. Adapt.

>>2094543
>Who fucking dares? This kid! You want to go in! Trouble? Indeed! This time by your will! Try not to die. As to why? Write-in.
It certainly sounds like quite the adventure. What kid doesn't want to save a princess? Besides, she and the pickpocket are kinda our friends... Or at least the closest thing to friends we've yet had.

>>2094543
>Who fucking dares? This kid! You want to go in! Trouble? Indeed! This time by your will! Try not to die. As to why? ADVENTURE and helping the closest strangers you know not of your family.

The ground finally stops shaking and the dust cloud passes by so you get back up and look around for anything else that might hurt you. Finding none and finding that all the fear that flows in your body and mind can suck it, you dash forward to see what has become of whoever was there.

It's even more breathtaking that you push forward and find the chasm made by the object that smacked the wall. Dusty, but you can see the cracks in the stone and the smell of something not of the fire. A different smell of burning. One day you'll find out what it is. For now, you study the hole as it clears of soot.

As it's not clearing fast enough, you look past the wall and see three big figures walking away, only their shadows and hats really give their being away. Soon enough, they're gone. Nothing interesting and the flying pieces of earth calm down enough that you can see it's a short drop into the hole. Well, onward! You slide down the most gradual slope and avoid a big brick in your way and step lightly onward.

Almost as quickly as you've come down, you find that Princess all dirty on her back but otherwise fine. She did survive the mess. What's this? No one else? No body parts as stories have told. Guess that pickpocket is alright. Looking up, there's more rubble of the wall and the smoke-filled sky, not worth the effort. Oh, but you see this weird thing all mashed up to heck on one side embedded to the ground. When you touch it it's really hot and you can tell its metal. A cannonball!

Never in person have you seen one! Your curiosity sated, for the most part, you return to the Princess still sleeping on the dirt, pick her sorta up with your body and start climbing out of the hole. It was not easy.

Harder going out than in, but you get out as more cannonballs fly over your little head. Safe you are passing through the canals once more. As for this unconscious girl...

>Well, you've done the best job you can. Give her your canteen and some money, she's on her own.
>At least you could do is take her to some church or orphanage. No way she's going back to that castle pass her own guards and the mob outside the walls. Also, it's dangerous on the streets alone. Suppose it's your last act as her guide.
>Take her home with you, errrr, sorta.

>>2094855
>>Take her home with you, errrr, sorta.
Take her to one of our hideouts until she wakes up then ask her what she wants to do. Hopefully if we bring her back there'll be a reward for saving her.

>>2094859
Sure, Why not.

>>2094855
>Take her home with you, errrr, sorta.

>>2094855
>Take her home with you, errrr, sorta.

You'll take her home, errr, sorta. You don't actually have a home, as in a real home cause of all the roaming around. Places to temporarily to stay in, sure, plenty of those. The most current place you know of that isn't occupied by your family or anyone, a stony shack near the graveyard. Might not be the most illustrious place for a Princess, but compared to that fireball over there, oh, it got a lot bigger.

You had thought of being rewarded for saving the Princess. Eh, never mind that. You have a lot more walking to do. And carrying. Your back will probably be sore, not that she's heavy it's the enduring part. Going down streets and streets of protesters not giving a single care of your existence sure helps you make it to the cemetery of it's called, it's for dead people and that's all you really need to remember. Sleeping beauty is still not awake when you dump her on what passes as a bed, a giant stone slab with a cloth put over it.

Good thing there's no bodies here. Or caskets. Even though it's a supply shack. A gloomy one at that. Work in your case. And while sleepyhead is out, you go out robbing! Hell, you missed supper, time to make up for it. All that noise and people not in their usual places, oh ho ho ho. Self-enrichment here you come!

…

Stealing some food and drinks is easier than ever and most likely the only time you can get away with it too. Huzzah! And some other things. You enter the doorway with sandwiches, other baked things and orange juice in a bottle, finding that the royal is finally awake.

On recognizing you, she gets off the bed and rushes to you in a panic, “Where are we? What happened!? Where's Ange!?”

Not too disgruntled by her questions, you set aside supper on the bed and take a load off before telling her, “A hideaway at the cemetery. I found you asleep outside the castle walls and brought you here. Ange? Uh, she might be in the castle? I mean I think the adults would be smart enough to leave.”

There's fear all over her face when she musters a high pitch, “Huh!? Why!? Tell me!”

“It's on fire and people are throwing things at it and can break walls.” On that statement, she dashes outside like the end of the world happened and you walk out to no surprise, see her watching the fireball on the hill. “You saw it too, how mad those people where? I don't get why, but they seem really unhappy.”

“Ange is there? Did you see her there?” She says whole calm, a much more different contrast to her panic from earlier.

Not enough to faze you from answering the question, “She wasn't by you when I found you. She's probably safe, I saw these people with these big hats. Didn't see her but if she's taken by them, she's safe, right? Guards or something?”

There's little relief when she hears your facts, only a, “Yeah, I see.” And you continue to watch the fireball collapse on itself but keeps burning as ever.

Cont.

>>2094987

“So, what will you do?” You kinda regret hauling her if she's being kinda of a weirdo. Compare to other kids or adults, they're more lively so you can tell their feelings. This girl? She was in a panic then clammed up. You don't make excuses for yourself, you usually don't feel emoting anything. Here, you're unnerved. Is this what people see in you when you aren't faking it? Hm, maybe you can do better at not caring about things. You're only a little invested in your associate. “Going back is plain dumb.”

“I need to find Ange. I made the mistake of coming out and switching places with her, now she's there. If I didn't...” All this negativity, Hail Mary help this girl!

“She's a Princess now, so she's safer than you, isn't see? Assuming she's smart, yeah?” Like what can happen?

Charlotte turns around, not showing her anger aside from her eyes glaring into you, “She's not a Princess. So she might be in trouble. You said those people are really mad, right? They might hurt her!”

Don't royals have protectors, they're like better nobles and crap. “She... You have guards or something, don't you? If she plays the Princess, she'll be fine. You should focus on staying alive yourself or you'll never meet her again.” Here to hoping Ange is smart. “You want to find her, fine. I won't change your goal. Have at it.”

>“I left food and drinks there. You're on your own. I gotta go. Bye.” Yeah, you don't want to associate with her. Something about her is off.
>”Think about yourself right now. Ange can wait. Hell, wait for tomorrow at least, it's night now.” You suppose the next best thing is to stick to her. Least till she gets her head straight about surviving in London. Shit has changed in this place. You feel it.
>Shut up now and watch the burning castle on the hill. Then go back to your parents. You'll check on her tomorrow if you can.
>”Hah, I'm going to regret saying this. Idiot! Let's eat supper. Since you're out here, it's the last time you'll have something good. Then you'll meet my parents. YOU need to live or you won't be able to help HER. Got it?” Seriously, why are you being a goody person? Uh, complete watching over this Princess. You promised Ange. Just for one more day.

>>2094990
>>”Think about yourself right now. Ange can wait. Hell, wait for tomorrow at least, it's night now.” You suppose the next best thing is to stick to her. Least till she gets her head straight about surviving in London. Shit has changed in this place. You feel it.

Offer her food still and try to come up with a cover story if our parents find us. We can't let them know she's the princess

>>2094990
>>”Think about yourself right now. Ange can wait. Hell, wait for tomorrow at least, it's night now.” You suppose the next best thing is to stick to her. Least till she gets her head straight about surviving in London. Shit has changed in this place. You feel it.

>>2095005
Agreed, Kid Browning seems like he still has some empathy and pity than grown up browning but our parents will probably try to profit out of this. Not saying that WE shouldn't if there is a reward at the end of this.

>>2094990
>”Think about yourself right now..."

“Think for yourself right now. Ange can wait. Hell, wait for tomorrow at least, it's night now and that group out there isn't done doing what their minds have set.” You feel a bit too patronizing when you tell her to be patient. It's really weird. Though you do it to yourself whenever you make a fuck up, just not recently. Doesn't mean it won't happen sometime in the future. Is this what it feels? What adults do to kids? Uh, awful.

Charlotte doesn't talk back to you, keeping quiet instead but she stops staring at her burning home and start looking around the graveyard. “There's nothing here but graves. Come on, food's inside. You can think after eating. I know I think better when I'm full.” You chide without feeling remorse or weird this time and go inside.

…...........

You let out a small cough when you wake up not lying down on something like a bed. Where were you? You thought... well opening your eyes would help. Your vision slowly clears up and you find yourself in a dark bar booth with initially around nobody around. No electric torches are up and the only light is the sun's coming from the few portholes. It's only that you hear some metal being worked that you know someone else is around. Getting the blanket wrapped off of you that smells of alcohol and note your body does too, you sit in the outer seat and see Bruce at the bar working on polishing his pistols.

His eyes go to you for a moment before returning to his weapons. “Morning.” Is all he says.

“Morning.” You reply and get to your feet, going on over to him. “Uh, I got drunk, didn't I?”

“Not too bad. Compared to others, you're usually calm and happy when dealing with everything. Unless people do something stupid like breaking your glass. It didn't happen this time.” Swell, and you don't have a hangover. Whatever a hangover is. Hurrah Cavorite?

“So nothing bad happened while I was about?” You ask to be sure. Your drunk adventures are... different than others on the scale of crazy insane to insane stupidity to madness all over.

“You helped me with a job. That's all I can say.” You can't recall right now what's he's saying. The memory part of the mind isn't ready at this moment.

Oh if you're in trouble, “Wait, what? Details! Am I in danger?”

“No. You got my target drunk enough that he managed to fall overboard when he left the bar. Only we didn't see it. Got it?”

Oh, so you helped Bruce finish a hit job indirectly. No qualms in that. “Oh, okay. Was this guy important?” You don't want to get traced to some trouble you haven't foreseen, yet.

“Middle management.”

“So no then.” You feel some relief and relax the tension from your system. “Got something not alcoholic?”

“Grease and oil fine?” Real funny.

Cont.

>>2095131

Ignoring the poor joke, “I'm assuming the ship isn't in an uproar.” Given there's no siren or yelling through the sound pipes.

“Nobody reported him missing.” So, nothing is amiss. Good. Keep it that way.

Well well well, you have the morning to yourself. After cleaning up the stench and getting new clothes, you'll be a new man. Now what? Hang out with your associates. Check on her Highness though that's more or less doing nothing. Oh, there's also your family from yesterday. Hm, let's not drink this early.

Maybe some legitimate business is possible? Connection making? Oh, meetings.

>Pixy, Kid, and Foch are very interested in something that Butler bought. Something related to you. Oh, you hope it's not embarrassing.
>Going around, you see Ange in need of... special help. Maybe find out what's it about?
>Get a relaxing massage in the parlor. RELAX. You need it.
>Meditate in your room. The voices are calling. Shut them up.
>>Or become YOU. FUCKING SHUT UP.
>You meet a special person. (Time for some dice for who it is.)
>Her Highness's insight in London's local merchants can be useful now. Why you must be feeling pretty chatty to speak to strangers. After all, it's for the money.
>Write-in.

>>2095132
>Get a relaxing massage in the parlor. RELAX. You need it.
We deserve to treat ourselves every now and then.

>>2095132
>>Her Highness's insight in London's local merchants can be useful now. Why you must be feeling pretty chatty to speak to strangers. After all, it's for the money.

>>2095132
>>Her Highness's insight in London's local merchants can be useful now. Why you must be feeling pretty chatty to speak to strangers. After all, it's for the money.

Business deals it is.

1d100 roll.

Are the top dogs impressed? Or will you have to handle nobodies? Or maybe, there are some hidden gems? Or are you screwed?

Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>2095474

Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>2095474

Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>2095474

>>2095132
>Her Highness's insight in London's local merchants can be useful now. Why you must be feeling pretty chatty to speak to strangers. After all, it's for the money.

Body's squeaky clean after a shower, did some shaving, in some new clothes, you're almost a new man! If only you felt that way. That's alright though, you'll make do this morning of free time doing what amounts to work. But it's for a good cause! Never forget that. Get that money. It's a good time as any to take advantage of the information her Highness so generously told you. It may be a small summary but it's better than you personally charging on with no knowledge at hand.

Now as to finding tycoons, shopkeepers or those in need of your peaceful enterprise. Hm, the lounge sounds a good of a place as any. The high-class one. You'll start there. Hopefully, you won't be turned away.

…

Good news, you weren't turned away. A sorta annoyance that occurred, you had to 'prove' how rich you were to the big man at the door then on entering the freaking manager. God dammit, is five pounds flashing not enough for you!? You know you're richer than either of these two COMBINED. Pisses you off so much being accosted repeatedly. It's okay though, you get a free drink and see without a doubt some of the people the Princess mentioned.

That said, numerous persons are all busy in the smoke-filled extravagant room, drinking, talking among their define groups, or listening to that girl playing the harp at that stage in the far corner. Hey, a fountain of a nude mermaid. Works of art. Etc. For now, you go to the bar and take a seat and browse through its catalog of drinks. In which you do some careful eavesdropping.

Male A: “Sometimes I think my wife likes to make a mess of things for the family.”
Male B: “Ha, same when she was my daughter.”
A&B: “Ha ha ha. Cheers.”

Female C: “You should know. You're a stockbroker. Prices are going down and when it's low enough, start buying some up.”
Male D: “Ma'am, that's where you're wrong.”

Female E: “Did you hear? One of the Princesses might get married off.”
Female F: “Oh, I suppose it's to a foreign nation.”
Female G: “What a shame. If only there was one worthy. Oh, importantly, did you see the young prince yesterday?”
E: “Aren't you too old for him?”
G: “Hmph! My younger sister isn't.”
F: “You just want the fame.”
G: “Who doesn't?”

You'll have a gin and some sausage and cheese. Oh, and nothing worth hearing so far.

Cont.

>>2102069

After making your order, a trio of three young men come to the bar and take seats close to you as the rest are filled. The babyface one with a brown beret on his head leans slightly to his left with a frown on his face, “Ed, I swear you shouldn't buy that crappy property with your own money. At least not without an inspection.”

The red-headed, having a lightly scarred and rough face young man comments back, “I told you, I'm going to rebuild that place and sell it off.”

“Can you even do carpentry?” The third man questions. You can't see his face since it's covered by a dark green and brown patterned scarf and black top hat.

Red smirks pridefully, “I know people, Garfield.”

The first man shakes his head and eyes the menu while giving glares to his friend,“Dammit Ed, you shouldn't hang with those lot. Oh, uh, I'll have a champagne.”

“Same here.” Ed answers.

“I'll also have one. Where were we? Oh, those gangsters you hang around with. They're bloody dangerous.” About now, your food and drink have come and you help yourself to breakfast. Or is it brunch?

“Boys, boys, don't forget I know how to defend myself.” You see the oh so confident man pat something inside his chest pocket.

The eyes you do see from the covered man are rolling over from the comment made, “Yeah, but you can't deal a bird for its feather.”

“Oh? Then what would you two then? And don't say you won't buy that wreck.” Ed counters back.

“Come on, Ed. That house is a total money sink. Refurbishing a house is no easy job. And your class needs work.”

Ed: “Hey, let's ask this man here. Look.” You for sure know he's speaking about you.

“Please, no.”

Ed: “Hey, stranger. Sorry to be a bother but I have a question for you-”

“I would find ways to reduce the value of the property before buying if it's not in my budget. Numerous ways to do it if you can negotiate the price. Find some flaws and such. Or have someone else buy it while another with greater talent in the building field goes to work. Those are two ideas.” You interrupt answer and sip your glass of gin to a short silence.

Cont.

>>2102074

This Ed looks at his zipped up friends with glee and gives smiles to you, “You! You're smart. May I get antiquated with you good sir?” You toss out three business cards. Some introductions later, you meet the real estate buyer Edward Brooks, the beret man is a lawyer in training named Thomas Thatch, and the man whose head is covered up is Garfield and does retail in London. Didn't mention what.

After some back and forth, you manage to get in their good graces and find out what they know in their respective fields. It's sent to filing as it's numerous, suffice to say, you spend till lunch talking to these three lads about their professions while mentioning what you only wanted to give. Tidbits enough that Garfield is willing to deal with your warehouse business once you both are back on land. Say, a week from now at your office.

Now Ed has thoughtfully assisted in expanding your views of the London's property trade. It's... uh... something. Mostly, in your opinion, sounds like a mess to deal with. At the very least he can introduce you to specialists. As for Thatch, he's is mundane, normal, that is not to say he isn't intelligent. He deals with the Kingdom of Albion's laws. While they are of limited value to you, all things considering, it's at least a good way to peer into the lawmakers society without stepping a foot inside. Though you weren't able to make big money in deals or getting materials, you found valuable information no doubt worth it's potential in the future. All you have to do is make good use of it.

But that'll be back on land. For now, it's lunchtime.

>Hang out with your associates. Ask them about their time here and general small talk.
>Who's that spying on you? Dorothy? It is mighty rude of her to watch you, but you suppose you can let it go and speak with her. Write-in for questions if you feel like asking.
>You're recalling your family. May as well have lunch with them. See who's who and your place in the family. No huge story sharing, that's not why you're hanging around them right now.
>Oi, it's that petite girl with a negative attitude to you. What's she doing?
>Meditate alone in your room. You're not really hungry.
>For the hell of it, explore the innards of this ship. Learn some seamanship.
>Lookie here, The Duke of Normandy. You are ever graced by his presence. What does he want?

>>2102080
>For the hell of it, explore the innards of this ship. Learn some seamanship.
>Drag Foch along with us.
"Ready to go on an adventure, Herr Foch?"

>>2102080
>>Oi, it's that petite girl with a negative attitude to you. What's she doing?

>>2102080
>>Oi, it's that petite girl with a negative attitude to you. What's she doing?

>>2102080
>For the hell of it, explore the innards of this ship. Learn some seamanship.
>Drag Foch along with us.
Time to make a man out of him.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

1. Ships with Foch and Kid since he's hanging around him at the time
2. Beatrice is doing... something.

>>2102080
>1.

You're walking past the giant steam stack fuming the lifeblood of the moving ship going nowhere in particular. You're at the.... port side? Starboard? You got infantry terms down and a little of the air, but ships are a different matter. Hang on, don't the air boys use ship terms? Aye aye, you get it means yes. And a few things about maps. Oh, you spot Foch and Kid hanging out, leaning at the rails near a lifeboat.

You hear German and German from the two, one good, the other so-so, “Lifeboat. Rettungsboot.“

“Ack, these long words. They hurt my throat.” Conroy complains, making a warped smile.

“Conroy, Foch.” You say and get their attention.

Foch nods to you, greeting back with,“Browning, sir.”

“Browning. Ahh, guten, I forgot evening and afternoon.” Conroy is still learning the language.

“Don't worry about it. You'll learn. One day. So you two having a nice time?”

“Yeah, pretty nice here. Food's great. Sure isn't back home for sure.” Kid says and scratches the back of his head.

“I've been on ships before. Travel purposes but they were never to relaxation. It is a nice change. But when I see you, it puts me on edge. Somehow, nothing is ever easy than it seems.” Oh, Foch, it's great that he's so correct in his thinking.

You have to congratulate him, “How right you are! Say, I'm a bit keen on learning this ship's inside and out.” Hastily you whisper to the two as another group of sailors pass behind, “One day, I want airships and normal ships of our own.” And you go to normal speech again, “How about joining me for a drink? We...” Once you're sure that the group is no longer in earshot, “Join me for a little excursion?”

“Hm, sure. I could use a walk.”

“I... guess so.” Excellent! Onward!

>Roll 1d100 for something.

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>2105036
Let's go

Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>2105036

Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>2105036

>>2105036
>86
A jolly good adventure! Found the bridge! Gave your thanks to the Captain and went on your way. Sneaking into the section you're not supposed to. Happy hour of not getting caught. Map! Exploration! Found some manuals. Stuff them in a bag you found. Haha, stealing.

Yet while you and Foch trade ship terms in English and German as Kid tries to understand it all, you sense something going down on this floor you're in. You halt everyone and motion all to be silent. There's trouble here, you know it. You creep along the corridor walls, watching the doors and listening to anything not natural to the ship. A few steps later, you hear loud enough grumbling from a very tiny opening to the door next to you.

“We can do it tonight!” A young male voice.

“?????????”
“????”
“??????”

“I swear I can get people to join. Now everyone on board is a loyalist. I'm sure some already thought of...”

“???????????????????????”

“Oh, oh, you want someone else gone?”

“???????????'”

“So not the... okay.”

“?????????????????????????????????????”

“You want one guy gone? Really? Then...”

“??????????????????”

“Hmm, tomorrow huh? Maybe we can do it but then we'll need more than a couple of us here since there's no surprise. We could do it in the morning and wait out till help comes. You guys have a ship right? I am not letting my people drown in the place when it lights.”

“????????????????????”

“Oh yeah, we can capture it if you really want to. Just need two ships then.”

“?????????????????????????????????????????”

“I'll hold you to it then. So, this guy you want dead, who is he?”

“???????????????????????????”

“Uh-huh. That isn't saying much. I mean we're trying to find one guy that we barely know what to look for.”

“Hey, I'm out. This isn't my thing. If you got enough money for tomorrow, then I'll consider it.” That voice! P-Pixy!?

“Huh, uh, fine. Bring your friends too then. You'll come to us. I know you will.” The door opens up and there's nothing for you to hide behind when Pixy comes out. You both quietly stare at one another for a brief moment and he shuts the door. Well, this is awkward.

>Meeting time! Not here. Time to leave.
>Whisper to him if the people in there are friendly or enemy to YOU. If they're an enemy, time for a preemptive strike.

>>2105497
>Meeting time! Not here. Time to leave.

>>2105497
>Meeting time! Not here. Time to leave.
What a twist.

>>2105497
>>Meeting time! Not here. Time to leave.

>>2105497
>Meeting time! Not here. Time to leave.

Time to leave. You use hand motions to convey the command and you all flee to safety to reconvene in a less stressing environment. Back to the public corridors, you all regroup at your room, you getting Butler who was enjoying some tea and reading a book in the middle-class lounge, to discuss what the hell was down there. “Gentlemen, we are here to question the tea out of Pixy. What was going down there? Cause I heard some suspicious words by someone. Not you, I heard you say you're leaving. The other guy.”

“I heard a lot of mumbling inside, where there a lot of people there?” Foch questions with Kid continuing,

“Why were you there?”

“Boys, easy.” Butler stops any further questions from them. “Mr. Foulke, continue.”

Pixy takes the stage, taking a few moments to process the last moments and begins, “Well, I met an old friend and I got invited for a job screening. One thing lead to a meeting and I could already see it not ending well, so I left. Honestly, I barely understood the other party was saying. They were speaking some Baltic language or something else. Heard a few words but I might be wrong. They mostly spoke to my friend who did the speaking.”

“People?” You mean the number and Pixy knows.

“Us, five counting me. I think there's more. And those guys negotiating were four together. They were in these great coats and had their faces covered by a mask and hood. I certainly didn't expect to be in a meeting so I didn't get prepped for one. I have no idea what they're planning but it sounded pretty bad.”

“Sounds like an assassination and stealing a ship from what I heard.” You say, calling back to what you heard.

Now Pixy asks his question, “Why were you three down there?”

You slash a grin and dump some of your findings on the bed, “Exploring. I wanted to learn about ships and drag these guys with me.”

“Then it brings us to dealing with these men and their intentions.” Butler summarizes. “Mentat? Have any ideas?”

>“Give me the spice!” Who hates Spice and Cavorite? You! But dammit, you fucking need information.
>You require Pixy to pretend to join his friend's band. He can report to Butler. Right now, you should speak to...
>>Her Highness about this mess.
>>Hmm, the Duke of Normandy might hand an award. Or a job. You're in it already so may as well see it through.
>>Hmm, Bruce. Somehow, you feel like telling him. Or maybe he knows something. Hopefully, he's not in. Then again, he doesn't to group jobs often.
>Sad to say, but YOU'll be doing some counter assassination. Sorry Pixy, your friends sound like trouble. Far as you can tell, they're not Continental so you have no qualms about eliminating a threat.
>Find a more peaceful solution. Let them know by way of Pixt that THE Mentat and THE Green Dragoon is here and doesn't want trouble to happen. It would be.... bloody.
>Planning later, do something else for now. (New options)

>>2105768
>“Give me the spice!” Who hates Spice and Cavorite? You! But dammit, you fucking need information.
Anything with Cavorite leads to a fun time.

>>2105768
>>Find a more peaceful solution. Let them know by way of Pixt that THE Mentat and THE Green Dragoon is here and doesn't want trouble to happen. It would be.... bloody.

>>2105768
>>Find a more peaceful solution. Let them know by way of Pixt that THE Mentat and THE Green Dragoon is here and doesn't want trouble to happen. It would be.... bloody.

>>2105768
>Find a more peaceful solution...

You're not feeling like hunting down these.... mercenaries, for now. In hopes of not ending in bloodshed as many of your problems end up, you think the better option is to send Pixy as the envoy with a note telling this band to not cause trouble on this very ship or you will spill their goddamn organs. Sounds good enough of a plan in theory. Off Pixy goes with your parcel to his friends while you and the rest stay put for further news and to relax.

It's actually more German lessons for Conroy, haha, you better learn faster. All in good jest and learning. You expected a quick resolution from this, given the titles Mentat and the Green Dragoon mean something in private and public context. Ugh, you remember the newspapers articles on the second one. It's not dragon for a reason. Please, you ride in the sky not fly.

An hour passes which isn't too unusual, given this large ship of many floors and sections plus the many passengers and crew roaming around. Pixy must have needed to search for his old friend all over this place. No need to worry. It's fine.
...
Hour two comes ticking in and now you're cautious that something must have happened to Pixy. You told him to deliver it, get an answer and come back. It's a simple job. Well, not anymore evidently. Meanwhile, you get a note from Ange detailing tonight's ball and an invitation. Crap, it's very soon.

“Pixy's not back.” Conroy astutely says in German, his eyes on the clock and a worried expression on his face. “Something must have happened.”

“Shit.” You mutter. A wave of ideas come, Pixy kidnapped, coerced to the other side, killed, probably in this limbo form of not being to return, bathroom issues. None of it was good. You didn't have much time or an idea of what's going on but you at least know that this other party isn't to be taken lightly anymore. Pixy isn't likely dead because he did walk out before, or delayed in his return as he's not here. Held up? Possibly. Where? You sure would like to know. Why? Doesn't matter.

>Time to search the ship. Conroy and Richard can take it easy and look around in the public areas. You and Butler need to go do some illegal shit. Butler can search some rooms and listen for anything. You're going under the deck, specifically back to where you heard the conversation. Maybe the room will have some hints.
>The party.... shit, you have a bad feeling. But, they won't act, you know that from the voices, not until tomorrow. So, time for some dress up. Come more armed though, a pocket pistol won't cut it.
>Go to the party, but don't go through the main entrance. Chose a more, unorthodox approach. And bring Hellsing.
>This is bad. You need outside assistance. That also means letting them in this problem that, if you give it some thought, they're already in anyhow. (Pick 1 below)
>>Princess and her group.
>>Duke of Normandy.
>>Bruce! Oh, you better not be in on this bullshit.

>>2110170
>This is bad. You need outside assistance. That also means letting them in this problem that, if you give it some thought, they're already in anyhow. (Pick 1 below)
>>Princess and her group.

>>2110170
>The party.... shit, you have a bad feeling. But, they won't act, you know that from the voices, not until tomorrow. So, time for some dress up. Come more armed though, a pocket pistol won't cut it.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

1. Tell the Princess
2. Arm up

>>2110170
>The party...
The party, you should go to it. Aside from your 'this is bad' feeling, you not coming unprepared. You don't really have a stockpile of hidden armaments at the ready, but two revolvers should do it. If only you could not profile them, shouldn't be too hard with a stuffy suit. And your knife. Too bad the party is invitation only, otherwise you could have had company. No matter, they can do other things. None of which you'll be responsible for, that's Butler's job now.

“Shit. Alright, gentlemen here's what going on...”

You return to the same ballroom yesterday, only to find it more flowery and flashy with marble round tables lined up in many rows accompanied with a green cushioned chair engraved in it the crest of the Kingdom of Albion. A banquet you presume. You can see several early birds like you sitting, chatting, but most are on their feet, talking in their cliques. You give some note to them, after all, you're here to HUNT.

Th's the view from the doorway before you're accosted by the server in front, “Sir, may I see your invitation.” You hand it over and are quickly given it back. “Very good, Sir. Please, follow me to your seat.” You do so as your eyes wander from place to place, doors, windows, ceiling, this group, that one, the unused second floor, the empty stage, lack of music, the mumbling. Nothing suspicious or eye-catching. “Here it is. You'll be near the Fourth Princess by request. Have a lovely evening.” It's one table away from the Princess's corner one as he points out.

“Thank you.” You fake a smile to him as he leaves and returns to your staunch inspection. The Princess and her entourage are whole this time around when you see them talking. Charlotte notices you first and waves to you in respect and for you to come over. You exchange the greeting part but don't come to her and follow through your inspection by wandering the area.

Your 'family' is here, two tables across from yours, a slightly larger cast of characters together. You recognize mother and your grandparents, but three others you don't know. Either way, you're not figuring out family matters now, you're on a personal job. Mom waves so you give one back and keep exploring the room. No suspicious people, or maybe you're not looking hard enough. In fairness, this room isn't full yet. It could be they're not here yet. Or they're really good at hiding.

>Slip a note for her Highness about the shit you're in. Then keep searching.
>Go personally to let Charlotte know the future danger you think will happen. No worries, though, it's why you're here.
>Look. Look harder. No, smarter. And by lady luck.
>Try to go into the kitchen area. Or find Bruce and tell him the situation, if you can find him that is. They could have agents there.
>Speak to your family in a half-hearted attempt. No real reason to but maybe to put that you're not actively searching for the louts that have Pixy.
>Duke of Normandy, he can be useful.

>>2110594
>Slip a note for her Highness about the shit you're in. Then keep searching.

Roll of the dice

1d100+5

Rolled 2 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2110820

File: image.jpg (39 KB, 509x625)

39 KB JPG

>>2110827
Shit.

Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>2110594

>>2110594
>Slip a note... 96

Since you're here and her Highness is as well, she may as well be informed of recent events. Sure, it's not a whole lot of info to go on, better than none and enough to act on. But you shouldn't concentrate on that so much, you still need to... a very, very light thud from above. If not for your concentration, you wouldn't be able to distinguish it from all the other noise. Then a very light object taps your head. Reaching for it, you feel up a small .455 Webley round except lighter than any you've handled.

Sensing its importance, you go to a semi-secluded spot to yank off the polish lead bullet, not that it's supposed to happen in normal circumstances, but this isn't a normal one. It's easy and comes right out. Lo and behold, tapping the inside comes out a tiny note not written in ink but sliced in the middle to resemble a two. The second floor, you get it. If the noises weren't enough, this helpful hint seals it. Hurriedly, you jot a really condense summary for her Highness and friends and send it with some alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks from a server undetected.

For you, you're heading up, quietly. You leave the room, stating some excuse before heading up some restricted steps. Now, why are all of the stairs going up suppose to be closed? Peeking in the balcony, you find nothing but chairs stacked and tied together. No people.

Two... two.. two floors above? Not second? Perhaps that's the meaning of the note. Yet there are no more stairs heading up in this area. You wander one lap around to be sure, then you opt to check the sides of the ship. While there's no way up, one item catches your sight. You may have been looking up, but you didn't neglect on looking down. What's this? A lifeboat all ready to go at half-way to the water with a black tarp? It's closing tonight so if the time is ripe, down it goes and out of sight.

And this, if memory serves and you sense of direction is right, is the stage in the ballroom. If you had blueprints or a detailed map of this ship, that would be very helpful now. Sadly, you don't. No time to find one and you're a little impatient, hence you opt to climb the rope holding the boat, ascending upward to see where it leads you.

A not difficult climb later, you do find the crane attaches to a very small sheltered platform you assume is a lookout station. And normally it seems one would come here through a door. Mustering enough power to get over there, you head on inside and down its dark stairs.

Cont.

>>2111124

You descend to a very dim room with your hands close to your weapons, being sure that your feet tread lighter than a cat's, listening, focused. You stay in the shadows of the entrance, peeking the interior to see several men and boys say eleven, are staying watch at a window partially covered by some drapes. The only light in the room comes from the ballroom lights.

You wish you had time to analyze the room and how it fits in with the ballroom, but no time. You spot Pixy all fine as he moves away from the window, saying, “I don't see him.”

“But he'll come?” One asks.

“I don't know, okay? I don't his schedule and I didn't agree to this. Mind if I go now?”

“Hey, Pixy, my man.” This voice you know from before. “You really shouldn't stick around on this boat. Once we show this guy to heaven, this boat will be going to hell. And you're an old friend. Think about it. We'll get out of this crappy mess alive and well. Hopefully richer too. But I know our employers will be very happy after this is done with. They always pay well. More so since this is a two bird, one stone situation.”

“So... you're not taking the ship?”

“Nah, fuck it. Sink it with the dogs and everything now. Our group doesn't need the Green Dragoon alive anyway. Competition and shit.” You're the target for assassination. Oh, oh, oh! “Now we need this guy to come and zzziipp! Won't know what'll hit him. Won't hear a thing thanks to these babies. I'll get you one Pixy.”

“No thanks. I'm not one for being infantry.”

“Suit yourself. So, eyepatch... eyepatch...”

“Why does he wear one?” Another man inquires aloud.

“Who cares? Oh, make sure to headshot him since he has armor like we do.” Ho, they know about you. Maybe from Pixy, maybe not.

>Personal negotiation time! You don't fucking kill them, in exchange, they fucking drop their shit and leave on their boat alive. NOW. Not you Pixy, you know he's mostly innocent.
>Let's have a bloody negotiation! Sounds fabulous that YOU throw your knife at the farthest unlucky bastard in that corner and you hold the closest one hostage with your guns out. Oh, and the hostage isn't going to live. But maybe the others will after sacrificing two of their boys. So faggots, war or peace?

If either fails from the dice, you'll end up with a disadvantage if it becomes a fight. Less so for the second.

>Ten to one. That's almost cheating in YOUR favor. If fighting is sure to result in victory, then you must fight! -Sun Tzu
>If they're looking for you, then you can just wait it out. When they get tired enough, time to counter assassinate them.
>Oh you're feeling very evil. Sabotage their boat, find a way to make them flee to it, say a fire. And a slow watery death for them as the ship sails away! Hahaha! Sounds good.

>>2111142
>Let's have a bloody negotiation! Sounds fabulous that YOU throw your knife at the farthest unlucky bastard in that corner and you hold the closest one hostage with your guns out. Oh, and the hostage isn't going to live. But maybe the others will after sacrificing two of their boys. So faggots, war or peace?

>Oh you're feeling very evil. Sabotage their boat, find a way to make them flee to it, say a fire. And a slow watery death for them as the ship sails away! Hahaha! Sounds good.

>>2111142
>Let's have a bloody negotiation! Sounds fabulous that YOU throw your knife at the farthest unlucky bastard in that corner and you hold the closest one hostage with your guns out. Oh, and the hostage isn't going to live. But maybe the others will after sacrificing two of their boys. So faggots, war or peace?


>Oh you're feeling very evil. Sabotage their boat, find a way to make them flee to it, say a fire. And a slow watery death for them as the ship sails away! Hahaha! Sounds good

Rolled 57 (1d100)

>Let's have a bloody negotiation!
>Except it's a trap.

Pixy is safe and somewhat held against his will at the moment. He'll have to endure as you have other ideas for dealing with this lot. Sneaking back where you came, you return to the lifeboat and decide to do some examining before you do some trouble to it. Finding food, liquids, things that they don't need. Of course, they don't need this diary, ammunition, vodka, wine, water canteens or these plans or this and that! It's junk, so you assist the enemy is relinquishing their materials and keep them.

For the boat, you make weak points so it'll slowly collapse when weighted and in the water. With your loot in hand, you come up with an idea for that vodka bottle. It'll be a reward for this whole matter dealing with such these saints. An intense one that's burning with Heaven's light to show your appreciation.

Sneaking back into the backroom stage, the men inside are more annoyed that they're stuck here, but they haven't changed their positions nor do they look behind you. Works in your favor in sneaking past their back to the interior stair entrance. Yes, they can't run here if you're here. You convert the vodka to a firebomb and ready it to be thrown on your right hand, later getting your knife on your left and a revolver holster in a quick draw spot.

Now or never.

You light a match and get the rag burning, once it's lit you charge into the room and toss it to the farthest two patrons, the smell of fire is welcoming. Knife in hand and unmerciful, you leap to the nearest meat shield and thrust the bayonet into that person's heart, undoubtedly damaging to the blade and the heart, but for assurance sake, you plunge it upward as possible to get a deeper stab by using the man's weight against him.

The firebomb hits its mark and hurls flames around and on the two fellows and they scream, cry and yell. The others notice the fiery spectacle with a moment of surprise that soon disappears as their eyes eventually converge on you. Just what you needed to begin negotiations.

“Gentlemen! I see you did not answer my note! So I came in person! I HOLD TWO CHOICES FOR YOU. WAR OR PEACE. DECIDE NOW.” You draw your revolver in a swift motion, making it cocked while simultaneously cutting into your meat shield's ribs as the dead can't hold their weight. You're ready for either one. Are they?

>PEACE OR WAR. Veteran Mercenaries decision base on a dice roll, 1d100.

Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>2111828

File: 1509497310911.jpg (553 KB, 477x724)

553 KB JPG

Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>2111828
I'm sort of hoping they choose war.

>>2111873

If you really want to, you can vote for backstabbing them when they run

>>2111876
Nah, we're far too British to kill a retreating enemy, that's more of a German thing. Plus we've already doomed them to a rather horrifying fate once they reach their boat.

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>2111828
Oh boy

>>2111828

“What will it be friends? Think you'll win even if I'm gone?” The outsiders are acting up as flames and smoke attract attention. They have only seconds to act. Better make the right.... and they ran away without a word to you, their loud steps in all the noise they make, aside from the on fire ones. Not Pixy though. Good on him, you didn't need to tell him your sabotage efforts. The dying on fire guys try to run but eventually they pass out from the lack of oxygen partway up the steps. Too bad, it only would have been more painful if they lived.

You holster your sidearm, in a strange sense of gladness and unhappiness when doing so, and you yank free your knife and push the dead man aside before checking on Pixy. “Everything alright man?”

Taking a few steps away from the fanning fire, Pixy gives a meek thumbs up and looks more or less fine, “I'm fine. Just... let's get out of here.”

“After I loot this man.” And you get to work, after that, you let the firemen take care of things.

That said, you don't leave leave since you need to explain the occurrences that lead to you doing what you did and make excuses, you take great pride in giving Pixy your loot and sending him back to do whatever a free Pixy does. Additionally, from the rear lookout to the lifeboat, you can hear the men that escaped fucking drowning but just barely over the waves and wind. Soon, they're gone. Either they're in under the water or the ship traveled too far so you're not able to relish in your work further.

Tis fine. Pixy is alive, you got some loot, the enemy is no longer a current threat, and you live! Heading back, you give your account to the Duke's people and the Captain, doing a little admonishing that they aren't protecting their passengers yet you'll keep it quiet and go with whatever lie they want to not panic the passengers. They chose electrical failure. The bodies and the fire, not your problem anymore.

You return to a normal stance, not being so stressed now that the situation has been resolved... partly with violence and talk. Best of both worlds. As what to do now...

>Head back to the party and engage in some good old eat food and drink liquor. On secondhand, no liquor tonight. But who to socialize with? (Choose 1)
>>Princess and friends. Let them know that your problems have been fixed and they need not worry a thing.
>>Family. Who is family? What is family? Okay, you're not that dumb. So who's the top man or woman?
>An excellent time to get a massage now!
>Shot the shit back with you people and go through your acquired items. Maybe you'll learn more about these former living mercenaries.

>>2111961
>Head back to the party and engage in some good old eat food and drink liquor. On secondhand, no liquor tonight. But who to socialize with?
>Princess and friends. Let them know that your problems have been fixed and they need not worry a thing.

Would rather not miss the party. I'm sure we can either tweak someone's nose or horrify them with our casual cruelty(?).

>>2111961
>Head back to the party and engage in some good old eat food and drink liquor. On secondhand, no liquor tonight. But who to socialize with? (Choose 1)
>>Princess and friends. Let them know that your problems have been fixed and they need not worry a thing.

>>2111961
>Head back to the party.
>Princess and friends.

A quick refresher in the lavatory and you're good as can be. No blood on you, the burning smell is mostly gone. Enough to meet the Princess and her friends proudly and inform her of a successful report, detail pending most likely water-downed. You come back to the hall as more people filter inside and go to their assigned seats all happy and slightly worried, but the fire's gone and the crew intend to keep it that way. No sign of major panic from the guests.

You head straight for Charlotte and friends who greet you again with varied expressions. “Evening, Browning. We received a note from you-”

Charlotte begins which you interrupt to announce, “It's been taken care of. Completely and in a positive manner. I assure it.”

It catches her quite off guard, “Done? What do you mean?”

“Everything is fine. FINE. It's all hush hush now.” You put on a small smile that doesn't even match your true joy in dealing with some brigands.

“The fire, was it you?” Ange asks to which you show no change in your posture.

“Everything is FINE.” They don't need to know any more than the situation has been resolved in a semi-peaceful, permanent manner.

A neutral stare from her and she closes her eyes, “... I see.”

With your report made, your business with them is done, time for some relaxation! “Then if you need me, I'll be in my seat.” You bow and are about to leave when Chise tugs your sleeve.

One sniff and she declares to all, “You smell of fire and blood.”

“An astute observation.” You knew it wouldn't be enough unless you change your clothes. Ah, whatever. Oh right! Your blade hasn't been rinsed.

“Just what did you do?” Dorothy mutters that you reply by shrugging.

“Mr. Browning. Please have a seat right here.” But there is no seat your Highness. “I would be most pleased if you would stay at our table.” … You get the message and acquiesce to her will. You move your seat over and take your place next to Ange as there's no other room available. Beatrice gives you a mild form of a dirty eye, while the others are more cautious. “I haven't seen you all day. What have you been up to?”

>Tell her the truth to a point. They don't need to know how cruel you can be.
>”Oh boring stuff, like preventing myself from being assassinated. Helping my friend and client out. Things like that. All of that has been fixed so no worries.” Any more detail is unnecessary. How was their day?
>Take out bayonet. Unsheathe, show, sheathe. That should be good enough for them to know your bloody business.
>”Figuring out why I'm being targeted for a hit and why this ship was endangered. I didn't have time to think, only act. I'll report you later on my findings, okay?” Really, who has the nerve to try to assassinate you? You'd like to know the people behind that.
>Tell nothing but the truth as the facts are undisputed and tell them to keep it a secret.

>>2112267
>Tell her the truth to a point. They don't need to know how cruel you can be.

>>2112267
>>”Figuring out why I'm being targeted for a hit and why this ship was endangered. I didn't have time to think, only act. I'll report you later on my findings, okay?” Really, who has the nerve to try to assassinate you? You'd like to know the people behind that.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

1. Truth/lie
2. Real talk, you don't know.

>>2112267
>Tell her the truth to a point. They don't need to know how cruel you can be.

You play through today's events, concluding that everything was pretty mild until the whole sabotage and letting them go to their guaranteed deaths. Heh heh heh kekekekekek. Don't mention that. You get your pipe ready and put on a thinking pose, then answering, “Got wrapped up in some other mercenary band that held my friend against his will and the matter was handled partially peacefully.” You motion to the hidden third room, “Mostly. They ran and some blood was split. And fire. It's okay now. Though I don't know the whys of this mess, I solved the problem without a doubt. That's my day. So how's all of yours? Good? Ah! You owe me more money, Ange!” How could you forget! If there's trouble, more ka-ching for you. And you didn't start it either!

“I'll see what the Black Lizard Planet can come up with.” Is Ange's frosty answer. What did you expect?

“Hm. I'll hold you to it.” You continue having a small smile as you lie back and smoke your pipe. This sense of bliss, nice. To a new topic not about you, “Anything interesting? Princess?”

“Royal business all day for me. Couldn't have any friends. Nothing exciting like yours.” Charlotte confesses with a hint of melancholy. “Ange? I don't think I heard of your day.”

You sense a faint change to Ange's disposition as some young male nobles pass by“... Nothing happened, Princess. I was exploring the ship alone. It was a little interesting but nothing really. Dorothy, how was your day?”

“Drinking!” The older girl professes without regret. “And maybe a little of work. I saw you earlier Mr.” And you don't care to recall. “Made some new friends?” She teases.

“Future business partners if things go well.” You amend.

“All work for you, huh?” Dorothy says sadly.

Though you don't get why that's sad, more annoying than anything, you turn to the instigator adjusting her glasses, “I wonder why?”

Ange has this perfect smile when she meets your gaze, “Oh, Mr. Browning, you should really take it easy. It's a vacation.” Cheeky girl. “So Chise, did you do something fun?”

Chise is full of pride when she tells her day, “I trained my sword. It's more different than on land since this ship keeps swaying.” That's.... fun?

For YOU, probably. You, probably need to do it yourself. Anyway, you need to compliment or say something, “Another hard worker to the list.” Last is Beatrice and given that you spoke already, damn, “What were you up to Beatrice?”

The little girl turns her partly away from you and downward, “Waiting for her Highness to finish her business. And some annoying things happened.” The last sentence she dejectedly mutters. That's a short summary of present company that's willing to share.

Cont.

>>2112549

The dinging of the dinner bell and the party goers returning to their seat is the signal you need to depart to yours. Except when you try to, “Mr. Browning. Stay.” Why is the Princess making you stay?

“Uh, okay.” Not that you'll lodge a complaint. It just causes the waiters to adjust for you moving to a Royal table but otherwise nothing but a crap ton of gossip. You hear it. From both men and women, boy and girls. Okay, not hear, it's the atmosphere.

It's some minor talk, not enough to cause a massive stir. That is until a beige curly hair girl comes to the table. The biggest thing you see as she comes, she's wearing an army or hunter style of pants. “Ahem, sorry for disturbing you and your companions, your Highness. I am here to give a message to my...” The new girl turns to eye you with a visible discomfort, “cousin. Ugh, Aunt Bri wants you to come to our table.”

… So she's your... cousin. That's... family. You suppose.

>... Guess you should do this family reunion thing. How not ready are you?
>Tell your 'cousin' to tell... fuck it go with a note. Anyway, you don't want to do this reunion thing right now. Write it kindly.
>Before you go to your blood relatives, you should inform the others about your other circumstances if the Princess hasn't. She hasn't though since she's kind. Oh, this is going to be awkward.
>Now you really don't want to be here. Hang on, you're a free man. You can do what you want! And you want out of here! Sayonara! You're checking in with Pixy and company.

>>2112551
>>... Guess you should do this family reunion thing. How not ready are you?

>>2112551
>... Guess you should do this family reunion thing. How not ready are you?
Fffffffffine.

>>2112551
>>>... Guess you should do this family reunion thing. How not ready are you?
But mooooom, I wanna annoy my forgotten childhood friend some more.

>>2112551
>... Guess you should do this family reunion thing. How not ready are you?

So you should go? Yeah, you'll do that. “Excuse me, ladies.” You bow and follow your... shorter cousin without a word. Neither you or she bother to make conversation when you reach the Wellington table, the three you barely know are there and five more unfamiliar faces.

“I'm back.” She states nonchalantly to them and takes her seat while yours is clearly not here. So you're standing there. And standing.

“Welcome back, Anne. And to you too.” Grandfather then smacks the hell out of the man wearing glasses to his right. “Get him a chair.”

“Uh! Use mine for now.” The young server gets up and runs off like there are rabid rabbits after him. Either way, you take his spot at the table. You gather a semblance of who's here, Mother is across from you, Grandfather to your left, as is Grandmother, your cousin is at your two, and the rest you don't know a damn thing.

One of the reasons why you shut your lips tight as the rest are doing the same. It's mother that starts the conversation, “Everyone, the man that has joined us is my son. Please, introduce yourselves to him.” Thank her for now making you do it.

A man slightly stouter but the same height as you, speaks up, “Then that means you're my nephew! Arthur Charles Wellesley. Uncle Charles is fine. My wife, Lilian Maud, your aunt. And you've met your cousin, Anne. And these here are our head servants. I assume you know of your grandparents.”

“Um, yes Uncle.” That sounded as weird as you thought it would.

“Good!” He smiles which goes away when he turns to his daughter, “Anne, you said hi, yes?”

With an annoyed face, she turns to you and acknowledges with, “Hi, cousin.”

“Hi, cousin.” Less weird than saying, Uncle.

Though it doesn't please your Aunt or Uncle, going by their faces, but they let it go, “Nephew, please, introduce yourself.” Uh-oh.

>Mom. Help. Mon! Help. Visible distress that you don't know your birth name.
>Outright state how weird this is and you sincerely hope that you're not the only one feeling that. More or less to get it out there but to also forestall time so you can think. Fuck, do you even know?
>Tell them you don't remember your real name, but you can at least let them know your other identity, Henry Adams Browning. Also, give them your cards. What? You can speak confidently about business, not family.
>Topic change! What does dear Uncle and Aunt do? Also get to know the servants.
>Write-in.

>>2113128
>"Well, I never knew my birth name. Browning is the name I've gone by since... Oh, since at least my army days... Most recently I've begun adding the first name 'Henry' to that as well."
Basically bring up our professional name without showing our business card.

>>2113128
>>2113137
Backing this. Probably best to not mention our warehousing empire yet. They might ask for a family discount or something!

>>2113137
>>2113128
Let's go with the write in. Tell them to thank mother you never learned your name.

>>2113128
>"Well, I never knew my birth name. Browning is the name I've gone by since... Oh, since at least my army days... Most recently I've begun adding the first name 'Henry' to that as well."

You settle down by scratching your hand underneath the table, slowly formulating what to say to these relatives. An omission of truth it is! “Ugh, well, I never knew my birth name.” That raises some eyebrows but you proceed, “I don't recall Mom and Dad ever saying it. But I've been going with Browning as my last name for a while now. Around the time I served if my memory is right. Recently, I added Henry as my first name.” You lay it out there for them to digest it, hopefully, it's good enough.

From the looks of it, not good enough, except for your grandfather, “You said you served?”

A chance? You decide to indulge in his curiosity, “Kingdom's Army. Short time though.”

“Where?”

“Africa.”

“I see.” There's a sense of respect for him to you, albeit very tiny. “So without even knowing it, army blood is in your veins. Hmm. Acceptable. When did you sign up?”

Oh, the truth will just burn but you can't think of a good alternative, “Uh, fourteen.” That causes some coughing and disbelief. “A reason why when I return to base they kicked me out. People that could advocate me were all gone then. I had to survive in the jungle until I could get back home.”

“Heh, kicked out.” You cousin mutters and stifles a laugh. It's only her that's laughing, the others are more perplexed by your service.

“Well, I'm sure it's a strange journey you can tell another day.” Your Uncle thankfully saves you from explaining more. “Who do you do now?”

“Odd jobs. I do what I know. What do you do?” You reverse it to finally stop talking about your past.

“I also serve in the Army! But mostly I manage land and my estates. We're doing very well, except the whole Commonwealth took a portion.” You see his face reddening from the thoughts.

“Not here, dear.” Your Aunt's voice is enough to settle him down.

“Quite. Today's business is celebrating a lost relative. Here here! You too sis! Come on.” His face was full of cheer when it suddenly goes plain. “Huh, who are you?”

“Excuse me, guests.” Butler. “I need to speak with someone.”

>Yes! You'll go. It must be important if Butler is here. Excuse yourself.
>Turn Butler away. Sadly, this is not the time. Oh, you'll need an excuse. Write-in or rely on a future dice roll.
>If it's not too private, you can have Butler explain it here.
>Hand signal, 'we don't know each other'. Sperate private, public, and family life until you can handle it.

>>2113329
>Yes! You'll go. It must be important if Butler is here. Excuse yourself.
I wonder if our cousin will be so smug when she learns we're the Green Dragoon.

>>2113329
>>Yes! You'll go. It must be important if Butler is here. Excuse yourself.

File: 0923987253798-2679236789.png (1.95 MB, 1920x1080)

1.95 MB PNG

>>2113329
>Yes! You'll go. It must be important if Butler is here. Excuse yourself.

Butler's appearance marks an important hour, if he needs you then you should go. “Excuse me.” You stand and immediately head to the exit with your associate, not bothering to tell your relatives why. They don't need to know. Coming outside to the dark sky filled with tiny stars, contrasting to the bright deck, you ask Butler the situation, “What's the news?”

“I think it's best if everyone was together.” So a meeting it is then. Butler leads to the bar from earlier, still having the closed sign on the front. Inside, Foch, Kid, Bruce, and Pixy are at the bar shooting the shit.

Pixy is the first to greet you with a wave. “Browning! We found, uh, a lot.” He moves enough of his body to show you several books and papers on the counter.

“Lot of what? Specifically?”

Richard picks up the slack and shows you a coat of arms you don't recognize,“Ottomans.”

What? That Muslim country in the east? “The piss they're doing here?”

“Trying to kill you,” Bruce states and pours you a whiskey. Okay, you're going to need a drink for this. “Looks like you were busy today.”

You gulp the whole thing and tap for another one, “I know. So give me a summary. Someone please.”

Bruce pours your shot and continues, “The Ottomans wanted to either take this ship or sink it. None of the material said the reason, but they were using adamant that mercenaries do it. Also mentioned a thing called submarines. Then they discovered you on board so the job adjusted for it.”

“How nice of them.” Fucking bastards. This wasn't supposed to be work work work, ugh. “Say, how you get this stuff?”

Butler gives the explanation this time,“While you were at the ball, I took a look at some special rooms thanks to Bruce's information.”

You flip through some of the info, or tried to, part of the writing is in English and the other Arabic or some such. “Nice. All this in an hour? Well done.” Were the Ottomans trying to cause instability among the Albion and the other European powers? If so, they made a huge mistake of trying to kill you. YOU. FUCKING YOU. Makes you want to go to war! In fact, you can if you really wanted to. You have a casus belli for it. “Any chance of someone translating this?”

You wave a page that has a different language when the entrance door bell chimes. “Gentlemen.” This voice... Duke's residence? You turn to see a brown girl sporting glasses and in garbs fitting for fighting come in. “Mr. Donald, report.”

“A friend of ours mistakenly did our job. That said, he was also the target of tonight's assassination.” Right, Bruce is in with Normandy.

The newcomer nods to Bruce then she turns to you stoically and slightly bows to you, “Mr. Browning. The Duke owes a large apology to you. As a guest, you should not have been harmed by this event.”

Cont.

>>2113582

Damn, right you shouldn't have! Doesn't matter if it's Ange or the Queen or Duke or anyone! Also, to hell with the Ottomans and the brigands! At least one of which will not come back gain. You look over the pages and then to her, comprehending the nature of this meeting, “You're here for these, aren't you?” You raise a book this time to her and get a confirmation.

“That's is correct. Those papers hold a lot of information about today. However, I know that you and your people are in possession of it. The Duke is willing to reward you for turning those over to him as well as reimbursing your work and time dealing with this.”

“I need a number, Miss. I don't do killing charity even when my life is on the line.” You place the book down and cross your arms while giving Bruce a cursory glance. He shows no signs of giving a care about what's in front of him and also refilled your glass.

“At the minimum ten pounds to all of your friends and you for the work.” Kid's eyes bulge out while Foch looks to the papers then to you with surprise. Yes, dangerous work requires dangerous pay. More on your take than the others. “For you, I would assume at least a hundred pounds for your troubles.”

Hundred, that's a nice number. Yet is that really worth today's bullshitery?

>Wash your hands of this crap. Give the evidence and let the Duke pay you. You're done with the Muslim empire, for now at any rate.
>You want a contract. No, all of us want a contract. Your work will be rewarded! Hell, you'll write it out right now.
>You're feeling a little bit of kindness and cruelty in your soul. Your companions can get paid, you though, chalk it up as several favors owed by the Duke. Money is nice, but power is better.
>Your inhumanity knows no bounds. Tell her to put a hold on the whole giving the package away. First, you're going to exact some personal vengeance on these Ottomans. Kill their spies. Then do some negotiations with the ambassador on this ship. Yes, you do know one is here. So the question is, War or Peace? What do you prefer in extorting them for peace? (Write-in. Gold, oil, etc.) And war is war so yeah.
>Write-in. Questions, hold the negotiations.

>>2113584
>Wash your hands of this crap. Give the evidence and let the Duke pay you. You're done with the Muslim empire, for now at any rate.

>>2113584
>>Your inhumanity knows no bounds. Tell her to put a hold on the whole giving the package away. First, you're going to exact some personal vengeance on these Ottomans. Kill their spies. Then do some negotiations with the ambassador on this ship. Yes, you do know one is here. So the question is, War or Peace? What do you prefer in extorting them for peace? (Write-in. Gold, oil, etc.) And war is war so yeah.
Hmm, obviously money, gold bars to be more specific. And weapons, plus the schematics for those weapons so we can make more. And maybe one of those submarine things, if it's a thing we've never even heard of then it's sure to be interesting!

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>Not your business anymore
>Explotation for the win

>>2113584
>Your inhumanity knows no bounds.

You thought not. You need more, much more. The Ottomans needed to pay and you will make them. “Just a moment, Miss. I need to hang on to these for a little while. I have personal business to do with the Turks. Let me deal with them and we can parlay. Now that I think about it, I can do that right now. Gents, Miss.” You internalize the most damning English evidence to mind and begin scheming on what you could get out of this business.

“Hang on, what are you planning?” The Duke's assistant asks, her hand reaching for a hidden item.

“Some exploitation. It'll be quick. I promise.” You say not waiting for her while wearing a massive smile when you leave exit, only finding that she's following you now. Like you care. Returning to the ball, you easily mark the Turk ambassador and head straight to him. At this point, the Duke's dog stays away and you casually take a chair to the shock of many sitting around the white turban and robed man with an impressive goatee.

Some foreign language reaches from the nobodies your ears, angry, it's all nothing compared to your glare and smile to the ambassador. You feel him shiver. You see him shiver. And he tells his people to shut up and they do. Once it's peaceful, you lean in and calmly state, “You tried to kill the Green Dragoon.” Noticeably he leans against his chair and you continue, “I can say, he won that fight. He asks you to make a choice,” You clasp your hand together in glee and lean back, “War or peace. War, I think, will be a very, very, big one. With all this evidence, I cannot wait to see how many will flock to the call. Or peace, costs only five thousand kilograms of gold and that Mauser rifle license. Now now, you need only say one word and it is one that you choose. War. Peace. I leave it to you.”

Almost immediately when you're done speaking, he unsteadily answers, “Peace.” It's almost a shame.

But that's alright. “I'll pick it up next week. It better be at the embassy.” And you get up and leave without any trouble except for a lot of stares from the party goers. But this negotiation was so easy! Makes you feel REALLY REALLY GREAT! IF ONLY YOU DIDN'T NEED TO KEEP YOUR WORD! But that's fine. Water under the bridge, unless they don't pay.

You pass by the Duke's woman and together you both head back to the bar and continue where left off. Except you're not feeling generous now. “So then to-”

“I'll send a copy of all of this to the Duke another day. I have need of this material at the moment. We can negotiate a lower price later. No fear, I will keep these safe and sound. Bye-bye, Miss.” And you harshly shoo her off while still wearing that killing smile.

Cont.

>>2113836

“Wait, what did you do that for!?” Richard asks completely unaware of your doings in the ball or what you're thinking of.

“Browning, what's going on?” Conroy joins in the inquiry group.

Downing your undrunk shot, you declare, “I fucking made the Turks pay up. A lot up. And I can see them holding to it too.”

Your words don't relieve the tension your associates have. “Wait, Browning, you did what?” Pixy stops Bruce from refilling your glass to get an answer from you.

“Pixy, Pixy, buddy. People don't fuck with Mentat and get away with it. EVEN AN EMPIRE. GOD, I wish they had chosen war. But it's alright, we got paid in gold for peace. A wonderful peace that they're paying. You should feel great now that we're richer than ever.”

“G-gold!? How much?” Foch stutters and shivers from what you're saying.

“I said five thousand kilograms. That's... a ton? It's a lot anyway.” You can't be asked to math now, it's happy hour now!

“THOUSAND!?”
“Ton? A ton of gold?”

You nod to both and gulp some warm vodka this time. “Kek, can't believe the Ottomans would even think to kill the Green Dragooooonnnn.” You need to lie on the counter, oh, nice and cool wood.

Butler pats your back and gently shakes to rouse you semi-awake, “Browning, how did you phrase your threat?”

“The Green Dragoon is very upset. So choose war or peace. The emissary chose peace. I foresee him following his promise. And if they don't pay, wwwwaaarrrrrrrr. My very own. Not anyone's...”

“It would have been better if you could tell people.” Bruce comments, which you find oddly funny given he left the Continental with little warning but then again, why would you care what he does now? He is a free man too.

“Act in the moment. Had to be done.” You answer honestly. Oh, are you forgetting something?

>Naaaaahhh. Hang out with present company. Drink and have some joy.
>Ugh, you will make copies! Right now! And several of them! And sell them! Heh, hahahahaha, you might get that war anyway.
>Oh, her Highness. Better make sure she's safe and sound and pretty. And drink some more! Celebrate your extortion tonight!
>Family. Ah fuck, now you're sobered up. Shit, how do you explain running out now? Write-in.

>>2113838
>>Family. Ah fuck, now you're sobered up. Shit, how do you explain running out now? Write-in.
>"Important international negotiations. Diplomats and such, very high-level stuff."

>>2113846
Sure, supportan. Let's impress the family.

>>2113838
>Family. Ah fuck, now you're sobered up. Shit, how do you explain running out now? Write-in.
>"Important international negotiations. Diplomats and such, very high-level stuff."

All your happy feelings accumulated in your being disperses the moment when you remember your family. Ah, cracking pots, you should go back to them. Your smile changes to your normal neutral expression and you get off of the counter. Bruce sees the change in you but doesn't say a word, it's Pixy that says something, “Hey, you were happy and now you're all gloomy. What the hell?”

“I thought about my family and sobered right up.” There's a hanging silence when you said that sentence. Right, you didn't tell anyone. “I'll tell you guys later, but I gotta go back. Cheers. I'll see you all tomorrow.” You click your empty shot glass to everyone and dread the not long walk back to the ballroom. First, you needed an excuse for leaving the party and that's pretty much what you only needed.

Given you did some very iron handed diplomacy, you think of a good enough alibi to tell everyone, heck it works since it'll explain why you know the Princess and why you went to the Ottoman table. If they ask that is. You stroll to the Wellington table, noting one extra seat for you next to your mother. She sees you quickly and motions you to hurry up and sit down, the food's already there.

On putting your ass on the cushion, mother starts her interrogation, “Where were you? You were here for a second, then you took off. Why were-”

You raise a hand to stop your mom from pestering you further so you can give her the answer, “Mom, please. Diplomatic work. Very important international negotiations going on. Diplomats and such, high-level stuff that I shouldn't discuss if I want to keep working.”

“Diplomat?” Cousin Anne repeats the word with confusion.

“You're a diplomat?” One of the servers adds to the question list.

“More like a glorified courier and I shouldn't say any more. Let's have a nice dinner.” Then on you manage to bullshit your way whenever you talked but mostly keep silent as certain people give out speeches on stage or Uncle ranted about the Commonwealth and Jews, the servants speak to themselves. Least the food and tea were good for consumption.

…

Cont.

>>2113942

Little you and the Princess munch on nuts and assorted snacks you grabbed from one of the abandoned stores. She hasn't said a word, only content in watching the fire from a hole from the wall. As if she's possessed. An hour goes and the bright flames die out as does the castle itself, no longer being viewable from where you are. Then does she slump against the wall asleep.

You're also tired from today, the long tour, the fire, dragging her from the pit all the way to here, and the cold is settling in. You fiddle some things in the room, trying to find some way to get warmer, but nothing. There are only broken bits of wood and stone, no blankets or to be had. You notice her shivering while you hold yours in.

You put her in a corner with the least amount of crap and lie down next to her. Sleepy, yet the cold saps any warmth your body tries to make. Unacceptable. You get up and go out to the street, searching this time for a store that has clothes and blankets. The mob hasn't disbanded, so you loot as much as your body can carry. Returning to the hideout, you pile what you brought into a makeshift bed and sleep on it. Better, much better than the floor.

Morning comes with a loud explosion, shocking you and the Princess into waking with fright. “Huh!? What's that?”

You peek out the openings and find nothing strange, yet you can hear far away yelling and wooden whacks and metal thuds. Danger, you think. Grabbing her, you leave. Leave London, you had to. Staying would be bad. Meet with parents. Get away from here.

New things on the street, dead bodies. Need to hurry. Go west. “Where are we going?”

“We need to leave. This place is bad now. We can't stay or we'll be like those ones there. Come on. Run!” You run west like your parents suggested in times like this. No time to think, only to act.

…

Dawn of a new day.

>Wake up as YOU.
>Last night was okay. You feel better since you slept in a real bed. Ahh, today's the last day. So much for this vacation.
>Decavorite morning. Ah, shit.

>>2113971
>>Last night was okay. You feel better since you slept in a real bed. Ahh, today's the last day. So much for this vacation.

>>2113971
>Last night was okay. You feel better since you slept in a real bed. Ahh, today's the last day. So much for this vacation.

>>2113971
>Last night was okay. You feel better since you slept in a real bed. Ahh, today's the last day. So much for this vacation.

File: CRhoRsU.png (680 KB, 1300x2000)

680 KB PNG

>>2113971
>Last night was okay. You feel better since you slept in a real bed. Ahh, today's the last day. So much for this vacation.

You wake by letting out a loud, long yawn and stretching your arms to the ceiling. Nice sleep last night, for once you're in a bed. Today's the day! Back to crappy London and to your job. Your work on this ship is done. Maybe you'll get a real vacation back on land. Oh, tutoring, maybe in half a year. You do your morning thing and pack your luggage for the afternoon disembarkment now than later.

Did that in ten minutes, got the evidence all wrapped up, the weapons you aren't carrying are also stored, guess you should go out for breakfast. Up and to the deck in your nicest street clothes, you take a look to the right of the ship you can see Albion east coast all foggy and misty. Not too bad, given you can see the outline of land. No worries of this ship sailing blind. And what's this? The Princess all by herself?

“Morning.” You call to her as custom should dictate.

For once she doesn't have a fake smile on her face when she looks to you, “Oh, good morning, Mr. Browning.” She looks away, farther to her left then back to you, this time with the faux expression. “Today, we coming back home.”

While you don't necessarily agree with that statement, you nod to it all the same. “Hm. I see that your friends aren't here.”

“Oh, they had personal businesses to deal with. Did you know that Ange is really popular with the boys?” That sounds so insanely ludicrous that you have to not laugh at hearing it.

Imagine the boys' faces ever seeing past her facade, or realizing the truth, or the fact that she'd reject all of them outright. Ah, you shouldn't smile at that. “I'll assume that it'll end poorly for the other gender. What about you? What are you up to?”


“Nothing. Just looking at Albion.” That's nice. You look too at what she's staring at, seeing no wall, no set boundaries aside from the naturally occurring. There's a small dock, houses only yay big, forest, boats. A small village.

Cont.

>>2115868

Must be lively and peaceful there. In Kingdom territory, if your geography skill is correct. “I spy a village over there. You see it?” You say to try and get a conversation going.

“Huh? There's one out there?” You watch her focus increase before she gives up trying to see what she can't, “Shame, I can't see it. Or are you joking with me?”

“No, there's one out there. Right there, past the fog but it might be too hard to see.”

You sense a truer smile form on her, “I'll take your word for it. Are you heading to the breakfast hall?”

“I am. Care to join me?” You offer but get a refusal gesture.

“At a later time, if that's alright. I want to enjoy the ocean sun some more.” Fair.

>Have something to ask or tell her? Write-in. (Limited to three)
>>Ask about what she thinks of the Wellesley family. As for you... (Write-in or: Nothing. Awkward. Prefer lying to their faces.)
>>If she really wants to know about yesterday, you'll tell if she can keep a secret and can stomach cruelty. If she can't, you won't tell.
>>Small talk about Albion. What does she think of it? Commonwealth and Kingdom are both acceptable topics. You... (Write-in or: Dislike. Hate. Powderkeg. Good for business.)
>>Talk about her friends. They are her friends, right? Anyone you want to focus on? Reason why? (Ange, Chise, Dorothy, Beatrice)
>>Ask for the truth to why she wanted to be tutored. While you believe some of her answers before, you feel like she's hiding something. (Choose: Don't press the matter or PRESS THE BUTTON)
>Leave her be. You'll go on ahead.

>>2115871
>>Ask about what she thinks of the Wellesley family. As for you... (Write-in or: Nothing. Awkward. Prefer lying to their faces.)
As for our opinion of the family:
>"They seem nice enough. Save for my cousin. Seems to have a chip on her shoulder or something..."
Then lead into:
>>Ask for the truth to why she wanted to be tutored. While you believe some of her answers before, you feel like she's hiding something. (Choose: Don't press the matter or PRESS THE BUTTON)
>PRESS THE BUTTON

>>2115871

>>If she really wants to know about yesterday, you'll tell if she can keep a secret and can stomach cruelty. If she can't, you won't tell.

I mean, we are supposed to be teaching her stuff.

>>2115871
>>Ask about what she thinks of the Wellesley family. As for you... (Write-in or: Nothing. Awkward. Prefer lying to their faces.)
>"They seem nice enough. Save for my cousin. Seems to have a chip on her shoulder or something..."
>>Ask for the truth to why she wanted to be tutored. While you believe some of her answers before, you feel like she's hiding something. (Choose: Don't press the matter or PRESS THE BUTTON)
>PRESS THE BUTTON

>>2117257
>>2115871
This

>>2115868
>>2115876
>>2117257

“Guess I'll do the same.” The sun's rays aren't so hot, balances nicely with the cool breeze. You take up leaning your back on the tall railings, hmm, very nice, the wind's blowing on your sides. This may be a good time to chat with her Highness. No particular reason. “May I ask your thoughts on the Wellesley family, Princess?”

There's a certain interest from her eyes that you see and a sly smile comes forth as she speaks, “The holders of the Wellington title, right? That you happen to be related to?”

“Found out recently. And you were there too. But, uh, what's their lot in the Kingdom? I admit I know nothing aside from the first and famous Duke of Wellington that bested France's Napoleon.” Twice. It was twice.

“A short lesson then.” She says cheerfully, “The men have been joining the army and have been faithful to Albion. And that's all!”

“All?” Wait, really? That is short, then again, the First Duke's time was a hundred years ago.

“Hm, they are a noble family thanks to the First Duke, but from then on, they're not drastically famous. They supported the Royals during the revolution and that cost them much blood. They're a small family now, but they are respected in person.”

That's not singing high praises. “So I can assume the titles are for show and they're not a powerhouse.” That's kinda nice to know actually. Also, a shame. Not that you needed a powerful family. Then again, they must have connections. Gek, politics.

“That's very harsh and I wouldn't put them that way.” Familial ties aren't your thing anyway. But that might change in the future so you merely shrug in reply. “Then what do you think of your family?”

For the two times, you met them, pretty decent but that might only be appearances, “They seem nice enough. Save for my cousin, she seems to have a chip on her shoulder or something.” While not antagonistic directly, you can feel the unwelcoming aura from her. “But I don't really know how to deal with them. I never got what normal people as families, be it the poor or nobles. Never was close to mine when I was a kid.”

“If you want to, I'm sure you can fix that problem and patch things up to make it less awkward.” Her Highness might have a point.

“Maybe. But I grew up, am a legal adult on my own path.” And internally messed up but don't say that. “I'll think about it. That's my mind on it.” Cavorite did not tell you about this yet you were prepared in some ways than others. “What about your family? How do you get along with them?”

“My cousins are amicable, most of the time in public.” Oh, you get where this is going.

“Your parents?”

“They're dead.” She declares calmly and without hesitation. Figures that would be the case.

Cont.

>>2118206

But that heads to your real topic of interest, “Is it one of the reasons why you hired a mercenary to tutor you?” It does beg the questions, why does a Princes employ someone like you, given some of your past that you've told? You understand if it's distant call to a job and by a middleman, but you were employed, for the time being, in person, and with her companions. So something is up than the whole self-improvement, no doubt that is true. “I'm curious to why.”

She perks her head from your question, a bit surprised, but it changes to amusement as she puts her hands behind her back and taking one step back and forward, “Didn't I tell you, I need to be better.”

You don't need a repetition of what you already know, “I get that, Princess. So don't waste your breath with the same explanation from before, I understand that. What's the real factor to why you would hire this mercenary before you? I see you with unique girls doing some unique things. I don't and will not ask about that unless it's very important in regards to me. Again, what's the real reason for why you're paying to be tutored by me? A mercenary, undoubtedly drench in one's enemy's souls. Protection? Betterment of oneself? I understand that. What else?”

You glare at her, still in your relaxed pose. She returns your stare completely unaffected by it, bearing her forged smile now, “I don't think you need to know as a worker.”

You get off the railing so you can turn to her with a proper stance and appropriately look at her like... no, she is nothing in comparison to you. The only worth, single value, she has to you is she's an assignment to be completed and assignment changes all the time. Conditions change, actions change, no matter, you stay the course and get ready for anything. “Cowardice in the face of adversary, sometimes that's alright and the correct choice, but others you need to do more than run away. You want to lie, go do it. I'll know it anyhow. All it'll do is change my opinion of you.”

A very tiny twitch from her mouth and nothing else. Charlotte keeps her eyes on you, not hesitating in saying her next words, “I need power. It's simple as that. Sorry, if that's a boring answer, but the nickname of being a Princess of Air is too true to my liking. So I need all the power I can muster by any means. I want to change Albion and I can't do it alone. That's it. My answer.”

>“Okay. That's an acceptable answer.” You find nothing wrong with that. Now, time for breakfast before your tummy pinches itself from the emptiness inside.
>Tutor lesson, a freebie, “Power is fleeting. You should instead find victory. That tends to be more noticeable and permanent. And a bonus lesson, a good reaction is nice, but action is better. Later.” Time for food!
>Shrug, you feel not it's not a lie but not a truth either. Either case, you'll leave her Highness alone now.
>Write-in. Say or ask something else.

>>2118211
>“Okay. That's an acceptable answer.”
>"And for future reference, you'll get a lot further by just being honest with me in the first place. I get enough of the whole cloak-and-dagger treatment from my enemies."

>>2118211
>“Okay. That's an acceptable answer.”
>"And for future reference, you'll get a lot further by just being honest with me in the first place. I get enough of the whole cloak-and-dagger treatment from my enemies."

“Okay. That's acceptable and for future reference, you'll get a lot further by being honest with me in the first place. I get enough of the whole cloak-and-dagger treatment from my real enemies.” You then purposefully lean to watch the waves. THEY'RE DEAD. “Well, see you later.” Your conversation's done, you step off in a hurry to suppress your mortal cravings in the time allotted.

…

You come to the middle-class lounge cause apparently, only this one serves food in enough proportions. The one upstairs only does in tiny morsels with drinks. Confound those nobles and their ways. As you scan the area for a seat, take that back, there's barely any people here so it's more who's here. Oh, you spot Ed, Hi Ed, you do in hand-waving.

“Hey, could you shut the door? The draft is taking the warm air out.” You look to the direction of the mildly agitated female voice to your right, during which you kindly do the request. Hmm, long light brown hair partially past her shoulders and a whitish blue beret is all you got. “Thank you.” A dry thanks.

But what's this? You take a step to the left and who but your cousin is sitting across from her with a small smile on her face. The two quickly trade French sentences that you can't even hope to understand. They're playing a game of chess and uh, yeah you don't know a thing. Your spying gets the attention of the two, to which there's very little surprise by your cousin who only looks up in silence to you.

Guess you should speak, “Cousin.”

“Cousin.” Neutrally and not a hint of condemnation.


“Cousin?” You take a gander at the girl your cousin is playing against. She's Sporting a dark blue coat with little frills, plain white shirt and trousers, you eye her amber eyes and then at some pamphlets and books on the table. They're in French. So she's a REPUBLICAN! Not that you have a problem with that. But her aura...

Cont.

>>2118689

“You here for something?” Cousin Ann's question breaks your focus from her opponent, you give a silent thanks to her.

“Breakfast.” Why else? Conversation? You had that already with the Princess.

“They're not serving until eight thirty.” That's news to you. Pocket watch! 8:20. Damnation! Ten minutes of waiting. “It's why we're having our little game.”

“Hm, so who's winning?” At your question, the two silently turn away from you to look deeply at one another and resume their battle of wits. You got ignored. Now what?

>Ed, the Realtor. Go have a conversation with him about the land market right now. Hey, you did get some gold, hahhahah.
>Hang out with your cousin. You should get to know about her some more if you're planning on integrating with the family. Oh, her friend too, so you're not rude to her. Write-in for talking subjects.
>Chise spotted! Have a talk with her. About... things. Beats being here. Write-in for topics.
>Loner time, go sit in a counter alone and do some reading. Luckily, you do have something to read. A dictionary! English to Arabic.
>Time to piss off and go to the upper-class place to get a breakfast. Oh, and likely drinks.

>>2118691
>Chise spotted! Have a talk with her. About... things. Beats being here. Write-in for topics.
Uhhhhh... Ah! Ask her about Japan. It's one of the few Asian countries we haven't been to. And talk swordplay and other combat-oriented things. Perhaps set up an actual concrete date and time for our sparring match thing.

>>2118691
>>Hang out with your cousin. You should get to know about her some more if you're planning on integrating with the family. Oh, her friend too, so you're not rude to her. Write-in for talking subjects.
Intently watch their chess match, the way a person plays chess can be very informative about them as a person . Then after they're done, ask if either wants to play a round with us. Also low-key flirt with Frenchie.

>>2118691
>Chise spotted! Have a talk with her. About... things. Beats being here. Write-in for topics.
We need to learn how her sword techniques work.

>>2118691
>Chise spotted! Have a talk with her.

Turning around, you get a glance at a tiny figure that you know as Chise, that Japanese girl, toting an object wrapped in a purple fabric using one hand. She's by herself and seems to be looking for a good spot to sit. Eh, you have nothing else to do, you can have one more conversation before a meal. You say farewell in Latin to your cousin and her compatriot and get going, “Vale.”

“Huh?”
“What?”

Heh. You stroll over half the room to get to Chise who spots you before you even get near her. She welcomely waves to you, speaking once you're in hearing range, “Greetings, Mr. Brown.”

“Good morning, Chise. Are you free right now?” You politely ask.

For a moment she tilts her head in thought, answering, “Hm? I am. Why?”

“We never had our discussion about Japan swordplay and something else. Sorry, I've been busy in life and I assume you were too. Mind talking over breakfast?” You propose as this might be the only good time prior to some other bullshit happening.

Her entire face lights up like fireworks upon hearing you. “Sure! I can show you!” Whoa, that's two steps ahead Missy.

You have to reel it in as interesting as the prospect is, “Uh, telling is fine for now. Come on, let's take that booth.” You lead the way to the nearest booth and have a seat.

...

At another table...

The girl with the beret moves her head slightly to the side to see the man heading away. “Hey, did your cousin walk out on us to chat up a tiny girl?”

With no concern or curiosity her lost relative, Ann puts her focus on the game at hand, “I would rather not know his taste. Also, check.”

“I see...”

…

You give a little of your background experience in melee fighting to Chise, which is practically nil compared to Chise's lifetime dedication to her samurai arts and HONOUR. You still have the memory of your ass being beat by her. She definitely didn't go easy on you that time. Moving on, Chise shares a lot about Japan. A lot. Speech lecture territory of a lot. Mostly it's explaining the Japanese language as there's no dictionary to help you or her get the point across.

“Nippon is under guidance our Emperor.........” Government, politics, monarchy stuff. Are you taking a history lesson? Are you going to be quizzed later? “... the samurai clans are no longer active under the new ways, yet their tradition and ways live on,” Okay, now you're hearing something. You steer the conversation to swords and Chise's style. But words are harder to explain fluid movements and poses. Pictures or a live demonstration would be better.

Cont.

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>>2121213

You easily see that Chise is in a great mood, smiling joyfully and seems really, really, intent on making you learn what you can about GLORIOUS NIPPON. Shut up voices. Eventually, the topic goes to your corner, you say what you know about the martial styles of old Europe and some other type not involving guns. A little of boxing, fencing, cane fighting, self-defense, the like. Sadly, you're unable to educate her properly, but she doesn't seem to mind too much.

Times passes, you get served the most appetizing item you find that's not very Albion for a reason, you eat and drink with Chise and continue the topic of combat. A jolly good time! Only needs alcohol but none today, you're disembarking and you need to stay dry. You can't complain about that or the conversation of beating the hell out of people using various means and techniques, neither does Chise.

During the conversation, the speakers on the ship turn on and out comes a message from the Captain, “Attention all passengers, we have received news that the port is currently at capacity and is likely to not have a dock opened to us at the assigned time. We're sorry for what inconvenience this has caused and we are currently working to rectify it. No matter how long your stay is, we assure we will have our restaurants and commodities running. We are happy to serve your needs and hope you enjoy your stay a little longer. Thank you, this is the Captain speaking, and I hope you had a pleasant time with us.”

Odd, but that also means you're on vacation work. “Odd.” You mutter and push you empty plate to the side.

“Is this normal?” Chise inquires you.

“I wouldn't know. I don't deal with ships enough to know the norms.”

“I see. Ah! The time!” You look at the nearest clock to see the fingers are at 9:46 AM. “Sorry, but I need to get going.”

>If you can, why not join her in whatever she's doing? Mainly, cause you're going to be bored and that's why you want to hang out with her.
>Let her off. She does what she needs to do and you won't bother her. Guess you should do something in the meantime. Write-in or choice below.
>>A little problem at the docks. Pf, that means nothing to you. You can fly..... kinda. Anyway, head back to your place. Consider it an early mission to yourself to check how your warehouse. IS THE DOCK READY!?
>>Shoot the shit with the men and boys.
>>Find the Princess and maybe her friends. No real reason. You got time to burn.
>>Check in with your family members. See what they're up to.
>>Right... you never did finish your personal ship tour. Continue that.
>>Time for some Arabic translation time! And copying. Get some work done.

>>2121214
>>Time for some Arabic translation time! And copying. Get some work done.

>>2121214
>Time for some Arabic translation time! And copying. Get some work done.
We'll need to to work on the Turks.

>>2121214
>>Time for some Arabic translation time! And copying. Get some work done.

>>2121214
>>>Time for some Arabic translation time! And copying. Get some work done.

Work is fucking me up so much with these times.

Anyway, dice roll, 1d100+10

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>2123663
It's cool. I didn't need a sleep schedule anyway!

Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>2123663

Rolled 12 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2123663

Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>2123663