Era Victoria IC

"Duly noted. I have to commend you on making haste with that matter."

The kettle's whistle seemed to announce what a perfect timing Chrome chose to make sure the neighbourhood is spy-proof. As he was already on his hooves, he didn't need to dismount the chair again in order to go for the boiling water. That he did, turning off the fire and bringing said kitchen appliance up to the counter. There, he proceeded to fill the cups with adequate amounts of the hot fluid, guest first of course, pinpointing the tea bags' location within the bundle upon the counter, if there was any doubt about it at this point. He left the kettle, not empty yet, off to the side of the counter, in case either of them wished for seconds. Afterwards, he proceeded to make his bewerage the way he liked it - strong and black, with a hint of honey to it, not neglecting to provide for the mare's needs, if there were any and he could help it.

"An hour's difference and i doubt you'd find anypony who wouldn't waver at this repair's prospect."

As for snow being beautiful, the earth pony more often than not perceived it as just a slightly unpleasant necessity - when not disregarding it's presence or lack thereof completely, that is. He didn't give it much thought in his younger days, to be honest, as he hardly had companions willing to revel in such simple and little, yet slightly abstract pleasures of life. Both his neighbours and siblings received a rather strict, practical upbringing. It would've been for Chrome just a remnant of the Equestria's past, weren't it for the fact that the nature's cycle apparently needed it for recuperation and growth - and only a fool would claim that one's not dependant on it. Even a measly mechanic like him, living far away from wilderness and using mostly prefabricated goods, had to admit his career, and beyond that, wouldn've been for naught if not for a constant stream of raw materials available on the market.

"Chances are, if whatever event this mechanism is going to be used at, happens to be a public one in this Royal Asylum, i might be just in time for it."

Now that the unicorn expressed her opinion on the frozen water flakes, it made the earth pony take a pause at those musings. How much of their original design had been handed down with so many a generation passed and the country, having expanded so vastly? Wasn't it lost on ponies, who hardly had time to appreciate it, like many of those alike Chrome, living in the city? Did the pegasi even employ the same methods of old? Were they still crafted by hoof or did the cloud-bound facilities go through the same process as the ones on the ground and expanded from manufactures to full-fledged factories? Wait a minute - weren't they actually the first to go through that period, actually? As Chrome was well aware that history wasn't his greatest asset, he referred to the knowledge of what innovations have been made in that field most recently to further his goals. *

"Not inquiring if that's the case though."

As the vapours rose above the newly-prepared tea, the stallion moved his cup away to the side, pulling towards him a pen and a notebook of sorts instead. Opening it revealed it to be a cross between that and a sketchbook, actually. He kept quite a few of those, each one performing a different function - ranging from research on the blueprints of the newest inventions to his own ideas, both loosely formed and given actual shape. This one was a work aid of sorts, as he kept an up-to-date record on what he was working on, if it was anything out of ordinary. That was one of such cases, as the Orrery has been customized. In order to have a clear picture of what the original state of the mechanism looked like and to have something to fall back on in case memory failed him and he needed to either reassemble or even recreate particular parts, he was planning to carefully take insightful notes concerning each change to the standard Type-13 pattern that he was acquainted with before beginning the actual work. Before that, he politely asked the rhetorical question first though:

"I hope you don't mind me sitting down to work while we're at it?"

*Mechanics check: 18/23 + d20 (6) = 24/29

Crystalite wrote:"Boy," Battery says to the suited pony. "Just... Don't," he says cooly, tilting his weapon in the holster to make a very noticible bulge in his cloak.

Persuasion:

AleneShazam wrote:Chirurgeon calmly unsheathes what can only be described as a grossly oversized scalpel, the blade coated in a dull crimson. "I was hoping someone would volunteer for testing. Your sacrifice for medicine will be remembered." He gives a cold chuckle and steps up behind Battery, idly twirling the blade in one claw.

---

Persuasion assist: 11+10=21

The suited pony is visibly shaken by the threats, and bolts away from the alleyway... he appears to have dropped something in the snow before running away.

---

"Yes, this colt here says he has a message for you." At this prompting the unfamiliar pony gives Smooth Talker an envelope sealed with an intricate wax seal, and is addressed to S.Talker. The pony then leaves before Smooth Talker can so much as say a word.

---

"Chanteuse" makes her tea straight and slightly weaker than usual.

"An hour's difference and i doubt you'd find anypony who wouldn't waver at this repair's prospect."

The mare pauses mid sip, carefully sets her cup down and swallows before replying, "I was not aware that it would take so long. All the better that I came into your shop when I did then."

"Chances are, if whatever event this mechanism is going to be used at, happens to be a public one in this Royal Asylum, i might be just in time for it."
"Not inquiring if that's the case though."

"The way you are saying that, makes me almost certain that Stargazer will begin before you have a chance to leave..." She manages to catch how she might be misconstrued, "by that I mean he is very old fashioned and refuses to allow anyone to leave until he finishes. "

"I hope you don't mind me sitting down to work while we're at it?"

"No, I don't mind in the slightest but I must be taking my leave fairly soon. After the tea of course."

The transformation of weather production from simple craftspony work into fully fledged factories was among the first to be innovated but also the slowest to be adopted due to a combination of some rather dubious reports on the effects of mass produced weather and a particularly ardent resistance within the weather pegasi community.

The Battery relaxed as the pony bolted. He let go of his weapon, and walked over to see what the poor colt had dropped in his hurry...

"I guess your horror act worked," comments Dahlia as he opens a compartment and checks on its contents. Before he does anything with it, he moves to slap Battery with his fake leg. "A deer working at a foundry? Really? I should have expected somepony to follow us, no one would buy that. I must have hoped that if they were dumb enough to smoke, they might have been as dumb as... What do you have there?"

Battery looked at it curiously. "Hey, I never said we were working at the foundry," he said, not really paying attention.

Sitting in the snow is a single dull red tube with a burning fuse coming out of the end...

Battery blinked. And then blinked again. And then yelled a single word, that probably didn't mean much to those passing by, but meant instant panic to anyone who was or had been military.

"GRENADE!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, and then ran back down the alleyway as fast as he could...

Athletics:

"What?!" gasps Dahlia as he watches Battery leg it down the alleyway. He turns and tries to run, but his fake leg trips on the snow. As he falls to the snow, he gives a panicked look back at the burning fuse. He quickly swings his head back, causing one of the barrel's compartment to fling open and its liquid contents to jump into his mouth. As it hits his tongue, his body spontaneously tosses itself forward in a flash downthe alleyway, and a second time even further. After the second jump, Dahlia quickly pops open the compartment he was looking into earlier and chucks the spores inside into the air, which then quickly flutter towards him and the rest of the group...

(Acrobatics Check: Natural 1)  
(Element of Magic (0/1 Magic Points Remaining): Flash Teleport)
(Flash Teleport (1/2 Uses Remaining) down the alleyway)
(Flash Teleport (0/2 Uses Remaining) down the alleyway)
(Enchanting (2/3 Uses Remaining): Undetectable)
(Battery, Chirurgeon, and Dahlia leave no trace of presence (you leave no fingerprints, no magical impressions, no tracks etc.) for five minutes)

Chirurgeon gapes for the briefest of moments, before scrambling away as quickly as he can manage, his crippled wings even flapping weakly under his cloak. "NEVER SHOULD HAVE LEFT MY OFFICE!" (Acrobatics: 18+6 = 24)

"Yes, this colt here says he has a message for you." At this prompting the unfamiliar pony gives Smooth Talker an envelope sealed with an intricate wax seal, and is addressed to S.Talker. The pony then leaves before Smooth Talker can so much as say a word.

"Huh. Okay then." Smooth Talker said a bit confused as the pony trotted off without so much as a single word. The envelope in his hand was rather plain looking, were it not for the wax seal on it. It was quite an interesting seal: a key crossed with an olive branch under a circlet and a large crown suspended over those.

Smooth Talker had never seen it before in his life. ¹

"Miss Brown." He tentatively spoke, "Did the messenger happen to have mentioned anything to you?"

After getting the reply that no, the pony only mentioned having a message for him, Smooth Talker kindly thanked his landlady, told her he would come over once for tea and gently closed the door behind him. He took a seat at his desk, swiped some of the papers aside and grabbed his envelope knife. Taking great care not to break the seal (sliding behind in and carving it loose from the paper), he opened the envelope and let his eyes rest on the content.
-----------
¹ History check failed (12+9=21)

"Indeed. Shortage of time was what contributed mostly to the price offered, i believe."

Having heard the mare's response, Chrome began taking the aforementioned notes, drawing a sketch of the Orrery's customized insides as well. It was a 3D model of sorts, showing the intertwining layers integrated within the orb, with focus on how they've been modified. Soon afterwards was he found dealing with the first, proper part of the task, namely the replacement of the loosened up, weakened springs. Although it may've appeared as the easiest part of the assignement, it was a crucial one. If he were he to make a mistake now, which he'd become aware of later on, he'd find himself in a need to re-calibrate the whole mechanism. That he could not afford time-wise. Hence, it had to be done perfectly the first time around. *

"Mind telling who's been the one behind deciding upon it?"

Chrome has briefly looked concerned after "Chanteuse" mentioned what being old-fashioned meant in this particular case. While working to meet the deadlines was something he was familiar with, it never pleased him to have his neatly organized eating or sleeping schedules disturbed. While he fretted not about the challenge the Orrery provided, down-to-earth stuff like having a solid meal on time was of his concern. Preparing one at home was out of the question, due to the amount of time necessary - and that was assuming all went well and he actually was left with a spare hour. That amount of time looked reasonable for one to order something at the town, but walking around with the precious mechanism was something he'd rather avoid, trusting not the shady alleyways and its inhabitants. At the same time, the food offered at the Royal Asylum was probably too expensive for him to have a go at with clear conscience, if he were to afford it at all. No matter the perplexing complexity of such a fundamental issue, the earth pony decided not to mention it to the mare. He believed to be hardly something he should concern a customer with. Instead, he inquired about a detail he hoped would help him with his decision planning:

"Do you happen to have an idea as to how long will what Stargazer's providing, take, madam?"

With how "Chanteuse" was about to leave the moment the necessary details of the comission have been conveyed, Chrome hardly considered she'd wish to stay longer than necessary to warm up. It was something to be expected, with hard-working ponies of Witherchapel following usually a rather tight schedule. Although the actual details of the unicorn's profession remained a mystery to the earth pony, the latter doubted not the former's need to push on with life. It was for the better that their conversation was to be a severly limited one. It was more than enough to leave a reasonable impression and get a general understanding of what the interaction with the other's like. Meanwhile, Chrome actually required solitude in order to concentrate on the subtle workings of the Orrery, constituing the core part of his current errand.

"Naturally. Would you be wishing to use the back door?

*Mechanics check: 23 +d20 (9) = 32

Chemistrychem wrote: "Let's have a look at this poster."

"Another Zebra... again. For price like 5000 bits I'll better start to look for another job."
After few seconds he looked at the poster again.
" Wait Is that even possible? "
Had someone printed extra two zeros by mistake? However, the list of her crimes was pretty reasonable for THAT price.
"It might be a little challenge. I bet she is not alone... she just can't be alone."
Oirik thought a little about this amount of money. He was astonished, shocked. He couldn't believe his eyes.
"One day... I promise. I will find a wife and have children. I will be a good father... I will be rich. I will retire. "
This was a good piece of news for his future, but there was still one unsolved problem.
The barkeeper. What he was planning to do? Was he working with this Zebra? Why the heck was he trying to kill him? There was no time for an explanation. Somebody must had to die for sure. From two possible options the death of barkeeper was preferable. Maybe not that quickly... He was sure have some useful information. Oirik looked for some old, ruined buildings nearby the tavern. Hideout was pretty important for what he was planning to do.
"I must find a good bait... Let's hire a prostitute... "
The plan was pretty simple.
Find hideout. Wait till evening. Hire prostitute. Set a trap and use chloroform then ropes.
"I think that shock therapy is enough for making sure he will say truth."
Streetwise Roll 16+7=23  

A few rows down from the tavern Oirik manages to find a warehouse with partially collapsed roof that definitely isn't claimed by any of the local gangs or criminals and it is unlikely that anyone would randomly wander in. It would be safe to rest there until evening or set something up. Along the way Oirik also spotted a Apothecary shop that should be selling chloroform. Finding a prostitute might be harder on a cold day as this but it will be hours until any are out and about.  

---

Crystalite wrote:Battery blinked. And then blinked again. And then yelled a single word, that probably didn't mean much to those passing by, but meant instant panic to anyone who was or had been military.

"GRENADE!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, and then ran back down the alleyway as fast as he could...

Athletics:

Paper Shadow wrote:"What?!" gasps Dahlia as he watches Battery leg it down the alleyway. He turns and tries to run, but his fake leg trips on the snow. As he falls to the snow, he gives a panicked look back at the burning fuse. He quickly swings his head back, causing one of the barrel's compartment to fling open and its liquid contents to jump into his mouth. As it hits his tongue, his body spontaneously tosses itself forward in a flash down the alleyway, and a second time even further. After the second jump, Dahlia quickly pops open the compartment he was looking into earlier and chucks the spores inside into the air, which then quickly flutter towards him and the rest of the group...

(Acrobatics Check: Natural 1)  
(Element of Magic (0/1 Magic Points Remaining): Flash Teleport)
(Flash Teleport (1/2 Uses Remaining) down the alleyway)
(Flash Teleport (0/2 Uses Remaining) down the alleyway)
(Enchanting (2/3 Uses Remaining): Undetectable)
(Battery, Chirurgeon, and Dahlia leave no trace of presence (you leave no fingerprints, no magical impressions, no tracks etc.) for five minutes)

AleneShazam wrote:Chirurgeon gapes for the briefest of moments, before scrambling away as quickly as he can manage, his crippled wings even flapping weakly under his cloak. "NEVER SHOULD HAVE LEFT MY OFFICE!" (Acrobatics: 18+6 = 24)

The bang is deafening but the dynamite explodes just as Chirurgeon gets clear of the blast radius. Everyone is pelted with snow and ice but are otherwise alright. The other side of the alleyway is in a panic with local ponies running like mad, there's no way to track down the Buffalo Gang member though there's also no way for the gang member to immediately check if the dynamite worked...

---

Demonu wrote:
"Huh. Okay then." Smooth Talker said a bit confused as the pony trotted off without so much as a single word. The envelope in his hand was rather plain looking, were it not for the wax seal on it. It was quite an interesting seal: a key crossed with an olive branch under a circlet and a large crown suspended over those.

Smooth Talker had never seen it before in his life. ¹

"Miss Brown." He tentatively spoke, "Did the messenger happen to have mentioned anything to you?"

After getting the reply that no, the pony only mentioned having a message for him, Smooth Talker kindly thanked his landlady, told her he would come over once for tea and gently closed the door behind him. He took a seat at his desk, swiped some of the papers aside and grabbed his envelope knife. Taking great care not to break the seal (sliding behind in and carving it loose from the paper), he opened the envelope and let his eyes rest on the content.
-----------
¹ History check failed (12+9=21)

What meets Smooth Talker's eyes is a letter... composed of complete and utter gibberish.

Ec Dljxkv Falfg Wrpqie;
B la drjx ysekj hf lejuvz rzi kkrx zlr mtavozrk jbk zii yvrzyexd, clu dyzyne qfzheh heehy Rvusc nef upse proort mss drjx jmfvzbthixort fzjvpvrzw. Vg evv pvet xvfp wk vyerp ox msjw zj esh dpsg bfyx ilxd igre xneg ytzcb jlk qhle bfw umk fryzfv wyi gtchtbkhu xoqr. Td oczrcy shk azrqj qawg kparle wkgexe tird Xni Nkewjw.

Psav sktseg,
Tsarg Rzfb Srxzmrl  

---

"Indeed. Shortage of time was what contributed mostly to the price offered, i believe."
"Chanteuse" nods in response to Chrome's statement slowly sipping her tea.

Having heard the mare's response, Chrome began taking the aforementioned notes, drawing a sketch of the Orrery's customized insides as well. It was a 3D model of sorts, showing the intertwining layers integrated within the orb, with focus on how they've been modified. Soon afterwards was he found dealing with the first, proper part of the task, namely the replacement of the loosened up, weakened springs. Although it may've appeared as the easiest part of the assignement, it was a crucial one. If he were he to make a mistake now, which he'd become aware of later on, he'd find himself in a need to re-calibrate the whole mechanism. That he could not afford time-wise. Hence, it had to be done perfectly the first time around. *
*Mechanics check: 23 +d20 (9) = 32

Chrome first goes over the selection of springs available to him, out of the ones of the appropriate sizes and type he selects the eight that will be best able to withstand the high tension and constant ware of the mechanism. The actual repair of the Orrery requires partial activation in order to expose all of the necessary locations,and Chrome manages to manually manipulate the sphere's individual rings. The old springs are then let down allowing their removal from their barrels. Finally the new springs are slotted in just leaving the precise calibration of the of the individual replacements.

As this happens "Chanteuse" watches with the interest born from one artisan respecting the work of another.
 

"Mind telling who's been the one behind deciding upon it?"

"In fact, I was... or rather I was told to offer what I felt was a reasonable price." She then lets out a small giggle.

"Do you happen to have an idea as to how long will what Stargazer's providing, take, madam?"

This question is met with a cringe, "I can not say, of the two I was present for, the first lasted from nightfall until dawn while the second he ended after an hour of manic activity on his part. "

"Naturally. Would you be wishing to use the back door?

" Yes, that would be for the best." "Chanteuse" stands from her chair, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mister Drive."

Chirurgeon takes the blast in stride, rolling across the ground to minimize the impact as he comes to a stop *just* clear of the blast zone. As soon as his ears stop ringing, he draws himself up in a dignified manner, smoothing out the robes and dusting off his cloak. "That... was close. Dahlia, Battery, are you all alright? Nothing significant I have to fix, I hope?"

Dahlia, whose second body fling landed him on his back, remains motionless in the snow. "I think my heart stopped for a moment there," he comments, "But I'm good. Could, erm, could someone help me up?"

Chirurgeon chuckles and holds out a claw to Dahlia, helping the deer back up. "Come on. Even with your enhancements hiding our tracks, I don't think it would be anatomically possible for the bomb to have totally obliterated us. It might mask our trail for a while, good thinking on your part, but we need to get moving..." He looks over to the drake. "Where to now? Still headed for the minotaur? Or should we not involve any more people into this mess?"

Battery dove into the snow, covering his ears - but too late! The blast rang through his head, leaving his ears ringing for several moments.

Chirurgeon was talking to him. Something, something... Alright? Significant? He nodded, giving a thumbs-up as he struggled back to his feet, panting from the exhilaration.

Chirurgeon was talking again. This time he could make it out a bit better.

AleneShazam wrote:"... for the minotaur? Or should we not involve any more people into this mess?"

"We should leave," Battery says. "But if they bought my ruse earlier then we should still be able to go see this Smooth Talker character..." he explains, brushing himself off as though he had merely tripped in the snow.

Streetwise:

Chirurgeon pauses, glancing at the dragon. "...Who did you say we were visiting?"

Under his mask, Chirurgeon grins broadly. "No... I didn't. Oh lords, was that...? Smooth Talker is a minotaur? I'd never have... ha! I suppose getting out of the office some times does pay off...!" He continues to babble happily, his words muffled by his mask.
When at last he manages to contain his excitement, he looks expectantly at Battery. "I suppose we should get going then? Won't want to keep him waiting."

When Dahlia gets up, he brushes the slush off himself and smacks some snow out of one of his ears. "Who are we talking about? The minotaur from earlier? You know him? Do you think he'd be a Buffalo?"

Chirurgeon scoffs. "Smooth Talker? A Buffalo member? I think that quite unlikely."

Battery rolled his eyes at the antics of his companions. "Right. Let's get out of here before someone investigates," he grouses, straightening his cloak and trudging off towards 34 Tite Street...

The trio leave the alley way without leaving a trace of their presence. After taking a fairly lengthy detour to collect The Battery's pay for last night's activities the group manages to arrive at a rather nicely kept boarding house. They arrive just as a messenger leaves the building.

Dahlia looks between the boarding house and the group. "Writing subjects first," he states, as he points to the door while looking at the Battery...

"That so? Well, i'm not sure how much should one account it to generosity, but..."

There was a little pause there. Deciding on what to say at that moment wasn't exactly easy for Chrome. It was one of those instances, when ideals clashed upon the fields of his mind. On one hand, if he were to stay silent on the matter, things would probably turn out smoothly, with how this mare seemed to have been satisfied with the very fact of the repair being done on time. Moreover, this amount of money, which meant a significant progress on some of his more expensive projects, could be possibly a laughable amount for someone higher in the social hierarchy, for whom was he actually doing the job. It was tempty. On the other hand, being honest with what he's doing, even when dealing with not particularly socially honoured individuals, was somewhat of a personal value to him. It was only after he soothed his desire with rational thinking as to how greediness doesn't pay in the long run, did he come to terms with what to do. He achieved that by convincing himself that, who knows, perhaps this is the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to shine and reach the higher circles, with presenting oneself from the best side at the beginning being crucial. It was very likely that he was just eluding himself and deep down, he was aware of it. Nonetheless, this excuse worked as means of convincing oneself to go in the right direction of the moral compass and for now, it was all that counted.

"... i find myself disagreeing with the price. Considering the market value of this service, including the time limit, i'm inclined to take half the amount."

As "Chanteuse" got up, so did Chrome, as courtesy dictated. That and he needed to show her the location of the back door too. Agreeing to the proposition itself was most popular among those of Chrome's customers, who seemed to be afraid of being not only seen, but followed too. The business, in which this mare came to him looked exceedingly clean and that made the stallion marvel. Not only did the nature of the request prove it - there was also the matter of "attending" what sounded like a pair of rather public events. Could it've been that this unicorn was a local celebrity of sorts, not wishing to draw attention of fans and paparazzi, following her around? That seemed unlikely too, considering a star probably wouldn't be running such simple errands for others. Chrome concluded that this mare was indeed an interesting, unique case.

"Pleasure's mine. One last question before you leave, if i may."

This matter was something the earth pony deliberately left for the end, for he did not wish to spoil the pleasant tea break mood. It would have been unsightly in the middle of the conversation, with how they've managed to stray away from business for a moment.

"Concerning the payment - should i bother Stargazer about it or rather expect another visit?"

Apart from clearing this matter between them, there was yet another reason why Chrome decided to bring it up. Customers, whose presence one could enjoy in peace were scarce among those, preferring night as the regular visit hours. Hence, with the following sentence - being actually true according to his current financial state - the earth pony hinted indirectly and subtly that this mare is, in fact, a welcome guest here:

"I... wouldn't mind waiting."