Era Victoria IC

"Chirurgeon here has an ongoing arrangement with me," Battery explained. "He treats me when I hurt myself, and in exchange I generate business for him," he says with a grin.

Crystalite wrote:"What makes you think I want to stay off the grid?" Battery replies with a grin. "You've assumed an awful lot about my motives, Mr. Talker. My squad leader had a phrase about assumptions..."

'Well,' Smooth Talker smiled, 'that's why you are here, isn't it? To tell your side of the story.'

'But really, this is almost too rich.' He chuckled a bit as he observed his guests. 'Sitting here in my dainty living room are a member of the Battery and a member of the Nightingales.'

he turned his gaze towards the silent Deer who accompanied them. 'So are we going three for three and you'll tell me you're a member of an illustrious organisation as well?'

"Hmm?" chimes Dahlia as he is asked a question. "Yeah, I am. It's a big group, I'm sure you've heard of it. It's called 'None Of Your Business'."

"Don't worry, youngster," Battery says to Dahlia in a patronizing tone. "I'm sure you'll find plenty of infamy and misfortune of your own if you just give it some time," he said with a grin, reaching over and patting the deer on the shoulder.

"Pretty sure meeting you is enough misfortune for one lifetime, Junk Arm," Dahlia retorts as he glares at Battery...

"Nobody makes you follow me everywhere, you know," Battery points out. "C'mon, tell the nice minotaur about yourself. Or shall I tell him of the Boiler Room Incident?"

Crystalite wrote:"Nobody makes you follow me everywhere, you know," Battery points out. "C'mon, tell the nice minotaur about yourself. Or shall I tell him of the Boiler Room Incident?"

'Boiler room incident?' Smooth Talker asked with a raised eyebrow, casually ignoring the Deer's previous respond.

Dahlia instinctively reaches for his tail, least it caught on fire again just from the memory. "You wouldn't dare."

"You don't gain infamy by keeping secrets," Battery points out. "I'm reasonably confident he's not going to try and turn you in. Go ahead and tell him about yourself."

"You guys are the worst," comments an embarrassed Dahlia, "We're not here to talk about me, remember?"

"Then," Battery says with a scowl, "why are you here? You never did answer that particular question."

"Because..." Dahlia sighs. "Okay, what do you want to know then?"

Paper Shadow wrote:"Because..." Dahlia sighs. "Okay, what do you want to know then?"

'Everyone has a past.' Smooth Talker remarked solemnly. 'I won't pry too much if you don't want to but I'm mostly curious as to why you keep company with a Nightingale member and the last member of the Battery.'

Smooth Talker looked at the others. 'That reminds me: were all three of you present at the battle of Witherschapel?'

Chirurgeon looks at Battery. "He was there to get his arm blown off. I was there to graft a new one on. And, well, I don't think our deer friend was there. Unless you're holding out on me."

"Chirurgeon's a doctor, I grow plants, sometimes he needs herbs for medicines, sometimes I need help. Battery's a mercenary, I'm a saboteur, sometimes we end up working together for a job." He slumps into the arm of his side of the couch and continues in his moody tone, "And I wasn't there for the riots. Happy?"

Paper Shadow wrote:"Chirurgeon's a doctor, I grow plants, sometimes he needs herbs for medicines, sometimes I need help. Battery's a mercenary, I'm a saboteur, sometimes we end up working together for a job." He slumps into the arm of his side of the couch and continues in his moody tone, "And I wasn't there for the riots. Happy?"

'Most interesting.' Smooth Talker simply replied.

'My my, isn't this the most interesting bunch this side of Leadon.' He thought to himself. Here he was, in his rocking chair, sitting across a self-admitted criminal, a living rumour and whatever the Griffon doctor was. Yet he felt that the conversation was steering away from his original intent.

'Sounds to my like you're all busy people so I'll get to my actual reason for inviting you.' Smooth Talker stood up and walked over to the window. He brushed the curtains aside a bit, folded his hands behind his back and peered outside.

'I'm planning on writing a new book.' He began. 'A historical novel if you please. About the Battery.'

He turned to look at the Battery. 'I would hereby like to ask your permission, or blessing if you prefer, and to act as my primary source.' He took one last puff of his pipe before the tobacco was all burnt up. 'Your story deserves to be told.'

Battery idly licked a fang as he considered the offer. "I agree... But that sounds rather time consuming. My time, like most dragons, is rather valuable," he said in an even, professional tone. "Not to mention it puts us both in a dangerous position - the existence of this book would imply that you've spoken to me, but did not pursue the significant price on my head. That could ruin you politically, while also creating, effectively, a guidebook on my methods and motivations," Battery explained, putting his own empty pipe away. "Are you prepared to risk that? Do you have any plans that can mitigate that risk?"

"You could have just made everything up," mutters Dahlia, "Or just not make more books. That works for me."

As the earth pony hurriedly skimmed down the street, his heart beat with a wild rhythm. It was certain that he wouldn't keep up this sprint for long, losing the distance won with much difficulty, as the mare pursuing him was definitely a swift one too. As he passed more and more houses, his thoughts flew briefly to the space between them. It struck him that what he might lack in endurance, he may recompensate with the knowledge of the surrounding area, losing the chaser in the labyrinth of Witherschappel's alleyways. He strained his brain as to recall someplace where he could lose her in... He tried his hardest to focus his mind on what seemed to be a possible way of survival. Unfortunately, due to the heat of the moment, he found the task neigh-impossible to realize... *

As the knives landed in his immediate proximity, that trail of his thoughts came to an abrupt stop. The earth pony realized that with his best, being not enough to outrun the pegasus enough as to be out of her weapons' reach, he was likely to get hit any second. He needed to retaliate, if only in a non-threatening to the life way, for his own safety. As to how to do it, he actually got an idea, due to the bits he's taken, jinglingin in his coat during the run. The earth pony slipped out one of them and grasped it with the clippers of his personal battery, now held in his mouth. He turned it on, electryfing the coin. Chrome stopped and turned around, facing the pegasus, over whom has he gained the advantage of distance, if only briefly. Immediately after that, he took a violent swing with most of his body and hurled the little piece of metal at the pegasus. He aimed at her head, precisely at the point where the combination of both the impact and the electrical impulse delivered would blacken her out. Whether that would stun her and take her down from the sky or simply daze, allowing for guards to capture her, he put trust in that one thrust. **

Hope Law sees that... and sees it his way.

*Streetwise check: 8 + d20 (2) = 10

Lightning affinity:

**Acrobatics check: 13 + d20 (20) = Critical success

As the knives landed in his immediate proximity, that trail of his thoughts came to an abrupt stop. The earth pony realized that with his best, being not enough to outrun the pegasus enough as to be out of her weapons' reach, he was likely to get hit any second. He needed to retaliate, if only in a non-threatening to the life way, for his own safety. As to how to do it, he actually got an idea, due to the bits he's taken, jinglingin in his coat during the run. The earth pony slipped out one of them and grasped it with the clippers of his personal battery, now held in his mouth. He turned it on, electryfing the coin. Chrome stopped and turned around, facing the pegasus, over whom has he gained the advantage of distance, if only briefly. Immediately after that, he took a violent swing with most of his body and hurled the little piece of metal at the pegasus. He aimed at her head, precisely at the point where the combination of both the impact and the electrical impulse delivered would blacken her out. Whether that would stun her and take her down from the sky or simple daze, allowing for guards to capture her, he put trust in that one thrust. **

Spoiler:

**Acrobatics check: 13 + d20 (20) = Critical success

The coin flies true to its target striking her square in her forehead with a dull thud. Her eyes roll up into the back of her head and she crashes to the ground directly in front of Chrome.

A moment later three, no two ponies and a red eyed zebra, in slightly tattered black coats come up to Chrome and the Pegasus. As the Pegasus begins to stir one of the ponies tackles and restrains her.

The Zebra, clearly in a slightly better coat and with a golden chain on one of her shoulders, comes over to Chrome. "So who gave you this job?"

"Gotcha!"
There was never such a thing as "too much safety."
Oirik tied barkeeper's legs pretty strong. Ropes were knotted up tightly. It wasn't very comfortable... for the barkeeper of course.
Oirik also managed to find some substitute for a gag. Everypony knows that silence is gold... and gold is pretty much expensive.

"OK... So... I have some questions" - he started.
"As you can see... You dun goofed! You screwed so badly " - Oirik moved a bit toward him - "I know you can't move and you barely sense your limbs due to those robes." - he added - "Ah... This gag here is pretty annoying, isn't it?" - Oirik took a cloth soaked with cold water and squeezed it beneath barkeeper's forehead.

A little drop dropped... 10 seconds later another one dropped. Oirik managed to hang it in still position using a string.

"Anoying... Very anoying! You look pretty scared! It will last forever! "

"As you can see... This is a forgotten place. Water falling on your forehead and dripping on this clothy gag substitute will provide you liquid supply for a week. These ropes are pretty strong... You can sit here... like... forever."

"Unless you tell me something I want to know... Deal? "
"Ah... I forgot. You will tell me who is behind this mess or... " - Oirik showed him a knife - " this will not end well... and don't scream. You don't want to do that"
"There is also option I'll use this knife and other cool stuff to make you talk"
Oirik removed a gag.

Paper Shadow wrote:"You could have just made everything up," mutters Dahlia, "Or just not make more books. That works for me."

Smooth Talked faked a mock shock of horror. If he had been wearing his monocle, it would have surely popped off. 'Something's got to pay the bills.' he shrugged. 'Besides,' he added with a smile, 'writers gonna write. That would be like asking your friend here to stop dodging the "Are you the Battery?" question. Or asking the good doctor to stop treating patients.'

Battery idly licked a fang as he considered the offer. "I agree... But that sounds rather time consuming. My time, like most dragons, is rather valuable," he said in an even, professional tone. "Not to mention it puts us both in a dangerous position - the existence of this book would imply that you've spoken to me, but did not pursue the significant price on my head. That could ruin you politically, while also creating, effectively, a guidebook on my methods and motivations," Battery explained, putting his own empty pipe away. "Are you prepared to risk that? Do you have any plans that can mitigate that risk?"

'I doubt that I will be burned at the stake the moment the book hits the shelves.' Smooth Talker jested. He had thought about the implications and consequences of going through with his idea but counterbalanced it with the amount of influence it could have. Not the mention the potential for interesting times, as he liked to call it. Nevertheless, the first and utmost important reason for him was the simplest one: the want to tell a story.

'I have thought about it though.' Smooth Talker continued in his pattented serious mode. 'Which is why it will be historical fiction. Not based on a true story but rather inspired by a true story.'

He tapped the leftover ashes from his pipe out into the ashtray. 'I'm not asking for your entire life story. Merely to act as a consultant when necessary or to provide more in-depth details insight when needed. And of course, you retain the right to veto the publication if you deem it to be too dangerous. Or badly written.' he added with a smile. 'I'd even, after the mandatory cuts, share the profit with you. Or donate it to charity if you'd prefer.'

Smooth Talker stood up and began to collect the cups and saucer to put them on the tray. He felt a bit miffed that no one had sampled his tea but not everyone could be a tea affectionate, he supposed.

'At the risk of being a terrible host and dissuading you from future social visits, I am afraid I have cut this visit short.' Politeness was a mask worn in the higher social circles and even if Smooth Talker figured he could just bluntly ask them to leave without much fuss, it had become almost a force of habit to be polite about anything, lest the other figured out what you were really trying to say. 'I myself already had plans for the afternoon and I'm sure all of you are busy people as well.'

He extended a polite gesture towards the door, as if to motion them to get on there feet and be on their way. 'If you would have any more questions, you know my address. And of course,' the force of habit kicked in, 'I'm not adverse to social calls.'

Battery considered the offer briefly... And then heaved himself off the sofa with a smile. "Alright then. You seem to have thought this out," he says, adjusting his cloak. "You have engaged my services in this endeavor."

He rummaged around briefly before producing a patch of thick cloth, depicting a sword and a cannon crossed in front of a flame. "Put this on your door the next time you want to talk. I can be... challenging to find, sometimes," Battery said with a wink, setting it on the table. "Pleasure doing business with you," he finished, moving for the door.

Chirurgeon rises, tipping his wide brimmed hat politely, following Battery to the door. "I have what I came for; it's been an honor to finally meet you, Mr. Talker. I'll leave you to your business."