I'm liking the suggestions. It is a tie, but I'll go with the later one, as it's an opportunity to introduce your companions better.
As you stare at the whirling portal, with a little less excitement than last time, you can feel the fatigue taking its toll. You don’t have the energy to watch it for tonight, and even if you did you’d have to sleep sometime. Never the less, this is an excellent opportunity to check the cost of upkeep and stability of the portal- And though it pains, you cannot do so alone. You leave your home to go off and find someone who can keep watch for the night. It is a little late to find Tom, not having a home and all makes him hard to find on demand, and even if you would find him he wouldn’t necessarily be inclined to help. He’s his own thing, and he does whatever he wants to do. Alfons, however, would be very willing to help, even if he’d prefer not to leave his apartment in daylight.
You never knew your aunt as anyone proper. According to your father she was a well-respected member of high society, once, but the death of your uncle, and the rumours that followed, pushed her away from the public. Alfons was always her voice of reason in those times, someone who didn’t compromise manners or appearances. As such he would no doubt object to being summoned without proper appointment. But it is a special occasion. You knock as hard as you can on his door, and he appears after a minute.
“Edgar, what a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the honour?”
You decide, out of urgency and respect for Alfons, not to beat around the bush, and tell him exactly what you want him to do.
“I need you to watch the rodents in my basement.”
“What rodents?” he asks, with patience and calm worthy of a saint.
“The ones that scoured my lab. I need to sleep and suspect they will be back tonight.”
It takes a couple of seconds for Alfons to respond, and when he does it is with a sudden tiredness. “I would of course be willing to help you, but my abilities would not match those of any trap, I’m afraid. If you hurry to the market you can surely find one before they close for the day.”
You stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he’s trying to say. “Oh, these are not
Rattus rattus, these are…
Rattus charlsum, I suppose. Or perhaps
Homo charlsum… it really doesn’t matter, could you please watch them for me? I need to sleep.
This time it is Alfons who can’t quite understand what you’re saying. He stares at you with a puzzled expression. “Just what kind of rodents are these?”
“Humanoid ones! Rats with arms and legs!” You exclaim, finally feeling that you’re getting somewhere. “So if we could just-“
You feel a sudden tug as Alfons drags you inside the apartment, leaving you disoriented as he closes the door. “How did you manage to stir up werecreatures? How many are there? Where are they now? And what is it they want?”
You feel slightly tired of always getting misunderstood. You make the next few sentences as simple and unambiguous you can. “They are not werecreatures, they are mammals developed independently from earth, which has found that a humanoid shape with rodent features was the most beneficial configuration for them in whatever environment it is they are present in.”
To this you are met with silence.
“Also, I’ve finished my invention.”
“Edgar! That is great news!”
“Yeah, yeah. Great great. Can we please leave?”
“Are these… rats dangerous?”
“As dangerous as you and me, I suppose.”
Alfons winces at your answer. “Then let me get some stuff.”
Arriving at the basement there seems to be no sign of any creature. Alfons gives a comment about the portal, which you don’t pay attention to. You need to go bed. Alfons puts on a kettle of tea, which you decline an account of it being to late (it can’t be later than eight o’clock, but you need to recoup some sleep). Grabbing a pile of letters you wave Alfons off, then retreat to your apartment on the floor above. It’s been a long day, and as you catch up with family matters you can feel the fatigue setting in; the words of the many letters floating together.
A photography from your elder brother Joseph, the first born. It depicts your brother posing in front of a dead elephant. There is a letter accompanying the photography, but you don’t bother reading it. You know them by heart; he is five hundred miles from you and still flaunts with his success and status whenever he can.
A birthday card from your elder brother Victor, the second born. It would be very thoughtful if it wasn’t two months too late, but you can forgive him for that. It can’t be easy posting birthday cards from Prague when you’re writing from Quebec. You know this because the stamp has a picture of the queen, and there is no way Victor is anywhere in the empire right now. His fit of anarchism does not seem to end as your father would hope it would, and whatever he’s doing in Quebec is not what he is supposed to do be doing in exile, that’s for sure.
A letter from your only sister Bethany, who are concerned with your activities as of late. That is not what she’s writing in the letter, of course, but it’s clear enough. She’s even written an invitation to her husband’s, the architects, villa. You don’t know how she managed to do that, since last time you were there you called his profession a chimeric abomination of humanities and science and a disgrace to the subject of physics. To be perfectly honest, that is not a position you hold today. They can be nice to look at, you suppose.
A stern letter from your father, Bernard, calling you to a soiree at their mansion. Apparently, there is some sort of eligible bachelorette, a daughter the director of some rail road company. The courtship would strengthen family influence in British Africa and yadda yadda why can’t he ever acknowledge your achievements! Why is he always so inclined on that you should marry! The letter goes on to explain that if you don’t show up he will stop sending you money, a powerless threat since the soiree was three days ago. You would expect a second letter to be sent soon, especially since you haven’t given him any response.
A short notice from your landlady Madam Fickle, who explains that if she doesn’t get her rent for the week she will evict you, and she will do so soon. The shortness of the letter gives off a no nonsense vibe, and you should probably do just so soon.
The letters finally push you over the edge, and you fall asleep covered in piles of paper.
You are woken in a daze by Alfons, who looks tired but calm. After formally apologizing for waking you up and greeting you on this fine morning, he gives of the report regarding the portal.
“Nothing emerged from the portal tonight, but I heard sounds. Specifically chitters, and a lot of branches being dragged around. And I’m still not exactly sure what that thing is.” he says, to which you
-Thank him for sitting here tonight, and tell him that he should probably go home and get some sleep.
-Thank him for sitting here tonight and ask if he could stay for just a few more hours.
-Something else
After that you take stock of how much ionization liquid the portal has used up. The portal does require energy to function, given to it through the large titanium frame. After some basic arithmetic you conclude that 0.3 tankards of ionization liquid was used. To put that into comparison you get approximately 1 tankard for every bushel of coal spent to produce it. That leaves you with 0.7 tankards left.
After this short experiment you stretch your back, and grab a cup of cold but delicious tea. You consider writing a couple of letters, specifically
-Tom, though he has no address you could probably go up to the rooftop and bribe an urchin to convey a message. Though they could possibly pocket the change for themselves, and even if he does get it it’s not certain he would show up.
-An apologizing letter to your landlady, Madam Finkle, with the appropriate sum of rent.
-Someone else
Finally you should decide on what you should do today. You could
-Go through notes of the invention and taking stock of your possessions and financial situation
-Go to the library and look for books on [ENTER SUBJECT]
-Finally go tell Duvane what you think of her and her
long, golden hair amateurish achivements-Go explore the portal
I mean what are you even waiting for you’ve waited three years this is your dream it isn't even an option-Something else
Status: Ecstatic
Inventory: Nothing but your morning robe
Misc: Unshaven
Inventions: The portable teleporter?, its many components. (You should perhaps look into them individually)
Author
Topic: (SG) Clickbait Steampunk, Let's all Celebrate Asbergers (Read 1768 times)