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[abculatter_2]

I watch the gathering crowd with a dull boredom. I always hated being used as little more then another Guardian.

[Silleh Boy]

The form of a man of advanced age strode up onto the podium, a man who seemed to radiate fitness and well being despite how his form was wrinkled and his hair white. The man had something of a swagger in his step, a cane in hand that he used to accentuate rather than support. A man whom many applauded the arrival of, a man who many knew to be the current mayor of London.

Even those out of the loop or unaware of his position would know from the presence of armed officers about the base of the podium that he was quite important.

He was a man who appeared to be around his mid eighties, yet he carried himself as if he was in his late twenties, maybe early thirties with how easily he moved up to take his position. There was a brief moment in what he basked in the applause, waiting for it to die down as he set his cane down against the bulky stand of the microphone he was stood by.

"Dear citizens of London," the man started, his voice showing the signs of his age, yet also powerful, as if a lifetime of public speaking had honed it to the deep and powerful tones it bore. Tones that you would have expected on a much larger man than this one. "These are troubled times that we live in, times in what we are besieged at night by the foul creatures that live there. Times in what the streets by day in areas that we are less able to have patrolled by those that serve the nation with the utmost loyalty are dangerous for the common man to traverse."

The gathered crowds murmered briefly, prompting him to pause, waiting for them to settle down before he continued.

"In times like these it saddens me to say that the Queen herself seems to have lost her mind to the stresses that come with the worries she faces. While many of you may be sympathetic to her plight, wishing compassionately to stand by her side, to assist her as loyal subjects may, it is my place to remind you that this would not be in her best interests. Stricken by madness as she is, it is for the best that we allow her to remain in her current isolation inside the palace, until the time comes that she regains her senses and wishes to resume her duties or name her successor."

Duties. Even those from outside of the land knew that the queen had little power and little say in the running of the country, that she was a powerless figurehead, able only to express her distaste with various laws that were passed. Her duties boiled down to little more than keeping in touch with various members of the empire, assisting in forging alliances, diplomacy with other nobles and unveiling the occasional new building.

Nobody was fooled by this, though they were afraid to do little more than murmer in discontent at what this man was saying.

"The rumours perpetrated by those loyal to the queen must be stopped, for those rumours are designed to undermine the very nation. There are no 'monsters' infiltrating and running the country, only people faced with the difficult choices they make in safekeeping the people of this land. There are no-"

The mans words were cut silent as a gunshot echoed out, one that came from a fair distance away, one that struck the man square in the chest, sending him toppling down with a gasp echoing out from the speakers setup about the square. People panicked, jumping up from their chairs about the square and running this way and that as the Peelers attempted to take control and restore order to the situation.

The mysterious gunman however, was hard to spot, as the immediate rooftops in the direction that the shot had come from were clear. Though the gunshot had failed to kill Lord Morten, it had managed to reveal something sinister about his nature. As he struggled to haul himself back up against the stand of the microphone, the Peelers who had run to his side recoiled in horror.

Lord Morten had changed. His form was emaciated, a thin trickle of red against his shirt all that marked the gunshot wound he had sustained, his mouth hanging open, filled with tiny, needle like teeth, and his eyes...

His eyes were like two lumps of coal, gazing out blankly over the scene of panicked people before him.

A flash of metal from one of the distant buildings along a street that had a clear line of sight to the square marked the gunman raising his weapon for a second shot, a gunman who from this distance was the size of a fly.

Brown and bronze was the gunman's colours, sharp was the crack of the second shot and filled with screams was the air as people panicked anew. The body of the former lord slammed down against the podium he had been stood atop as the second gunshot met its mark, this one striking him in the head, this one fatal.

In the chaos, there was little the Peelers could do other than swarm to the podium to ensure people didn't get too close to it, leaving the gates unmanned as people ran in and out of them in a panic, and the distant gunman seemed to merely drop from atop the roof, into the streets below him and vanish from sight.

In the midst of the chaos, what did you do?

[cerapa]

I take a closer look at his blood to see what it contains. This doesnt seem to be the regular ichor that the things that go bump have.

I wrote my background late in the evening and it was kinda lackluster, so:

The poison he was developing wasnt entirely useless against the things that go bump in the night. It made them a bit dizzy, but it was extremely deadly against anything else. The superiors in the guild found that it was pointless to develop it further. While the poison was given to others to weaponize, his funding was cut to force him to start another project.
All of the resources came from the guild, so they had full rights to it, but he treated it as stealing his work and simply walked out of the guild. He is most likely still an official member in the papers, but has a huge grudge with the guild and treats its leadership as thieves.

I hope this background doesnt conflict with anything.

[Armok]

I chase after the gunman, unseen.

[Nirur Torir]

Henry stared at the form as it was shot. The important man was claiming that there were no monsters, yet he was clearly a monster. As he was trying to drown out sympathy for the queen ... He shoved his way into the fleeing crowd just after the second shot rang out. There were likely more of those things around, and the only likely way out was through the crowd.

Edit: Nevermind the thoughts. Henry just gets out of there.

[abculatter_2]

Util, the moment he heard the shot, immediately assumed it was some rowdy technomancer or something equally unrelated, and thus first began searching the crowd for its source. Although it was awhile before he looked up at the ragged, bleeding form of the Mayor, his misinformed attentions did allow him to see the gunman' glint as he aimed the second shot.

When Util finally did look up at the now-dead Mayor, it was to investigate the peculiar ruckus which had begun up there. It took a moment for the two inputs to click, though in a surprising show of intellect Util managed to put 1 plus 1 together;

He... That man killed the Mayor!

At that, he disregarded (or perhaps he simply forgot,) his duty at the Mayor's side and began running as fast as he could to the Gunman's location.

[Criptfeind]

This gunman who had shot the mayor... was he a madman bent on anarchy? Or did he know the truth. Eather way Eather Zorak knew he needed to speak to this man. He rushed out the gate and started to run in the direction that the man had gone. Hopefully he could catch this man and learn more.

[Silleh Boy]

In the midst of the chaos it becomes apparent that several of the younger Peelers have already broken away from their companions to chase this gunman. Some of the Journalists that arrived at the event have stayed to take pictures of the thing that was previously thought to be the mayor, while others attempt to keep up with the Peelers.

Not everybody chasing the gunman is here on some official duty, some of them are people who seek to do the right thing, some of them are civilians, wanting to see what such a thing could have been. Those who had seen it jump from the roof after all, know it isn't a natural man.


Cerapa:
As you attempt to close the distance between yourself and the fallen mayor, to get a closer look at what happened, at what he is, you find yourself buffeted by the fleeing crowd as they disperse, many of them clipping you as they hurry for the gates out of the square. Agile as you are on your feet, you start to duck and weave between the people as they rush by.

Fire 4+1, 1d6 (6)
vs
Fire 4, 1d6 (3)

Taking your chances, you hop up onto the rows of chairs, running along, placing one foot to the back of the foremost chair, before you launch yourself from it. You sail gracefully over the gap between yourself and the podium, clearing the officer in the way's head comfortably, landing gracefully beside a startled officer.

"What are-" he starts, while you think fast.

Air 6+1, 1d6 (5)
vs
Air 3, 1d6 (5)

"I'm an alchemist, do you know what that means?" you ask, though you don't wait for an answer to this question as you continue, speaking authoritively on your own subject matter. "Chemical testing, I just need a blood sample and I'll be able to find out whatever... He... Is," You continue, taking an small container from your bag as you do so, taking a sample of blood while inwardly cursing the fact that your superiors will likely take credit for whatever you discover in your tests, when they send your reports in. Assuming that is, that you share your results with them.


Armok:
Try as you might to come across as unassuming and beneath notice, this entire situation is chaotic enough to have the eyes of the people open, meaning that for once they stare at you, though they know not how to act upon the sight of you, the man clutching his hat as he hurries along to get there before everybody else.

Fire 4, 1d6 (6)

Lady luck smiles on you again it seems, as you hurtle past people, your cape fluttering behind you, gaining rapidly on the mysterious figure as you zip easily past the Peelers. Even as you gain on it, seeing a curious spindly bronze frame concealed by a long leather overcoat, you snatch up an apple from a nearby stall, intending to get its attention.

You overdo your attempt to throw the apple however, leaving you hopping along as you attempt to regain your balance, while the thing twirls about on the spot, raising the weapon in its hand, a rifle no less. A rifle, with a bayonet mounted on the end, that unfortunately now seems to have ended up with an apple skewered on it, as well as part of the barrel of the weapon.

Oh dear, he wasn't going to like that.


Nirur:
The crowd carried you with it as you moved towards the gate, as you allowed the panicked peoples momentum to carry you instead of fighting it. As you were carried out, taken away from the fenced in area, you were given breathing room once again, now able to travel around the outside of the area if need be. You could see the multiple people chasing the gunman from here, though their bodies obscured him, yet there was something more. You could overhear the sound of two of the Peelers talking in hushed tones as they tended to injuries sustained in the initial panic.

"Someone should call the Royal Guard in, they'd sweep this mess up right quick," stated the one, while the other gave him a strange look.

"I don't think th'Queen would be willin' t'send 'er personal Guard in af'er they called 'er mad, bless 'er soul."


Abculatter:
One would have expected your heavy replacement limbs to have slowed you down here, yet nothing could be further from the truth. While they were indeed quite heavy, they quite easily made up for their additional weight by being as easily controlled as any other of your limbs should have been.

Fire 4, 1d6 (2)

Unfortunately, you were for the most part slowed down by the Peelers, forced to watch as others rushed on ahead, though it was only a select few that got ahead. Even so, the sound of your heavy bronze leg echoed through the streets, announcing that something big and tough was on its way - and that something big and tough was you.


Criptfeind:
As an outsider to this land, people make all the less effort to be mindful of your presence as they attempt to flee, pushing and shoving as they attempt to pass you by. Like the flickering flame you twist and leap as you push past these people and hurry after the gunman, knowing you'll have to make your way through the group of uniformed men ahead of you who are running almost in formation ahead.

Fire 6, 1d6 (3)

You are fast, yet one still is faster, a curious figure who streaks ahead of you, clutching his hat as he seems to dodge every pothole in the road, as he seems to find the most even ground, as he puts distance between you and everyone else. Hot on his heels you arrive just after him, just in time to see that the gunman you sought, is far from human.



Those who had chased the gunman would see it looking between the strange man who had arrived at the scene first and the weapon that it held, giving the others a chance to catch up as it let out a sigh. An artificial voice made that sigh, for this thing was a figure of bronze, wrapped in a leather overcoat, a figure with a single green glowing eye peering out from a smooth bronze head. This figure was similar to the Guardians that were absent from the streets only so far as the green eye - that the guardians bore two of, and the bronze form.

The guardians were much bulkier, much heavier set while this thing seemed spindly in comparison. This thing had three fingers present at the end of each hand, two toes at the front of each foot and a third at the back for counterbalance. What was visible of its form was masterfully fitted, overlapping bronze plates moving over each other for the visible joints.

"Curious," it stated, looking over those present one by one, at the arriving Peelers as they pulled their standard issue revolvers from their holsters and started to level them with it. "While I foresaw pursuit occuring, I could not have predicted... An Apple would be used against me," It stated, its artificial voice bearing the same pitch throughout. It seemed almost as if it was waiting now it had been caught, though for what, it was not clear.

[RAM]

I try to get a closer look at the mayor, trying to figure out what is different about him.

[Silleh Boy]

((Consider this one bumped in with the other people's actions, as you're not too far off.))

RAM:
With another of the Technomancers having already gotten close, already having managed to placate the officer that challenged him and start gathering samples, you were not challenged as you closed in. While the Technomacers were always the target of jokes, always viewed as the second-best of the two big technological guilds, sometimes even viewed as the nearest you could legally get to mad scientists, there was no doubt in their expertise.

At least when they weren't leaving craters with their expertise.

You were able to get close enough to see that the mayor was inhuman in a sense, yet ever so clearly human at the same time. Some features had changed, such as his eyes, his teeth and his general mass, yet the rest of him was clearly human, had it been the form of a well preserved human who was long dead. It was almost as if he had been, that what blood he had in his body was kept pumping merely enabled what remained of a body that was older still than it appeared, to continue this mockery of life.

Both human and not.

Clearly though, he was monster enough that his very speech, doubled with how he had visibly lost hold on the illusion, however it was maintained, had gone before the people watching as he was assassinated. Unfortunately, further insight you knew, would require much greater attention, potentialy an autopsy. It would require much that you knew would not be permitted, with how they would hide the body and sweep the incident under the rug.

Yet the damage was still done.

[Criptfeind]

"What are mechanical man?" Eather Zorak said as he slowly approached the thing. "Why did you kill that monster... or more importantly did you know what it was?"

At this he slowly grabbed for his Tekagi-shuko with both hands and started to wrap his hands in a warm blanket of superheated air.

[RAM]

[thinking]How could something live like that? how does it work?[/thinking] Edward began to obsess over the body, desperate for a closer look, a more thorough examination. Although that would require him getting a hold of the body. [thinking]Maybe I could, no, they would never hire me. If I disguised myself! No, they will be wary of that. While they are still confused... Maybe some smoke, a distraction, a loud noise![/thinking] Edward fled to a nearby alleyway and began trying to combine a shotgun bullet and some metal sheeting, along with some soot from the walls, into a buzzing, spinning contraption that would expel smoke and sounds. [thought]But where could I take it? If I left they would spot me. Perhaps I could hide it. In the podium? It would leave a trail. Maybe I could collapse the whole thing? Not enough explosives. Maybe... What if I disguised it as someone who fainted, I could leave it on a rooftop, nobody looks- except for the vultures...

[Nirur Torir]

((I'm not sure what I was thinking earlier, but Henry was clearly not close enough to have noticed it changing shape. I retcnned my previous action into him just getting out of there.

This is mostly an idle turn for me, with my character doing nothing but learning what I already know while other players interact with the interesting events elsewhere.))

Henry barely noticed that the crowds had thinned. Sure, he'd heard of assassinations, but he'd never seen anyone die before. His mind reeling, he continued wandering aimlessly for a few hours, catching occasional snippets of conversation from excited citizens.

"... Like he was covering up something. I think ..."

"... Never did trust the Technomancers. Crazies who only want to blow everything up, and ..."

"... Fault of fanatical monarch-woshippers, I say. Progress is the only way we'll ..."

He stared into a fountain while sorting his thoughts. From the sound of things, it would be quite dangerous if the Technomancers were in charge. Ignoring other factors, it was better to have a greedy despot in charge then a well-intentioned, disorganized group of people who wanted nothing more then to study explosions, he reasoned, and it was unlikely to be a case of good-yet-insane guild, bad queen. If it came to open warfare, he would side with the queen. Until then, he had other things to worry about. Like food.

[RAM]

I think that the technomancers and the technocracy are different groups.

[abculatter_2]

Hmmm... I'm curious as to the true nature of this... thing, but having my character halt in the middle of a headlong rush for, of all things, curiosity just seems a bit out-of-character...