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[lawastooshort]

Chapter Two, Part 25

10.40pm, Saturday 26th January, 1906, Geneva, Avenue de la Mairie

I say! This really won’t do old chap! You know that case belongs to His Majesty!

Aim gun at First German Ulrich, but give Smith time to  concentrate on his batting before firing so the blast don't cause him to miss, of course!

Watching the German climb the rope ladder into the basket of his get-away Zeppelin, von Fersen expertly aims his gun at the escaping spy, and holds fire to give Smith time to bat the cad to smithereens [5].

“Come on Smith, your turn at the crease old boy!”

Cricket bat the doorknob at the German! Then demand surrender.

You may as well just surrender and give it to us now! It really is causing us quite a bother you know! Quite an inconvenience! You should be ashamed!

Right on cue, Smith takes Scriver’s Doorknob from his jacket pocket, and tosses it into the air. He smacks it with the centre of his walking bat stick! It whistles through the air, straight as a bullet. An exploding door furniture bullet! The noise of its flight is so horrendously loud it drowns out the beginnings of McGeenyton’s speech beside Smith, and Ulrich the German hears it coming!

He pops his head over the parapet of his basket to see what is causing this unruly disturbance, and he sees the approaching projectile. He catches the doorknob [5]! It explodes in his hand! His face is pierced! His eyes are bruised! His hand is shorn off! It flies away! A small piece of exploding doorknob shrapnel slices gently through the skin of the Zeppelin, which starts to drift softly to the ground away from the watching gentlemen [5+1 Time to Concentrate bonus+1 Weaponised Cricket bonus].

Item Lost! Scriver's Doorknob!

Slice the rope ladder with my top hat!

It’s just the right thing to do! Come on man, listen to your common sense! Listen to your sense of honour! Are we not brothers in gentlemanship? Care you not for the welfare of the Elk?

As McGeenyton continues his speech, his voice becoming louder and louder to overcome the increasing distance and the ceaseless interruptions, Mr Wellington bends to one knee next to him, removing his top hat and aiming it at the rope ladder wafting about beneath the out of control dirigible, which slowly drifts further away over the gilded round dome of Geneva’s town hall.

He launches his fragmentation top hat with great speed! It flies straight and true into the space where the rope ladder was a few seconds ago! It hits the sinking airship!

The top hat goes off! The Zeppelin ignites! A terrifying ball of flame explodes over central Geneva, nearly five hundred yards across!

The burning wreckage of the Zeppelin collapses on the town hall. A dozen small fires start to burn [1].

Item Lost! Fragmentation top hat!

…   …   …   …   …   …

Come on old boy, just hand it over! Give us the case and everything will be as it was bef-oh. I say. Blast.

Make a louder speech.

Blown over a hundred yards away by the explosion, the one-handed Ulrich suddenly flops to the floor at the feet of the speechifying Henry McGeenyton, who has kept up his demand for surrender. Ulrich is holding the dispatch case. He’s been horrifically wounded by the impact with the ground and the force of the explosion, but miraculously still seems to be breathing [6].

“Anyway, where was I?” continues the Englishman, shouting as politely as he can at the bleeding German. “A damned inconvenience, what! Bloody surrender and we’ll ensure safe passage to a neutral country or something. You’ll be well treated! It’s the right thing to do if you ever want to see Munich again you know! The beer! The lovely frauleins! The sausages! I’ll even knock you up a nice cup of tea! Well, I’ll ask the butler to see to it, in any case. Not entirely sure how one goes about making tea, myself. Quite sure it involves heating water, but then I’m not entirely sure how one goes about that. Not a fan of manual labour myself, you see. Ruins the complexion. Uncreases the trouser. Hey! I say! Will you bloody listen to me you impolite bounder! Ope- oh. Blast.”

Ulrich has been struck down! [6+1 Tedious Oratory bonus].

The sirens of the forces of order begin to wail in the orange light of burning central Geneva.

The mission has been a success!

Spoiler: Clarity Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The German won initiative… McGeenyton came last.

The five gentlemen are currently standing in the Avenue de la Mairie in central Geneva, a hundred yards from the Town Hall. Which is burning. The dispatch case is at McGeenyton’s feet.

Next turn will be Friday if enough actions are posted, otherwise Monday.

[scriver]

"Ah! Bloody good show, eh chaps!"

I suggest we grab suitcase and escape under the cover of night, laying low at the hotel to avoid Swiss authorities while we make reparations to Wellingtons airship and then fly back to England in it. What do the rest of you think?

[lawastooshort]

A bump so I can write the turn before the weekend.

[areyoua]

Well, I personally believe that it would take too much time to repair the zeppelin, and that we should try to get on the first train out of here before our faces are plastered around the walls of Geneva. Then again, we did just blow up the train station...

We do need to take our leave of Geneva, though, or at least avoid detection by the police. To that effect, I suggest that we all try to avoid detection and leave Geneva for the nearest city that has a working train station. Preferably someplace in France, seeing as Geneva is right next to it. Also preferably, find a cab to take us there as walking such a length seems distasteful.

[_DivideByZero_]

Umm... okay. I meant to slice the ladder, not to destroy the thing...

Sob a bit for my hat and propose that we casually hide in the nearest apparel store.

[Geen]

I shall take the suitcase, as I obtained it nonviolently, and therefore deserve the honor of doing so. Offer our newfound friend tea, and head to the zeppelin.

[scriver]

Well, I personally believe that it would take too much time to repair the zeppelin

I meant the one we landed on the hotel with earlier, not the one we just destroyed, in case you got them mixed up. But yeah, maybe you're right. Wellington will have to have the English Ambassador mail it to him later, then

I shall take the suitcase, as I obtained it nonviolently, and therefore deserve the honor of doing so. Offer our newfound friend tea, and head to the zeppelin.

Forgive me, old boy, but I am very confused - what new friend? And which zeppelin are you refering to?

[lawastooshort]

I shall take the suitcase, as I obtained it nonviolently, and therefore deserve the honor of doing so. Offer our newfound friend tea, and head to the zeppelin.

Forgive me, old boy, but I am very confused - what new friend? And which zeppelin are you refering to?

I assumed he meant the dead German that he just talked to death at his feet. And probably the Zeppelin parked at the hotel.

Umm... okay. I meant to slice the ladder, not to destroy the thing...

And well, yes, if you throw an explosive top hat at anything and get a [1]...


edit: perhaps I won't do the turn today as I'm not 100% clear what you want to do

[Geen]

Even the dead need tea.

[lawastooshort]

Chapter Two, Part 26

10.41pm, Saturday 26th January, 1906, Geneva, Avenue de la Mairie

“Are you all right dear boy?” asks Smith of Mr Wellington, as this latter wipes a tear away from the corner of his eye, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so emotional.”

“My bloody hat! My blasted bloody hat, that bloody blasted German!”

“I say, steady on old bean,” interjects von Fersen, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard such vulgarity from you before.”

“You’re right. No point crying over spilt hats, what. Let’s get a bloody move on and get out of this blasted country. I suggest we start by casually hiding in that blasted top hat shop while someone summons a bloody cab, by Jove.”

“Ah – good. They might have robbed you of your hat, but they haven’t robbed you of your good sense, I can see,” says Smith, “It would be distasteful to do any more walking, one has to say. Now, how about you casually hide in the shop whilst I summon a cab, eh?

“How about,” interrupts McGeenyton, “How about I pick this bloody dispatch case up? Didn’t we come all the way to bloody Switzerland for it? Bloody hell Wellington, I seem to have caught a bad case of vulgaritis profanus from you. Blast. Oh, by the way, mein herr, how about a cup of tea?”

“Prof what?” asks von Fersen.

…   …   …   …   …   …

Having narrowly escaped having to submit to the hideous ordeal of a Zeppelin chase through the Swiss Alps, our intrepid Gentleman Spies hail a cab amongst the smouldering ruins of central Geneva and head for the French border...

…   …   …   …   …   …


GM ANNOUNCEMENT

I’m sorry chaps, I’m going to have to put this in suspended animation for an undecided length of time. I think enthusiasm amongst us all has been falling as this chapter splutters to a messy end, and although my enthusiasm for continuing has been somewhat improved by thinking about what I had planned for the next chapters (fighting steam-punk Viking mercenaries, devising the downfall of an incompetent gentleman through shame or violence, protecting the King himself from horse-drawn Zeppelin attack and more, including Knighthood for the more Gentlemanly amongst you), the enthusiasm alone can’t help my main current problem:

I injured my wrist and typing too much hurts. Blast.

The delay in this update is kind of due to both reasons, but, I will admit, mostly due to just not being able to get it out. If I give it a bit of a rest I will be able to concentrate on my other RTD without too much typing and then either a) I might come back to this with renewed vigour; b) I might think of something else awesome to do; or c) I might not come back to this at all, I guess. If a), I will PM you, if you'd like.

I’ve enjoyed writing for you so far, thanks very much.

[Powder Miner]

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hope you get better.

[Hitty40]

Heh. When I saw 'Mourning', I was like 'Shit, someone else died.'

[Geen]

Hope it gets better. Or you get a robo-wrist. Either, really.

[scriver]

I'm mourning to, for this great RTD. If we ever continue, or start anew maybe, I will definitely want to be there to fight the viking steampunk mercenary ninja spacehunks with you.

[Powder Miner]

By your updating other RTDs, I'd be guessing your wrist ha shealed. Any hanc of a revival for this exquisite RTD?