The City of Steam MK.II (IC/Open)

[Cymrea]

The Chloria

Colonel Aries bowed respectfully as Clara led Beatrice away. Harrold turned to him. "How goes business with your brother and yourself?"

"Oh, I don't keep up on all the details of Samuel's business dealings. I never could get my head around all those numbers and corporate maneuverings," the colonel demurred. In truth, he was sharply aware of the inner workings of Aries Combat Engineering, but this was not information he shared with anyone, preferring instead to appear oblivious. "My aptitudes have always been in the martial disciplines, Lord Dace. It's the cavalry for men such as myself."

He winked his good eye; he always made sure the black marble eye was left staring. "And so much the better for our fair city, I should say." Colonel Aries changed his mind and sipped at the bubbly in his flute. It was, of course, of the highest quality.

"And how fare the Dace concerns?" he riposted.

[Pinki3 Pon-3]

Janet
Janet looked up at Blank Check briefly before returning her attention to her small mech project. The fiery little mech had stood up for her, albeit unnecessarily, but it was the thought that counted.
"Looks like old wear and tear caused a rupture in the fuel valves."
She moved some of the damaged metal around tentatively, cautious of hot parts while trying to figure out the best way to fix the small mech.

[Pinki3 Pon-3]

The Chloria
Hollard Dace smiled cheerfully and chuckled,
"I'm sure there are some similarities to your cavalry tactics. But fair enough, each unto his own."
He said while he pondered the affairs of his own business.
"Well . . . Lately Clara hasn't been feeling to well, but I'm sure its just a case of the common cold. Doctor Whitehall is coming to check up on her tomorrow. On the commercial front, Dace ind. Is holding out. Few small competitors popping up here and there, but we outstrip them greatly. In all honesty, it is a little unfair to expect someone to start a competing business for the old giants of today."
He said thoughtfully, leaning against a pillar. He himself had never been one for all the smoke and mirrors some elitists used. He and his ancestors had earned their place through hard work and great dedication. Even now, when Lord Dace had a fortune, he could still be found venturing down to the assembly floor of his great factories, checking on the product and the workers. If your hands didn't hold it, and your eyes didn't see every detail, then you can't take credit for it. He always said when quizzed on the topic.
Somewhere on the ballroom floor, a commotion of hushed whispers and weary glances marked the arrival of a more notorious participant in the Game of Rumours. Jasper Hawke strode confidently onto the ballroom floor, his short, practical haircut styled rather fetchingly. His dapper suit however, was nowhere to be seen. Instead he wore an old, faded shirt underneath a sturdy leather jacket. His trousers had the texture of workman's duds, but had been slightly tightened so as to prevent any clumsy stumbling caused by excess fabric. His heavy hiking boots looked like they could spin a few yarns of their own about great epics. Hollard chuckled once more, he himself was less involved in the elitist's petty games of intrigue than Jasper. Jasper was the man with a finger on the pulse of the city. Part treasure hunter, part extortionist. Everyone knew he was guilty of blackmail, but the only ones who stood to gain from unveiling it were the ones he was holding secrets for. The unfaithful husband whose summer soiree with a mistress might be quite the blow to his business. The wife who might have, once or twice, strayed from her husband's side in times of loneliness. The under handed heir who had slipped a little something into their patron's supper to shuffle the mortal coil slightly faster. Jasper had a knack for finding out, and for profiting from it.
Silence is golden . . . And I'm the miner.
He would say. He approached the pair with a slick smile as he shook Hollard's hand,
"Lord Dace, it's good to see an honest man in a flying mansion."
He said with a chuckle before turning to the Colonel, immediately the false eye betrayed its owner's identity.
"Ah, and Colonel Aries I presume? Very good to make your acquaintance."

[Saestea]

Blank Check

Being familiar with the small mech's model, Blank Check quickly assessed the damage and scratched his chin. The fires in this kind of mech's head were driven sometimes by emotion alone. It could have well been the cause of the rupture, with too much gas being transported to the burner all at once. Blank turned to Janet, looking rather perplexed.

"Was it angry before this happened?" he asked. "If so, then... That was the cause."

Blank turned back to the colt behind him and then looked around. The colt shrugged. The other two were nearby now, as well.
If Bany work was to be done, someone would have to find supplies. But neither Blank nor his brothers knew where to get the needed equipment. He only had his wrench and his screwdriver. In truth he'd ask somebody for them, but he'd spoken enough for this day. Waiting for someone to get the needed equipment to get the clockwork up and running again, Blank looked around, then at his brother, who couldn't understand all his glances and small gestures.

[Cymrea]

The Chloria

Colonel Aries made sympathetic noises and acknowledged Dace's words. The man was certainly more earnest than he remembered; perhaps age and experience made for a more consciencious heart. That was something to consider.

I'd have to get one of those, first, he mused. Of the many things the colonel could be accused of, an overabundance of heart or conscience were not among them.

A second cyclone of whispers rose in the ballroom, twirling gowns as they turned to follow the path of the storm's eye. Jasper Hawke strode into view, and the colonel strove mightily not to roll his eyes. If there was a man of less moral integrity and conscience than Colonel Aries, it was the puffed-up peacock strutting in Dace's direction. By virtue of his proximity to Dace, he too was caught in Hawke's path.

Hawke shook Hollard's hand. "Lord Dace, it's good to see an honest man in a flying mansion."

You wouldn't recognise honesty if it bit you square in your ass, boy, thought the colonel as he fixed a polite smile to his lips.

Then Hawke turned his genial facade to him, flicking his eyes almost imperceptibly to Aries' own.

"Ah, and Colonel Aries, I presume? Very good to make your acquaintance."

The colonel switched the champagne flute to his right hand, seemingly without thought. It provided an inarguable excuse not to shake the peacock's hand. Such subtle maneuvers were all part of the game.

"Mr. Hawke," he said in response. "My reputation appears to precede me. How do you do, sir?"

[Morlodania]

"The machine would never take me alive, I'd be vanished and gone before it ever got close. I'm just good like that." Trit nods and glances over at Kiera worriedly. "Really, I'm just trying to bring food home... Nothing more, just an errand." Trit places a hand on Kiera's shoulder, giving her a concerned look. "Stay calm, Kiera... We'll be out of here in a short while." She looks back to Siem and shrugs. "Depends... What exactly do you do?"

Kiera smiles gently and nods. "Thanks. First time anyone really cared." Kiera puts her rifle on her back and checks her pistol while mumbling to herself. "All six shots, good. Hate to run out of ammo. Should I buy more? Down to my last couple ammo boxes. Maybe I should get some welding fuel. Need to fix my shoulder joint again. Been acting up. Hmm, so many decisions. Sorry for carrying on. It's a twitch I have when I'm nervous. Kind of a verbal defense mechanism."

Trit places a finger to Kieras metal lips, shaking her head in amusement. "You're the opposite of Pell, then... He just gets really quiet and contained when he's nervous." She looks to Siem and frowns a little. "If that be your function, in what way can I trust you? If you live and exist to conduct infiltration, recon, to disguise and distract, how can I be expected to trust you are not simply recon-ing me, gathering information on myself or those about me? How can I know your form is not a disguise, that you are simply not going to come around and stab me in the back in the end?" Trit faces the machine fully, crossing her arms and looking both very defiant, and very serious. "I barely trust Kiera, no offence to her, how can I be expected to trust you as well, given what you just said?"

[Fascist Russian Empire]

Inquisitor

Well, that's simple enough, I suppose. Inquisitor thought as Janet listed off all the things that she needed to repair Cinder, giving an acknowledging nod to Janet, although she wasn't paying much attention to him anyway. He unfolded his wings and prepared to fly out to get the supplies Janet asked for, only to be interrupted by Pitch Black offering to accompany him to get the things Janet needed. "Well, sure, Pitch, I suppose that's fine." Inquisitor said to Pitch, a little taken back by the fact that Pitch actually wanted to be with him. He didn't exactly mind going with Pitch, but it was certainly surprising to have the unicorn invite Inquisitor to come along with him. "Say, would we even actually have any of the supplies Janet wanted stored here at the plantation? SECA is, after all, a military organization; engineering isn't exactly our expertise. I find it hard to believe that we would have brass plating and fireproof caulking just sitting around in a storage shed somewhere." Inquisitor said, realizing that it was rather far fetched to think that SECA would have parts to repair a mech in their storage. SECA didn't have unlimited funds, and they had an almost constant need to fight, so thinking that SECA would waste money on anything non-military related would be ridiculous.

[Nuclear Aftermath]

Kiera smiles gently and nods. "Thanks. First time anyone really cared." Kiera puts her rifle on her back and checks her pistol while mumbling to herself. "All six shots, good. Hate to run out of ammo. Should I buy more? Down to my last couple ammo boxes. Maybe I should get some welding fuel. Need to fix my shoulder joint again. Been acting up. Hmm, so many decisions. Sorry for carrying on. It's a twitch I have when I'm nervous. Kind of a verbal defense mechanism."

Trit places a finger to Kieras metal lips, shaking her head in amusement. "You're the opposite of Pell, then... He just gets really quiet and contained when he's nervous." She looks to Siem and frowns a little. "If that be your function, in what way can I trust you? If you live and exist to conduct infiltration, recon, to disguise and distract, how can I be expected to trust you are not simply recon-ing me, gathering information on myself or those about me? How can I know your form is not a disguise, that you are simply not going to come around and stab me in the back in the end?" Trit faces the machine fully, crossing her arms and looking both very defiant, and very serious. "I barely trust Kiera, no offence to her, how can I be expected to trust you as well, given what you just said?"

Kiera frowns and crosses her arms. "Wow, thanks for the consideration and support, Trit." She says sarcastically as she pouts and rolls her eyes. "But I agree. How can we trust a machine who's sole purpose is to deceive. That's like trusting a snake not to bite you when you piss it off." Kiera puts her hands on her hips. "How DO we know you won't just double cross us, Siem?"

[The Flutterlands]

Pitch Black

"Actually," said Pitch, "We do have the parts. You see, when I was a colt, I once had a mech quite similar to Cinders. However, as part of a punishment, my former owners destroyed it. I managed to salvage the parts, even though, I have no idea how to rebuild the mech. When I joined SECA, I have stored the parts here. I'm not sure if they would work due to the age of the parts or that many of them are usable due to their condition, but, it's the best I can do." Pitch sighed and sulked his head. He really missed playing his mech, back when he was young. However, Pitch figured that he could put the mech's remains to good use.

[Pinki3 Pon-3]

Janet
Janet turned and looked to Pitch upon hearing his observation,
"Bring them quickly then. I'll salvage what I can. We should be able to save this little guy."
She said, suddenly feeling too distracted for her usual paranoia. Anyone one of these ponies could be plotting her demise, and for once, she wasn't all that bothered.
"My you are a remarkable machine."
She murmured quietly as she began removing unsalvagable parts from Cinder.

Siem
Siem paused, its mechanisms ticking softly as it pondered the conundrum it had been presented with.
"Well, I'll admit, I hadn't thought about that. . . Hmm, well I suppose if you really think about it, you can't. But what guarantee do you have that you can trust anyone? At least I was honest about my purpose."
It replied with its small, reedy voice.

The Chloria
Jasper Hawke retracted his hand, noting the discourtesy shown by the general.
"Of course sir. Not all us common folk can have a legacy such as yours. I am doing quite well, than you for asking. Simply handing over an item to Lord Dace over here."
He said rummaging around in his backpack. He handed over a small parcel.
"Ah! The dynamo. Thank you kindly Mr Hawke. Will you be staying for the celebration?"
"No, I think it would be best if I were on my way."
Jasper replied flatly before turning to leave. Hollard bid him farewell before returning to his conversation with the colonel.
"Quite the move you made there Colonel. I did not take a man of your stature for being one to take quarrel on first sight."
He said with a sigh and a shrug.
"No matter, do enjoy the celebration. I need to discuss some things with Professor Stahl, if you would like you can accompany me. But I'm sure the other guests are getting quite jealous."
He said and strode off cheerfully to a rather short man leaning against one of the gargantuan pillars.

[Cymrea]

The Chloria

"Quarrel? I'm quite sure, I have no idea what you mean, sir. I will say, though, that Mr. Hawke is as well known to my family as he is to yours. As to your invitation, I do believe I will take you up on it. I'm afraid I've been away from the soirée circuit long enough that I'm not entirely familiar with all your guests."

Colonel Aries joined Dace in meeting Professor Stahl.

[The Flutterlands]

Pitch Black

Pitch nodded almost begrudgingly. He wasn't doing this for Janet, he was doing this for Cinders and his own mech, Rusty. Nonetheless, Pitch turned and headed to his living quaters in the HQ, given to him by Bolt Breaker. The black stallion looked under his bed and took out a box labed 'Rusty'. Pitch opened it and sighed sadly as he examined the mech's remains, before closing the box once more. He went back downstairs, taking the box with him, and showed them to Janet. "Will these do?" he asked.

[Crumlark]

The walls groaned around him, shuddering with the force of a city that fought to live in times of unrest. What little light that filtered through the ground far above was dimly cast on his surroundings, as if a petulant child had a fit and strewn visibility where random chance and rage had designated for it to be. Such were the thoughts of a knight out of his time, and his head.
Sir Mormente put a gloved hand to the wall on his left while he walked forward, feeling the rumbling and cool sheet of metal as a sort of assurance he was not preparing to stumble deeper in the dark guts of the city, where he was sure to meet a terrible death by being smashed between two of the gears that gave the world above him the means to live a terrible life.
"Surely, it is not much further..." He whispered to himself, adjusting the pelt around his neck with a free hand. For a short while longer, all he could do was admire the grandeur that only the engineers and himself could fully appreciate. He walked past cogs as large as men circle around eachother, and ones resembling dinner-plates that changed the direction of another gear halfway through it's rotation. This was the breath of the City, taking in sweat and breathing out steam.
He listened keenly on his trek, trying to make out a more organic sound that has become familiar to him now, the odd one out in a world of clamor and clanging. As he walked on, he could see less and less, and felt it necessary to take out the oil lamp he kept on his belt. He grumbled to himself, feeling about his pockets and fumbling for a match. Failing to find what he needed, he shrugged out of apathy. "I suppose I will feed the poor sod tomorrow morning instead."
And with that, instead of electing to return to his estate the way he came into the steamworks, he looked about for the nearest ladder.

[Sungai Pusat]

Silent Gust took a deep breath and sighed, his tone calm in nature. Scanning his surroundings, his eyes shifted from left to right in swiftness as he narrowed his vision to very specific parts of the area that he was in. Many of the buildings had gone into a state of disrepair, several with broken glasses and very few with any signs of life in them. He tore his gaze from the state of the barren structures that struggled to stand around him, checking in haste for any signs of mechs arriving at the scene.

He tore his glances still to the manhole cover he stood on, reaching for it with his teeth and gripping it with gumption as he pulled it from the manhole as quickly as he could.

A minute had past. A few of the sheets of paper had fallen from the two big bags he had under him, fastened onto his abdomen with rope. He took the sheet in his mouth and dove into the hole, quickly gripping onto the ladder's first few rungs from the surface to stall his fall, causing several of those sheets to fly into the sewers. Chuckling softly, he looked back up, both of his hooves reaching for the cover's rims. His cheeks flushed profusely as his still light built ultimately prevented him from pulling the cover any more quickly than he would've liked, letting out soft groans, his body pulsing slightly at the weight above him.

Finally, in a sharp, swift motion, he sealed off most of the hole, his hooves stuck through the remainder of the opening. Pulling his hooves in, he pushed onto the cover's rims and covered the remainder off, thus beginning his descent into the sewers.

He let out a sigh of relief, quietly taking in the wretched stench that the sewer pipes had accumulated over years of use.

Picking up the very last sheets of paper that had fallen to the side of the currently flowing stream of sludge and water, Silent Gust began humming softly as he trotted down the path that had always been taken for the past few years or so from his discovery of SECA, passing underneath the city's main areas and stopping shy of its heart, towards their headquarters.

He kept a stoic look on his face, albeit with a small crease of a smile on it as he ceased his humming, trotting down the side of the sewers with abated breath, as has always been the case for the past few years.

---

After what felt like hours of a ceaseless march, he had finally arrived at where he wanted to be, stopping shy of the pipe's wide discharge into a nearby lake. His small, genial smile remaining, he trotted back to the nearest opening to the surface possible, proceeding then to climb out into the surface.

Looking out into the distance, he spotted the SECA headquarters' building, discreetly decorated as such from its exterior, its farmhouse-like nature remaining intact.

Taking a deep breath, he began trotting towards the building.

He knew some ponies wouldn't be appreciative of what he was doing and would think that he was exploiting the ponies there of what little money they had, which was true to an extent. He felt a pang in his heart knowing he had to take some of the money they had put in for the sole activity he could offer them with what little he had himself so that he and his teacher could stay afloat.

Regardless, though, he assured himself under his breath, he was being as responsible as he could with their money. He had heard from his teacher and, to a lesser extent, seen for himself what could happen from too much of what he felt was a good thing, just a simple activity to give them something to do on the weekends.

Stopping to beat his chest lightly, he smiled inwardly and continued forward to the headquarters, hoping that, akin to the weeks before, there'd be enough support for him to set up his little lottery-like game again like he'd always done for the past few years within the city.

He's just hoping that the pony there would allow him to.

OOC: Someone is going to have to help me with regards to the sanitation technology that the city used at the time, otherwise this just won't make any sense.

Also, I apologise for any lack of posts before, I had simply run out of steam then. ^^'

(Also, I added a tiny bit at the end to make the later posts make sense)

[Pinki3 Pon-3]

Janet/Bolt(For Sungai as well)
Janet turned to Pitch once more, inspecting the scrapped mech he had brought with him.
"Indeed, these shall do nicely."
She replied after sliding on a pair of leather protective gloves. She worked like lightning, removing ruptured pipes and bent gears before laying them out in some sort of order that seemed only clear to her eyes. Then she would glance over to Pitch's mech before reaching in and deftly removing a similar piece before replacing it inside Cinder. To one side, Bolt Breaker stood, watching the repairs with a quiet annoyance. The girl knew things, important things. Bolt didn't have the time to have her fix every single broken piece of tech around. The sooner she finished, the sooner they could get to business. Bolt Breaker noticed a newcomer appearing on the plot, a pony. Bolt began walking at a measured pace. The usual amount of calm and poise emanating from the masked, mysterious pony.
"State your business stranger."
Bolt said to Silent Gust bluntly, feeling no patience for foolishness trivialities given the recent going ons of the day.

The Chloria
Hollard Dace approached Professor Stahl, feeling a slight irritation towards Colonel Aries. This game the elitists played was disgraceful, they toyed with each other's lives, not pieces on a board that could be reset. In this game, a subtle refused handshake was as bad as a slap in the face. Everyone had seen it, everyone knew where the Colonel stood towards Hawke. The subtleties weren't so subtle when everyone knew what to look for, like a secret language being spoken near those fluent in it. Hollard decided, as usual, this was not his life to squander on a game of ruin. The professor looked up towards Dace with a nervous smile,
"Is it . . . "
He said, tacitly asking after the dynamo. Hollard pulled the wrapped object out of his pocket and handed it to the professor,
"Here you are Professor Stahl, the key to electricity in the city. Colonel Aries. Professor Stahl."
He said, introducing the two cordially, yet efficiently.

The Steamworks
A pale white unicorn flashed into existence in front of Sir Mormonte. At her side stood the brass and iron alloyed girth of a bruiser, its mechanical eyes trained on the human while the unicorn approached.
"You are not permitted within the steamworks sir. Kindly allow the mech to escort you out. Should you choose to disobey this command, you will be forcibly ejected from the steamworks and I cannot guarantee that no harm shall come to your person."
She said in a calm measured pace. Her voice was soft, like a keening wind, but it cut through the noise of the steamworks, piercing through the grinding gears and pounding pistons. The mech at her side stepped forward, blocking Sir Mormonte's path with its bulk. Clankers raced past on their spindly claws, travelling every which way through the tunnels of the city. Some were patchworks of various ages of metal, others were shiny and new, but all were busy, and none noticed the human presence amongst them.

[Fascist Russian Empire]

Inquisitor

Inquisitor felt somewhat bad, listening to Pitch's story about how he used to have a mech; of course, considering the less than friendly history the two ponies had, Inquisitor wouldn't lose any sleep over it, but he still sympathized somewhat with Pitch Black. He stood back and quietly watched as Pitch went into his quarters and brought back the supplies they needed; Inquisitor didn't come along, and just waited for Pitch to get the supplies. After Janet said that the parts Pitch brought would work just fine in Cinder's repairs, Inquisitor prepared to say something, only to be interrupted by a new pony arriving at the plantation; Inquisitor knew the majority of the ponies at SECA, considering his tendency to try and help everyone in need, but he didn't recognize the new pony. Inquisitor figured he was either new to SECA or was just plain lost; either way, Inquisitor didn't spend too much time looking at or thinking about Silent Gust.

"Well, it's certainly nice that you happened to have the parts Cinder needed, Pitch Black. Of course, I give my condolences for the loss of your friend, but it is most certainly nice that you had something on hoof to fix up Cinder. Truth be told, I don't actually care much about the mech, but it obviously means a lot to Janet, and I'm sure fixing Cinder up would make her happy, so I suppose it's the right thing to do." Inquisitor commented to Pitch Black; Inquisitor really didn't care about Cinder, or any other mech for that matter, since he considered them to be nothing more than worthless and soulless hunks of metal, but it would make Janet happy, so Inquisitor figured helping repair Cinder was the right thing to do.

[New Babylonia]

Silent Thunder

It took true restraint for Silent to withhold his laughter at the headline detailing the brutal and gruesome murders of the once living wealthy family which had owned him. He'd sold everything he could carry with him from the house, and hid the money. He could do nothing for the rest of his life, and be fine. But what fun was there in that? No, this city was huge, the population was massive, human, and wealthy. No no, they must die, all of them, as many as he can take before he dies. Surely the city would catch onto him, and he knew fighting off the first few attempts to apprehend or kill him, rather, would be easy. The city would likely underestimate him. But eventually, he knew he'd be facing a platoon of them or more. He could beat them, maybe, if he had help. Perhaps, as much as he hates other people, perhaps he should look into freeing other servants he comes across. On the deal that for not killing them he would train them, equip them, and lead them. Hell, he could build his own army if he did this right... overthrow the city and take power for himself. Yes, yes... that's what he'll have to do. It was late, now, Silent had spent the day scouting out targets. He'd pick a large property, a massive house, hopefully with a dozen or more servants.

Night had fallen, and Silent easily slipped onto the property and stalked around the house, looking for his entrance. Finding a back door, he carefully drew a dagger, and forced it through just behind the lock. A mostly quiet cracking sound broke the lock out of place, and he was in. The dagger was sheathed, and as he entered the door was immediately charged by a anthro mare who had clearly just run to the kitchen for a knife. Unphased, Silent calmly stepped to the side at the last second, grabbed her wrist, twisted it and pulled the knife free. With her arm twisted and behind her, he stepped his right foot forward and spun around to send the left into her jaw. Letting go of her arm as the connection was made, the mare flew back into the wall, dazed and her head swirling, she tried to stare at him. The look he gave back convinced her to stay there, and the other servant which had rushed down the stairs to hesitate. He had a glass bottle, was young, and clearly very afraid.

"I'm not here for you, get out of my way or you can join this family along with the previous." The whispered words were quiet, but cutting. The colt stepped back, freeing the stairway of the imposed block. Silent nodded and walked up calmly. The colt followed behind him shortly after, and he turned to look at him with suspicion. His gaze was returned with a supporting look, it seemed as though the colt was opting to help him, though he didn't need it. But, perhaps, a navigator wouldn't be so bad. "Parents, children, relatives, how many, where are their rooms, any details to be worried about?" He asked the straightforward series of questions with a sharp whispering tone. The colt stepped up the stairs next to him, and looked both ways.

"Mother, father, 5 children, grandmother, grand father, and their financially struggling uncle. The father has an old assault rifle, grandfather has a shotgun, the eldest brothers have revolvers. The uncle carries a sword. The parents room and the grandparents are both to the left, parents on the right, grand on the left. To the right are the bedrooms of the children, the two youngest share a room, the others are separate. Continue down that hallway and go right, the door on the left is the uncles room. Go down the other way, though, and thats the servant bedroom." He looked calmly at Silent. Silent, looking back, could see something int he colts eyes that made him most confident of his grand plan. The look in the colt's eyes were akin to a look of trust, admiration, as if he were staring at a great liberator. Perfect. Hew stepped to the top of the stairs and went left, the colt following. He stopped at the door on the right, and opened it quietly. They were asleep. He glanced at the colt, who was waiting expectantly.

"For your own piece of mind, you may not want to watch." His companion gulped, and nodded. Silent walked in, and closed the door behind him. "Time for the classic blood fountain..." His yellow mane streak glowed white, with an almost airwave look to the moving light. Both their jaws were opened, slowly, almost as if normal. Their bodies awoke with a sudden jolting as he began forcibly removing the air from their lungs with a ruthless wind. Their faces were priceless, and no matter how much he tried, Silent couldn't help but laugh. he steadily increased the force, until he felt the same pulling again. And then a tear, they choked, and moments later, the fountain he longed for began spewing the beautiful red liquid. Even after the second time, it was still hilarious, and Silent collapsed to his knee in laughter. He was interrupted when a sound of shattering glass came from outside. Rushing to open the door, he found the colt with a broken bottle, and an older man on the ground, dazed heavily and bleeding profusely. Silent clicked the blade on his right boot, and kicked into the mans stomach. Without mercy, he forced his foot left. The colts eyes widened as the older man was cut open like a stuffed toy. So much so he didn't notice the grandmother had retrieved the shotgun. Rather all he saw was a dagger flying through the air, with precision that would require skill to match even with a masterfully engineered rifle into her throat. Silent removed the blade in his boot from the older man, and clicked it back in. Kicking the shotgun aside, he grabbed his dagger, and tore violently to the side, stopping short of taking her head completely off and allowing it to hang by a thread. He tore the dagger out, and, for his amusement, decided to gouge her eyes out. A perverted smirk on his face the whole time, as he let her eyes roll across the floor.

But Silent wasn't completely ignorant, he heard other footsteps outside. He walked out with his magic prepped, and threw the aim of what appeared to be one of the sons to the side. The gun went off, and Silent knew the rest of the household would be woken up. As he approached the older son, Silent turned to the colt with him, drew one of his pistols, and threw it to him. The young boy barely caught it, and looked at him with uncertainty.
"You might need that, run ahead of me and preaim that at the door of the other son. The second you see it move, fire." The colt gulped, and nodded, running ahead to do so. Silent drew his sword and continued approaching the helpless boy, who grabbed his pistol with the other hand. As he pulled the trigger, Silent's magic was already pushing back against the explosion. The pistol exploded catastrophically and fell to the ground. The boy stumbled back, with Silent calmly stepping forward. As his hand raised to backslash across his stomach, three shots rang off in the hall ahead. Silent looked past his victim and noticed the colt slowly opening the door he was infront of. The other children had exited their rooms and stared at him in horror. He looked back to Silent, who nodded. "Kill them." The colt gulped, and turned towards the children. He hesitated looked back to Silent again, before slowly nodding. As he swung across the first brother, tearing his stomach open, three more shots rang out, and three bodies fell. On his knees, the brother looked up to Silent. He mouthed several words, that made no sound. Silent snickered at him, and with to quick arcs lopped off both arms. As a final insult he kicked the body to the ground and spat on it. He handed another cylinder of ammunition to the colt, and taught him how to load it. He gave him a dagger, too, for extra protection incase any of the servants chose to fight him, and ordered him to wake and gather them downstairs with the first mare. He ran off quickly, and Silent marched calmly towards the uncles room.

As he neared the door, it suddenly kicked open, almost taking him out. He stumbled back, and fell, quickly scrambling to get up as a large man with a sabre burst out infront of him. "Finally, someone seems inclined to give a fight." The two stood momentarily, staring each other down. At a sudden and intense pace both swung at each other. A bout of parries ensued, as the uncle made very clear that he was no novice to using his weapon. Silent would loved to have beaten him with more advanced maneuvers, however, everytime he tried, the man saw through and used his overwhelming advantage in physical strength to force him to his knees. At this point he began to wonder where his little friend had gone. The bastard should be back and shooting this man by now. As he forced down again by the unbeatable weight and strength of his opponent, a sound of thunder sent blood spewing. Silent felt the air tear past him and into the heart of the best of a man. He glanced behind him, and saw a mare, she looked to be about 20 or so, and looked almost like a living flame staring down the sights of his revolver. Grateful for the support, he pushed the large man off him and onto the ground. With a triumphant foot on on his opponents chest, he cut open his throat with a quick slash. He amused himself further by cutting the mans face off with a series of expertly aimed cuts, finally satisfied.

Silent sheathed his sword, and turned to the group of servants behind him. "Took you a while..." He said gazing at the colt.

"He needed some time to convince us you weren't here to kill us." It was the same mare which had just saved him. He could tell by looking at her body language alone she was the leader of their little group. "So, as brutal and merciless as you are, why do you care to save us?" She crossed her arm, and glared at him with suspicion.

"Well, to be honest, as much as i'd like to take on the city solo and cause death and destruction, i know i can't. So, after freeing myself of my family, and them of their lives and riches, its time to move on. Take as much as you can carry in valuables, sell them, use the money to equip you, i'll train who needs it, and we'll fight this city with a brutality un matched in history. Slaughter the humans, protect each other from the cities automatons, and when the ponies come to try and take advantage, slaughter them too. We can make ourselves the dominant race. Or, you can go get captured by slave traders, or die of starvation on the streets. Pick your choice." He turned away from them, and began stuffing his pockets with anything looking like it was worth selling. Whether or not they joined him he didn't care.

"Well bout damn time i've been wanting to kill these assholes forever. You two, go loots the uncles room. Take any weapons you find. You five, get the kids rooms." The orders came from the very mare he pinned as their leader. Smart enough to tell them to take the weapons, too. Excellent.

"What about me, Firefly?" It was the colt who had helped him in the first place, and Firefly turned to him, about to speak, before Silent beat her to it.

"Go downstairs, make sure the one who tried to knife me on my way in is alright. Firefly, is it? How fitting. You take the grandparents and parents room, distribute the weapons. " She nodded, and moved along. He counted for a moment... ten. Ten recruits. They aren't much now, but given time, they'll be enough.

---

Aurora Skylight

Aurora had left Ferrous several days ago, her tools, notebooks, spells, and a sizable machine all strapped to her back. For lack of space, she had to wear her protective gear, used for building and her welding. Conveniently, it was also extremely durable in combat situations, perfect for when she needed to repair her combat creations in the field. If the map she was following was right, she should be nearing the SECA HQ now. Aurora had no doubts they would see the benefit from having her. And if they didn't, well, she had more than a few ways to convince them. She giggled at the memory brought up by this thought. She remembered forcing another scientist to agree with her by using super magnets to take command of what little metal he had in his pockets to through him violently around the room. Aurora broke into a laugh, seeing him fly into walls at brutal speeds she manipulated the magnets for a good 20 minutes. At the end of it, he agreed with her fully, and had quite the medical bill. Oddly enough, her debating skills that day seemed to scare anyone else from arguing with her. Which was a bit of a shame, she loved arguing with people, if only for being right all the time. She could tell now, by the scenery, she was getting closer to the HQ. Or at least she hoped so. She had sent a letter before she left telling them to expect her, but she was still not completely sure on where precisely she had to go. With any luck, they would be expecting her, and someone would recognize her from the description given.

[Sungai Pusat]

Bolt Breaker noticed a newcomer appearing on the plot, a pony. Bolt began walking at a measured pace. The usual amount of calm and poise emanating from the masked, mysterious pony.
"State your business stranger."
Bolt said to Silent Gust bluntly, feeling no patience for foolishness trivialities given the recent going ons of the day.

Silent Gust looked at Bolt as he pulled his sight away from the ground, giving a hint a smile as the tone of Bolt's voice hit him. He began rubbing the back of his neck, keeping his genial expression on as he coughed softly. He'd have figured that somepony might question his intent here, but this being the SECA headquarters, as he remembered, he considered it a headscratcher as he'd imagine somepony who was in the organisation to be more welcoming to the same species of beings who were freed from their masters.

Regardless, he pushed himself to smile, nodding at Bolt's question as he brought his hoof over to his baskets of paper, gesturing to it. "I came with the intent of setting up a lottery-like game."

He chuckled, tilting his head to the market with a broadened smile. "I was hoping to talk to the pony who runs the market, actually. Do you, perchance, know him?"

[The Flutterlands]

Pitch Black

Pitch sighed in relief, and made a very weak smile. He was happy to know that Rusty's remains were perfect to repair Cinder's with. It was an odd feeling, happiness. The last time he felt such an emotion was when he played with Rusty, before his destruction. The black unicorn glanced at Inquisitor for a moment, keeping that weak smile. "W-want to get something to eat?" he asked, "I-i'm feeling a bit hungry..."

[Tribenicha]

Césaire

The old ship rocked across the calm waters, it's old wood creaking loudly. The sailors remained quiet as well, simply tending to their duties and watching the waters ahead, patiently waiting for their destination to come into view. They wanted this trip to be as quick as possible.

They wanted to drop off their "cargo" and be done with it.

One of them stood at the bow, wearing a decorated blue uniform and a bicorn atop his head. He yearned to be done with this as well, as old age did not serve well with these waters.

"Capitaine." Another sailor walked up and saluted him.

"Oui?" He responded.

"He... he requests to speak with you, monsieur."

The captain's eyes widened for a moment. Césaire the Great wished to speak with him. He could not decide whether that was good or bad... The man that is seen as the hero of the people, but also the inadvertent harbinger of their destruction.

"Officer Victor shall take the deck." He ordered as he turned around and began to head down to the ex-emperor's location on the ship.

"Bon, Capitaine."

---

Césaire sat in his small metal cell within the ship's brig, his arms crossed and legs outstreched on the bench within his small prison. He stared at the wooden wall of the ship, thinking.

He thought of many things. None of which he was truly concerned about, despite the circumstance of his life. As with anything, it was simply treated as if it was an algebraic problem. Always a group of variables, always a formula and method, always an answer.

"You wished to speak, mon Empereur?" The captain asked as he stepped into the room, standing in front of the cell door.

"Oui." Was all that he received in return.

"Bon, I could use the distraction." He chuckled. "We're going to be seeing land soon enough."

"I know." The reply was dry.

"So... what was it that-"

"What do you think of the restoration?" It was asked quickly, the interrogative feel nigh nonexistent.

The captain looked confused for a moment. "The monarchical restoration, sir?"

A nod from Césaire.

"Well, monsieur..." He began. "I don't wholeheartedly apporve of it. It's what got us into this mess to begin with, the revolution, the collapse, your rising and... the um..."

"My defeat, yes." Césaire looked to the captain. "You believe this will simply start the process again, revolution first, then a war followed with the new government's inevitable collapse. The wars will bring up those that prove themselves and they shall inherit the land... before being assaulted by those that fear them. They are then cast down and forced away, into the very bowels of history where their names shall never be heard again. Their story will never be passed down to future generations, their legacy to never be properly inherented and their very ideas to be wiped from the slate. I understand."

The captain looked down, processing all of the former emperor's words.

Césaire looked back to the wall. "You'd better get back on deck, Capitain. We will be arriving at our destination soon, as I recall you telling me. Au Revoir."

---

The ash shifted underneath Césaire's feet as he steppee off of the rowboat.

"Bienvenue! This is what remains of the old world out here." The sailor stated with a chuckle.

The land was dead to say the least. Ash was all that remained on the ground. In the distance, a few pillars of steam and smoke rose into the air.

Another sailor was standing a bit more inland, holding the reigns of a white horse, Césaire's horse to be exact.

Césaire walked over to him, a nod of gratitude. "Thank you for-"

"My son was in your army." He coldly retorted. He handed Césaire the reigns. "Here, take your damn horse, I hope it tramples you."

The ex-emperor took the leather reigns in his hand, allowing the sailor to walk away, back to the rowboat with the other man.

Both of them then proceeded to shove off of the shoreline, beginning their trip back to the ship.

Césaire wiped the sweat from his brow.

It was hot out there.

"Exiled... it's about as I predicted."

Suddenly, a rifled thundered in the air, catching him by surprise. The horse neighed loudly, rearing up into the air, dragging Césaire back until he eventually lost his grip and landed on his back.

His horse then sprinted off, right in the direction of the the steam and smoke pillars in the distance.

"Deal with that, you damn tyrant!" The familiar voice of the sailor called out, followed by some laughter that roared form the ship.

The fallen emperor pushed himself up off the ground, not even bothering to look back at the ship or it's crew.

The back of his outfit was now covered in the ash from the ground, but that didn't bother him. He wasn't bothered by the acts of the sailors either. What did concern him was the fact that his horse was running off in the distance.

He began to walk after it, looking to the ground and seeing that the horse's tracks were easily visible in the ash.

"I predict that this is the first annoyance of many..."

[Fascist Russian Empire]

Inquisitor

Pitch Black had managed to surprise Inquisitor for the second time that day; the fact that Pitch would stop insulting him or his racially tolerant ideology for even five minutes was surprising enough, but for Pitch to proceed to invite Inquisitor to eat with him was certainly the last thing he was expecting to hear from the unicorn to say the least. "Eh, well, sure, I suppose there's no harm in that." Inquisitor said after a moment, rather taken aback by Pitch's sudden friendliness. Just about an hour prior, Pitch had been threatening to destroy Cinder to intimidate Janet, in addition to throwing all kinds of patronizing insults at Inquisitor; needless to say, Pitch's newfound change in attitude was certainly a very welcome change.

"So, what exactly did you have in mind, Pitch?" Inquisitor asked after another moment, trying not to question the motives behind Pitch's new behavior. A part of Inquisitor wanted to not trust Pitch, and thought Pitch had some kind of ulterior motive behind his friendliness, but Inquisitor tried not to listen to that part of himself and just be glad that Pitch was acting nice for once. Certainly, it was strange and slightly suspicious for Pitch to so rapidly and so radically alter his attitude, but Inquisitor liked to think of himself as a forgiving individual and didn't typically hold grudges. However, Inquisitor didn't keep those thoughts in mind for long, and tried to focus on Pitch, staring expectantly at the black unicorn as he waited for him to say something else.

[Morlodania]

Kiera frowns and crosses her arms. "Wow, thanks for the consideration and support, Trit." She says sarcastically as she pouts and rolls her eyes. "But I agree. How can we trust a machine who's sole purpose is to deceive. That's like trusting a snake not to bite you when you piss it off." Kiera puts her hands on her hips. "How DO we know you won't just double cross us, Siem?"

Siem
Siem paused, its mechanisms ticking softly as it pondered the conundrum it had been presented with.
"Well, I'll admit, I hadn't thought about that. . . Hmm, well I suppose if you really think about it, you can't. But what guarantee do you have that you can trust anyone? At least I was honest about my purpose."
It replied with its small, reedy voice.

"I'm not one to trust easily, Siem... I hardly trust Kiera here and that's only because she hasn't killed me yet." She glances over at Kiera with a teasing smile before looking back at Siem. "I understand what you're saying, but... For all I know, you're just part of the City's grand design for itself, trying to round up those who it believes to be rogue 'slaves' and putting them back into slaver." She gives the machine a doubtful look. "I'm not one to trust clockwork devices... They are marvelous things, but... They are less than trustworthy in a city like this."

[Nuclear Aftermath]

Kiera frowns and crosses her arms. "Wow, thanks for the consideration and support, Trit." She says sarcastically as she pouts and rolls her eyes. "But I agree. How can we trust a machine who's sole purpose is to deceive. That's like trusting a snake not to bite you when you piss it off." Kiera puts her hands on her hips. "How DO we know you won't just double cross us, Siem?"

Siem
Siem paused, its mechanisms ticking softly as it pondered the conundrum it had been presented with.
"Well, I'll admit, I hadn't thought about that. . . Hmm, well I suppose if you really think about it, you can't. But what guarantee do you have that you can trust anyone? At least I was honest about my purpose."
It replied with its small, reedy voice.

"I'm not one to trust easily, Siem... I hardly trust Kiera here and that's only because she hasn't killed me yet." She glances over at Kiera with a teasing smile before looking back at Siem. "I understand what you're saying, but... For all I know, you're just part of the City's grand design for itself, trying to round up those who it believes to be rogue 'slaves' and putting them back into slaver." She gives the machine a doubtful look. "I'm not one to trust clockwork devices... They are marvelous things, but... They are less than trustworthy in a city like this."

Keira nods. "Time is a relevant matter here. Meaning it would just be a matter of time before you turned on us. No offense, but I hate and distrust clockworks as it is. One that is masterful at stabbing people in the back? Even less of a reason to drop my guard. I'm sorry, but I can't trust you. You'd have to earn your place and prove you aren't the type to kill us when we sleep. That's all I have to say."

[The Flutterlands]

Pitch Black

Pitch's smile grew a little. The black stallion couldn't have known how much he missed this emotion. "J-just a little lunch in the mess hall." he said, "Perhaps some soup and sandwiches, with lemonade to drink." Pitch chuckled, turned towards the hallway, and started walking towards the cafe, hoping that Inquisitor would follow. The black unicorn had to admit that he was starting to look forward to a friendship with Inquisitor, despite the hatred he still held against humans.

[Fascist Russian Empire]

Inquisitor

Still rather confused as to what could possibly foster such a big change in Pitch Black, Inquisitor elected to simply try and forget about Pitch's history of pony supremacist rhetoric and sociopathic behavior; if Pitch wanted to repent for his past offenses and be friends, Inquisitor wasn't going to try and stop him. Pitch's new behavior was a very much so welcome change to Inquisitor, who had had more than enough of Pitch Black calling his ideals foolish and constantly spouting out radical anti-human sentiments. Besides, Inquisitor was, of course, a Christian, and forgiving past offenses was a rather significant part of the Christian faith, and Inquisitor strictly adhered to the principles of his faith. Keeping an open mind, and trying to ignore all the bad impressions Pitch had left upon him during the time they had known each other, Inquisitor went ahead and followed behind Pitch.

"Well, that sounds like as good a way as any to spend my time." Inquisitor said as he followed Pitch, keeping a polite smile on his face as he did so; Inquisitor actually smiled most of the time, wanting to set a nice atmosphere for the people around him and wanting to give himself the appearance of a kind and considerate pony. Smiling had become a force of habit for Inquisitor, to the point where it had become a characteristic look of his. Truth be told, he wasn't certain just how much he was looking forward to a possible friendship with Pitch Black, but he of course recognized that it would be a hell of a lot better than them constantly attacking one another and sabotaging one another's plans; he doubted if Pitch was the kind of pony he would enjoy being around, but he certainly knew it was better than the alternative, so Inquisitor figured it was a good thing.