I popped out for some milk and a few bits then walked slowly back to Mayfair. The shops are still open, with the stiffest of upper lips, but Victoria smells like burning prims. What a mess.
Left a jar of anchovy butter on Kiras swing for her. Bardhaven looked particularly quiet, and only a chambermaid could be seen stowicly going about her duties.
Sat on the ches longue in the console room reading a book for a few hours, then got back to work on the cabinet.
Began the bulk processing, but I'll look at the footage tomorrow. There's a lot, and most of it will be unusable. I need a clear head, a bit more sleep, and a few spare hours.
Showing posts with label war. Show all posts
Showing posts with label war. Show all posts
Monday, May 07, 2007
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Neaualtenburg Attacks
I have, what is known in military circles, as a banging headache this morning.
There were shenanigans last night. Many shenanigans.
I was with Virrginia when the balloon went up. We were moving barrels of mercury into the ETC (for use in her fluid links), and before I knew it I grabbed a camera and found myself in the back seat of an Ornithopter, clutching a map, flying low level over Primveness looking for enemy troops. They were coming in from the East. We did a couple of fly-bys, Virriginia using the trees for cover, and there were plenty of them down there with heavy artillery in tow. There was little we could do, they had the benefit of cover, so we headed for the Guvnahs Manson in Victoria City and V set her down on the roof from where we took up small arms positions. Her with her derringer (and at one particularly hairy point the Vickers out of the cockpit) and myself with my 'N & G' Kinematograph.
Caledon forces were prepared, however, and a running gun battle ensued through the streets below for an hour or more. Brave souls all. The heavy shelling certainly took it's toll on the buildings and I managed to grab a few cans of footage between the smoke as Neaualtenburg troops took the Guvnahs Mansion beneath us. Interestingly, from our vantage point, I could also see Mr Zealot silhouetted by the sun, watching proceedings from the roof of Lady Ambers Boutique.
It was during this time we heard reports of the airship, SMS Brynhilde, moving in and the air cavalry suddenly had something tangible to act upon. With some already damaged, only half the squadron mustered against the vast air dreadnought, but with a determination rarely seen. She is a great armoured beast and no mistake. The open top Ornies, however, are far more manouverable than her large scale gunnery and she was reliant on rifle fire from the decks to bring us down.
Many won't simply know of the battle that ensued, one that probably saved Victoria City from total annihilation. I think it is the likes of the Caledon air forces that are the unsung heroes of this tragic day. If the Brynhilde had been allowed to bring her full payload to bear on the capital the tragedy would have been immeasurable and a future political solution unobtainable. True heroes all.
It was here the Orni took a hit. I remember Virrginia shouting jump, trying to protect the camera, the jerk of the chute canopy opening, but that's all.
Virriginia is well, I spoke to her this morning. I suppose she's used to this kind of thing. I have a hell of a headache and a vivid black bruise covering most of my right side of my neck and face. Victoria city is still burning. I need to sleep this off if at all possible. I will stay in the ETC today. Keep myself to myself.
I look forward to developing some of this footage when time and headache finally allows, and hope it can show how the real people of Caledon made a difference last night. Such a tragedy it has come this.
There were shenanigans last night. Many shenanigans.
I was with Virrginia when the balloon went up. We were moving barrels of mercury into the ETC (for use in her fluid links), and before I knew it I grabbed a camera and found myself in the back seat of an Ornithopter, clutching a map, flying low level over Primveness looking for enemy troops. They were coming in from the East. We did a couple of fly-bys, Virriginia using the trees for cover, and there were plenty of them down there with heavy artillery in tow. There was little we could do, they had the benefit of cover, so we headed for the Guvnahs Manson in Victoria City and V set her down on the roof from where we took up small arms positions. Her with her derringer (and at one particularly hairy point the Vickers out of the cockpit) and myself with my 'N & G' Kinematograph.
Caledon forces were prepared, however, and a running gun battle ensued through the streets below for an hour or more. Brave souls all. The heavy shelling certainly took it's toll on the buildings and I managed to grab a few cans of footage between the smoke as Neaualtenburg troops took the Guvnahs Mansion beneath us. Interestingly, from our vantage point, I could also see Mr Zealot silhouetted by the sun, watching proceedings from the roof of Lady Ambers Boutique.
It was during this time we heard reports of the airship, SMS Brynhilde, moving in and the air cavalry suddenly had something tangible to act upon. With some already damaged, only half the squadron mustered against the vast air dreadnought, but with a determination rarely seen. She is a great armoured beast and no mistake. The open top Ornies, however, are far more manouverable than her large scale gunnery and she was reliant on rifle fire from the decks to bring us down.
Many won't simply know of the battle that ensued, one that probably saved Victoria City from total annihilation. I think it is the likes of the Caledon air forces that are the unsung heroes of this tragic day. If the Brynhilde had been allowed to bring her full payload to bear on the capital the tragedy would have been immeasurable and a future political solution unobtainable. True heroes all.
It was here the Orni took a hit. I remember Virrginia shouting jump, trying to protect the camera, the jerk of the chute canopy opening, but that's all.
Virriginia is well, I spoke to her this morning. I suppose she's used to this kind of thing. I have a hell of a headache and a vivid black bruise covering most of my right side of my neck and face. Victoria city is still burning. I need to sleep this off if at all possible. I will stay in the ETC today. Keep myself to myself.
I look forward to developing some of this footage when time and headache finally allows, and hope it can show how the real people of Caledon made a difference last night. Such a tragedy it has come this.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Thursday, May 03, 2007
The Doctor is In
Work is going well on the ETC, I had checked on the chaps and chapesses around the Guvnahs mansion (leaving a cunningly transformed Terry with a close eye on group of rather 'enthusiastic' weasels), and I decided to take a break onto a small personal project.
I was ensconced in the Mayfair Studio until the wee small hours, changing my Panoptikon to a Eidoloscope. This is a simple but delicate task, adding a basic intermittent mechanism to keep the two-inch film moved continuously during showing and improve the reliability of frame rate.
Being a glass house (for the excellent coastal light it provides), the studio affords a splendid outlook. Eventually, my attention was unavoidably drawn to the road outside where Miss Kelley had been walking backward and forwards for sometime, seemingly reciting dialogue and practising a cough. Having my hands full I allowed her to continue a while, I have no desire to become embroiled in amateur dramatics, and eventually she approached the door.
It's always nice to see her. She is a ray of sunshine. But this evening she came with grave news.
For sometime now Zealot has referred to me as Doctor Sputnik. I have no idea why. I do hold several doctorates, and a professorship or two, but they are from the Academy on Gallifrey and if Zealot knew about them I'd be worried indeed. Not that Zealot doesn't worry me I hasten to add.
Young Miss Kelly had taken this title to be literal, and was in search of a medical practitioner. It appears 'our mutual friend' is not fairing well by her treatment under capture.
I wasn't the sharpest tool in the old woodshed when at The Academy, not by the standards of my peers, but a distinction in Micro Cellular Biology I did mange to scrape and I can slap on a trauma bandage with the best of them. When we first arrived here I resolved to keep myself and Terry healthy with a regular dose of panacea to keep out the diseases of the Victorian age. Nothing is infallible, I have heard of some nasty viral stuff called 'grey goo' on the mainland that I have yet to examine, but it's a start. Typhoid, tuberculosis, smallpox, cholera, the sniffles, hayfever, even syphilis (god forbid) are all simple stuff to remedy with the power of a time travellers hindsight.
We nipped into the Cabinet and I added some base vitamins, a general restorative of future extraction, some peppermint essence and a slow release food supplement.
Within a few minutes she was on her way over the fences, back across Mayfair to Bardhaven. In the name of the First President I prey nothing bad befalls that girl. She is taking a terrible risk and we are so very powerless to interfere.
I tried to get some sleep but couldn't meditate. Even the Zero Room seemed full of psychic static. Next time I see her, I really must give her a transmat bracelet just in case.
I was ensconced in the Mayfair Studio until the wee small hours, changing my Panoptikon to a Eidoloscope. This is a simple but delicate task, adding a basic intermittent mechanism to keep the two-inch film moved continuously during showing and improve the reliability of frame rate.
Being a glass house (for the excellent coastal light it provides), the studio affords a splendid outlook. Eventually, my attention was unavoidably drawn to the road outside where Miss Kelley had been walking backward and forwards for sometime, seemingly reciting dialogue and practising a cough. Having my hands full I allowed her to continue a while, I have no desire to become embroiled in amateur dramatics, and eventually she approached the door.
It's always nice to see her. She is a ray of sunshine. But this evening she came with grave news.
For sometime now Zealot has referred to me as Doctor Sputnik. I have no idea why. I do hold several doctorates, and a professorship or two, but they are from the Academy on Gallifrey and if Zealot knew about them I'd be worried indeed. Not that Zealot doesn't worry me I hasten to add.
Young Miss Kelly had taken this title to be literal, and was in search of a medical practitioner. It appears 'our mutual friend' is not fairing well by her treatment under capture.
I wasn't the sharpest tool in the old woodshed when at The Academy, not by the standards of my peers, but a distinction in Micro Cellular Biology I did mange to scrape and I can slap on a trauma bandage with the best of them. When we first arrived here I resolved to keep myself and Terry healthy with a regular dose of panacea to keep out the diseases of the Victorian age. Nothing is infallible, I have heard of some nasty viral stuff called 'grey goo' on the mainland that I have yet to examine, but it's a start. Typhoid, tuberculosis, smallpox, cholera, the sniffles, hayfever, even syphilis (god forbid) are all simple stuff to remedy with the power of a time travellers hindsight.
We nipped into the Cabinet and I added some base vitamins, a general restorative of future extraction, some peppermint essence and a slow release food supplement.
Within a few minutes she was on her way over the fences, back across Mayfair to Bardhaven. In the name of the First President I prey nothing bad befalls that girl. She is taking a terrible risk and we are so very powerless to interfere.
I tried to get some sleep but couldn't meditate. Even the Zero Room seemed full of psychic static. Next time I see her, I really must give her a transmat bracelet just in case.
Propaganda
It doesn't look like Neualtenburgh is going to take this lying down...
...and right they are too. Citizens, find your nearest recruiting station and sign up. This is far from over.
...and right they are too. Citizens, find your nearest recruiting station and sign up. This is far from over.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Pressed into Service
The Guvnah has had a death threat. Incredible.
I've not really mentioned this in these pages before, or even in public, but I am sometimes cursed with a mild affliction. Tinyhood.
It seems that my regenerative DNA is particularly prone to the magical influences of Tanglewood, the Caledon woodland territory, and upon entry a 'startling metamorphosis occurs'. Hence me not getting down to HQ much. Truly, this a strange and magical place.
Terry, in between initial fits of laughter, assures me this more common than I would have previously though. It seems others are prone to the same involuntary shape-shifting whimsy. Ironic, but I do seem to have maintained my Time Lord wits about me, and the disproportionate strength indicative of my species. This, so far, has stopped most people taking the Michael.
Luckily this process is reversed once I come under the psychic field of the ETC, leaving only a hankering for the great outdoors and a slight smell of acorns on my breath. So far I have kept this from Drillon who would have a field day on the matter.
/sighs
And so it is, in my unwilling role as 'Colonel', I have been called to action. I have for a while been forming a unit of likely diminutive souls, and it's good for the fae and the rodents to have something to keep them out of trouble. The Shang has now pressed us into service.
I am honoured to say, the 'Tanglewood Gun Bunnys' will now form a part of the Guvnahs personal guard. Assorted heavily armed hedgerow creatures are now stationed around the mansion and with his-knibs at all times.
Heaven help us all.
I've not really mentioned this in these pages before, or even in public, but I am sometimes cursed with a mild affliction. Tinyhood.
It seems that my regenerative DNA is particularly prone to the magical influences of Tanglewood, the Caledon woodland territory, and upon entry a 'startling metamorphosis occurs'. Hence me not getting down to HQ much. Truly, this a strange and magical place.
Terry, in between initial fits of laughter, assures me this more common than I would have previously though. It seems others are prone to the same involuntary shape-shifting whimsy. Ironic, but I do seem to have maintained my Time Lord wits about me, and the disproportionate strength indicative of my species. This, so far, has stopped most people taking the Michael.
Luckily this process is reversed once I come under the psychic field of the ETC, leaving only a hankering for the great outdoors and a slight smell of acorns on my breath. So far I have kept this from Drillon who would have a field day on the matter.
/sighs
And so it is, in my unwilling role as 'Colonel', I have been called to action. I have for a while been forming a unit of likely diminutive souls, and it's good for the fae and the rodents to have something to keep them out of trouble. The Shang has now pressed us into service.
I am honoured to say, the 'Tanglewood Gun Bunnys' will now form a part of the Guvnahs personal guard. Assorted heavily armed hedgerow creatures are now stationed around the mansion and with his-knibs at all times.
Heaven help us all.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Reconciliation Day
I don't like to talk about it, but I happen to be a Colonel in the Caledon Militia. Yes, I know, I know. A dubious position indeed for a non-native pacifist, and I'm not really sure how it happened. The Guvnah knows best I'm sure.
Truth be told, I rarely have to do anything except show up to the odd thing in uniform, and Terry normally keeps me on track with all that. Hotspur and the keener Captains have an eye on the standing army, everything seems safe in there hands, so most of us don't have to get that involved and (I think there are 8 of us in total) just have to keep our noses clean and act like community mascots when rolled out in front of the public.
Anyway, I'm best out of the way and it's all been a bit busy down at Militia HQ of late over some doings or other with Neualtenburg. I must confess, I try to avoid HQ if I can as it's in Tangelwood (which raises the whole ongoing rodent issue).
All that said, you could have knocked me down with a white feather this morning when I answered the cabinet door to a urchin with an urgent message from our good Captain Paris.
"All Colonels in the Caledon Militia. That means you Sir. You are kindly requested to attend the Reconciliation Ball with Neualtenburgf, Saturday 5SL, Coughton Court, Carntaigh. Full Dress Uniform is a must for this occasion. Things are afoot. There will be more information arriving shortly. Weaponry is strictly forbidden at the Ball, but your presence is required."
All friends now apparently. Or that's the plan. Dashed inconvenient with a 'Miranda Society' bash at 2 on the same day, but orders are orders. Better not get those uniforms mixed up mind you.
I digress. For a while there it looked like there was to be a fratch with Neualtenburg. Yes, I know, Neualtenburgers are a charming and peacefully self-governed and democratic people with a capital nothing short of a snow-endowed, non-profit cooperative. A republic of artisans which Terry assures me has some rather splendid retail opportunities...
...which is all true, but my first thought was "Hell-fire, this is going to take more flannel than a public bath house". A diplomatic solution may be just the ticket, but isn't going to please everyone.
There is a certain sub-order in our fragile little world just itching to turn it into Counterstrike.
While I've been quietly dodging my civic duties, bimbling around sorting out The Etheric Travel Cabinet for the new changes, half of Caledon has been screaming "Vorsprung Durch Dampf".
A hardcore few happy souls have been fervently making artillery, getting generally overexcited and frothing on about taking an army of Tanglewood Tinys armed with Ordinal Beehive Launchers 'over-the-top' (well, all right, that might have been me but I was asked to sound keen and knew they'd try and talk me out of it). Not that I'm not grateful for the "Knitting for the War Effort" (many thanks for the socks ladies), heavens no, or the nice new uniform for that matter (hats off to my man at Cut & Pearsed in Victoria City for a rather nice cut off a bolt of new cloth).
I do hope these good people will take this Reconciliation Ball in the spirit it is intended and remember this is Caledon. If the Guvnah says make peace we do just that. If the Guvnah says put on the red jacket and get ya backside to this soiree, we do just that. This is Caledon. There is no problem that cannot be solved, no battle that cannot be won, by the application of ones own body weight in cake.
And so. Best behaviour and try not to mention the war this weekend. Stand there quietly. If anyone asks any direct questions just use the usual long streams of Gallifreyan non-sequentials at them 'till they see me for mascot status and leave me alone.
Might have a dance with the lady in charge over there though (Kaiserin Kendra Bancroft) as she is a bit of a cutie and previous experience tells me it's best to do these things early before Hotspur or Pearse have a few drinks and get her tangled up in some embarrassing diplomatic 'sandwich' incident. Smashing. All friends now. What could possibly go wrong ;-)
We do seem to have a lot of artillery lying around mind you. Almost as if it was planned this way. You know there's enough kicking around HQ now, and enough interested parties, to do something quite spectacular ;-)
Truth be told, I rarely have to do anything except show up to the odd thing in uniform, and Terry normally keeps me on track with all that. Hotspur and the keener Captains have an eye on the standing army, everything seems safe in there hands, so most of us don't have to get that involved and (I think there are 8 of us in total) just have to keep our noses clean and act like community mascots when rolled out in front of the public.
Anyway, I'm best out of the way and it's all been a bit busy down at Militia HQ of late over some doings or other with Neualtenburg. I must confess, I try to avoid HQ if I can as it's in Tangelwood (which raises the whole ongoing rodent issue).All that said, you could have knocked me down with a white feather this morning when I answered the cabinet door to a urchin with an urgent message from our good Captain Paris.
"All Colonels in the Caledon Militia. That means you Sir. You are kindly requested to attend the Reconciliation Ball with Neualtenburgf, Saturday 5SL, Coughton Court, Carntaigh. Full Dress Uniform is a must for this occasion. Things are afoot. There will be more information arriving shortly. Weaponry is strictly forbidden at the Ball, but your presence is required."
All friends now apparently. Or that's the plan. Dashed inconvenient with a 'Miranda Society' bash at 2 on the same day, but orders are orders. Better not get those uniforms mixed up mind you.
I digress. For a while there it looked like there was to be a fratch with Neualtenburg. Yes, I know, Neualtenburgers are a charming and peacefully self-governed and democratic people with a capital nothing short of a snow-endowed, non-profit cooperative. A republic of artisans which Terry assures me has some rather splendid retail opportunities...
...which is all true, but my first thought was "Hell-fire, this is going to take more flannel than a public bath house". A diplomatic solution may be just the ticket, but isn't going to please everyone.
There is a certain sub-order in our fragile little world just itching to turn it into Counterstrike.
While I've been quietly dodging my civic duties, bimbling around sorting out The Etheric Travel Cabinet for the new changes, half of Caledon has been screaming "Vorsprung Durch Dampf".
A hardcore few happy souls have been fervently making artillery, getting generally overexcited and frothing on about taking an army of Tanglewood Tinys armed with Ordinal Beehive Launchers 'over-the-top' (well, all right, that might have been me but I was asked to sound keen and knew they'd try and talk me out of it). Not that I'm not grateful for the "Knitting for the War Effort" (many thanks for the socks ladies), heavens no, or the nice new uniform for that matter (hats off to my man at Cut & Pearsed in Victoria City for a rather nice cut off a bolt of new cloth).
I do hope these good people will take this Reconciliation Ball in the spirit it is intended and remember this is Caledon. If the Guvnah says make peace we do just that. If the Guvnah says put on the red jacket and get ya backside to this soiree, we do just that. This is Caledon. There is no problem that cannot be solved, no battle that cannot be won, by the application of ones own body weight in cake.
And so. Best behaviour and try not to mention the war this weekend. Stand there quietly. If anyone asks any direct questions just use the usual long streams of Gallifreyan non-sequentials at them 'till they see me for mascot status and leave me alone.
Might have a dance with the lady in charge over there though (Kaiserin Kendra Bancroft) as she is a bit of a cutie and previous experience tells me it's best to do these things early before Hotspur or Pearse have a few drinks and get her tangled up in some embarrassing diplomatic 'sandwich' incident. Smashing. All friends now. What could possibly go wrong ;-)
We do seem to have a lot of artillery lying around mind you. Almost as if it was planned this way. You know there's enough kicking around HQ now, and enough interested parties, to do something quite spectacular ;-)
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