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Pass the Plate (IC)


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October 1st, 2011
8:21 PM
Starlight Room, Tremont Hotel
Freedom City


The Gorgon had been diverted, by the amazing sacrifice and hard work of so many. Earth had not been untouched, though; a metallic rain of nanites, a crazed villain's attack on the West End, and a thousand other disasters still plagued the planet in the wake of the planet-killer's defeat. It could have been so much worse and the history books would record it as a win, but the dead and dispossessed would have a different opinion.

So would many of the wealth and charitable of Freedom City. In the days following the disaster, the idea of a charity dinner had sprung up almost organically among the penthouse and mansion set. Now they were gathered in the Starlight room, high atop the Fremont Hotel. The cost of dishes and drinks had been doubled across the board and tip jars were stuffed with twenty dollar bills; the set-up was a subtle reminder that they were double blessed. Not only had the Earth survived, but Freedom City itself was miraculously intact.

Jessica Parker was sitting apart from the crowd, in a lounge area with a striking view of the city. She was dressed in a full-length silk evening dress, so white it almost seemed to glow against the dark city. Silver fleshed at her throat and wrist, and there were pearls in her ears, but she kept rubbing at once finger. She had spent some time on the dance floor but most of the people there were way too old for her, as in 'of an age to drink legally.' Besides, part of her was still trying to process how she felt about Blake; the threat of the Gorgon had kept her from really coming to any personal resolution over that. She was angry, of course, that he had lied to her for so long about something so important; sad that something that had meant so much to her was now done; and a little confused about how the whole mess was affecting her.

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When he had found out about the charity dinner, Johnny thought it would be a wonderful opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. First, as Lucy had suggested, it would allow him to use his money for something positive. He'd been down enough on the whole corporate culture and their dubious benefit to mankind. Well here was a perfect way for him to use those funds for something that would actually help real people in need. Secondly it allowed him to meet more people in his new home, which was always a good thing.

While the affair was certainly nice enough, there was still a bit of a subdued atmosphere as if people realized what a close encounter they had. Still, the money was flowing almost as fast as the alcohol, which was really the purpose for all of them to be here. He found himself talking with several of the cities high rollers discussing mostly trivialities. A couple of them seemed to want to pick his brain for some inside tips from his father's company, which was something he was not really about to do. Overall, it had turned out into a pretty pleasant, if expensive, evening.

"...yes, I did quit the tour and am finishing my studies in preparation for running both my father's company as well as managing his investments. At least, that's how it's been proposed to me. Can you excuse me, it's been a pleasure talking with you."

Stepping away from one of the city counselors, he walked out into a lobby to get some fresh air and take a look out over the amazing panorama. From up here, it was pretty easy to forget what had happened and the chaos that had occurred below. It was also easy to forget what an amazing place this was. He was tempted to take off his black tux jacket, but that wouldn't do and there would likely be a charity auction or other events later.

Still gazing out the window, he became aware of a woman sitting behind him, "oh, sorry. I'm not interrupting am I? Just wanted to get some air, and the view from here is pretty amazing."

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Agnes, no tonight she was Annice, felt so out of place. Most of these people earned more in a day than she had during all her career.

But it was for charity after the horrendous events, hopefully the money raised here would help people would had really suffered during the strange events of that day.

Because of that she didn't feel quite so bad about eyeing up all the expensive custom made dresses worn by some of the other women, compared to the, elegant and stylist she had to admit, off the rack dress she had on.

But she rather be flying around the city than swapping small talk with people who didn't really know who she was.

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Tonight, tonight Amir got to shine. This was his sort of thing, he hit most of the charity circuit around town, and despite coming off as an affable twit, he was known to give to causes, and so he was always invited. Plus with his recently announcement his appearance would create a little publicity stir, which when used correctly was always a good thing.

Of course he arrived late, this time not having a date on his arm (or two). He walked in like he owned the place, a little cocky and with some swagger. He had opted for the white coated tuxedo, having spent more than a little bit of change on it, but he loved the feel of a fitted suit on himself, and as often as he went to these things it was almost a write off. Once inside the event proper he set to making the small talk immediately. Sure it was often banal and pointless, but he was good at it. Something even his father to admit, Amir had the charm in his family, and willingness to use it.

So he glad-handed, and flirted, and chatted people up. And wielded him comfort in the setting as a bit of a weapon. He knew there were people better at this than him, but he still felt comfortable here. Mingling. Telling jokes with some of the other captains of industry, chatting it up with counselors, and the deputy mayor.

Eventually he had made enough rounds he found himself standing off to the side, drink in hand that he'd nurse for awhile, a scotch and soda. And he moved towards Annice, in some much as that was how it ended up. "Hello there. Hope you don't mind an intrusion, but you look moderately miserable, miss. I am Amir al-Misri, may I have the honor...?" Letting his question

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Lord Steam's antiquated, but still very elegant and functional, steam-powered automobile, Bessie, pulled outside the hotel. The man himself then dutifully exited the car, dressed in top hat and tails of the finest cut and cloth. No expense had been spared on the tailoring.

In fact, the suit itself wasn't even from this dimension. He trusted none other than tailors of his own dimension for his evening wear. The expense be damned.

"Leave her running, Knuckles" he said to the driver "And if those damn wardens come round, just take her for a spin and give them a good beep!"

Twirling his cane, Lord Steam entered the sioree.

"Evening Gents, and Ladies!" he said with a smile.

Spotting Annice, he doffed his top hat. "My my, I would not have believed further augmentation of your beauty possible, my dear, but I do believe your attire has achieved that herculean feat!"

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Jessica blinked, her reverie suddenly broken. She glanced up at the young man standing next to her. She noticed his tanned complexion, strong features, and easygoing smile, and felt the corners of her mouth begin to lift. "It's fine," she said. She stood, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. "Parties aren't really my kind of thing." Which was true enough, but not nearly the whole story. "I'm a lot more comfortable behind a workbench, or a computer, or in a lab." Jessica offered the young man her hand, smiling. "Jessica Parker."

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Almost automatically she looked up and smiled “No I'm fine it's a wonderful party...†slowly realization dawned “Bloody Hell your, your that bloke off the telly. The public superhero/playboy, and you probably know all this already.†in her excitement he North London accent thickened noticeably.

You would have thought by now she would be use to meeting famous people, but no she still got star stuck.

“Hi I'm Annice Stone. Just feeling a little out of place, I'm just a small time singer. Plus all I can drink is this.†she held up a glass of orange juice “I really don't know how you cope without Alcohol.â€

Who'd thought she'd be saved by Lord Steam of all people.

“Amir, may I call you Amir? This is Lord Lucien Lockwood, I helped him out with a issue he was having not that long ago.â€

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Amir grinned, at her reaction, her voice, and all of it. "I get that a lot. Hello Ms. Stone it a pleasure to meet you. I do believe I own your album. If you want we can exchange autographs?" A disarming smile. Phasers set to charming. He raised his glass then, "Well, strictly speaking, I am not coping without alcohol, but I am what is known as a social butterfly. So I think I am managing considerably better than some others I have seen." His rich voice sounding amused, as he surveyed everyone, and then looking back to Annice with a conspiratorially crooked grin.

Taking a sip of his drink, he glanced to Lord Lockwood, immediately liking the fellow, without skipping a beat, he extended a hand to Lord Lockwood. "Hello, I am Amir ibn Jafar ibn Abd al-Aziz al-Misri, or, as the beautiful lady has said, Amir for simplicity sake. It is a pleasure to meet Lord Lockwood, you seem to be enjoying yourself this evening." Far be it from him to not meet someone new. Especially in this setting. He resisted the urge to fidget with his tie. While he liked the feel of a fitted suit, ties always bothered him. "I see you are empty handed Lord Lockwood, fair is fair, let's get you a drink too." Flashing a quick grin, as he waved down one of the wait staff, and, stuffing a bill in the man's vest. "Whatever Lord Lockwood wants, and another scotch and soda for me, no ice." And he knocked back his drink and put the glass on the man's tray.

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The dull roar of a distant jet engine flies over the party, the force of the wind sending a small tremor in the building below. Cups shake, silverware rattles, and at least one car alarm outside goes off. Fortunately, that last one was a car just parked, and was silenced quickly. It only lasted a few seconds, but the sound was around enough to stop some of the conversations going on in the party, at least for the time it took for it to pass.

Outside the building, a white figure descends to the ground, rocket exhaust burning the asphalt below it. The tall shape is followed by a pair of coattails, still floating down from the landing. The rockets kick out an inch from the ground, causing the man to hit the ground with a heavy thud. But he keeps his balance easily, and stands, facing away from the entrance.

Victory, AEGIS' representative for the fund raiser, brings a hand to his face, feeling it for a few seconds, before turning around to the entrance.

Good....the synthetic skin was able to stay on through the flight. Some good stuff the lab's coming out with these days.

Victory takes his strides forward, each step making a metallic thud on the asphalt. As he reaches the entrance, he points to the AEGIS logo embroidered on the breast of his all-white suit. The doormen, of course, know exactly who this is, and why he's here tonight. He gives them each a nod, as he makes his way in, lightening his steps, being careful not to damage the nice floor.

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Johnny flashed a very open and friendly smile to her, "well, pleased to meet you Jessica. Johnny Hladd."

There was a brief pause as the screaming of a jet engine sounded above them.

"Heh, I'm sure the FAA loves it when that happens. Anyway, seeing as this is a fundraiser, I'm guessing you had to have invented something seriously cool? Cold fusion? Anti aging drugs? Duct tape?... well okay, that last one would have been beyond wicked. However, I suppose that cold fusion might be a close second best."

He then offered her his hand, "me, I'm not much of note. I'm just here for my money, which for a fundraiser, is a good enough reason. Not that I've done much to earn it before you guess that I invented paper clips or something. Nope, inherited some, made the rest playing at kids games really. I guess I've been kind of lucky."

Then his voice dropped to whisper, "which is of course probably closer to the truth for most of this crowd, not that they'd own up too it. As long as their heart's in it tonight, I'll play along."

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"That's probably Victory," Jessica said. "He usually flies around. I think he's a bit heavy and bulky for a vehicle, anyway."

Johnny's admittance of ignorance about her made Jessica pause for a moment. It was a different sensation, speaking to someone who didn't recognize her face or name; probably just another sign that she needed to get out of the Lab more often. "I invented a power suit," she said. "And there's nothing wrong with inheriting money, as long as you do something worthwhile with it."

His next comment made he take a step away from Johnny. All of a sudden speaking to him was like smelling curdled milk and all she could think of was to get away. "I don't think you're giving these people very much credit," she said. "They're here, aren't they? They're helping folks."

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Johnny looked a little confused, somehow he had offended her, and honestly he couldn't think of a reason that he would have, "sure, that's why I'm here too, my father left me with more money than I'll ever need... did I say something that bothered you?"

Then he thought about what he had said to her. It couldn't have been the duct tape comment. Perhaps the inheriting money thing?

"If it's about inheriting money, I'm sure people do wonderful things with their sacks of cash, I try too all the time. I just meant that more than a few will also tell you how hard they worked for it or deserved it, nothing more. I've heard more than a few stories of that tonight. Even those with the best of intentions sometimes fell less than secure in their own good fortune and feel the need to justify their wealth... especially those of who had it mostly handed too them. I fall in that camp myself and I thank my lucky stars and try not to be overly pompous about it."

"All I was saying is that I'm happy to play along with the charade if they're also willing to open their wallets in a most genuine manner. Nothing more. If it means that some of the people outside eat more because I nod and smile when Jack Lemmon told me about how hard he had to work for his Oil fortune, then play me for a nodding fool."

Finishing his explanation and hoping that he came close to the mark he nodded, "very sorry to offend you and this is a wonderful event. Wouldn't be here otherwise. If you wish, I'll wander the other way and you can tell the next person about the jerk you just met."

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Eve Alexis Martel, youngest of the Martel children, didn't want to be here for a number of reasons, not the least of which being that crowds made her nervous. It was a hang-up from the three year period of her life when she was mute and could only speak via sign language (which frustratingly few know) or telepathy (which was something she tried to conceal) but with Nicholas working the charity circuit on the western half of the country it fell to Eve to show the Martel flag.

Looking resplendent in her floor-length backless gown of dark green silk taffeta, Eve managed to submerge her feelings of anxiety behind a smile as her wandering brought her near the tall woman in white.

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Jessica took a deep breath. "I think you're just underestimating these people," she said. "You assume that because they're born to plenty they don't work hard. There's a lot of people who work hard to increase what they have, and put their fortunes to good use. A night like tonight shows that perfectly. Now, if you'll excuse me."

She turned to leave, navigating around the individuals who had gravitated towards the lounge space. Maybe she could talk to Victory? But just as she was about to exit, she spotted a familiar face, a bit lower to the ground than she was used to looking. "Eve Martel," she said, stopping the woman in the green dress. "You probably don't remember me. Jessica Parker. We met in Tian, briefly."

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Well that was an unqualified disaster, Johnny thought to himself. You might as well have told her that she was a gold digger and just gotten it over with... or perhaps just throw some wine on her. That would likely have had about as good of an effect.

Turning back to the window, he stared back out at the city. The shame of it was, he didn't think less of anyone. He had been given money, so he'd hardly be someone to talk. He just found it amusing when people tried to justify their wealth and... oh just let it go. You were rude, and deserved it.

For a moment he glanced over at her, watching her greet another socialite. Shaking his head with regret he turned to head back to the bar. A root beer was the strongest thing he could order, but it would do just fine as he sipped it and slipped back into the crowd.

"Pleasure to meet you as well Mr. Dorne... yes, it is a lovely evening..."

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“Wow I didn’t think anyone over here had even heard of me. I don’t think it had even made the Billboard 100.†Agnes looked thoughtful for a bit “Actually I’m in the process of recording a new album. Less pop more soulful. A little like Adele or Joss Stone (no relation). Maybe you could you could come to the wrap party? I’m still looking for my plus one.†She gave him a coy look.

She leant on the railing and watched in wonder as Victory made his entrance, attracting the attention of almost everyone in the room.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be able to do the thing he does, just fly around everywhere whenever you wanted to.†She hoped her voice sound just wistful enough.

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"In fairness, I do a fair bit of globehopping myself. And given my personal business ventures are diverse, it helps to know things and people." He met her gaze with one of his own, and returning her smile as well. "Why Miss Stone, I would be honored to accompany you to such an event. As you can see I can hold my own at parties. And..." He trailed off watching Victory's entrance. Now there was a man who understood an entrance. "Well if you ever want to find out what it's like, I'd be happy to take you up for a spin around town." No, he was not above using his powers to help flirt, and the playful expression on his face an exaggerated eyebrow bob showed that.

Taking his drink off the tray of the returned waiter, he took a sip of it. Truthfully he was glad that Victory was here and making an entrance. It meant some of the paparazzi would focus on him for a time.

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Eve cocked her head to the side as she examined Jessica. The telepath's stay in Tian was abbreviated; she had far too much on her mind to properly participate in the competition, so she left early but not before meeting a few people, such as one Freedom City heroine known as Ironclad. The height is right, Eve thought as the smile she wore became a touch more genuine.

"Mm, no, I remember," she said, looking up at the much taller woman. "Though I would have attributed your height to your," she paused a moment, green eyes appraising the area immediately around her as she dropped her voice to a whisper, "shoes."

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Jessica rubbed her nose, taking a moment to examine Even's winking comment from all angles. Personally she made no bones about being a superhero, but she was aware that others in the cape and cowl community preferred to be more circumspect about it. Not that she had any evidence that the Martel heir was a superhero; she was a publicly known psychic, and had to be some kind of warrior if she had shown up at Guan Yu's tournament, but even put together they didn't mean she was a hero.

Accordingly, Jessica lowered her voice when she answered. "Yes, well. I'm a lot more comfortable in those shoes or a lab coat than these heels." She glanced down for a moment before flashing the heiress a smile. "How are you finding the evening?"


Johnny had struck out resoundingly, but the night was still young and his youth wouldn't let him dwell on his failure for very long. He spotted a woman further down the window from him; she wasn't as tall as Jessica but she was more curvy, dressed in a purple gown that hugged her hips appealingly. Her long black hair was done up in a complicated 'do, and she kept throwing frequent glances at a slim watch around one wrist. She caught Johnny looking at her and arched an eyebrow; she jerked her head towards the dance floor and the eating area, rolled her eyes, and shot the young man a smile.

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“I’m not sure about flying I might not like the heights.â€

Boy could she be any more ditzy? Why didn’t she just go the whole hog and start wearing a bikini and bunny ears?

Still it didn’t hurt allowing people to under estimate and she had to admit the guy was cute and charming and well it had been over a year since she had been in any kind of relationship.

“So have you tried anything other than “just flyingâ€, you know you hear all these rumours…†she gave a sly grin.

Ugh so unsubtle, just shoot me now.

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Amir was not nearly the twit the media had made him seem. He was well aware that he was viewed as a laughing stock, and the news reports and articles seemed more concerned with his fashion sense in his costume than his actual efforts as a hero. But then, this was his first day. He had already dealt with something at the park. Had a press conference this morning. This was a busy day, and he hadn't been able to get in a run, or a flight, to clear his head.

"Well I promise I wont let you fall, if that will help persuade you." Amir had the reputation as a player and a playboy. Of course he never really presented himself as a serious individual. Until today, where he had all but said that he was serious now. Though this was different, this was flirting. It was inherently lighthearted. He made eye contact, he smiled, he laughed, he showed his interest with her "Mmm, there are rumors are there? Well I am a bit new to being a hero, so I have never done that, as for others I cannot speak for them." His smile took an amused turn. "I do appreciate the coy forwardness, Annice, I truly do. But, were you aware you get a little crinkle around your eyes when you are being disingenuous?"

"I like to flirt, especially with a beautiful woman. It is fun. And I believe you are interested in me so..." Letting the sentence dangle there for a moment in the buzz of the party as he took her hand and lifted it, so he could kiss her knuckles. "If you would like to spend some time in each others company away from this setting, I would be more than thrilled to do so. As I enjoy the company of a beautiful woman as well. And the offer to take you up for a flight shall stand." Releasing her hand as he looked at her. His interest still apparent, but he was making clear he knew she was misrepresenting something, and from the sly smile on his face, he seemed to like the game.

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As Victory is always one who gets a lot of attention with every entrance he makes, nearly the moment he steps in to the room, he finds himself mobbed by the typical types. Reporters who got in on a press pass, entrepreneurs who would love nothing more than to get a big fat contract with AEGIS, and all the various flotsam and jetsam of high society. Of course, they can't be all bad, since they're here for a worthy cause. Victory prepares for the swarm, stepping forward at a brisk, but deliberate pace as they begin their flood.

"Evening, evening, everyone. I'm sure you all have all sorts of questions for me, and there will be time to get to most of you tonight, but I've got a few things to take care of first!"

Victory doesn't pause his stride, wading right through the throng, over to one of the collection bins. As he approaches,a very small slit in his arm opens,shooting out a stripe of paper from under his sleeve. Without turning to the cameras again, he briefly holds up the paper, where they can get a good shot.

"I'm here, first and foremost,to drop this off."

It was, of course, a check. A mighty large one, at that, in AEGIS' name. Victory, his back still turned to the crowd, hears the cameras go off, then finally lowers the check into the collection, and steps away from it, turning to the crowd once more. His face showed his big, public smile once again.

"Like I said, I'll be available to speak to later, but it's been quite a flight, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go refuel!"

The crowd gave some polite chuckles, as Victory backed away a few steps, before turning away. The moment he faced away and started walking to find his seat, his expression dropped. He let out a heavy sigh, and gave a brief roll of his eyes.

Ugh...They're worse than sewer mutants, I swear....

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Lord Lucien Lockwood posed for the camera's a while, neither particularly relishing or particularly disliking the experience. To him, fame was just a backdrop to life - he neither desired it nor avoided it. It simply was.

A man who wore top hat and tails, a silver walking cane, and looked liked he had stepped out of a music hall hundred years ago mad a damn fine picture for the media, of course. Whats more, he dripped confidence. Any heckle was immediately countered.

"What a pompous a - hole" mumbled one cameraman.

"Its called style, my dear fellow. You should try it some day, it won't bite!" he retorted with a smile and the kind of impenetrable diamond - hard self belief of an aristocrat.

The duties done, the crowd largely won over, and some spiel about donations and restoration work done, he headed back to the meal. He had actually agreed to help with some of the reconstruction work with his own resources and engineering background - Steam manor had some limited ability to forge and smelt. Of course, that might mean a few streets, railways, and bridges that had a rather Earth-Victoriana feel to them popping up in Freedom City.

He was looking forward to the steam - powered traffic lights he had designed making a showing, he chuckled to himself. Ig he could just get the city planners to agree...

Now, off to fine some outrageously expensive wine and a floozy on his arm, he decided!

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After the disappointment of the last conversation, Johnny was looking to chat with someone more amenable. He had a polite, if mostly formal conversation with Mr. Dorne, the venture capitalist who had just purchased on of the cities papers. He was nice enough, but seemed to be directing some of the press in a very micro managing kind of way. He had excused himself letting the man get on to his work, when he noticed the girl in the purple dress.

"Might as well go make a fool of myself again," he said quietly to himself as he wandered over flashing her a smile as he did.

Even as he got there, the thought came to him. Why didn't I bring an and one?

He was certain that the night would have been more interesting if Lucy had come along. She had a way of making that happen. Even if the evening was a pretty typical high roller affair, the cause was good and he'd stick it out until the end. Besides, he liked to make his donations when he noticed how much whatever charity needed towards the end of the evening. Usually done by giving the check, a cashiers with no name, to a bus boy or waiter. He didn't want the flash and fame, and didn't like throwing money around.

"Hello," he said to the woman as he came up to her, "I saw you standing here and I might be mistaken, but you were looking for a dance were you not?"

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The woman seemed surprised by Johnny's offer, but she recovered quickly, offering him her hand and a smile. "Why not?" she said, leading him out to the dance floor. Almost the moment they stopped onto the polished floor, the band shifted to a slower piece and Johnny's impromptu partner began to lead him through the steps of a waltz. "My name is Isabelle," she said, an Italian accent leaking through her words. "I must say, I am surprised to see someone like you here. I expected everyone to be dumpy society dames and old men in older suits. But now I think this night might really be interesting."


As Lord Steam stepped up to the bar, he had to shoulder his way past several people deep into their cups. He ended up standing next to a slim bald man near his own age, a badly-tailored grey suit hanging off his frame. He was hunched over a shot glass and a bottle of bourbon. As the Victorian adventurer waited for his own drink, he could hear the man's not-so-sotto voce complaining. "Idiots," he said to no one in particular. "Goddamn morons squatting at the top of Babel and thinking they're gods." He knocked back a slug of liquor and glanced at Lord Steam. "What are you looking at," he demanded.


Victory moved through the party like an iceberg through a shipyard; gingerly, and doing his best not to crush the smaller forms all around him. As he turned from one conversation to another, his gaze rested on one of the waiters for a second. The man flickered as the cyborg's sensors probed him, the server's entire body being obscured by static for just a heartbeat.

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