Francis James Darling. One of the most talented physicists in England, and an esteemed Professor in one of the most prestigious university in London. With credentials such as those, he could get away with slightly more than was normally acceptable of a man. Not one pressured him into marrying one of the various women that he courted. Not one pressured him into donating any of his hard earned wealth to the various charitable organisations that plagued the city. Not one called any of his actions into question, even if what he did was shady and none to becoming of a person.

Francis knew that and Francis used that to his advantage. He knew that he and he alone could be of assistance to England in scientific discovery. He knew that others valued his opinions, so much so that they let an unorthodox number of incidents and discrepancies slide. This 'special treatment' that he so often received, is exactly what paid for his large house on the outskirts of the city, not to mention the workers that he employed to cook and to clean for him.

One such worker was a very pretty young woman by the name of Elizabeth. She was naught but a scullery maid, working from dusk 'til dawn cleaning the large manor house. She often made mistakes, such as scraping the oak flooring with the coal scuttle, or over polishing some of his more finer pieces of silver. Though he, like many did to him, let them slide. She, unlike him however, did not have marvelous wit and genius to offer. She only had her looks. Ivory skin, long chestnut hair which she would often scoop into a bun (falling out of place by the end of the day) and large hazel eyes. All of that topped with an amazing figure. The girl was easily the prettiest thing he had laid eyes on for quite some time. When at home, Francis liked to keep Elizabeth working close to him. He enjoyed having a nice view to look at, to contemplate, to fantasize over, as he worked.

It was a brisk March morning when Francis sat down at the breakfast table, a bowl of porridge and a round of toast in front of him, next to his cup of plain black coffee and a copy of the daily telegraph. Francis had to be at the university in an hour. The Dean had mentioned something about a German fellow, though Francis didn't often listen to that lumbering oaf, so he had no such idea of what he was needed for. He did, however, know that for someone to be introduced to him, that they must be of considerable talent.

Francis ate his breakfast with his usual distaste before having a quick flick through the newspaper. He wrinkled his nose up at several stories which displeased him, all before folding it up and tossing it half way across the table in disgust. Scraping his chair back loudly to alert a maid that he was done, he picked up his jacket off the back of the chair and slipped it on. Pausing for a moment to tie the buttons as a buxom woman with steel grey hair came into the dining room.

"Enjoy your breakfast, sir?" she asked, her voice loud and harsh in the still morning silence.

"It was palatable," Francis said stiffly, before bowing his head and striding purposefully out of the room.

Said German fellow, had been invited to London by the University. Marcus Heinrich von Liechtenhoven, named after his grandfather, earned the title of respective 'Zahnrad Meister', freely translated Gear Master, the highest rank in engineering. Quite impressive for someone as young as Marcus. For he had just turned 28 a month ago.

He had received a letter, quite out of the blue. Where he was asked if he wanted to come over to discuss some business. The University had somehow gotten air of the young Master and wanted his service for one reason or the other. Marcus didn't fully understand the letter, for it was written in English and he never got the chance to learn that language. But after a few hours spent in the library with various dictionaries, he managed to grasp the concept.

Along with the letter came some change for a coach, two train tickets, instructions for a hotel and a boarding pass for the ferry to from Holland to England. The German was to be expected as soon as possible!
Instantly he had grabbed his most important things together, stuffed them in a trunk, got another bag with him with a few of the library's English dictionaries and other books of importance. Said is family farewell and hopped on the train.
This had occurred a few days ago. And now he stood at the gates of the university.

The first thing the German had noticed were the strange glances he got from the locals. They all looked at him as if he was a threat to them. He could be, for he was taller than most men around and he had stolen the glances and attention of a fair amount of ladies. But he was not interested in such manners, he came here to discuss work and nothing else.
He was quite the sight, tall, seemed muscular underneath his clothes, pale blonde hair that was combed back and held in place with wax. His pale blue eyes looked quite lost as he glanced about, he had made himself a note with a chart of where to be, but... The University was big.

After trying to figure out where to be himself, he decided to ask for directions, for his own scribbles didn't get him any where. But before he could ask anyone, the Dean rushed over to him.
"Oh, there you are! It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir Marcus. I'm sorry, I would've waited for you at the gate if I weren't this late!. Please, follow. "
Confused as he was, Marcus simply nodded. "It is quite alright." he managed to speak with the most horrible accent ever. "I do however have to...ehm, ask you to speak slowly and clear." Marcus often had to pause to think of the right words. But he was getting there. "I do not understand your language that well."
Of course this was blown into the wind as the Dean began to walk and tug Marcus along. The man began to chatter away, leaving Marcus in the blue for most things that were told and asked.

Francis left his home and walked to the carriage that was waiting for him by the gates. He cast a withering eye at the two horses, the street grime and muck were splattered half way up their pale legs, giving the awful impression that Francis' home life was unkempt in comparison to his neat appearance.

"G'mornin' Sir!" the carriage driver said loudly in his harsh cockney accent. Francis found it grating and preferred that the man remain as quiet as possible during the twenty minute ride to the University.

"Good morning," Francis said, enunciating clearly. He sat down and began to look through a few of his papers as the carriage moved forward. He didn't really need to read any of these, but he knew if he appeared busy the man would not bother him.

The carriage rocked on the cobblestones and the clacking noise of the horse hooves on the paving was beginning to annoy Francis. This was not the most luxurious mode of transport, but it was by far the most effective. Quietly, he stowed the papers in a small briefcase that was on the seat of the carriage next to him, and he looked out onto the street around him. He was going through one of the poorer areas, where the open sewers made his emerald eyes water. Reaching into his coat pocket he brought out his snuff box, taking a little on the tips of his fingers and dabbing it around his pointed nose. The sooner they were out of this area, the better, in Francis' opinion.

He let his mind wander for the remainder of the journey, stirring when the brash voice of the driver bellowed "We're 'ere, Sir!"

He collected his briefcase and swung his long legs out of the carriage, stepping out onto the cobbles bellow. He nodded his head in thanks as he straightened his jacket and strode off into the university grounds. There were not many people milling about, which made Francis believe that he was later than the Dean would have liked. That couldn't be helped though. He walked in through the large oak doors at the front of the large and imposing building and set off down the thin corridors. The Dean's office was about a five minute brisk walk into the left wing of the building.

Francis arrived to see that the door was closed. He allowed himself a moment to tidy himself up a final time before knocking loudly three times on the door, taking a slight step back afterwards.

The German had been brought in, offered a seat and some tea. Of course, no one really asked if he wanted any, but just got a cup placed in front of him.
The chatter of the Dean seemed like an endless train of words as the man seemed to bounce about. Marcus simply sat there with a rather straight face, trying to avoid getting a headache from the man. He had managed to answer the most simple questions that the other asked him. Again, he had to repeat himself that he did not fully understand the British language.

At the knock, Marcus let out a sigh of relief. Finally, salvation! He put the delicate cup down carefully and rolled up the sleeves of his white button shirt.
The Dean stopped talking before he moved to the door opening it for Francis. "Ah, there you are!" the man claimed happily before he allowed the other in. "Francis, this is Gear Master Marcus Heinrich von Liechtenhoven. He is to be your assistant and your engineer. " the Dean briefly explained.

Marcus in the meanwhile had stood up and extended his rough hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you." he said in his best English, of course, his German accent being as subtle as a brick through a glass window.

Francis stepped in, placing the briefcase on the table next to the door. He didn't really take in what the Dean was saying but cast his eyes to the German fellow, who he managed to hear, is called Marcus. Francis extended his hand and smiled at Marcus.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too," Francis said politely. He noticed the tea cup sitting on the desk and he raised an eyebrow to the Dean. "Do I not get offered?"

The Dean chortled robustly before setting about to get a cup made for Francis. Francis took a seat next to the one that Marcus had just stood up from. Francis sat back casually and crossed his legs, putting his arm over the back of the chair he looked to Marcus. He surveyed him for a moment.

"You don't look old enough to be a gear master," Francis said, more to himself than to Marcus. "How old are you? Thirty?"

When the man took his hand and shook it Marcus felt a bit more on ease. HE was glad that he had studied the customs and etiquettes on his way to England. This way he wouldn't insult anyone, or at least he hoped so.
Marcus studied the man who sat next to him, the other seemed so relaxed and casual, that Marcus began to doubt his own posture. He had been sitting upright and kept both feet on the floor.
But now that he had someone who was so at ease next to him, his spine slowly bent and he actually dared to rest against the back of the seat.

"Not quite. I just turned 28." he stated as he took his cup and took a careful sip of it. "I earned the title last year, when I built a mechanic leg for the Baron's son." he explained. "It was a project I could not refuse." The tall man even seemed to blush when he explained this.
"I did not quite understand the letter that I had received, for the language was and still is foreign to me." he stated, still unsure of the business the men wanted to discuss.

Francis nodded his head, he was impressed. For someone so young it was quite an achievement. Francis remembered when he was that age, he was not as studious or as overachieving as he would have liked. It did somewhat warm his heart that someone so young was willing to put in so much effort into being the best in the field of what they did. He smiled.

"I wouldn't worry," Francis said, speaking somewhat slower than normal, to make sure Marcus caught every word without much too much struggle. "I'm not entirely sure what you were asked here for either. Though, I am led to believe that you and I will be working together. I don't think I've been introduced to you yet have I? I'm Francis Darling, physics professor here at the university. I'm sure that when the Dean comes back, from wherever it is getting this tea from, he will explain it in a somewhat coherent manner."

As Francis said that the door to the office opened again and the Dean stepped inside. In his hands were a plate of biscuits and a cup of tea. He placed the tea in front of Francis and the biscuits on his desk between all three of them.

"There you are," he said cheerily. Smiling at both Francis and Marcus. "Shall we begin?"

Marcus had smiled happily when the other talked slower for him. He was listening closely to everything, not just to understand but also to be able to recall on how to pronounce things better and with less of an accent. But that would take some more time than just this talk.

"Hmn. I sure hope so. It would be a pity if I came all the way from home to here, just to hear something completely...eh..."there, he lost the word. Already frustrated he tried to get to it, but he gave up and looked at Francis with a quizzical look on his face. "Forgot the word, I'm sorry."

But right then the other man wanted to discuss business. Marcus fished a small note book from his jacket pocket before he also got a pen. "Yes, please." he nodded as he was ready to jot down everything of importance.

Francis smiled at the eagerness of Marcus to get down to business. Francis, on the other hand, was not all that interested in taking notes. If the assignment caught his fancy he would remember the details. If not, he would kindly refuse. This was the case with all projects that Francis now took on. He did have better things to do with his time than mill around doing nothing of great importance.

"Surely by now you two know why you're here?" The Dean began. Francis looked at Marcus out of the corner of his eye before slowly raising a hand to grab the Dean's attention.

"Actually, no. I don't know why myself or Marcus are here. Perhaps you could fill us both in, slowly, before you begin?" He said in a soft drawl.

"Why...yes. Of course." The Dean began, stuttering slightly. He was clearly not prepared for that. "Well, both of you men are the best in your field by a country mile. Although Francis, at times you do not show it. Times are hard gentlemen. Very hard indeed. There is an onslaught of economic redundancies and the scientific community is leaving Britain and heading across the pond. In order to secure the university's place in science, in wealth, in standards and in a whole host of other areas, we need to think fast."

The Dean paused, looking from both Francis to Marcus. Francis had bee drifting in and out of the conversation, not hearing anything of interest yet.

"Now, I'm sure you two can piece together what a top inventor and a mechanical mogul as well as a top physicist and smooth talker could do to remedy this situation? Myself and a few of the other officials of the University were discussing it and decided that you two pairing up would be the best idea. Before we continue, you two are in agreement yes?" The Dean chirped.

During the small explanation of the Dean, Marcus' pen had not moved once, leaving a huge splotch of dark ink on the paper instead. The big words the other had used made no sense in his brain. During the few sentences Marcus' brows had furrowed together, his left one twitching quite often as he tried to turn his mind around the big words. "I, must admit that I do not understand." he stated as he finally pulled his pen from the paper and looked up at the Dean, then back at Francis.

Oh how dumb must they think he is! The words were probably not that difficult, but... He just didn't understand. How he wished someone was there with him to translate.

The Dean was unsure what to say. He stammered for a moment before Francis raised a hand to silence him.

"Basically," Francis began. "The American's are becoming more advanced than Britain is, and that is putting the University's status in danger. To try and combat some of the American science facilities, you've been given a grant to come and work over here with me."

"Yes! Exactly what Francis has just said!" The Dean said cheerily.

"Edward," Francis said to the Dean. "Perhaps you should word this in a more simple way than you have been doing. English is not Marcus' first language remember."

"Why yes. Of course..." The Dean spluttered.

When Francis turned to help him, Marcus smiled and nodded. This he did understand. Thank lord! "I see... But, what use will it have for me or Germany and Prussia?" he asked the man "I mean. I already got the title of Zahnrahd Meister. What else should I need?" he asked. "Not that I would dis...eh... approve? Of working together with some one else. But..." he stated. Then he closed his eyes and briefly thought. If he helped out...Wouldn't Britain be stronger at a point? Germans had their own way of making machinery and it was far more advanced than what he had seen so far in England. He himself wouldn't gain any thing.
With a slow exhale he then opened his eyes again and looked hard at the Dean.
"What is in it for me or my country?"

Francis chuckled slightly at the words of Marcus.

"A man after my own heart," he said simply, nodding his head at Marcus in approval. "Go on Edward. Thrill us, what are you going to offer for Germany?"

The Dean sat there for a moment. He took a sip of tea and picked up a biscuit, offering the plate silently to both Marcus and Francis before setting it down again. "Well..." he began slowly. "With the advancement that will be taking place in England, obviously a lot of capital will be coming into the country. Capital being money. We could split the profit with England and Germany. Also, if you two create something that is truly remarkable, both you and Francis will have even more publicity and wealth than could be dreamed of."

"But," Francis interjected. "What are the chances of us creating something 'truly remarkable' Edward? You don't expect us to build a teleporter or a time machine do you?"

Marcus felt more confident when he got approval of his so to speak colleague. Smiling he looked at the other before maintaining his stern face toward the Dean.
He politely refused the biscuit, for he had tasted one before in the hotel and they weren't to his liking, no need to eat something he did not approve of.
He listened once more closely to the now understandable words.

"Of what genre would they be? I will refuse to make anything that can be used in war." he stated. "Medical, I can do, toys and transport are fine too. But no more than innocent and harmless trinkets." he stated. Of course the German wouldn't give away any weapons. The Clanks he could build were a secret. No German was to speak of it, not outside the chambers of war and the hangars they were prepared.

The Dean almost choked on his tea.

"War?" he spluttered. "No no, my dear man. We don't want to promote war having large weapons that could destroy countries will not get this university the respect that is needed. Nor will useless toys. No, I think medicine is the way forward."

Francis raised an eyebrow. "You're trying to get me, one of the most developed physicists in the country, to faff around with medicine? Should you not go to the hospital and get one of the researchers, or a surgeon, or a doctor of high caliber to help with this? I do not see me being of any help in the medical field. I am not trained to know the human body, to know what is healthy and what is not. What machinery will kill or aid. That is not my area."

"Naturally you will be working closely with some of the superiors in Mercy Hospital," The Dean said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"In or out, gentlemen?"

Francis weighed the opportunity in his mind. Remaining silent as he considered.

Marcus listened, closed his eyes before he lay his head on the back of the seat, thinking. After a few he looked back at the Dean hard and stern.
"The project has not been set just yet, but will be of medical condition.." he stated before he rubbed his face with both hands and thought again, his brows almost meeting over his nose. "I'm in." he stated after ten long silent minutes.
"I do not have any work of any big importance at home. So I might as well give this a try."
Slowly he turned his head to look at Francis. "What will you do, Francis?" he asked the man in a soft and gentle voice.

Francis was unsure what he wanted to do. On the one hand, this could add yet another boost in his already high status. He loved the glory and the limelight. Creating a medical breakthrough could create the chance for advancement, for travel, for many exotic experiences and people. On the other hand, he could work his nose to the bone for little or no progress or reward. What if the invention didn't work? He also couldn't stomach the though of those big headed people at Mercy Hospital.

However in this case, the pros outweighed the cons in his mind. Marcus had already accepted the deal, so Francis thought he may as well follow suit.

"I'm in," he replied shortly.

At this Marcus gave a fair smile. "This is well." he nodded before he slowly ran his hand through his hair. Pushing a few blonde strands back in place. "Then it is settled. I would like to discuss the up coming project as soon as possible. But for now, I would just like to know what our work area will be and get to know my fellow workers." he stated softly. There were a lot of things that needed to be discussed. Such as finances, tools, accommodation things like that. Marcus couldn't be living in a hotel for the time he was in England, now could he?

The Dean clapped his rather chubby hands in delight as Marcus and Francis said they would work with him.

"Good good, jolly good," he said heartily. "Francis? You know where the labs are. Take him to lab 2. That's where you two shall be working."

Francis nodded silently, slowly getting to his feet. He smiled at Marcus as he straightened his coat. Picking up his briefcase he said simply "We'll need to stop quickly at my office first. Is that alright?" before he opened the door to the Dean's office and stepped into the hallway.

When the other stood, so did he. He took his coat and neatly folded it over his left arm. The German had a slight problem with compulsive behaviour. Everything had to be neat, so did his coat. Once he was ensured that there were no ceases in his jacket he followed the other out the door.
"It is fine." he smiled before he tugged at his shirt a bit, straightening that out as well before he closed the door behind him. "Are there any rules that I need to know around here? I did not get much information."

"To be honest, no. There isn't many rules here. The Dean likes to think that there are. In reality we all just sort of, pretend to work I guess. I guess one thing to be aware of is personal possessions. Never, touch anyone else's things without permission, and definitely never go into any other labs or offices unless you have permission. People here are a bit territorial. It's best you learn that now, than rub someone up the wrong way later," Francis said and smiled at Marcus. "But don't worry. I'll keep you right."

They walked along the halls for ten minutes until they reached the center of the right wing. Francis' office was locked, so he rummaged in his trouser pockets for the large brass key that would open the door. After a moment of turning the heavy lock over, he opened the door, leaving it open for Marcus to follow him in.

He placed his briefcase on his desk and took off his coat. He draped that over the back of the leather chair and turned on his heel, back to the door.

"Ready to go to the lab?" he said with a smile.

"I see." was by far, the most interesting thing Marcus could say at that moment. It was nice that the other man would keep him informed about the rules and would keep the tall German in line. "I would not dare to touch one's property without consent. " he stated before he just smiled back. Marcus made sure to read the signs that were bolted into the walls as they made progress through the massive building. As he was observing his surroundings he noticed that he had to adjust his fast pace of walking to the slower one of his companion.

After they reached the office, Marcus did not really walk in, but stalled in the opening of the door. "I am." he stated before he simply stepped back and waited for the other to lead the way. Knowing himself, Marcus gave himself two days to know the route he would have to use to get to the Deans office, Francis' one and the lab they had gotten for themselves.

Francis shut over his office door with a snap and locked it again, popping the key back into the front-left pocket in his trousers. He smiled warmly at Marcus and led the way further down the corridor. All the labs were on the right wing, well all the labs that Francis had jurisdiction over. The lab that himself and Marcus needed was one of the first on the block, it was a fairly large lab and had the latest technology. The Dean was very proud of the lab revamp. Francis was too to some extent, though he very rarely got to work there. Francis guessed they wanted to make a good impression on their little German friend, or that was the Dean's plan. Clearly Germany was much more advanced than this University could ever be.

"Ever built any medical breakthrough equipment before?" Francis asked as they neared the lab.

The German had walked with the other, trying to remember his surroundings, the way they went and of course, listened to the people which they passed. Marcus was determined to learn the English language quickly, for he did not want to be the joke of the university and the development team. There was one thing he had noticed straight away; there were not many women around. The ones that were making their way through the endless maze of corridors seemed to be occupied with simple tasks, such as delivering files from one room to the other or get their little trays of tea to whomever had ordered for it.
Marcus did stare at this simple fact. It was the question that Francis asked him which pulled him from his thoughts.

"Well...I've built a fully functioning fake leg, the one task that made me Zahnrad Meister." he stated. "It is full functioning, running on steam with a simple system." he explained. "I've also built some Wächters for my family. I guess that isn't very medical, but I know how to build limbs."
As they entered the lab Marcus was the first to step in and look around. It sure looked good enough to work in at first sight. That was until his eyes fell upon the rack with all the tools, gears and cogs. To him the system they had used was a true and utter mess. With a jaw that had gone slightly slack, he hung away his coat and put his bag under it before he moved towards the 'organized' wall. While doing so he made small groans and moans of utter disgust. Slowly he turned to the other with a sad look in his eyes. "Is it possible for me to move some things?" he asked the other, trying to hide the anxiety to tear everything down and build it up in a way that was more convenient.

Francis nodded as the man spoke. "Sounds interesting. More than I have built medically anyway. I'm not a man of medicine. I'm a man of automatics, I prefer building things that could be used in an automobile. I aided in building some train parts last year as a pet project of mine."

As they entered the lab Francis left Marcus to look around while he went over to the thermostat on the wall and turned the heat down a little. When they got working it would warm up like an oven in here, he knew that from experience.

After adjusting the temperature he sat down on a stool waiting for Marcus to join him. He raised his eyebrow slightly as Marcus spoke, but smiled warmly.

"Feel free," Francis said. "Just let everyone know where you move things too."