Steampunk II: Steampunk Reloaded
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Enter the Scintillating Clockpunk Gear-o-Torium: Herein dwell the breathless adventures that you secretly seek. Gaze upon the rebellious Mecha-Ostrich, the seductive Steam Dancer, the intrepid Mssrs. Balfour and Meriwether, and the hithertofore undefeated Cast-Iron Kid.
Experience the Delights of the Chrononaut Odditorium: An esteemed panel of self-appointed experts, under pain of ridicule, will reveal Top Secret Historical Enticements. Be dazzled by the first English translation of the quintessential Steampunk story “Flying Fish Prometheus” by Vilhelm Bergsøe.
Oooh and Ahhh at the Subculture Contraptor Lounge: Authoress of the Parasol Protectorate Gail Carriger gaily holds forth on the fashionable subjects of fashion, fiction, and more. The Steampunk Workshop founder Jake von Slatt’s “Steampunk Manifesto” shares his musings amusing and profound on the future of Steam.
Look Upon Our Brass-Plated Wonders: From the rough streets of modern-day Manchester, world-famous adventurer John Coulthart provides the near-tactile visual experience of this elaborative tome. He is joined by the likes of the artistes Secret Agent Ramona Szczerba (a.k.a. Winona Cookie) and Lovereaftian maestro Eric Orchard.
Meet the Masterminds: Editors Extraordinaire Ann and Jeff VanderMeer, the well-known literary vagabonds and mesmerists, do fully guarantee your satisfaction. However, the publisher does regret that the VanderMeers have become mysteriously unavailable to respond to any grievances.
It’s Steampunk—and it’s reloaded.
let out a long, mirthless laugh. “This how you get to become a man, is it?” he asked. “Well, little Johnny, let’s see what make of man you are.” Johnny pulled back on the sling, rubber straining, scrap-wood creaking, the smells of sweat and rat-glue cutting through his fear. The Kid started to laugh again, the sound circling and repeating. Then he fell silent as something struck his chest with a clang, a wide iron bar marked “N” and “S” at either end. Gears froze as the magnet’s power flowed
offi ciously buttoning the doll dress; my mother sweeping from the parlour with the fascinating book—I recognised this dreary feeling. As soon as I evinced a budding interest in some area of worldly affairs, people inevitably began working to keep it from blossoming. I was meant to be vapid and colourless like my mother, a silent helpmeet in the shadows of Father and my brothers; I was not to engage with the world myself, but only to witness and encourage the men’s engagement, to be a decorative
background to it, like the parlour wallpaper, like the draped window against which my mother smiled and sat mute as Father discoursed to our dinner-guests, the window that was obscured by impressive velvet at night, that in daytime prettified the world outside with its cascade of lace foliage. I had barely had time to accustom myself to my new role as mistress of Cuttajunga when Mr. Goverman informed me that he would be absent for a period of weeks, riding the boundaries of his estate and perhaps
thank you, Philip,” said Chloe, stiffly. “I too can read the time.” “It is my pleasure, m’lady.” He trundled into her field of vision, and smiled up at her. She thought it was a smile, at any rate. It was often difficult to tell. Dromedons did not have mouthes, as such: rather cunning arrangements of flesh and orifice that suited the purpose. Ragged ochre fins ran down the sides of his head, and flecks of purple mica swam in the greys of his eyes. “May I fetch you a stool, m’lady? You must be
be able to walk, but I don’t think he can climb stairs. I haven’t tested him. I was waiting until I finished his face.” He held up the metal jawbone in one hand and the two shiny bolts in the other. “I’m almost done.” “Do it then!” Dr. Smeeks exclaimed. He clapped his hands together and said, “How exciting! It’s your first invention, isn’t it?” “Yes sir,” Edwin fibbed. He neglected to remind the doctor of his work on the Picky Boy Plate with a secret chamber to hide unwanted and uneaten food