Xavael?

With a rolling sound, Darien pulled himself out from under the line of machines to his chest and looked up at Wren, who had tilted her head to the side to look down at his goggles curiously.

"Wren, what did I just shout?"

"Something like...'Salad Oil?'"

Dr. Mason extricated himself from the underside of the tangle of wood and brass and set up, the wheeled planks shone under the gaslamps as he adjusted the ropes that held them against his back.

"Hrm. The consistency is about what I'd need..." He rad the tip of his black rubber glove along the inside rim of the massive engraved iron hoop. "Though vegetable oil has a lowing burning point. A light mineral oil, perhaps. I'm sure the Clockwinder knows where to find some."

Wren set the toolbox she held for him down and wrapped her arms around his leather apron. "Father? Will your project be ready soon?"

Darien removed his goggles, revealing his eyes now awash in a malevolent emerald aura. "Oh yes, my sweet Wren. Very soon."

The Scientist chuckled as he patted his your assistant's shoulder. Only a few feet away, Qlippothic's brass frame lay helpless on the table, cables wrapping in an out of her circuitry at every point and weaving back into the machine. Darien had already disconnect her voice modulator as punishment for challenging his theories. Her burning eyes glowed brighter as she watched the ceiling, through which one could see a figure clad entirely in black silently securing a device with suction cups to the skylight.