Arcadia Snips and the Steamwork Consortium by Robert Rodgers

opinion? I can't recall. Mr. Tongue, did I ask for a bleedin' opinion?"
    "Ungunh."
    Mr. Cheek turned back to the bank manager, bringing one immense fist down to tap on the counter. "No, I didn't bleedin'
    think so. So if you don't mind, Mr. Babbleworry—"
    "Caddleberry," he corrected, and instantly regretted it. "Er, although Babbleworry is quite fine. My closest friends often call me Babbleworry. Kind of a nickname, really."
    "—we'd like it very bleedin' much if you'd just open an account followin' those specific bleedin' instructions."
    "I'll input these numbers into the calculating engine right away," Mr. Caddleberry said. "I'll do it myself. This instant!" He nearly tripped over the still-unconscious bank-teller on his way to do just that.
    ~*~

ACT 2
    ~*~
    "Professor Von Grimskull's monocycle roared beneath him as it thundered through the crimson night-sky, the wheel forged from sheer awesomantium snarling its way across the flaming dirigible's upper frame. The legion of steam-powered zombie air-pirates had all ready taken control, their engine-ladened frames churning out thick choking whorls of vaporized smoke; soon, the zeppelin would crash into the swirling energies of the temporal anomaly, completing the necrocthulthic ritual and fulfilling the eldritch prophecy — bringing an end to the universe.

    The bronze-nosed Von Grimskull made a low, deep-throated snarl. "The Doctor is in... VINCIBLE! ""
    —Professor Von Grimskull and the Zombie Sky-Pirates, Page 5
    ~*~

CHAPTER 11: IN WHICH OUR TITULAR PROTAGONIST MEETS WITH A SINISTER CRYPTOZOOLOGIST AND MISS PRIMROSE FAMILIARIZES HERSELF WITH ABERWICK'S ESTEEMED BANKING SYSTEM
    ~*~
    Snips was unaccustomed to traveling by anything other than foot; she had always preferred the feel of cobblestone beneath one's toes to the well-cushioned luxury of a hansom cab. But William seemed rather tired, and Snips was worried about officers in the upper ward recognizing her face. When he sent for a cab, she didn't complain.
    She gave the man directions and turned to William, her eyes drifting to his umbrella. He had drawn it off the coat rack moments before leaving the Steamwork; Snips could not wrest her gaze away from it.
    "Is something wrong, Miss Snips?"
    "Your umbrella," Snips said. "Before, you mentioned it was your father’s—"
    William grimaced and sighed. "Yes. Professor Daffodil."
    Snips nodded. "So you're—"
    "I'm afraid so," William said dejectedly, shifting awkwardly in his seat. "I am William Daffodil; Jeremiah Daffodil and Abigail Daffodil's son."
    "I heard of them," Snips said, which was at least half of the truth. "Big scientists, right? Ran the Steamwork?"

    " Mad scientists," William corrected her. "Responsible for endangering nearly half the city in that awful affair a decade ago."
    Snips bit down on her lip, turning to stare out the window.
    Sensing her sudden distance, William tried to put her at ease.
    "I'm well aware my father and mother were villains,"
    William explained. "But I am nothing like them. Mr. Eddington and the others have been especially kind, granting me an opportunity to prove myself at their old business, the Steamwork."

    "It's not that," Snips said. "Just, uh. It's complicated."
    "I understand. It is not easy to accept the fact that I have no connection to my parents beyond biology," William began. "It's just—"
    "Whatever your parents did or didn't do has absolutely nothing to do with you," Snips said, cutting him off.
    The horse at the front of the cabby gave a whicker as it stopped at the front gates. "Come on," Snips told William, stepping out of the carriage and toward the black iron gates. "You can wait in the lobby."
    "What is this place?" William asked.
    "Just a guy I know," Snips answered, her voice hollow.

    The Arcanum Estate occupied a small block of land in the upper ward; it was surrounded on all sides by metal fencing and signs that made it clear that trespassers would be shot, mauled by angry dogs, and then shot again. It