I have nothing related to the DC universe as I have only just started looking at it. Here's the writing sample I submitted at XPG, I hope that is okay, if not let me know and I will find something else to submit. DC - No pun intended those are my initials. The hansom cab bobbed rhythmically up and down as it passed onto The Imperial Way, the further they got from the docks the less traffic there was and Pendranick was pleasantly relived by that. The bustle and noise of the docks - which were always busy with incoming and outgoing shipping regardless of the time of day - was almost overpowering, Pendranick was not fond of crowds at the best of times. He drew his Hunter from the pocket of his waistcoat and popped it open. It was a few minutes after nine. "Hmm� running a little fast." "Six days, seven hours and eight minutes fast," commented his fellow passenger. "You are still on Greenwich Mean Time Mr Pendranick. I am sure that the Governor General has a watch-smith on his staff, I shall take it to him in the morning and have him adjust it to local time for you." Thomas Pendranick replaced his hopelessly inaccurate timepiece, and settled back in his seat with a slight sigh. The watch had been his father's and had never lost a minute, even when removed from the temperate climate of England to this, the hottest, most arid and far-flung reach of the Empire. "Thank you Erek but no. It isn't as if it is broken, so I am loathe to have it tinkered with, after all it has delivered sixty years of exemplary service to myself and my family." "But it is telling you that it is the early hours of the morning when it is quite obvious that it is the middle of the night." "I do appreciate the suggestion but I think I will have it put into safe keeping at the Residency, and will avail myself of a timepiece from a local watchmaker." He knew that Erek Moh would note the word 'watchmaker' and not use the term 'watch-smith' again, he was alert and picked up things at an almost alarming rate, in the eight months Pendranick had been acting as his mentor the native youth had learned almost flawless English, even if it was a little too precise sometimes. "Perhaps I'll get one of those new fangled chronometers that I can strap to my wrist. No danger of a pickpocket getting that one heh?" The Imperial Way was one of the few streets in the city that had lighting along it's full length and as the cab passed beneath one of the gas lamps Pendranick could see that his companion's complexion was looking distinctly pallid. "I say Erek, are you feeling all right, you are looking a trifle peaky." The youth leaned forward a little as he made a rolling motion with one hand. "The movement of the cab is making me feel a little nauseous." This was a bitter irony, thought Pendranick, three days on board a boat that had weathered a couple of bad storms and young Erek Moh had shown no ill effects whatsoever. And his first time in a hansom cab threatened to lay the lad low. He had availed himself of the telephone in the Shipping Master's office to contact the British Legation; perhaps he should have taken advantage of the horse and carriage the Governor General's aide had offered to send for him. He patted his assistant gently on the back as the hansom rounded the corner onto Ship Street, and reassured him that they were nearly at the residence of Her Majesty's Governor General, and he instructed the cabbie to pull up in the road outside instead of drawing the hansom into the forecourt. Alighting first, Pendranick assisted his companion down onto terra firma; he heard the crunching of military boots on the gravel of the forecourt, which abruptly stood to attention with a precise stamp. The words that followed matched perfectly in tone and courtesy, as he would have expected. "Superintendent Pendranick? Mr Willoughby said you was coming Sir. If you would like to come with me Sir, I hunderstand His Hexcellency is waiting for you Sir." Pendranick turned to see a soldier of the South Wales Borderers standing smartly to attention; who executed a perfect salute, without making eye-contact. "Thank you Corporal. One moment please." Pendranick took a moment to check on his companion, now he was out of the bouncing carriage Erek Moh's naturally robust constitution was clearly on the up. "You boy," the soldier barked, "take your master's baggage round to the servant's entrance." The Corporal spoke with more than a little contempt; Pendranick had found this attitude towards natives to be an almost universal constant amongst whites the Empire over. "Mr Moh is not a servant Corporal," Pendranick told him, "he is not required to carry my bags. I suggest that you roust out a couple of your redoubtable chaps, and would you have one of them show Mr Moh to the kitchens, we haven't eaten this evening and he is a mite peckish." Even though Pendranick was indulging in a little 'place putting' it would not be seemly for Erek to express his amusement, even if it was common amongst Europeans of the lower classes to believe that indigenous people would eat them at the first pang of hunger. He hid his face by turning back to the cab to pull Pendranick's Gladstone bag from inside, and then he went to pay off the cabbie who was engaged in unloading the remainder of their luggage from the rear. Pendranick considered the night shrouded building before him, for The Residency wasn't merely a single structure, as well as being the being the home of the Governor General, this was also the administrative heart of the colonial government. Like most European settlements, once established as being in control the ruling immigrants preferred not to use appropriated local buildings, preferring to build in the style of their home countries, and the British Empire was no different. The abode of the Governor of the Martian Colonies looked like nothing more than a manor house that had been lifted from the countryside of the Home Counties of England. Similarly, most of the buildings that were the backbone of the colonial bureaucracy wouldn't have looked out of place in London. Their attempt at remodelling was also reflected in the gardens, by the gaslights in the forecourt Pendranick could make out rose beds and lilac bushes amongst the plethora of English plants and shrubbery, as well as perfectly tended greensward of lawns beyond the wrought-iron railings. In such an arid climate this ostentatious display of water dependant flora was nothing more than an exercise in power. | 
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