Menaces and Mysteries: A Fallen London RP (closed, started)

[DarkRawen]

"You wish for me to give you a reason to respect me, Mister Thomas? Very well. Mickey, could you be a dear and open the door, please? Sir Cutter, Nigel would you object to questioning those who were around at the time? And Mickey when your done with the door, could you go with them? I wish to have some alone time with Mister Thomas."

Thomas ignored her at first, waiting for Cutter, as the man seemed to have something to speak, quietly examining the man, but not seeing anything else than what seemed like... pity.

You don't get to pity me, you bloody bastard!

Thomas thought to himself, eyes narrowed as Cutter spoke.

"I'm truly sorry you got the impression that that was what defined a gentleman. But you're wrong. A gentleman, a true gentleman is a man who holds himself to a higher standard, and not because he believes himself better than others. A man of integrity, dignity, and honor. Someone who looks both friend and foe in the eye, fair and evenhanded in his dealings, and both kind and courteous to others. You see, a gentleman is just as much defined as what he doesn't do, as what he does. He doesn't carelessly resort to violence, he isn't needlessly rude or disrespectful. That, Thomas, is what a gentleman is, and that is what I try to be."

"Don't you dare," Thomas started, stepping up to Cutter again and making his presence more intimidating. It still bore the signs of a broken man, however, someone who had been ruined as a child, and never gotten over it. "Don't you dare try to tell me what a true gentleman is. Keep your pitiful and naive opinions to yourself, I didn't ask for your opinion, nor do I care for it. Someone like you don't understand, you don't know anything at all."

Thomas certainly didn't know all either, he was very well aware of it. However, Cutter reminded him of people he had tried to talk to, ask for help, only for them to inform his father, and get him in trouble.

Bloody gentlemen, always believing their own kind above anything else.

He then turned to miss Glass.

"And what is it you want, lady? An apology? Because you're not getting one."

 

[Tortilla the Hun]

There weren't many words from the whispering betwixt the goon and the one behind the door that Aidan could hear, but he could tell from what he had that failing to maintain his and Ptolemy's current standing could prove to be problematic.

Oh my...oh my, my, my.

"...hell perhaps you'll feel relieved to be rid of your wretched soul."

"Hahaha! Indeed, you might be right there, friend," the chemist proclaimed, struggling to keep his cheery tone. You dankish, ill-bred, flap-mouthed gudgeon, how I'd love to clobber your teeth in with a loose cobble. Ptolemy, please, for what little is good in this world, say something before I do just that.

 

[Texas Joker 52]

Edward M. Cutter, Esq.​

The moment he turned to the Church to wait for Mickey, Thomas stepped up to him again, and tried to put on a more intimidating presence. All it managed to do was irritate him, though his face didn't show it, his expression utterly blank.

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare try to tell me what a true gentleman is. Keep your pitiful and naive opinions to yourself, I didn't ask for your opinion, nor do I care for it. Someone like you don't understand, you don't know anything at all."

Halfway through Thomas' tirade, Edward's eyes hardened, and his large hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. All he had wanted to do was set the poor man straight on what a gentleman was supposed to be and offer what condolences he could for a man who was clearly abused as a child by some so-called 'gentleman'.

He hardly expected temper and posturing as a reply, and it was then he decided that, whatever the mans past, it was hardly an excuse for behaving like an ignorant, childish, and ill-tempered thug. But, he restrained himself on principle. He didn't lash out, instead folding his hands behind him and listening as Thomas finished. Once he did, he simply inclined his head in the barest of nods, and turned away.

Still, he could admit to himself in private how much he was starting to dislike that man, and how satisfying it would be to feel the crunch of cheekbone beneath his fists, even if it was hardly gentlemanly.

 

[Green Shoes]

"And be gentle, if you can..."

Mickey nodded hesitantly, before approaching the boarded door. Under normal circumstances he would have happily marched straight through, but, eager to make a good impression, he began to run his hands around the edges of the wood, trying to pry them off as gently as possible. Churches had never held any special value to him, though he knew that at least some of the group held respect for such places. Trying adamantly to be gentle, the wooden boards cracked and splintered under his strength, scratching the door panels. With a sigh, he tore the rest of them away carelessly, revealing the door.

Glancing back at Cutter and Priscilla, he gave an apologetic shrug, before placing his weight opposite the hinges. Pushing hard, the door began to groan and crack, before the lock finally burst and the door swung open, Mickey nearly falling inside.

Returning to the group, he motioned to the open door. Siding up next to Cutter and Nigel under Priscilla's instruction, he looked down at the inquisitive yet somewhat nervous Nigel. If the unfinished man was anything like himself, Nigel didn't stand a chance.

"Do you think the Unfinished clay man will be much of a problem?"

 

[SamtheDeathclaw]

Ptolemy felt the chemist tense up as the man spoke, then cleared his throat after Aiden forced a cheery remark.
"Yeah, yeah, if we could just get this over with? We're in a bit of a rush, mate."

It was then that Ptolemy realized he didn't actually have a plan, he'd simply been playing it by ear.

Ah, yes. Probably best not to let Aiden in on that little secret, hm? I'll find some way out.

"We'd like to discuss payment after the fact, if'n ya don't mind. Can't be too sure you ain't led us to ol' Jack o' Smiles's house," Ptolemy says to their guide, almost distractedly, trying to light upon a plan of escape. He has- well, it wasn't a plan. Not really. But it was better than nothing. Well. If it went wrong, they might end up dying horribly in addition to Aiden losing his soul.

But really, what else does one expect in the Neath?

 

[Quintley]

Nigel watched Mickey 'unlock' the church door with mild interest. It was rather well done, actually, compared to the mess their target had made of the other church. Technically, this probably counted as breaking and/or entering, but Nigel hoped that their commission would give them some immunity from the law. It didn't think much of the Glass lady's plan to deliberately involve the constables, but didn't want to argue with her. To be honest, Nigel found her rather intimidating. Although she did have a very stylish dress. (Nigel couldn't wear blue. Brought out the green in its skin.)

"Do you think the Unfinished clay man will be much of a problem?"

Nigel stared up at the looming monolith, considering the question. It nodded, and then patted Mickey reassuringly on the elbow (couldn't reach his shoulder). Yes, the Unfinished man was likely to put up a fight - but they seemed more than capable of handling it. Nigel didn't mean to brag, but it had read two and a half books on battle strategy, and therefore considered itself something of an expert in fighting techniques. If the group did get into a spot of bother, Nigel would simply have to find a nearby trebuchet. Admittedly, Nigel wasn't too sure what a trebuchet was, but according to the book, they were very useful.

All in all, Nigel was more concerned about the rest of the group being a problem than the Unfinished man - Moustache and Angry both looked like they wanted to strangle the other one. The only difference was that one of them would apologise afterward.

Deciding to take the initiative (a strategy also promoted in 'A Thorough Historie of Siege Warfare') Nigel turned to lead the way into the church, and consequently walked straight into the wall.

 

[IFS]

"Hahaha! Indeed, you might be right there, friend,"

"Yeah, yeah, if we could just get this over with? We're in a bit of a rush, mate. We'd like to discuss payment after the fact, if'n ya don't mind. Can't be too sure you ain't led us to ol' Jack o' Smiles's house,"

The man with the brass ring seemed a bit off-put by Aidan's laughter perhaps sensing the tension in the man, he shrugged and stepped back to lean against the wall opposite the door.

"I'll jus' wait out here then, keep an eye out," he said "No need for me to be involved in the, what do th' devils call it? Abstraction?"

The door opened and the Spirifer could now be seen, he was a rather mangy looking man, dirty and unkempt though his appearance didn't do anything in particular to suggest his profession. He had an odd hollow look in his eyes, and he gestured for Aidan to enter.

"Come on, lets get this over with," he said, gesturing for them to enter and take a seat in the large chair that took up the center of the room. He would shut the door behind them gently when they entered his small cluttered lodgings.

Spoiler: Room details

The center of the room is occupied by a large wooden chair, it has a few moth eaten pillows placed on it to make it a more comfortable. There is a desk on one side of the room which the chair has clearly just been pulled away from, strewn with papers as well as various oddities, a mostly empty bookshelf against another wall, a few odd looking braces lying in one corner, and a chest in another corner of the room. There is also a door presumably to the rest of the dwellings, though its doubtful the place has many rooms. The room is decently lit by candles, mostly sitting on the desk.

Spoiler: Watchful details

There is a strange green light faintly visible through under the lid of the chest, possibly that of souls though its hard to tell. The braces in the corner seem to be the sort marketed to the soulless, which aren't known to actually address any symptoms of soullessness other than poor posture. Some of the documents have the look of infernal contracts though one seems to be a piece of a map of London before the fall, such an item is considered contraband.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mickey's dismantling of the door was quiet enough to avoid drawing much attention, though a few of the gossips seemed to take notice. A few of them even seemed to try and get a better look at Mickey from where they were standing, though what they were saying about him couldn't be heard by the group.

The church interior was dark and dusty, cobwebs (at least one hoped they were only cobwebs) had accumulated all over. The place did not seem to have been disturbed since the constables closed it down and boarded it up, even the hidden door to the cellar where the souls had been held was still uncovered and open.

 

[SamtheDeathclaw]

Ptolemy stood, stretched, then leapt onto the arm of the chair. He turned to the languid spirifer with a smile.

"Now, old chap, apologies for any miscommunication, but we are not here for an extraction or abstraction or what-have-you," Ptolemy said. "No, we're with the Constables, looking into a specific case of soul-stealing. A priest. You may've read about it in the tabloids," Ptolmey shrugged here, then continued, "At any rate, we've been surreptitiously followed by a squad of well-trained men who are under orders to kill anyone inside this house if we don't make it out in five minutes." Ptolemy took a breath, looked at the man, then sighed.

"You seem a decent gent. Hate for you to die because you didn't talk fast enough. I'd get to talking were I you," Ptolemy said with a wave of the paw. "We'll even let you off the hook for trading souls without a permit if you're helpful."

 

[Tortilla the Hun]

"At any rate, we've been surreptitiously followed by a squad of well-trained men who are under orders to kill anyone inside this house if we don't make it out in five minutes."

Completely frozen, Aidan was unable to add to what Ptolemy had just thrown out there. He maintained a look of assurance, but at the same time he was screaming internally.

This is it, Aidan thought. It all ends here. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die again and this time it's for good. I'm gonna be killed in whatever horrifying manner these two deem fit, then my body is gonna be chopped into bits, and that will be the end of me.

 

[Terratina.]

"...well I'll leave that to your imagination."

"Please, I am a gentleman of his word." Viktor grumbled in response to the Devils, even though they were speeding away.

And so Viktor was left with a rather garish brass horn, a piece of paper with scribbles on it, an obligation to bring the Devils new prey and cryptic threats to what would happen if said obligation was not fulfilled - Viktor assumed that he would be the one who be the replacement prey, or worse. At least he didn't have to fear Abstraction. 'Curse that fad among the rich! No sense of value!' Viktor thought as he was reminded of the various soirées that were held to entice people into losing their most valuable possession. Ever since his Abstraction, days had been duller; only the strong feelings bleed through the haze such as hate, the burn of a strong drink and the sting of a strong rapier slash... Regardless, the mutterings about tricks and guns almost seemed like the infernal beings could read minds... Ha! If the very point of hunting humans was to make things interesting, then why not make it more interesting?

Thankfully, the bandaged gentlemen had about two days to settle the debt. Now to see if the Amused Devil had given him direction to a den of spirifers or yet another pile of rubble with nary a soul inside.

Sure, Viktor should have waited until the next meeting but couldn't hurt to have a look, right?

 

[IFS]

"We'll even let you off the hook for trading souls without a permit if you're helpful."

The Spirifer seemed confused as he steadily went pale then backed quickly away from the pair, pulling out a Spirifer's fork and brandishing it at them, not attacking but holding it in front of him to ward them off. He still seemed confused though, unsure if they were being honest.

"One of Mr Cup's relickers? Working with the constables?" he said, fidgeting nervously "Ha, sure right. I don't know anything about a priest, I just deal with locals."

He snorted, giving a nervous laugh "Not many priests in Spite," he hesitated, unsure what to say "Sounds like the work of the gang from Ladybones, heard they had to move recently, pity too I bet the devils are a lot nicer around the embassy than where they moved to."

Spoiler: Relickers

I mentioned them vaguely in the recruitment forum at one point, essentially they are servants of Mr Cups who deal in all manner of junk. A Relicker is always a duo of a person and a rat, the person has given up their name but the rats very often have quite long or fancy names. (Mathilde, Montgomery, Pinnock and Gulliver are examples of the names Relicker rats go by).

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The directions were surprisingly easy to follow given the normal difficulties one had navigating the quarter, and soon Viktor found himself drawing near to what appeared to be an old temple of the Fourth city, passing old and broken statues of horses and buildings reduced to rubble by time. It was difficult to make out clearly through the mists of the quarter but there seemed to be lights coming from inside, and movement. The flickering candlelight seemed tinged though, in spots a dull red glow was visible as well.

It was impossible to say how many were inside, but few of the figures visible seemed to be standing guard outside, holding guns from the look of things. At least one of them was looking in Viktor's direction, it was possible that he had even noticed Viktor, given how his gaze seemed transfixed on the Tomb Colonist's location, but other than his gaze he gave no indication of noticing the man's presence.

 

[SamtheDeathclaw]

Ptolemy was almost caught off guard by the man thinking Aiden was a relicker- almost. But he could make it work, spin it into a story. He wasn't sure just how the Master's influence over the Constables worked, but he as sure Mr. Cups could have a relicker and his rat join an investigation if the desire struck him for some reason.

"Yes, Mr. Cups has taken a... Special interest in this case. He asked us to join in the investigation. After all, no one will pay attention to a relicker and his rat." Ptolemy looked around the room, climbing up onto the back of the chair to get a better view.

"Then, again- the clock is ticking, tocking, ticking, tocking... If I were you, I'd be far more concerned with answering my questions than in the political maneuvering that led to my friend and I joining the Constables for this investigation."

Ptolemy turned away from the man. "Where did this gang move to? And keep in mind, I don't talk fast. I'd give you, oh, three minutes? Two fifty nine, two fifty eight..." Ptolemy turned back to the man, and looked him right in the eye. And prayed that Aiden had the good sense to keep up the charade.

 

[sage42]

Prisiclla sighed as she watched Nigel walk into the wall. Poor thing, well I suppose the squid's aren't known for their grace. She thought before approaching the no doubt embarrassed Rubbery man. "My dear Nigel, Thank you for offering but I have a feeling Sir Cutter could use your special talents far more than I could." She said honestly. "After all, I'm sorry to say neither he nor Mickey have your talents, You could notice things they cannot, you are simply more well versed in such practices." She told the squid. She had hoped the damn creature would take the hint. Just to be sure though. "Besides," She turned to Thomas. "I would like to speak to Mister Thomas. Alone." She turned away then and entered the dusty church. "Come along Mister Thomas, we have matter's to discuss." She told him briskly. She wanted this over and done with.

 

[DarkRawen]

"Besides. I would like to speak to Mister Thomas. Alone."

Thomas didn't reply, he just glared at her, and nodded.

I already told you I'd come along, are you bloody deaf?

Still, he couldn't help but distrust her intentions, did she really just want to speak? Could she be armed, and planning to do off with him?

We'll see about that, lady Glass.

"Come along Mister Thomas, we have matter's to discuss."

He followed her, and when she stopped, he lifted the bottle with alcohol to his lips, drinking a mouthful as he waited for her to start. However, he kept his eyes on her hands as he did, and when she didn't start speaking quickly enough -within a couple of seconds- he spoke instead.

"Hurry up already, this is a bloody waste of time."

She reminded him, slightly, of the Lady Poet. Of course, Lady Poet was a lot more beautiful, and clever, and of course, charming. She was someone to respect, strong in her own way, certainly capable of taking care of herself. Perhaps that was why he couldn't help but feel unimpressed by Priscilla's person, the fact that she paled in comparison.

Hah, as if. She's just some noble-woman either way.

 

[Tortilla the Hun]

Is...is this really happening? the chemist wondered, relaxing a bit and letting his arms rest at his side, placing one hand on his satchel for comfort. It's actually not going all that terribly. and to think I was intimidated by this man, hah! Though the gent outside could still be an issue...

"I sincerely hope you don't intend on putting that to use," Aidan said in the most confident voice he could muster as he gestured toward the sprifer's fork. Cautiously, he approached the desk and began to look over the documents. "If I were in your position, I'd be more concerned with the contraband you have strewn about. Of course, I suppose it's not all that troubling, considering i-when the constables arrive, well...you'll likely be shot to pieces. Unless, of course, you can give us a little more information than just the general whereabouts of 'the gang'."

"God, this man's working quarters are even more chaotic than mine," Aidan unconsciously muttered to himself as he fiddled with his satchel and moved it to his other arm. There was a soft click as a small latch had been undone. It would have gone unnoticed if it wasn't for the noises that escaped the polished case inside the bag.

"Very doubtful, knowing just how messy you can be."

"Indeed, you'd think a windstorm had swept through."

"Hell, a windstorm might even do it some good."

"Aye, I've no idea how ye can live in that place."

"We back home already? It's about time, I've been stewing in the dark for hours."

"Unfortunately, it seems we'll remain that way for a decent while longer."

"Ugh, I can't believe this."

"For the love of...can you quit your bloody complaining for just five minutes?"

"Someone please, just kill me and end this torment..."

"Come off it, ye moody bast-"

There was a rather loud snap and the wooden case was abruptly shut. There was a complete silence as Aidan fidgeted with the small latch, trying to lock it into place to prevent any more mishaps. "Blasted...should have had it fixed..."

 

[IFS]

"Where did this gang move to? And keep in mind, I don't talk fast. I'd give you, oh, three minutes? Two fifty nine, two fifty eight..."

The spirifer laughed nervously, seeming unsure if the ridiculous situation he had found himself in was a joke or not. He glanced rapidly back and forth between Aidan and Ptolemy, fork still clutched tightly in one hand.

"God, this man's working quarters are even more chaotic than mine,"

"Hey get away from there!" he said loudly, turning to face Aidan exclusively, holding the fork out threateningly, he seemed about to say more when the case opened and a number of voices spilled out. Further confusion flashed over the man's face and he stood still, baffled, for a few moments until the case shut.

"...You're mad the both of you," he said, advancing slowly towards Aidan fork still gripped tightly, his arm tensing up, preparing to strike.

"Look, that gang ran off into the quarter, I don't know where, now get out of my house," he said, "Now."

A knocking could be heard at the door, as well as the voice of the man with the brass ring "Somethin' wrong in there? Hearing a lot of noise for an abstractin'."

Spoiler: Documents

The documents on the desk are varied, there are a couple infernal contracts, fragments of maps predating the fall, various letters, newspaper clippings, and all manner of barely legible notes. Some of it is fairly damning (and possibly valuable to certain groups), as many of the notes pertain to spirifage, including a list of abstractions performed (though it is difficult to read, as is much of the spirifer's handwriting; one could be forgiven for thinking it is encoded), and the maps are contraband, but there is nothing particularly useful for the sake of the investigation.

 

[SamtheDeathclaw]

"Now," the man demanded.

Ptolemy looked down his nose at the man. "Are you quite sure you're in any position to be making demands here? But luckily for you, this is an urgent matter. We'll be on our way shortly."

"Somethin' wrong in there? Hearing a lot of noise for an abstractin'," the man called from the other side of the door. Ptolemy motioned for Aiden to come to the chair, then to the spirifer to stay quiet. Ptolemy cleared his throat, preparing to switch back to his slumrat voice.

"Ach, you can't change your mind now you bloody duffer. We'll have to pay that gent outside out-of-pocket, and god knows I ain't got no pockets." Ptolemy hoped Aiden could take a hint. "Oi! You, gent outside, whaddya want for bringing us here? This duffer's gone and changed his mind so we'll have to be payin' you ourselves."

Ptolemy had a sneaking suspicion that he was not going to talk his way out of this part- too many variables, and the man was already on edge. But he was nothing if not hopeful, and maybe Aiden would think on his feet and get them out. Or maybe they'd run for their lives, who knew?

 

[Tortilla the Hun]

Aidan eyed the spirifer cautiously with a brow raised inquisitively. Clearly he was more unstable than the chemist had previously believed, and seemed to be bordering on hysterics. Of course the little show put on by Aidan's own tools hadn't helped the situation any. Fortunately, in the brief time he had to look over the documents, it was clear that other than some contraband, there wasn't much of interest, be it for the investigation or personal use. It seemed the tidbit the spirifer provided was really all he had, unless he was particularly skillful in keeping things to himself which didn't appear to be the case.

"We'll be on our way shortly."

"Yes, indeed we will be, apologies for inconveniencing you. We'll be sure to inform the constables of your cooperation in this matter, so you needn't worry about that," said Aidan, speaking lowly so as not to let the doorman hear him. When Ptolemy spoke up again, addressing the goon, Aidan began patting down his pockets to locate his wallet. "Now, where did I put..."

 

[sage42]

"Hurry up already, this is a bloody waste of time."

Priscilla whirled and faced Thomas with a scowl on her face. "Oh believe me ya great bloody git I know! If ya hadn't been so dead set on cause so much trouble we wouldn't be 'ere!" She snapped finally losing her composure, she had slipped back into the accent she had before Veilgarden. "Ya complain and rant and rave about 'ow bad yew got's it! Ya ain't ta only who grew up wit a drunken bastard of a pa, or ta only one wit a Laudanum an' honey addled ma!" She continued before finally taking a deep breath.

"Forgive my tongue there Mister Thomas, it seems to have a mind of it's own when someone aggravates me as much as you do." She glared at him. "Now As I said you aren't the only one to have a rough life. Believe I know what it's like. But I'm trying to move past it and on to something greater. And what have you been doing with your life, Mister Thomas? Hmm? Brawling in pubs? Mugging people in the alley's at night?" She asked. "Or perhaps you've been working for a certain 'Lady'?" He really should learn to keep his mouth shut. She didn't know whether or not the woman he mentioned earlier was of any importance, but judging from his reaction to the reporter, it was clearly something he had meant to hide. Time to find what this thug is hiding.

 

[DarkRawen]

"Oh believe me ya great bloody git I know! If ya hadn't been so dead set on cause so much trouble we wouldn't be 'ere! Ya complain and rant and rave about 'ow bad yew got's it! Ya ain't ta only who grew up wit a drunken bastard of a pa, or ta only one wit a Laudanum an' honey addled ma!"

The sudden change of character startled Thomas, and he growled as a result, eying her with uncertainty. What the bloody hell had happened to that stuck-up noble-woman? She had just... become someone else. What--- what the hell was she doing? Thomas narrowed his eyes, and his body language became tense, not aggresive, but rather, he was unconciously attempting to protect himself from something.

"Shut up, or I'll bash your head in," he threatened, not knowing how else to react. He didn't raise his voice though, it was a cold, defensive threat, as he thought of what she had just said. "What the bloody hell would you know anyways?"

"Forgive my tongue there Mister Thomas, it seems to have a mind of it's own when someone aggravates me as much as you do. Now. As I said you aren't the only one to have a rough life. Believe I know what it's like. But I'm trying to move past it and on to something greater. And what have you been doing with your life, Mister Thomas? Hmm? Brawling in pubs? Mugging people in the alley's at night? Or perhaps you've been working for a certain 'Lady'?"

Thomas frowned, and put the bottle away. He didn't know what she knew, or how much, but that didn't matter. She knew something, and that something was far too much of a risk.

"That's none of your bloody, damned business. Do you hear me?! She's none of your business!" Thomas then turned to leave. "I'm aggravating you? You want me gone? Bloody fine, I'm out of here!" He was about to leave, seething but keeping it to a somewhat calm -for Thomas, at least- when he decided to add something, turning half-way so their eyes met. His was dark again, unrelenting.

"Follow me, and I'll make sure you never wake up. Got it?!" With that, he started walking. While he was obviously upset, his steps were surprisingly quiet and graceful, as if he was barely touching the ground at all. However, when he left through the front doors, the silence ended, as he slammed them to the point of damaging them as he did.

He glared at the rest of the group, before heading past them, not talking to them nor acknowledging them further than that. Thomas continued walking, his steps swift and aggressive.

Bloody hell. Bloody woman. What the hell did I do to her either way?!