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

[IFS]

"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."

The man could be heard sighing outside "Jus' give me a few echoes, don't expect me t' guide you out of here though," he said, sounding annoyed but not suspicious.

The spirifer just glared at them while moving by the desk where Aidan stood and sweeping the documents away from him with one hand. He kept the fork held tight in one hand but kept it closer to himself now, as opposed to holding it threateningly at Aidan like he had before.

"You can pay your own way out," he said, then muttered to himself "bloody relickers."

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Thomas's departure was noticed by the gossips, drawing their gazes more towards the group at the church, and changing the topic of their discussion. The streets were quiet around him as he went on his way though, nothing interrupting his route.

 

[Texas Joker 52]

Edward M. Cutter, Esq.​

When Mickey pulled off the wooden boards covering the door, then simply pulled the door out of the hinge, Edward couldn't help but inspect his handiwork. All things considered, it was surprisingly neat, and he nodded approvingly.

"Not bad at all, my good chap. Not bad in the least." he said with a small smile beneath his mustache, patting Mickey's shoulder.

He stood just outside however as Nigel, then Miss Glass and Thomas strode into the abandoned church. It wasn't very long before Thomas stormed out in a huff, glaring at the rest of the group, Edward included. The hunter simply met his glare with an impassive gaze. After a minute passed, he finally stepped into the church and strode up to Priscilla's side.

"I'm sorry that didn't work out, Miss Glass. It seems Sir Thomas is determined to be..." he paused, searching for an appropriate word before settling on, "Difficult."

With a soft sigh, he shook his head in disapproval. Then he simply clapped his hands once and looked at her with a somewhat more encouraging expression.

"Regardless, we have an investigation to continue, so, shall we? I'll follow your lead, Miss Glass." he said, motioning to her with a large hand.

 

[Terratina.]

So, the spirifers had taken refuge in an old, crumbling temple. How quaint. However, what about the poor archaeologists? Then again, ramble infested every square inch of old, dilapidated buildings, from the slums of Spite to the honey dens of Veilgarden. It mattered not what the buildings where before the plague of decay had taken them, just that they were unused and out of the eye of the constables. Still, it was a shame such a place had been claimed by the spirifer scum - Viktor would have liked to explore the place a little if not for the vermin. Speaking of which,, they were armed and they could be many. Not all of them had the decency to stand outside all lined in a row. Perhaps the old man should've retreated, leaving the investigation to those better skilled and equipped to sneak into the spirifers' den? Maybe. The stubborn git refused to walk away, and gingerly attempted a little sneaking of his own.

 

[sage42]

"I'm sorry that didn't work out, Miss Glass. It seems Sir Thomas is determined to be...Difficult." Priscilla glared out the door for a few moments before turning back to Sir Cutter. "You have no reason to apologize Sir Cutter. I would have been happy had he just worked with us." She sighed. But I struck a never with the 'Lady'. I may need to do some digging on Mister Thomas.

"Regardless, we have an investigation to continue, so, shall we? I'll follow your lead, Miss Glass." She nodded. "Right you are Sir Cutter. We still have a soul eating clay-man to find." She spoke more to herself than the group. She turned and finally took a good look at the rest of the church. Dusty, dark, and certainly unused for sometime. The door leading into the subsections of the church would most likely be their best bet. She took a candle and it's carrier from a nearby pew. "Does anyone of a match? I have a feeling that the way down is going to be awfully dark."

 

[DarkRawen]

Thomas was more than a little annoyed. How dared someone like that try to find out about the Lady Poet?! Not only that, but everyone tried to tell him how to behave, it wasn't his bloody fault that he was so damned angry all the time! He'd been thinking of going to a pub before getting to the Lady Poet, get a couple of drinks so that it'd be easier to tell her that he wasn't going to do that anymore. Even if she told him to, and even if he was being too angry about it, that didn't bloody matter!

He kicked a flower-pot outside a shop, before continuing. He didn't slow down after that, though, even as he got to where he would normally find the Lady Poet. It was a somewhat nice place, if it hadn't been for all the annoying people there, especially that bloody Robbie who was playing the piano, glancing at Thomas, unimpressed, when he entered.

That bastard!

However, he ignored the man with the long blonde hair, he had been told not to cause any trouble inside the restaurant, and he made an effort to do that. Besides, Robbie wasn't important, not at all, he was looking for the Lady Poet, after all. While she owned the whole establishment, most of her business was done in the back-room, where she ran a hidden Honey Den. Thomas went up to the door, knocking on it.

"Lady Poet, it's me. Are you busy now? I tried, but it was a waste of time. I did find out something, though."

 

[IFS]

Viktor

The man's gaze followed Viktor as he creeped along, the mists did conceal him somewhat but not enough it seemed. As he drew closer the man shouted at him.

"Hey! This is an archaeological expedition, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave," he said, a hint of fear slipping into his voice. He stepped a bit closer to Viktor as he spoke, and one of the other men standing watch turned to look in Viktor's direction as well though he stayed put.

From inside the temple the faint sound of breaking glass could be heard, followed by muffled shouting. The words were impossible to make out, though the faint red glow from before seemed to intensify as the shouting did.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Lady Poet, it's me. Are you busy now? I tried, but it was a waste of time. I did find out something, though."

The woman Thomas called Lady Poet was sitting comfortably in the back of the room on an expensive looking couch, holding a glass of wine in one hand and a few wrinkled documents in the other. She took a moment to finish reading them and then set them aside before she looked up to greet Thomas. Her attire also looked relatively expensive, she wore a fine red dress, marked with a few honey stains, and a mask, and her brown hair was tied neatly behind her head.

The room itself was small and dimly lit by candles but there were pillows and comfortable furniture strewn about, as well the occasional bowl of honey or bottle of wine left lying around. She was not alone in the room either, in a few places there were dreamers just returned from their honey dreams, or a few just about to embark. The Poet sat apart from those though, and they paid no attention to her.

"What did you learn dear? And what made you decide it was a waste of time?" she said calmly, though there was a slight edge of sternness to her words.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Church Group

"It's Jack!"

Their investigation was interrupted by a scream from outside, people scattered in all directions as a madman with a knife darted out of an alleyway in pursuit of some poor woman. He had already slashed at her face and her clothes were stained with blood, she glanced back to look at her pursuer and stumbled.

Jack-of-smiles laughed and leaped towards her, grinning ear to ear and slashing his knife back and forth in the air before him as he ran. A simple kitchen knife this time, though bloodied and certainly sufficient for the maniac's purposes.

 

[Texas Joker 52]

Edward M. Cutter, Esq.​

Priscilla took the time to glare outside in Thomas's wake for a few moments before she answered. Edward could hardly blame her, the man was more than simply difficult. That was just the most... Diplomatic term he could come up with.

"You have no reason to apologize Sir Cutter. I would have been happy had he just worked with us."

"I suppose I should feel the same," he conceded with a soft sigh.

Then he straightened when she took a nearby candle and asked for a match, suspecting that the way further into the church would likely be too dark to see much. With a somewhat confused expression, he started to pat the pockets of his hunting vest.

While he wasn't one to smoke, he had to have something on-hand for just such an occasion. He was anything if not prepared--

"It's Jack!"

His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the scream outside, causing him to whirl around and rush to the broken doorway. He was greeted by the sight of a man, grinning widely as he slashed a kitchen knife threateningly towards a retreating woman. From the looks of her, he had already gotten several good cuts in.

The hunter didn't even need to think. With a perfectly calm expression on his face, he reached back with practiced fluidity and drew his Elephant Gun with one hand. With the other, he pulled two cartridges from his vest, and in the span of a scant few seconds, Victoria was broken open, loaded, and pulled up as he aimed.

It wasn't much longer before the barrels were trained on Jack-of-Smiles, and the moment he had a clear shot, he fired with trained precision, aiming at the man's head.

 

[Quintley]

"It's Jack!"

Nigel took one look at the knife-wielding, grinning maniac, and raced for the church doorway (with surprising speed for someone in petticoats). After nearly being knocked over as Moustache came careering out, gun in hand, Nigel shot inside, headed for the back of the room, and ducked behind a pillar.
It occurred to Nigel, as it tried to ignore the fairly disturbing racket from outside, that it had been hiding in churches a lot recently.

 

[Tortilla the Hun]

Pocket after pocket, Aidan was searching with no avail it had seemed.

Oh no. Nonononono, this can't...let's see, I went to the markets, bought some ink, then... He was frozen in place while he tried to mentally retrace his steps. His hands began to move more frantically as he was running out of places his wallet could be. It's just one bloody things after another today, isn't it? I can't even catch a goddamned brea--oh, here it is.

The chemist sighed in relief before fishing his pocketbook from the inside of his jacket. He quickly stepped through the doorway after fishing out a few echoes from his billfold, and not before paying the brutish-looking chap, offering a nervous smile with the small payment. He stopped only a foot from the doorstep to look back and make sure Ptolemy was with him, continuing only when his companion was atop his shoulder again.

 

[DarkRawen]

Thomas entered the room and sat down next to Lady Poet, glancing at the other people there, not sure whether he should talk or not.

"What did you learn dear? And what made you decide it was a waste of time?"

He did notice that she didn't sound completely pleased, which he hadn't expected either, and spoke, as calmly and maturely as he could. "A lady there appeared to know who you were, Lady Poet. I told her it wasn't any of her business and left. Besides, those people... all stuck up and righteous. I told them to leave me alone, but they just kept persisting with their lectures." He leaned a little back, and brought the note up from his pocket, handing it to her. "We were investigating some soul-stealing unfinished man or something, a priest gave me this, told me to bring the souls we could recover there, saying something about it not being very legal. You could use him, probably. Just blackmail him or whatever." He leaned back on the couch, slightly, and continued.

"As for the group, it was nothing special. Just some upper-class man named Cutter, some nob-- no, some woman who tries to trick everyone into thinking she's an upper-class woman, Priscilla Glass. Then a clay man, a rat, some more blokes, and a rubbery man. No one of interest, though that bloody woman was the one who knew about you." His tone got sharper as he spoke about the group, but he caught himself in it, and spoke again, sighing.

"Apologies, Lady Poet. My point is, I didn't think it'd be worth it for someone like that to find out who you are, and she was aggravating me. They all were, mocking and showing their own ideals onto me. I'm not going back." He then sat up a little. "Could I have a glass of wine, by the way? I need a drink, or fifty."

 

[SamtheDeathclaw]

Ptolemy sat, tense, lashing his tail as Aiden paid the man, then headed out the door. He untensed only slightly once outside, but let out a long breath of air.
"Well, that was quite an adventure," he said quietly, "Got a bit sticky there for a minute. Head around the corner and watch for that penny-ante thug. I don't want to be followed down a back alley and murdered just yet. Then, we'll see about flagging down a hansom and getting bloody well out of here. Never been a fan of Spite."

Ptolemy glanced about, distracted. He didn't spend much time in Spite, and Masters willing, wouldn't have to come back for a while. Bloody spooky place. Orphans and thieves and cramped market stalls selling God-knows-what.

He realized with a half-start that he was already missing his cozy office in Veilgarden, despite all his big talk of adventure. He couldn't turn down the echoes, though, or the potential connection with the other agents. He needed to rebuild his connections one way or another. He shrugged, so well as he could.

 

[IFS]

"He then sat up a little. "Could I have a glass of wine, by the way? I need a drink, or fifty."

"I'm afraid not, you still have a job to do," she replied calmly "Even more so now that this Priscilla has gotten involved, in addition to your previous role you'll need to keep an eye on her, see if you can figure out what she knows and how she knows it."

The Poet leaned back and took a sip of her wine, her face was hard to read through the mask but she had a calculating look in her eye. She paused for a moment, taking the note he had handed her and examining it before speaking again, her voice somewhat less stern than before.

"This alone proves that your position there will be useful," she smiled sweetly at him "I'm sure you can handle those few you mentioned, though do keep in mind its not your job to declare that they aren't of interest."

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "I'm trusting you to do this dear, no one else can so don't let me down," those last four words brought back the stern edge, though it was still more subdued than before.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Aidan and Ptolemy

The man accepted the money, counting it as they left, giving only a raised eyebrow and curious glance in their direction as they strolled away. It was only a short walk before they found themselves in one of the crowded markets of Spite, dozens of vendors selling all manner of wares from stalls, the stench of a nearby tannery filling the air, the noise of all manner of transactions of varying degrees of legality; and of course for the observant any number of possibly illegitimate dealings could be spotted among the crowds.

It would likely prove difficult to find the Spirifer's lodgings again, but Spite itself was easily navigable, or at least as easy as London got.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Church group

Victoria gave a thunderous crack and the side of Jack's head was struck by the gun's powerful shot, not quite a direct hit but more than enough to send the man toppling backwards, blood and flecks of brain leaking onto the pavement. His knife fell beside him, shattering in two as it hit the ground, and the woman he had been menacing gave another shriek as she pulled herself up from the ground and continued moving away.

Following the gunshot a raucous clatter could be heard, and soon a number of burly constables seated on velocipedes rounded the corner, their wheels bouncing across the hard cobbles; the Velocipede squad had arrived. They stopped and dismounted around the body of the fallen Jack, two of them warding curious bystanders from drawing near, the third approached Edward, shaking his head, a mixture of sadness and anger evident on his face.

"Take it you dropped him?" the large man said, his voice had a low growling quality to it, "Good show, good show," he sighed "Sad to see another one of them go that way though, mind giving me your name?"

He paused and glanced behind him into the church "That lot with you? What're you doing in St. Dunstans?"

 

[sage42]

"It's Jack!"

Priscilla whirled back around to try and asses the situation. Apparently Sir Cutter had been faster though, she caught sight of the monster that had been Jack-Of-Smiles fall with what had once been it's head obscured by a red mist. Priscilla sighed in relief. She would have been more than useless in a fight.

She took a better look at Sir Cutter. It seemed his prowess with that rifle were no exaggeration. Priscilla would need to make sure that she stayed on his good side. He would make an excellent guard, if persuaded right. She mused to herself. Now now Priscilla, one servant at a time. Rome may have fallen in a day, but it certainly wasn't built in a day. She thought as she went to join Cutter on the steps. It seemed that the Constables had arrived on the scene. A tad too late unfortunately.

"What're you doing in St. Dunstans?" Priscilla smiled. "Ah my good sir that is a fair question I suppose. Yes we are all together. You see we are here on orders from the Department of Menace Eradication, investigating some...unfortunate rumor's surrounding an Unfinished Clay Man. I apologize we did not alert you to or presence but time is of the matter in this case. He is far ore dangerous than the average Unfinished Clay Man you see." She explained. Hopefully the constable would just accept the explanation and be his way sooner rather than later. They had already been chased out of one crime scene today they didn't need it happening again.

 

[Green Shoes]

Mickey watched in silent surprise as the man referred to as Jack was hastily dispatched by Cutter. The sound and assumed power behind the gun gave him a comforting confidence; not only was Cutter a polite and friendly gentleman, but a fine shot; perhaps Mickey wouldn't even have to go toe-to-toe with this Unfinished Man.

He is far more dangerous than the average Unfinished Clay Man...

Mickey cocked his head at the off-hand mention; had these people dealt with similar incidents before? Keeping the question to himself, he walked over to speak with Cutter, noticing Thomas' absence as he walked. Curiously inspecting Victoria, he reached his hand out to touch it, before stopping short. Knowing full well his lack of a gentle touch, he was resigned to simply look at the fanciful weapon, speaking plainly.

"Good shot. Where's Thomas? Need me for anything?"

 

[Texas Joker 52]

Edward M. Cutter, Esq.​

When the lead slug pulped the side of Jack-of-Smiles head, the hunter allowed himself the barest smile of his own. He didn't exactly enjoy the act of killing, so much as simply firing the weapon, and the thrill of the hunt itself. But, he did find some satisfaction in a quick, clean execution. After all, he couldn't have asked for a much better shot.

It wasn't long after that another clatter of noise rose up as a Velocipede squad came around a nearby corner to inspect the scene, and the origin of the loud gunshot. While two tried to disperse the crowd, the third walked up to Edward with a mixed expression.

"Take it you dropped him? Good show, good show. Sad to see another one of them go that way though, mind giving me your name?"

"That I did. I am Sir Edward Cutter, big-game hunter and new special constable with the Department of Menace Eradication. I take it that was the infamous 'Jack-of-Smiles'? A menace to the population if I've ever heard one." he said, nodding as he lowered Victoria.

When the constable asked about the rest of his group coming out of the church, Miss Glass was kind enough to explain, and he nodded in agreement at the Unfinished Man they were tracking being more dangerous than the usual. Edward found himself being accompanied by Mickey in short-order, who looked over Victoria with curiosity, even reaching for the Elephant Gun before pulling back.

"Good shot. Where's Thomas? Need me for anything?"

"Why thank you, Mickey. At the moment, I can't think of anything offhand, and as for Thomas... He left on other business. Not sure what." the hunter told him with an apologetic shrug.

Then he broke open Victoria, unloaded the both the fired and unused cartridges and slipped them both back into their places on his vest. Once Victoria was safely empty, he offered it to the Clay Man.

"If you want, you can look at Victoria up-close. She's a sturdy rifle, and I'm sure you won't harm her." he said with a trusting smile.

 

[IFS]

"That I did. I am Sir Edward Cutter, big-game hunter and new special constable with the Department of Menace Eradication. I take it that was the infamous 'Jack-of-Smiles'? A menace to the population if I've ever heard one."

"Aye, he was also the man we had on the Smiles case," the constable paused and turned to yell at his associates "Hurry and get that mess cleaned up!"

"Ah my good sir that is a fair question I suppose. Yes we are all together. You see we are here on orders from the Department of Menace Eradication, investigating some...unfortunate rumor's surrounding an Unfinished Clay Man. I apologize we did not alert you to or presence but time is of the matter in this case. He is far more dangerous than the average Unfinished Clay Man you see."

"I see, well you have my thanks for your timely intervention Mr. Cutter, I don't envy your current choice of quarry though," he said, pulling a cigar from his uniform and lighting it "Once had an unfinished man throw a cab at me, horses and all."

The now cigar-chewing constable paused to glance back at his associates, one of which was doing his best to clean up the site, collecting the corpse and the fragmented knife to be taken back to their offices. The other seemed to be keeping an eye on the bystanders who had begun to draw back in, some of them murmuring excitedly about a Jack sighting.

The constable shook his head and turned to face them again "There was an unfinished man reported hanging around this church some time back, never did spot him myself though, stopped hearing about those a while back anyways."

It was difficult to tell from his rough demeanor, but the constable seemed to know more than he was letting on, his eyes rarely met Edward's or Priscilla's when he spoke of the unfinished man. He also seemed to be deliberately avoiding looking at Mickey.

Spoiler: Details for Nigel

The Rubbery man's chosen hiding spot seemed to be concealing a secret of sorts, more clay flakes like those found at the previous church could be spotted here, though they had been there some time and were fewer in number. They also seemed to be in a shape on the pillar, almost unnoticeable, but possibly in the shape of a large hand missing its pinky finger missing. It seemed that whatever left them would have had to lean against the pillar for some time to leave such a lasting mark.

 

[DarkRawen]

"I'm afraid not, you still have a job to do. Even more so now that this Priscilla has gotten involved, in addition to your previous role you'll need to keep an eye on her, see if you can figure out what she knows and how she knows it."

Thomas groaned, and leaned back again. He'd been counting on that the Lady Poet would let him skip it. Or at the very least have a couple of drinks. What was so important about that damned department? What could she possibly hope to learn from a building full of constables? "Lady Poet, there's absolutely no reason to go back to the group. If you want me to, I could just hunt her down later and crush her." Thomas never made a difference between men and women, if he could hit one gender, he could sure as hell hit the other. However, it seemed the Lady Poet had already made a choice, as she kept speaking.


"This alone proves that your position there will be useful. I'm sure you can handle those few you mentioned, though do keep in mind its not your job to declare that they aren't of interest. I'm trusting you to do this dear, no one else can so don't let me down,"

The Lady Poet was putting her trust in him, smiling as she did. Her hand on his shoulder was comforting, and his hand lingered on it for a slight moment, before he stood up. "Fine," he muttered, not very happy about it. Thomas felt calmer now, though, as he usually did when he was close to her. "I won't let you down, Lady Poet. Don't expect a miracle, though. I'll be back when the mission is done." With that, he looked at her, expecting her to say something more, deciding to leave when she had, and get back to where he had left the others.

 

[Tortilla the Hun]

The array of sounds and smells of the market stalls certainly served as a minor distraction from what had just occurred. Had he the funds, it's likely the chemist would peruse the unique wares in order to further the recent events from his train of thought. It seemed clear that the spirifer he had just met wasn't the man they were looking for, nor did he have any concrete evidence, at least not of the particular crime the pair was investigating. The man started for the nearest main street, or at least in the direction he suppose a main street would be, wondering what sort of welcome he may receive were he to return to the area. He wondered exactly what word, if any, about himself would be passed on by the spirifer and the thug.

"I'm not a drinking man, Ptolemy," Aidan started, visibly more lax now that they appeared to have come out of the previous bind scot free, "but I've a rather strong feeling that this particular line of work would certainly drive a man such as myself to the habit."

 

[Quintley]

The back of the church was dark, with dust suspended in the air. Luckily, Nigel was particularly well adapted to seeing in the dark. It leaned around the pillar, nervously watching the entrance, and almost by accident spotted the dirt markings, a little above shoulder level. Only the faintest impression, but the shape...? Nigel's hand hovered over the imprint. Only four fingers. As before, it scraped a few shavings of the dirt into a small glass vial, which it put in an inside pocket of its coat. Nigel guessed that the two samples would match, but it was no chemist.

The cacophony outside seemed to have died down, which was either a good sign, or a very bad sign. Nigel decided that the others were more than capable of either fighting or talking their way out of any trouble. If not, hopefully one of them would have the decency to scream as they were brutally murdered or dragged away by unmentionable horrors, thus giving Nigel some time to hide again.

The hand-print can't have been too recent, since the church door had been boarded up (and their quarry wasn't one to leave a church discreetly). Although, there might be another way in and out of the place. Nigel was rather fond of hidden doors (it had several in its shop, after all) and as such was mildly disappointed to find the door to the cellar was both unconcealed, and actually open. Well, a look around wouldn't hurt. There might even be a few little curiosities down there that, hypothetically, no-one would miss. Nigel headed into the cellar, making a point to leave the door open behind itself.

 

[IFS]

"I won't let you down, Lady Poet. Don't expect a miracle, though. I'll be back when the mission is done."

The Poet smiled again "I'm sure you'll do fine, I look forward to hearing from you when its finished," she said, picking up the letters from before and continuing to read them.

The trip back to the others was uneventful as well, though the scene Thomas arrived to certainly was. After all the constables were cleaning up a Jack corpse, another was talking with Edward and Priscilla, and the people who had fled from the Jack were steadily returning. In fact the crowds were growing compared to what they had been before, people trying to edge closer to get a glimpse of the Jack.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Nigel

The cellar was dark and clearly cleaned out, the constables had been quite thorough in that regard. A few empty crates did sit about, as well as some unlit candles. Cobwebs clung to walls in places just as they had in the rest of the church, though in even greater number down here. There was a distinct lack of secret exits, at least as far as the Rubbery man could tell.

Peering into some of the crates they weren't all as empty as they seemed, bits of junk, an empty bottle, a broken fork tine, torn bits of paper and so on. One crate even seemed to contain a few relics of previous cities tucked away here and there, a couple seemed to be forgeries but there were a few genuine tablets and tiny cinnibar idols. They looked to have been dug up from the quarter, save the forgeries of course.