Timed Misery (1800's Supernatural Mystery Adventure, Closed Game Thread)

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Dr Beakon luggage car

The doctor raised his hand to his nose, before attempting to wipe most of the blood away. Finding a surprisingly large quantity he reached into his jacket and brought out a handkerchief. Pressing it against his nose he was able to mop up most if not all of the blood. His nose, he realised was still broken so with a quick movement he pushed it back into place, grimacing slightly.
"I am pleased to see that no one is hurt" said the Doctor "well except me . Any suggestions for what to do now?"

Near Train to Harkstead...

Horses! Three of them to be exact and with saddles and bags, at a glance look to be holding some camping gear. One brown, one black, and one grey are there, and tied to a tree within a small clearing past the brush.

No one is nearby and there is barely any evidence of anyone passing by.

On the Train....

The chase goes on, until the pop, pop, and ping of bullets wiz over John's head from up ahead.

Jacqueline-Near the Railway Tracks to Harkstead

They said that this was the land of opportunity, but this seemed too good to be true. There were three horses! One black, one grey, one brown. Each one saddled and ready to ride, they were carrying camping gear as well. She could easily take one and ride to Harkstead instead of walking. But one thing kept niggling at the back of her mind: where had they came from ? And where were their owners? Healthy horses with provisions don't appear out of nowhere.

Did it matter? No.

Whoever had left these horses were long since gone. Finders, keepers, loosers, weepers. It was childish, but Jacqueline couldn't stop herself from laughing slightly at the thought.

Jacqueline suppressed her qualms, took the reigns of the black horse and lead it back to the dirt path, where she mounted it and carried on her way, galloping towards Harkstead.

Donal - Passenger Roof

Donal ducks under the rounds. He loads his rifle lying flat on his back, trying to keep as small a target as possible.

John- Dodging bullets on the Train to Harkstead

This seems to get more and more interesting. John knows he may be tough as nails, but bullets can really do a number on him. He slowly disembarks the train and runs along the side to try to get around the shooter.

Warren. Luggage car.

After chatting with the other occupants of the car, Warren could make out that non of them were at deaths door. The Doctor had made off with only a bloody nose, and both the French woman and the new gent were safe.

"I'm glad that you are all unphashed. Well, mostly," he corrected after looking at the Doctor again. "But I did hear a gun shot. Is the man we are after armed or was it one of our friends that have given chase?"

Warren could hear several more shots coming from the front of the train.

"I'd certainly like to know if I should be worried, or relived."

(Sorry on slow, keyboard broke and I'm usin a Pad)

Jacqueline-Near the Railway Tracks to Harkstead

(Nah those come later, though you just made a big choice that will impact everyone, for better or worse =D. Achievement Broken Line. The worst moral issue was not helping the Doctor for Donal.)

Riding off as the sun rose... After a distance a weird frisson was felt and it was like the sky grew clouded and grey bright as it still was, with a chill tight in the air. Jacqueline was being watched, not that'd she'd ever know, and the watcher smiled, holding tight to hope.

(you are on pause for the moment unless you want to do anything else small)

[quote="SkullKing84" post="540.386040.15450844"]John- Dodging bullets on the Train to Harkstead
(coulda swore you were already off the train,but whatever)

Train to Harkstead...

Whom ever was firing was going for amount over aim, and John with his size and skills managed easily if a bit slower. Approaching and rounding a bend in the cars the firing stopped. Looking ahead were a staff car, coal, and the engine itself, nosign of hammer, shooter, or anyone.
donal soon found that he was not the target of the fire, and more so after John had gone ahead.

Donal- Passenger Roof

Not seeing any shooters in the treeline and daring to continue on, Donal crouches up and cautiously moves ahead to the Staff roof.

He gambles the shooters haven't noticed him yet. He lies down and waits for John to draw their fire and reveal themselves.

John- next to the train

John picks up a good sized rock. Just getting ready to lob the stone at the next guy who has a gun or Mr.Hammer. With his defenses up and strides towards the staff car, preparing to go in, expecting trouble.

Lucrece Leblanc - Harkstead-bound Train, Luggage Car

She was getting tired of the gentlemen crowding her, she pushed through and looked out of the window, wondering where Jacky ran out to, and if she should do the same, as the countryside looked safer than a rickety train with a red-headed murdered on board. For all the urgency of the situation, she was at a loss to what to do. From the sounds of it, the Irish ruffian was still trying to hunt down the man with the hammer, but whether he had succeeded, she didn't know. The barrage of questions came again, she pulled out a fan from her purse and preceded to fan herself with it.

"I am pleased to see that no one is hurt" said the Doctor "well except me . Any suggestions for what to do now?"

"But I did hear a gun shot. Is the man we are after armed or was it one of our friends that have given chase?"

"I have not a clue to what we should do next, Doctor." Lucrece replied, "I believe that is one of our friends, as I handed him the rifle myself, Monsieur...?"

It would be nice to know the name of the younger one, after all, Lucrece was finding herself wanting to speak of someone more near her own age, of her generation. Not these middle-aged muggles.

Harkstead Train-Mid-Morning

Due to the angles of firing and the trains roof, the options to hit anything that didn't blatantly stand up or raise their head were high, but most else low.
Approaching the door it is ajar and John can see through it well enough, three men there are, one is obviously Mr.Hammer, another in an odd harness of leather and metal with pistol handles sticking out like no tomorrow, and a priest to hazard a guess at his attire. The two new men were white, with brown hair. Looking roughly the same and with short simple hair, they could pass for twins from the back.

All three at a small table, enjoying a drink of some sort in tin mugs, and sitting on piles of dead(?) bodies of the passengers scattered around the car.

The priest spoke in a voice accustomed to sermons and silence, of replies and comfort, and hints of an English Man.

"Goodbye sir, enjoy the rest of your life, short as it is."

With that the world and everyone in it seemed to simply go "Blorp" no other word described the exact feeling.
November 21, 18XX, Mid-Morning. Weather Cloudy/Cold. 31 Days till Solstice

Aboard the Train to Harkstead...

Much of the train and it's occupants were the same still, and the Conductor had long sense left back for the staff car. Many of the passengers had a rather unsettled feeling, and some couldn't quite place the events of the ride. Many blamed sleepy feelings, others simply the bore of the ride.

A few in the back of the car felt like they knew one another, even if they didn't quite understand what had transgressed.

Lucrece knew what she learned before from touching her fellow occupants, but it lacked a certain something, or someone, she couldn't place it. For the others she knew them well enough to chat casually in a sense, and something about guns and murder flitted in the back.

Donal was left like he should have his gun, and could feel his heart beating slightly faster.
John was quite the same, and his right leg ached as if scratched and cut, but no injury was there.

Warren and the Doctor were shifted as well, and felt like something was amiss, though they knew not. The Doctor still remembered much of Lucrece, though the conversation was at a lost to him.

Bertam was still a slumber, though his memories remained much of the same, he could feel himself rousing from a dream of fights and the train involved.

Perhaps the only one who could shed light on the situation was Jacqueline, sadly she was already in sight of Harkstead, wrapped against the chill with a laden horse, and smelling the sea. Nearby the Train was pulling in from around a bend, and the noise was at her ears. It made sense for why they arrived around the same time, but no sign of panic or injury was visible from afar.
One passenger smiled glad that everything worked out in the end, the "villains" foiled. Late because of one horse missing, and failing to erect the signs, or prepare the barrels of powder.

All was well for now, and perhaps things would be better.

John- Aboard the Train to Harkstead

Not sure what just happened, he turns to the other passengers and politely nods.

Donal - Passenger Car

A little uneased by the big man's polite nodding, Donal grumbles. He stands up, heading into the luggage car for no apparent reason.

Lucrece Leblanc - Harkstead-bound Train, Passenger Car

Lucrece found herself sitting in the same seat as before, seeing a somewhat familiar bull of a man nodding. She ignored the nod and turn to the window, watching the cloudy sky that spoke of foreboding and winter. A somewhat familiar group of passengers were sitting alongside her, in the same car. Lucrece couldn't shake the feeling that she had known them once, memories of handshakes and the memory fragments of others rose up in her head. She winched at a vision of blood and gunpowder, only to be calmed by a fragment of a dark night and towering chimmeys. Lucrece took a cigerette from her purse, placed it on the holder and lit it, only to notice that one cigerette was already absent. Surely this was the first cigerette of the journey? She took a deep drag from it, the nicotine calming her nerves. Faint memories of hers and others from a time about five minutes into the past, more dream-like than real. Lucrece wondered if she had fallen asleep, as the smoky town of Harkstead was pulled into view, all too soon...

Jacqueline-On the Horse, Approaching Harkstead.

Jacqueline was braced against her horse, providing little shelter against the wind pounding at her face. It was exhilarating, it reminded her of the numerous times she had run atop the roofs of London evading the lumbering police force. The air smelt like salt and she could see the sea, it was nothing she had ever smelt before, it was refreshing nothing like the stench of the slums.

The train to Harkstead was catching up with her, she heard the the unmistakable clackety-clack, clackety-clack of the wheels and saw it peeking around a bend in the tracks. Strangely there were no signs of disturbance, the big burly man wasn't on the roof, nor was the red headed Irishman. Maybe they apprehended him in the end?

It wasn't time to dwell on such things though, she would ask them once they arrived at the station. She pressed her horse on, hoping she would beat the train.

(Instead of the massive description, I went with ask and order)

Harkstead, Mid-Morning at the Train Station, Mid-Town.

Arriving at the train station, people began to disembark, porters took care of luggage and receipts notified the owner who held the same mark.

The hustle and bustle to and fro from the area was quite evident. Residential and business were nearby, along with inns and other rest areas. Considered the middle class area of Harkstead, it was here that the crossroads of its veins pulsed.

Carriages drawn by horses were nearby, some shifting constantly but always available to those in need. Day watch could be seen as well in the crowds, at corners, and very noticeable.

A few young lads were selling papers, some called head lines, others pestered. The most common ones were... "Murder by Needles and thread! Darned and Damned strikes again!"

Most people barely gave it a pause at the use of Damned, perhaps being more common for recent events.

Harkstead Outskirts, Downtown.

Jacqueline perhaps misjudged her timing as the train pulled further in to the city, the space of time for her arrival matching it by minutes. Nearing civilized land and with the flow of people, she approached a nearby stable and business, horses ready and carriages set, a sign was up displaying "Buy, Sell, Trade."

From here it was up to her for where to go, signs and sight could match the station and other areas.

Donal - Midtown, Train Depot

Donal busies himself unloading his wares onto the platform. No doubt this will take a long while, considering his merchandise takes up nearly the entire car.

Harkstead, John at Midtown, heading to a tiny Chinese "theater"

As soon as John got his dufflebag he started asking around where he could get work as a pianist. But soon as he says work, people interrupt the large man and point to the mines.

"Oh, er... Thats very kind, But... no i'm not here for THAT. Yes, I am serious... I'm a pianist... WELL! No need to get rude! I'm also a prize fighter! Hey... where did ya go?" pretty much summed up the conversations.


A tiny wrinkled filled Chinese woman with a cold dead eye tugged at his meaty hand. When he looked down, Her hands where fidgeting as if she had a stroke. Took him a minute, but, he realized she was mimicking a piano.

"Yes! A piano. Is there a a theater?"

She simply pointed to where a small group of dirt caked Asian men were walking to. A filthy mud path that the sound of live stock echoed from. When he went to thank the old lady... she was gone.

" Uh, if not i can always work the mines till my dreams come true"

Lucrece Leblanc - Train Station, Mid Town

The journey had been a smooth, but odd one. She couldn't shake off the feeling of forgetting something. All these fragments in her mind, all memories of other people. Lucrece could match the memories to the faces, but couldn't recall herself of physically contacting them. She sighed as she called a porter to help with her luggage. Lucrece took another drag on her cigarette as she watched the poor man struggle with her luggage. Finding the cigarette reduced to a stub, she flicked it out onto the railroad tracks. Lucrece found the smell sweet, unlike the smog and smoke of the train station. The noises of the station were varied but still loud and annoying nevertheless. The young lads screamed over the thunder of the moving trains.

"Murder by Needles and thread! Darned and Damned strikes again!"

Damned was such a strong word to use but Lucrece just accepted that as a facet of this new country. She walked over to one of the boys and give him two cents, the price advertised, and an extra four to tell her where the nearest hotel was. With that, she walked over to the porter, still struggling with her belongings. Lucrece sighed and walked over to the end of the station and saw a most curious thing; a rider on a dark horse. This sent a twang of deje vu up her spine. She waved over to the rider, more out of reflex then of concious thought. After that she walked back to the porter, hoping the buffoon was finished with getting her luggage out.

Jacqueline-Harkstead Outskirts, Downtown.

The train was faster then expected. It must have resumed it's usual speed once they had taken care of 'Mr. Hammer', it would've passed her if it hadn't needed to slow again to pull into the station. As the passengers disembarked, she saw someone waving in her direction, she recognised the dress; it was that damned aristocrat. Jacqueline ignored her, she already knew too much. If her father had gone so far to spread the reward posters here then she was done for.

There was a small stable near the entrance of the city, a wooden sign that was fluttering in the wind had "Buy, Sell, Trade" painted on it. She was tempted to sell the horse, it was healthy and in good condition, it would've made a pretty penny, but if she needed to make a quick escape it would be advantageous for her to keep it. She paid for the horse to be stabled there for a week.

The city was now hers to explore.

She made her way to the more affluent looking part of the city to case some of the houses there. On her way she casually picked the pockets of those who looked rich enough to have something of value on them.

The Doctor at the train station

The doctor disembarked from the train and quickly glanced around, pleased to have finally arrived. As he waited for his baggage he contemplated possible arraignments for his accommodation. He wanted somewhere out of the way, discrete; as long as it was functional he didn't care. He needed time to think and recuperate; believing himself beyond the reach of British authorities he was more relaxed but he forced himself to not take chances.

Brought back to reality by the clatter of passing hooves he looked up expectantly hoping to see his baggage materials from somewhere inside the luggage car. Instead he was greeted by the face of an irate looking passenger. She looked familiar, very familiar in fact. The doctor glanced up at her face again, surveying more of her features, her hair, her stature, all seemed to him like the image of distantly remembered cousin.

Deciding not to comment he patiently stood in line behind her

Butchers, bakers, tailors, cobblers, candlestick makers, any number of things opened up around in general.

Lucrece Leblanc - Train Station, Mid Town

The young boy smiled and was obviously enamored during their business, and quickly spoke of a good place to anyone coming in from the station.
"Angels Rest" it was called that by the owner, a matron of a woman and fair as a pin, you could balance a coin on her, and trust it to be there when you got back.

Glancing the paper in any event would lead to the front liner of "Hark! The Herald!" paper, it's obvious one being that describing a recent rash of attacks, most involving young men and women at night, found dead mostly. Orifices sewn shut and done so well, they are horrendous to witness. Some escape and scream, tearing at the thread that binds them, but most die in the end due to disease.

It'd describe quite well how the eyes, lips, ears, and other areas were sewn so well and what must have been fast compared to any human. Occasionally arms, legs, and appendages to each would be bound as well.

Other noticeable stories reported on death at the mines, minor parties and wealthy doings, and the political background rabble found so well.

madox ford:
The Doctor at the train station

(I'll assume Lucrece)

Waiting around and as more things were brought forward, and carriages were loaded and dispersed. A porter came by and simply asked, "Will that be all Sir? Needing any directions and such?"
A young man he was being quickly called over by another currently handling what seemed to be Lucrece's luggage, and failing.

Harkstead, John at Midtown, heading to a tiny Chinese "theater"

Most people who passed the strange hulking man turned the other cheek as he followed a small group of Chinese quickly winding down to allies and small path ways, it was clear they were heading to the slums, as the smells and sounds began to wash over him.

It was up to John if he wanted to follow, as strange looks and odder folk began to get drawn to him

Jacqueline-Harkstead Outskirts, Downtown.

Leaving the horse and the gear (which you never bothered to actually check) in care at the stables and paying a worthy sum, a light purse soon grew heavy in the jacket.

The wealthy and sporting were few and far between, but most seemed rather easy. A watch of weight and wealth, a wallet and purse, and what appeared to be a jeweled shank of sorts oddly enough. Cheap and worth not as much as it should were it real, they were still all small and interesting items to tide anyone over, that is with a good fence.

Approached suddenly from the side during the press of a crowd as a carriage passed by, a young rather dapper man wearing a simple cap and brown suit, stopped Jacqueline in her tracks.

"Pardon me, but I think you dropped this." It was a small metal case, silver in appearance, and decorated by someone who had much time, love, and passion to give.

He was honest looking with a dirty blond hair, and his face was bright like the rising sun. Shadows wore at his eyes, but he had a sort of determined fire about him. Unlikely as it was, it may have fallen out during a pick pocketing from a victim, or simply slipped somehow near her.

Donal - Midtown, Train Depot

Pile and loads of things were deposited, and a Porter quickly chipped in, "Sir, if you're interested in selling, I got me a brother that works down yonder at a place that'll buy these up quick."

Directing down the main road and past the noticeable sights of market stalls was where he pointed, as two other porters grunted under the effort of a rather large bear.

Harkstead, John heading deeper into the slums

The slums, nothing new for John here. The strange looks are starting to creep up his spine. The tight space made it a little uneasy, but, he pressed on to see if there would be a "golden nugget" in this smelly neighborhood.

Donal - Midtown, to down yonder

"Aw, t'ank ye sir, t'ank ye."

Donal notices the two men struggle with the bear.

"Careful! T'at animal is priceless!"

He assists the other porters unloading the stuff. It is at least another twenty minutes before the work is done.

Donal stands with his wares on the platform, wondering how he can move his merchandise.

Jacqueline-Harkstead, Downtown.

Her coat with its many pockets soon become heavy with the wealth of Harkstead; wallets, watches, a fine looking shank, they were all hers now. The wealthy of this fine city were oblivious to their empty pockets, either to slow or too arrogant to notice what was missing. It was easy pickings.

As the crowd thinned to let a carriage by, a young man wearing a plain brown suit and brown flat cap with dirty blond hair approached her. He was honest looking and determined, but shadows circled his fiery eyes, giving him a eerie look like he was being haunted by something.

"Pardon me, but I think you dropped this." Said the mysterious man

He stretched out his arm, revealing a silver case, it looked like a gift a lover would make for their partner, decorated with passion and love. It was impossible that she had dropped it herself, that was a sign of a bad pickpocket, the noise of pennies or watches clanging against the paved road would give you away in a heartbeat. It could have just dropped near her, or fallen off the carriage that just passed. It did look like it would make a good deal of money, maybe this was just fortune smiling on her.

"Thanks" She said using a man's gruff tones.

She took the case from his hands and quickly rounded a corner into a dark side alley. She opened the case up to see what was inside.

Donal - Midtown, to down yonder

Carriages and carts nearby look to fit the job.

Harkstead, John heading deeper into the slums

While not as famous or even remotely evident in the eastern coast Opium dens still were out there. Harkstead with its size and nature was bound to have at least one in plain sight. The men had led John to such a place of ill refute, little more then a shack against a larger warehouse like structure as the entrance.

The smell had barely any effect with his physique, and the sound of violin and other music drifted to his ears as well. The men walked through the door and pushed past a dark purple cloth, from there it was up to John...

Jacqueline-Harkstead, Mid-Town.

(You are heading uptown by the way, and passing mid)

In the alley the case gleamed like a pearl in a clam shell, masked only by her figure and shadows. Inside nestled in a soft cushion or stuck through were numerous needles, a small spool of black thread. The case fit easily in ones hand as if to hold cigars, and the amount it held seemed almost disproportionate.

The crowning jewels of the case, amongst the red velvet that felt divine, were 3 pins, one with a small ruby, another with a small emerald, and the last with a sapphire. Each of startling quality and almost mesmerizing hue.

There were no signs from her eyes to tell of the previous owner, or if her hands had even touched such a thing. Either way it was a fetching piece.

Harkstead, John outside of an Opium den

John's face scrunched in disappointment as he stared at the opium den. He knew what would happen. At first he may play a few songs. Then they'd figure out he can fight, because he is huge. Then the same crap he grew up with all over again, but with opium drug lords. He shook his head and started a slow sad walk back towards the mines.

"Guess I'll have to wait on my dreams just a little longer"

Lucrece Leblanc - Heading towards the Angels' Rest, Mid Town

Her stomach churned as she read about the serial killers known as the Darned and the Dammned, all the orifices of the victims sewn shut, making for graphic imagery. Seeing as the porter was finally done with the task at hand, she beckoned him over, noticing a vaguely familiar man that had chatted to the porter than came over and helped hers with her luggage. The man looked at her in manner of a close relative or great friend. Strange. Lucrece could not help but gag a little as the memory of gunpowder and blood resurfaced. Enough of gory images, she had to rest after than journey and to get those images out of her head.

To the Angels' Rest then, with overloaded porter in tow...

Jacqueline-Harkstead, Mid-Town, Heading Uptown

She quickly checked if anyone had followed her down the alley, no one had, then proceeded to inspect the contents of the case. There were a number of ordinary looking needles stuck through or laying on top of the fine red velvet pin cushion. The raison d'etre of the case contents were three fine silver pins, each delicately topped with a different gem, ruby, emerald and sapphire. She dared not leave something so valuable in the reach of other pickpockets and slipped it into one of the pockets hidden in the lining of her coat.

The case would get a fine price on the black market, probably enough so she could start planning her next heist, first she would have to find a fence, but they could be found easily enough if you knew where to look.

That could wait. Harkstead looked similar to London in the way it was laid out, different districts for the different classes, but she needed to know the lay of the land, even with her ability escaping without knowing where to escape to was a fools errand.

She continued towards the richer district looking out for inns or dos houses.

(To clarify a few things, I apologize for slowness as I'm still using a pad minus key board.
John headed south-east in town, Lucrece west, and Jacq went north)

Harkstead, John outside of an Opium den

A sharp twang so out of pitch that it could make anyone wince, followed by splintering wood, and the prompt flying of a body out the door of the den. Whomever in there didn't appreciate music or the maker.

The person would inevitably crash in to the street, were it not for John in the way. It was up to him on the other hand whether, to catch, avoid, or simply ignore.

If one bothered to examine the now hurtling figure, they could call him white and fair of skin, ragged and worse for wear, but with a sort of refined air about him. His hair was cropped short and oiled with cheap stuff, and gleamed a bit like a beetles back. His face was a bit well rounded if a bit gaunt.

Lucrece Leblanc - Heading towards the Angels' Rest, Mid Town

It was a relatively short walk, and the porter hoped to high hell it would end sooner. Assited quickly by another, the walk was a simple one, the crowd a bit of an affair. Approaching the building once in sight, it looked alright. Sturdy masonry, windows and wooden frames, Cozy, or pleasant came to mind with it.
The doors were open with a welcome warmth and hints of fire, tables, and generally great atmosphere leaked from it.

The feeling was familiar, almost as if from someone she had met, though by profession and history, it was more like in a dream...

Jacqueline-Harkstead, Uptown

Reaching uptown the houses were larger, the places better, and generally everything was good. A few posh business were evident, and it seemed any inns or rest homes were nowhere to be seen. Until at last before her eyes was one, a place that screamed "If you are rich welcome, if you are not leave, no rabble, filth, or otherwise."
It was white, made of wood, and looked something close to a mock manor, "The Lily." Plastered with flower of the same name.

Noticing as well, Day Watch were out and about in the area as well, keeping eyes for any wrong doings, and greetings all the affluent folk.

Harkstead, John outside of an Opium den

Using the force of the hurtling man turned the catch into a formal dance. With a twirl John manages to set the man up right on his feet.

"Oi! Whats all dis den?"

Warren. Harkstead. Walking through downtown

Warren felt slightly bewildered walking through the streets of what would be his knew home. Back on the train, it felt as if he had lost a considerable about of time. And the strangers around him when he got off all seemed familiar in some way. It didnt matter now. He could shake off the feeling with ease. More important things to do at the moment.

The first thing would be to find a place to eat. He hadnt had the time to sit down and have a decent meal since before he boarded the train. Warren waved over the nearest citizen, and young woman, and inquired on her.

"Excuse me ma'am. But would you kindly point me to the nearest eating establishment?"

The doctor leaving the station

The doctor was approached by a young man who mumbled something before running off to help one of the porters. He waited patiently for the woman in front of him leave before collecting his own bags from the luggage compartment and hailing a carriage. Climbing in the back he asked to be taken to one of the smaller lodgings in the town. A place by the name of THE ROTTEN PERCH which was located in one of the seedier districts of Harkstead.

Lucrece Leblanc - Angels' Rest, Mid Town

The porter sighed in relief as the establishment known as the Angels' Rest came into sight. Even more sighs of relief could be hear as they walked through the door. Lucrece looked around the place, it seemed alright, appropriate for a person of her station. Oh who was she kidding! She was a lady of the night through and through, right down to the scarlet stockings. She sighed, this was the kind of comfy, well furnished haunt her clients would choose to arrange a rendezvous. Still, if she could fool the passengers on the train and this lowly porter that she was nothing but an airhead of an aristocrat, then maybe Lucrece had hope in this emerging nation. She walked over the counter, money ready in hand and tap the bell to beckon the receptionist behind the counter.

Harkstead, John outside of an Opium den

The mans eyes still clutched tight awaiting a face plant that was not forthcoming, opened and blinked, his gaze quite piercing with an icy blue.

"My thanks good sir, such grace for such bulk, must be a killer with the ladies?" He smiled and removed himself brushing off invisible dirt, and visible dust.

"Names Teagan, Parley, I hail from Wales and give you a gracious thank you for saving my face from kissing the road we trod."

Fluent and with little accent, his voice was filled with humor and light of heart one.

"May I thank you by offering a drink and a place to ease our feet?" A brief crash followed by shout in anger followed his question from inside.

"Perhaps quickly Mister...?"

Warren. Harkstead. Walking through downtown (New*, and "A" I'll assume. Grammar and spelling lad...)

Looking him up and down, she merely pointed to a small place, looking like a small bar and eatery, no name was clear, and looked to be more of a hole-in-the-wall establishment.

[b]Lucrece Leblanc - Angels' Rest, Mid Town[/b

"Hallo, Bonjour, and Welcome." The person waiting in the small lobby like zone came quickly and looked eager to help. Perky and in a clean dress with a scrubbed face, hair brown and in a bun, she wasn't plain, but nor was she enticing in any special way.

Green of eyes and best described as "Pure", "How can I help you madam?" Briefly haggling and discussing price a room could be acquired with ease, and with a window as well out of luck.

The price was good and had meals included in the dining area across from the open lobby, and a few rules were placed along with laundry concerns. Any visitors of the male kind were welcome though the receptionist seemed to hint at something else, booths were available if privacy was needed, but the owner forbade two sexes to meet in rooms alone. No ring, no chance was the owners policy it seemed, if you had a pressing issue or something then you could inform her, or questions about it then ask her.

Small bins were in place for laundry and other trash, and other simple things were in place.

The place was heaven, prices down to Earth, and rules had hell to pay if broken.

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