[IC] The Gaslamp Shadows, London's not going to be the same... Options

[Prae]

John grins at the barkeep. "If another chap is paying, It would be rude of me not to accept the offer. I'll have a glass of your best mulled wine."

[Critias]

"Thank you." There was no need for Han to be rude, was there? He'd asked a question and gotten the answer he needed. Whether Black Jack knew it or not, The Hand had just beaten him in a fight. The elf keeps his tone clipped and formal, his English as textbook-perfect as only textbook learning can make it.

"Then I'm off to speak with him, and we will see which of us is correct where business is concerned." The Celestial gives Redmond a head tilt that could be taken as a bow, casually ignores the men flanking him, and walks off in search of illicit employment. Down a ways, on the Standish side.

[DuckEggBlue Omeg...]

[marghos]

Martin follows him and lets the cove lead him in the pub, as they get closer Martin says "Gin is fine! I'll check this mercahdise and you could tell me some fresh news" and shrugs a little bit. In pub Marty stops to the doorsteps, checks the area quickly and after that, follows his partner to the table, sits and starts checkin this merchandise front of him. After tasting his gin he looks cove in his eyes "Ahhh good stuff!" and wipes his mouth with white handkerchief before he continues "So tell me something. Start talkin, loosen up your tongue" after that Martin smiles.

[Fresno Bob]

Bismarck shakes his head slightly.

"No."

He heads to the area waved to, and looks for Tom.

[Meriss]

As Han entered the warehouse his eyes adjusted to the dim light. It was a simple empty warehouse. What made it special was the fact that seated on a crude wooden throne in the middle of the boxes was a large heavy set man. From the scars and other marks this man had made a living with his fists. Benny Stenwick, "The Bruiser" lord and master of the London docks. Han of course did not fear the brute. He knew that The Bruiser was more puff than punch these days. The middle aged rough noticed the Easterner Well, looky here lads, my very best customer. He smiles and motions for Han to approach. Everything alright Mister Yan? Any complaints from Chinaland? The bottle of cheap gin in his hand and the cigar in his mouth reveals why the Bruiser is in such a good mood today.

---

The barman motions to the rear room. Fillin' up right quick, guv. Fancy a figgen, Tom said it's on 'im.

---

Thje portly man sighs and hands St. North a box wrapped in butchers paper. Best not open 'er up in 'ere mate. Lesse, whats to do? Ah I have it, You ever 'ear of a cove name a Brookes?

---

As each man enters the snug, the odors from the front part of the gattering seem to fall away as does much of the noise. It's simple room with a low table and about ten chairs. All in all it appears to kept in much better condition than the rest of the public house. The low burning gaslamps throw poor illumination around the room. The wooden floor creaks under foot.

[ZenZen]

Bags and bags of money...
Alexander Dorn could certainly imagine them.
And although he knew that Travis' imagination was rather ...'vivid', a quick mental approximation of his current funds made it painfully clear that a share of ...heaps and piles and...
I need that job!
The decision came swiftly. He might prefer working in his shop, inventing and constructing, eager customers queuing, admired by the public, his genius acknowledged by the scientific community, his inventions stupefying ...everyone, filling them with AWE!
But reality was different.
And his financial situation would become dire all too soon when the occasional repair jobs of ...simple contraptions ...these boring steam engines, clocks and watches remained his only source of income.
"Alright, let's give it a try, Mr. Bickle. I just need to get changed, but I'll be with you momentarily."
As Travis went into the backyard to fire up his steamwagon again, Alexander went upstairs, where he removed his coverall, reflecting:
Michael Street, he said...not the best part of London for sure. I'd better come prepared for... It occured to him that he had no idea about what was going on in the shadier districts. ...well, whatever I might be running into. I just need to pack accordingly.
Donning his discreetly armored vest and some clothes he considered not looking too well-off, he reached for his monocle, walking cane and a sturdy bag and went back downstairs to fill it with 2 of his tried portable devices.
This will come in handy just about anywhere ...and that, well I sure hope I don't need to activate that, but in case I'll prefer to have it with me.
Finished with his preparations Alexander closed his shop, climbed onto the steamwagon, asking:
"So, what's been going on around here lately?"
And that's all it took to spark a long oration, destination unknown, because Travis Bickle was a cornucopia of information, sometimes useful, often entertaining and always plentiful, so he'd provide the talking during their trip.
And that's the way both men were most comfortable with.

[marghos]

Why? Martin thinks and looks at box "Why not? Don't you want me to check the merchandice or what. I can handle ammunition" Martin handles box with cautious and doesn't take papers of f, yet. "So what this cove, Brookes never heard. What are we talking?" Martin stares straight to coves eyes and makes desision if coves story sounds solid and true.

[ Spoiler ]

Martin rollsl influence group (using negotiation) 2 + cha 4 + kinesics 3 = 9 die:
2, 1, 3, 5, 6, 1, 5, 4, 1 = 3 hits


So do Martin need judge intentions roll? Its 8 normally and with +3 kinesics = 11 die
2, 2, 4, 6, 1, 2, 4, 5 = 2 hits without kinesics and
2, 6, 3 = 1 hit from kinesics

[Fresno Bob]

Bismarck steps as lightly as he can on the creaking floor, not wanting to crash through it. He picks out a spot near the door and stands up, waiting for others to enter the room.

[DuckEggBlue Omeg...]

[Meriss]

The cove pales as St. North question his wares, and starts poking at the wrapping. "Blimey, mate you trying to bring the crushers down on us er sumat? You kin do that on yer own blinkin' time. I'll not be pinched. Iffin yah must know it's come straight from a cove what had em fall of a soldiers wagin" He mops his brow nervously.

He shifts in his seat. Thomas Brookes, the cracksman, mate? How long you bin in the Stink? E's done a fair number a pulls around the city. Ere, there, everywhere. Some coves er saying e's tha next Pierce.

[fistandantilus4....]

Spence walks in to the pub , checking his timepiece to confirm he made it by 7:30. It wouldn't do to be late to this sort of appointment, even if this 'Doubting Thomas' was. He put his umbrella into the stand as he walked in. Always was best to be prepared in London lately. Looking around the room, and feeling a bit out of place in his tweed suit and bowler hat, he thought maybe the umbrella made him stand out just a bit too much.

Best to get his over with I suppose

Spence strode over to the bar, what he hoped came across as confidently, and leaned against it with one elbow, trying to look like a "regular gent."

Good day Sir. Uh ... 'Oi'. I am looking for a Mr Thomas. Would you know where I can find him?

He smiled in his best "I belong here" smile.

[Critias]

[Fresno Bob]

Bismarck looks around the room, switching out the various lenses in his eyes and watching the assembled people transform into hazy orange shapes, and then the mirrored lenses that improve vision in darkness. He settles on these, and looks over the people assembled.

Whats that cove looking at? Never seen a machineman before? Heh.

"Guten abend.", he says to Arthur, raising his hand in greeting.

[marghos]

Martin sips his gin and sighs before continues "Ah, you meant Thomas Brookes." Who the hell this Brookes cove is, never heard of him? and lies back, still lookin cove in his eyes "Not long, you could say not long, but yes I have heard Thomas Brookes. I'll heard great deal of him but still you could fill some blanks." Martin stops inspecting this box and puts it to the table and left hand holds it while right hand points towards cove "So what about this Thomas Brookes? Dont play with me, my schedules were ruined beacause of you. So I have time to listen your tales or do you have something else for me?"

[DuckEggBlue Omeg...]

[Meriss]

The barman looked Spence, the square-rigged cove up and down. Lad, iffin yah can't vokker romany, don't. But Old Tom 'll be here in a few. Have a drink? Tom's settlin' up tonight."

---

The Bruiser smiled at the Chinese. "Ole what's 'is nuts, tell ye that did 'e?" He smiles and sips his gin. "Twern't me what the job is fer. Cove name a Brookes is goin' about roundin up some chaps fer a pull. Tain't likely up yer street but it's sumat ta do, till yer ship sets eh?" The heavy set fellow shifts and turns around, "Oi! Rat, get yer arse out 'ere! A small man approaches the Bruisers throne. His face reflects exactly why everyone calls him Rat. The beady eyes, the shifting mouth. Han has always half expected this particular man to start chewing on anything convenient. Rat, where was the Brookes cove getting his round up together? asks Bruiser. 'Es over on Micheal St. The Bull and Bear Number 14. Mr Stenwick whines the reedy voice of the man called Rat. There ya be Master Yan. Have a proper pull. And tell yer fellows over in Chinaland, Bruiser always keeps 'is word. Any questions ya ken ask Ratto 'ere He waves a hand dismissively. And turns back to his bottle.

---

The fat man shifted in his seat. It was now clear to St. North that the round man was afraid of him. "Look mate. Tom is gettin' up a pull. Prolly a fair sized pogue iffin yah ask me. Back in '68 'es the cove what pulled the Gren'ich payroll. An that was twenty grand. The round up is over on Micheal St. The Bull and Bear pub. Number 14 I fink. Now iffin yah don't mind guv, I gott be off er me other customers 'll be askin me why I'm late. the round cove makes a move to leave.

---

As Alexander gets into Bickle's steam wagon. The odd chap begins one of his convaluted stories. " I 'eard sumat kinda funny the offer day, guv. You know Lola Chantes? The frog chaunter? Yah well, this bloke was telling me she's bin dabbbin it up wif 'er sister

He pulls away from the curb with a roar and puff of steam, his voice carrying with conviction and passion....

"An, thats why the royal family needs a be trimmed. Here we are guv 14 Micheal St. Tell yah whut guv. Since I owes you a few quid on ole Huff n' Puff 'ere this un's on me." He helps the dwarf down from the cab. Be seeing ya guv. He pulls away from the bar.

[Critias]

"Any questions I have, I do not doubt, will be for Mr Brookes. Not you." The Rat was not only unpleasant to look upon, but the mewling sycophant was simply unpleasant to be around. Speaking to him left a bad taste in Han's mouth, but he didn't quite curl his lip as he dismissed the man. His attention returned to The Bruiser. "Michael Street, fourteen. The Bull and Bear. I will find it. And I will continue to spread the word of your...trustworthiness."

Han's head dips again in what passes for a bow, his glossy black hair -- pulled back in a tight braid that reached to the small of his back -- jumping and bouncing along his spine as he did so. He takes two steps backwards, turns and strides off into the infamous London fog.

He knew vaguely of the neighborhood, and knew it wasn't one of London's finer. He wasn't concerned, though. While he might respect a few that had clawed their way to positions of prominence, while he might show politeness towards them for the benefit of his Uncle's business, few people, few Western criminals, genuinely intimidated him. His silk-slippered carry him to Michael street quickly, hopping nimbly from cobble to cobble when possible -- a fool's errand, no one could keep their feet clean in his miserable place, but the Celestial was fastidious by nature -- to avoid puddles.

It is not long before he is outside the gaslit entrance to the disreputable Bull and Bear. He spares the rickety sign out front the barest of glance, spares the doorman no notice at all, and strides inside. His Elf-height and Chinese blood are at odds, some times, but the end result his that he's little taller than most Londoners; nevertheless, he must stoop a bit at the mantle to avoid a most ignoble lump on his forehead.

His eyes adjust instantly to the place's murky interior, of course, and it doesn't take him but a moment to pad his way towards the place's barman.

"I am looking for a Mr. Brookes." The request -- demand? -- comes with another polite little half-bow.

[ZenZen]

...astounding. Should these rumours really prove to be true, then this would indeed be a scandal of the likes we haven't had in decades. And with the involvement of nobility...but they wouldn't dare doing that, would they?...the effects on their reputation...the entire society could...unspeakable...and unlikely...

Slightly disturbed, Alexander Dorn got down from the steam wagon, still trying to puzzle it out.

...yet vigilance was never a sensible solution for anything...even Mr.Bickle wouldn't actually try...although, thinking about it in a certain state of mind, it does seem like a rational deduction...in a 'Travis' way of reasoning...
Feelings of doubt suddenly welling up inside him, he turned to his companion, calling out,
"Ah, Mr. Bic..." only to find him already steaming away down the street, turning a corner and gone.

"Nonsense! He wouldn't commit such a folly." The dwarf muttered, trying to reassure himself.

Remembering his business in this unpleasant part of town, he looked up to the taverns sign:
Right...'The Bull and Bear', now I just need to contact this Mr.Brookes...

Gripping his bag and cane tightly, he opened the door and took a determined step inside...
...to find his sensitive nose assaulted by a cloud of foul odour.
Nearly stumbling back onto the street, he tried to will the hideous olfactory input out of his mind while regaining his composure. And succeeded ...enough to quickly conduct his business here at least.

Stepping up to the bar, Alexander tried to get the pub owners' attention, which wasn't easy with a human-sized counter in a noisy place.
Eventually the barman turned to face him:

"Excuse me, sir. I wish to see Mr. Brookes. Could you point me in his direction please?"

[marghos]

"You may go!" Martin nods and waves his hand towards the door, when cove gets closer the door Martin continues in clear and sametime sharp voice "Next time be on time and talkin' bout time when this meetin' supposed to happen?" Martin nods again he'll remember me, thats for sure he smiled when cove ansvered and gave the meetin' time so Martin prepared to leave too.

Walkin out of pub Martin looks down the street Where the hell that place...ah now I remember Michael Street, fourteen. The Bull and Bear I've been there. I'll get there in no time. But Fran, o' my lovely sugarpie. What I'll tell you about this all...

Martin wrotes a short note explainin' something to his wife

[ Spoiler ]

Dear Fran my lovely wife, I love you so much.
I'm late and I know that but there is something I must do. Give this young lad few pence but no more than few downer. I'll be back soon as possible. Put the box to kitchen i'll handle it when I'm home.
Yours truly mr. Christopher Martin St.North

and stops some poor young chavy, and gives him note, the box and few pences "Here's note, a box and few donwer, deliver all of them to the Goldsmith road 28, ask St.North. On delivery you get few more downers. But don't fool around, i'll find you if i had"

Chavy looks Martin "Hell I'd done that for few flatch and puts his hand in the air. Martin looks down to chavy smiling and hands over both note and box. Oh, hell. What I'm doing. I'm late from my meet with my lovely wife and i'm going some mysterious meeting with mysterious chummers
Chavy takes the note and box, lookin Martin but after gettin' downer hes running fast. After this Martin looks after and takes coach on fly, after sitting in coach says Michael street, fourteen. The Bull and Bear.

Martin sits and watches the street from coach, payin' no attention to the coacher until they there. "Thats six quid said the coacher and Martin paid it.

Standin' front of the Bull and Bear pub Martin checks the surroundings before he walks in. Letting his eyes adjust the smoky and dark pub he checks the inside (includin' customers) and walks to the bartenter "mr. Brookes? Where can I find him?" words comes out in cold and sharp tone.

[Meriss]

As each man enters the pub the bar man shrugs and waves in the direction of the rear room. Around the back, fancy a gatter, or tightner? We've got pasties a comin' in a few. It's all on ole Tom.
I'll break 'is fingers if it ain't

[marghos]

Martin shakes his head "Gatter and make sure it's best you got! Not that watery one you normally serve!" and points to the rear room.
He stops in the doorstep before enters in the room, hand on the knife's handle under the jacket.

Man standin' in doorway is in his early twenties , he has black round glasses coverin' his eyes, thin face, no facehair, his posture is firm and steady. He wears pretty expencive tailormade suit under long leathery jacket. His right hand is under jacket and his head turns, maybe checkin the area, just a little before he enters the room.

His eyes adjust quickly to the dim lights so he sees well he checks everyone in room and starts in commandin voice (thats one thing what he learned in army) "Good day to all" he walks towards center of the room while continuin' "Mr. Brookes? I'm Martin St.North.", he stop in the center of the room waiting answer, but when there is no answer he nods to all (acting friendly but still distant and on guard).

Martin picks the golden pocket watch with left hand, checks the time and mutters something in low voice

[ Spoiler ]

If someone tries to hear and succeed then he hears this: Oh my god why I'm here with these coves and not home with my wife?

shakin' his head in disbelief, after this he continues "Does you know when this mr.Brookes will arrive?" Martin moves avay from the center of the room, he mingles with others, still keeping up his 'distant and somehow cold mask'.

[Fresno Bob]

Bismarck frowns when he recieves the reply in german, glad his gas mask hides the facial movement.

He knows German and he knows machines. Rotten limeys, his accent is horrible.

German:"Higher than anything you've seen, trust me."

As Martin stomps into the room, and announces himself, Bismarck looks over at him.

"Vhy? Is there somevere you'd rather be?", he asks, the mechanical whine in in his voice drowning out the tone of his voicebox.

[ludomastro]

Jacob enters the bar, looks around. Nods to the bartender when he thumbs to the back. He heads back to the back and looks around.

Evening all.

Interesting lot, these.

[Critias]

The man London's underbelly calls The Hand pads into the backroom, moving quietly on the balls of his slippered feet. His almond shaped eyes flick from man to man back here in the shadows and the smoke, but he says nothing. The Celestial elf sidesteps past the bulk of them, and contents himself to stand quietly in one corner, listening.