Evensong: . . . My wife. That’s how we become more then co-workers in the Foreign Office. I was pursued, and stopped by their townhouse as a distraction. Better them then me, right?
Without hesitation, they jumped in. My pursuers were soon no more. Dirae Erinyes saw me with my clothes bloody, my face torn. . .everything about me in the open. They could’ve taken anything they wanted from me at that moment. All Dirae Erinyes wanted was for me to come in for a nightcap and change of clothes.
In the game we all play, having someone who is willing to fight the world for you is rare. Someone willing to do it just because they love you is something rarer. And when that you is me. . .it was unimaginable.
Eli: I was being kept in a smaller jail-house in Ladybones Road because there was too many people in Newgate. They were awaiting permission to bring me to my sentencing where I’d likely dance at the end of the rope.
I had an associate smuggle in a suit, something like a lawyer would wear on business. I picked the lock to my cell and I just… walked out the front door. Nobody stopped me because the way I just kept walking made them think I was seeing a client or some such.
Good times, good times.
What is the most daring thing you’ve ever stolen? Figuratively or literally.
Zephyrmoth: There are… certain events you can feel before they happen- the kind of electric shock of change you seem to get every time you turn a corner down here. That’s how I remember Hong Kong. Sure, you might say what happened was justified- I was never a supporter of the mincing of Earth into a vast colonial meat pie of unknown derivation. I remember this one Polack, some sailor on the Oriental trade, who had some very insightful quote about it… something about noses. Nevermind that.
Of course, it was obvious we were going to take the brunt of the damage and the blame if this inevitable situation escalated, which of course, it did. However, I, among with a handful of others, none of those blank-faced penal types who would hold the line if the Queen herself charged at them with a bayonet, made arrangements- we all had connections to smugglers, bartenders, opium dealers, anyone who could get us on a boat… I remember the flames as I left. There were at least twenty privates under my command- most of them with a mental capacity more suited to bovine, but I could still hear their screams all the same. I knew then I had to get as far as way from my duty post as possible. I had an identity all ready to go by the time I reached Avernus- I was a badly scarred English colonist, seeking the unholy medicines of the Neath for my thankfully bandaged complexion. Of course, I underestimated the speed of a telegraph by far, but that’s another story entirely, and one I have slightly more of a bounty for. Waiter! Another glass of Greyfield’s!
Surprising? The Correspondence and the colours of the Neath. Mesmerising, inscrutable and inviting. I came down here to inquire about my brother’s death, but the many mysteries are what keep me down here.
Horrifying? People with a peculiar taste for flesh and the ease with murder. Death is not always permanent, but that fact seems to have a brutalizing effect on us. On me. I have killed and it was easy. I am horrified with myself. Sometimes.
Wonderful? Comradery. Especially between revolutionaries and urchins.
Might be a few signs missin’ from ta Bazaar. Might be a few souls and brass silver missin’ from ta Embassy. Not sayin’ I’m responsible for either hypothetical cases but if I was the thrill was worth it more than anyfink.
Only when they’re not usin’ their pouches like a new sauce-box. Though I tend to snub anyone that shorts me out a few echoes.
It would be pointless to reveal your secret identity, now would it not? I have many disguises. The only one that I can tell you without compromising myself is the alias Writing Owl, my nom de plume in Veilgarden. I write mystery penny dreadfuls and the occasional poetry under this alias. Just… do not go around announcing it, I do have some enthusiastic fans among the younger people in London, and some are a little too over enthusiastic.
Do you have a private method of transportation or do you rely on taxis?
Direa Erinyes: I have several! There are the velocipedes, and this quite spirited stallion, and the sedan chair that clayman go racing with. . .
Evensong: We also have landau. Which has yet to responsible for breaking the necks of any riders, passengers, or anyone else on the road.
In regards to the nom de plume-
Dirae Erinyes: That’s my wife’s work. My appearance is a bit hard to disguise.
What was your hardest case?
[quote=Shadowcthuhlu]Direa Erinyes: I have several! There are the velocipedes, and this quite spirited stallion, and the sedan chair that clayman go racing with. . .
Evensong: We also have landau. Which has yet to responsible for breaking the necks of any riders, passengers, or anyone else on the road.
In regards to the nom de plume-
Dirae Erinyes: That’s my wife’s work. My appearance is a bit hard to disguise.
What was your hardest case?[/quote]
Oooo, it has to be the Case of the Two Cats. I might turn that one to a penny dreadful, it was fun. The second hardest was my first investigation on the University, if only because the motives were so petty and infuriating that I had half a mind to kill both the murderer and the victim (again) at the end of the proceedings.
Now that I am in a detective mood, are you in good terms with the Honey Addled-Detective? Still a fan, despite his present state?
What is there to say? The old man is driftin’ off in ‘is own world most o’ ta time. Doesn’t mean tha spark is gone though.
Reminds me, there’s alot of mysteries in the Neath. Anyfink out thar you wish you hadn’t solved?
[quote=Amelia Syrus]Reminds me, there’s alot of mysteries in the Neath. Anyfink out thar you wish you hadn’t solved?[/quote]A great many, I assure you. The tale of the Missing Comtessa appears to be fairly common knowledge at this point in time, but that does not make her fate any less… unnerving. The reason behind the taste for eyes that lurks within all sorrow spiders was also quite a disturbing discovery, though that may have as much to do with the fact that I encountered a Spider Council for the very first time shortly afterwards as it does with the secret itself. The encounter left an impression. The source of the peculiar skulls that appear in the Forgotten Quarter too lurks in the back of my mind, squatting there like a persistent and dire promise.
Still, the regret is a mental… I wouldn’t say deficiency. To call my regret a mental deficiency would be an insult to the emotion itself and the event that brought it about. Rather, stumbling block. A hazard inherent within my character through which I endeavour to persevere. Squeamishness has always struck me as poor recompense for the secrets I have been entrusted with, willingly or otherwise.
Now, something I have been wondering for some time: What exactly is rostygold? Is it a specific type of metal, or is it an alloy of variable components with its moniker derived from having been minted specifically to serve as payment for the letting of blood, or is it something else entirely?
Really like ta hear yourself talk there but fine. Don’t fink anyone in ta Neath could answer all o’ your questions. Least not the usual vagabounds. Hard not ta have rostygold ifn your in that business too. It’s why it’s associated with payment o’ blood. Usually given when ya do huntin’ work or more higher up in ta chain. But you kno tha already I’m sure. As for what it’s made from… who knows but the Masters probably minted ta stuff themselves with somefink in mind than blood lettin’.
…
Actually you might be on ta somefink, egghead. There’s a lot o’ currency in ta Neath. But surface currency still shows up ‘ere. Does everyone just stash what they had before goin’ below or is there some hidden chain o’ the stuff floatin’ around?
Given that the Bazaar puts “Surface currency” under “Contraband”, on pair with London street signs, I suppose the second option is the more likely. All Surface currency I have were given to me as payment, and I still have not decided if I give them to the Constables for a reward or if I keep it for a hypotetical return to Surface that I may or may not do in the future.
Yes, when I was renovating my townhouse. Several showed up on my door and suggested I could make a name for myself by taking them in. Of course, they expected a large number of echos for "embeence", said that proper dirty cheeks were expensive to maintain. The nerve of them! I chased them right off.
For weeks afterward there was an unholy thumping on my roof at all hours. Turns out they rearranged rope bridges to divert half the messengers in London across the top of my house. I tried to stop them and ended up buried in useless letters. Things shifted back in time, as they always do.
What is your favorite pleasure of the Neath that you could never obtain on the surface?
“The Glass magacians. I was close at first, saw truth in their tricks. I thought the Shroud would offer the same. I was mistaken. The dead still remain out of reach.”
Glim, jade, moon pearls, of all the things we use as currency, what is your favorite?
Oh, but you have to fumble around your head for them. So many of them that wicked Penstock man asked, and I had to scrape even the most grimy and cavernous reaches of my mind to please him. But I did. Oh, I did, and he gave me the Lease. To Her. And was it worth it! Now I can be always close to Her, even when I sleep. Especially when I sleep. So magnificent are her spires, so undulating her walls… One day she will surely come to love me as I love her. Oh yes, she will…
Ahem. Excuse me, I fear I got a bit carried away there. Kind soul, tell me, which surface city would you bring here to experience the Neathy marvels had you only the power?
None. You can’t tell me thars a place thas not a right pile o’ garbage. Neaths ta same but at least it’s got some charm to it.
So I’ve been finking, seems like thars a lot of aunts in the Neath and plenty o’ blokes who are right tossed bout it too. Seems blooming strange what with this place bein underground and such. But 'ow do you fink thars so many aunts?