 Eglantine-Fox Posts: 872
8/14/2016
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Wow. Welcome to the killing-for-Nemesis club, Amelia! (Awesome writing, that.)
-- Eglantine Fox, the charming and androgynous Correspondent, teetering between hobbies of seduction and self-destruction.
Siobhan O'Malley, Irish patriot (or 'bl__dy Fenian' if you're impolite).
Isidore Day, an up-and-coming London gentleman. All allegations of wrongdoing are categorically denied.
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 Shadowcthuhlu Posts: 1557
8/15/2016
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Dirae Erinyes is very proud of you, even if they don't know it yet.
-- https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
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 Amelia Syrus Posts: 626
8/15/2016
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Day XX:
The devils applauded my act. Confused I turned back and they offered nothing but grins. Hungry grins.
I wondered if that would be my fate one day.
Day XX:
Maybe I already am. How curious.
Day XX:
All stones are turned. I don’t know what else is left here. But it feels far too simple.
–
There’s a silent exchange between Rattus Faber and thief as they read the last passage. The two look at the pages with wonder before looking to each other anew.
“So, this is why you picked up writing a journal as of late? I can’t say I like what I’m seeing here. I knew going out there wouldn’t be easy. I knew and wanted to come with you. I… can see why ya made me stay here now.”
Amelia nods and turns the page. There’s nothing else left but there’s signs of ripped pages from the back. All of the journals she returned with show the same.
“What are you goin’ to do now? This seems like the end of the line to me.”
“They’re still out there. He’s still out there. We both know he’s still out there. HE’S THE-” Amelia inhales deeply, trying to catch herself. It takes her some time before she ever speaks again with confidence. “We can’t keep ignoring tha coincidences. Thar be too many o’ them ‘n wha ya call tha last line be a new start. ‘Nother hired hand means thar be more too.”
“If ya say so,” he comments. “I still think you should stop, lass. This ghost hunt be draining more than your health lately.”
“Not when I kno he be lookin’ fer a fresh blood. I won’t stop til I kno he be six feet under.”
There’s a twitch of a nose before the rat lowers himself from the book. He looks to her, beady eyes full of concerned and says one thing before leaving Amelia’s side.
“And how do you know it’s not you?”
-- Amelia Syrus: A Drunken Thief For Hire.
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 Amelia Syrus Posts: 626
8/17/2016
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[ Since the event has been pushed forward and I've decided to have Amelia be post- Great Catch, I'll be attempting to post daily to finish this. The story itself has been finished for about 2 weeks now but I wanted to trickle it in here as to not over saturate the forums. Also as some of you have already noticed, this is related to Ambition: Nemesis. But from here on out, it's going to deviate from that and focus more on what I've had in mind for Amelia's story. ] ---
Day ???:
Although the envelope carried names, I did not recognize the one name I sought after. It pushes me back to the beginning. As unfortunate as this maybe I’m certain the information itself is not without some uses.
I’m sure some from Wilmot would appreciate their ears being scratched.
Day ???:
I’ve hit a strange stall. Nothing new from Wilmot. It is nothing but the same cycle of hushed secrets. Though I’m not blind to a distinct pattern in play. Spider’s targets, though erratic are always the same. Rares with illegal business, lower hands with ties to more serious ones, those who shaped a changing tide in society, ties with the Masters, a widow, and so much more. It’s always the same if not changed with slight differences and different targets.
It almost mimics what happened on the surface.
Such a telling sign. Yet it’s my last connection in this odd puzzle. It’s too easy. Far too easy to chase after.
Only one in my position could assume it’s a clear trap. One I can only hope to assume is not made by Spider too. If I cannot find any alternative lines in this strange web, I may have to take the bait to lure my pray out. It maybe the only option left.
Day ???:
I miss her. I’ve felt it before but it feels almost trivial now. I feel myself slipping in this maddening dance of a hunt. The greatest catch is so close at hand yet so far away. Constantly. Ebbing and pulling yet drifting ever more.
I’m sure he planned it that way.
Day ???:
My choices are slimming more each day. Everything I seek feels like a hair away but still gone. Everything is gone in this damnable place. Even now it feels as if I have truly met a dead end. But I need to keep pushing. I know it can’t be true.
There’s still one option left. The one I have ignored for so long. I know nothing good can ever come of it but what choice do I have left?
-- Amelia Syrus: A Drunken Thief For Hire.
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 Amelia Syrus Posts: 626
8/18/2016
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Bloodied knuckles and a scowl. Amelia shows both as a gift as she tosses the goon to the man’s feet. There’s a cry between them about their gut. She looks up before slamming her foot down on the crony’s hand. There’s a sharp scream that echoes forth and silences everyone around the salon immediately. “Bloody hell,” she sighs out. She picks them up by their cuff and lifts them. “I’ve combed frough Zee ‘n had every part o’ me bitten. This be no more than a bee sting yet ye be hollering like a babe.” She lets go of the sod and the mass of flesh whimpers trying their best to keep silent. “Aye, thar we go. A fast learner.”
Her gaze looks up. Pungent. Stiff.
Silence.
“Yer a hard fellow ta crack, eh? Fought as much ‘fore with yer targets but naught feelin’ all high ‘n mighty now tha yer thunder be gone.”
More silence.
“Should I list some o’ tha unsavory bits o’ yer work? Some o’ these blokes-” She looks down at the goon. “Might benefit from what be ‘ere ‘n known.”
There’s a knife pulled out but Amelia raises her hand and laughs. “Aye, do tha. I didn’t come ‘ere wiffout some support. I gots 25 outside who were told tha if’n I die than assume it be a new war ‘gainst tha Union. Took some convincin’ but tha lot believe me ta be someone higher up from tha chain ye be tuggin. Sure thay may naught be wantin’ tha head o’ someone causin’ a ruckus over me own. But is tha a risk ye willin’ ta take?” She looks and waits, hoping her bluff sinks in. Slowly the knife becomes concealed anew as the figure steps out of the shadows. A rather meek looking chap is seen in the dim lighting.
“What do you want?”
-- Amelia Syrus: A Drunken Thief For Hire.
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 Amelia Syrus Posts: 626
8/19/2016
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There’s a long silence that drifts between the Rattus Faber and the thief. Every now and then both want to say something but they stop, look over to the map and then the silence continues. It’s not until the candle wax is melted half way that Chief breaches the silence with an opinion. “This is bloody stupid,” he starts. “Ya don’t even know this is true. We combed frough that place before, we know there’s nothing there, and now some face fer an assassin tells ya that it were just a farce for something underground?” He goes over to the X marked on the map and taps his foot on the spot. “Ya go thar and you’ll die. It’ll be your grave.”
On any other day Amelia would fervently disagree with her partner, shout that he was wrong and that there is a third option. One unseen by them both. But she contemplates his words before a single nod is seen. “Aye,” she says slowly. “We both kne tis would happen.”
The rat looks at her curiously until it clicks into his mind what exactly she’s saying. “But then that means-” “Aye,” she nods.
“That’s crazy. Why would he-”
“I don’t kno,” she interrupts again. “But I’m naught sittin’ by ‘n assumin tha best o’ it.”
“Ya do know what this means, right?” He questions. “Everything ya fought before were wrong yet you’re goin’ with this? You’re waltzing in knowing tis be naught on yer terms.”
“I wanted answers from ta start, Chief. Ya kno tha,” she sighs deeply. “I’m naught askin’ fer a miracle ‘ere ‘n even I can see how bloomin’ daft tis be. Look at it.” She points to the map. “If we believe tis ta be true than what thay haff long ago be gone fer ages. So thas somefing tha were true. But than why keep it guarded ‘n full o’ blues? N tis-” She points to another side of the map. “Spider were somefing at tha start but now it’s gettin crazed. Rumors be sayin’ tha assassins been losin’ tha favors o’ hired hands left ‘n right.”
“It confirms yer suspicions. But that alone be dangerous and you’re still going?”
“Aye. I need ta kno why, Chief.” She stares at the Rattus Faber and she sighs deeply. “Stay ‘ere, flock off ta ‘nother, I don mind just don follow me fer tis.”
He looks at her before shaking his head. “Fer yer sake, I hope ya be right. I hope it be as easy as ya think it will. Cause grave or none it be a bloody daft thing ta expect but I won’t stop ya.” He says no more and leaves the table.
-- Amelia Syrus: A Drunken Thief For Hire.
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 Amelia Syrus Posts: 626
8/19/2016
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The secured manor. It seemed odd after such an assumed failed heist before. But after hearing the truth, hearing that there had been a concealed passageway here, Amelia finds herself back at this place. Chief however did not join her. Fed up with this maddening hunt, Amelia found herself aggravated but alone. She has no other options left now but this.
She watches the constables movements and slips by unseen. Her breath is held as she moves swiftly through the halls. Since her last venture, there had been more constables roaming about. But her mental memory of the place becomes her only saving grace. So many rooms and vents are used to her advantage to keep out of sight until she’s in the basement again.
Five locks fall, one by one in slow succession before the door is open. The sight is the same as before. Empty. Bare of anything important but a box and a mirror. If she wasn’t given the tip before she would leave this empty place again.
But she steps in further, allowing the door to be left cracked open behind her as she sweeps about the room. The box seems the same as before and turning it over reveals nothing for once. There should be a rather large cache of surface silk here and maybe there had been before. But she has a feeling this room is here for show.
For show...
The idea dawns on her rather sharply as she stands in thought. Had that cache long been gone before she ever heard about it? Was it always for show? Had she been the one prayed upon? The longer she thinks about it, the more she sees the connection with dread. The immense amount of control to have for such a show. She questions idly as a shadow looms in view in the mirror. She catches the figure grow from the corner of her eyes and turns quickly before-
Everything turns black.
-- Amelia Syrus: A Drunken Thief For Hire.
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 Kukapetal Posts: 1449
8/20/2016
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OMG....
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 Amelia Syrus Posts: 626
8/20/2016
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Day ???:
Sometimes I truly do question my memories. But especially with you, my sweet beloved. You had been my light, my eyes, and soul. Yet all of that was taken away from me. An ember snuffed out from my light and all I wanted was for it to return.
~
There’s a dazed confusion that sets in as Amelia opens her eyes. How long had she been out? She tries to focus on the room slowly, the light source closest to her face messing with her. But she tries again and eases herself into this rather bizarrely lit room. Candles upon candles seemed strewn about on the floor with no end in sight. Somewhere beyond there seemed to be someone far off in the distance.
She tries to move and much to her annoyance, she can feel herself bound in place. More movement and she feels as if nothing concealed has been taken from her. At least from where she sits, she feels her blade rest within her boot. An odd thing that and she tries to worm her way to reach-
There’s a turn from the distant figure before they move away, stepping closer to where she’s forced to sit on the floor. Amelia is forced to stop, sit still and view this figure come closer. Until finally she sees that familiar mop of brunette hair in clear view. One she had hoped had died long ago.
“I always knew you were persistent. But to take the bait so easily...” He bends down and a rather condescending smirk is plastered on his features. “I thought better from you, Amelia.”
“’N I weren’t daft ‘nough ta fink ye died wiff tha rest o’ em, Shanks,” she scowls. “Would haff been a nice retirement gift fer me if’n ya did. But here we be disappointin’ each otha like always.”
“Drop the accent, the Brass Reds are dead and you have no need to cover yourself in my presence.” His voice is sharp, commanding and wild in a quick second.
Amelia doesn’t say anything but narrows her eyes at him.
“I would have killed you,” he continues. “I had far too many opportunities to do so. But do you know why I spared you?” He leans down. “I don’t loathe you. As much as your mouth is tied with venom, I know how valuable you can be. But you’re wasting your talents so much. Theft upon theft without a single alliance? You could become so much stronger than on your own. Like I have.”
He gets closer to her. “You can join me for a great cause. All you have to say is yes.”
-- Amelia Syrus: A Drunken Thief For Hire.
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 Amelia Syrus Posts: 626
8/21/2016
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Sweet rose of my life, I know you were capable of wrongs. I know of your thorns. But I still stayed by your side and allowed those sharp barbs to tear away at flesh. The blood seemed nothing to your sweetness. Ever bright in what I saw as darkness within my life. How I yearned for you like a moth to a flame.
~
Amelia spits on the face of her capture without a second thought. “Shut your mouth box,” she says pungently. “Just kill me instead of making me indulge in your insufferable drivel.”
“That’s the Amelia I know. Cold, calculating, fake-” Shanks says rather pungently as he wipes the spittle from his face. “You always did love to take things head on instead of seeing the great picture.” His eyes narrow and he looks disgusted at her. “Wasting so much...” His foot is raised but he holds it there, close to Amelia’s abdomen. For a moment it seems he is very prepared to kick her face in. But he stays and studies her features carefully before lowering his foot.
“I never understood that about you,” he continues. “But with her I can see why. All of those stories... I thought I had been terrible. Just doing what I could for the fettered geezer. But you both were such busy bees. Breaking every shackle along the way until you burned the bridge.” His voice raises towards the end and there’s a rather crazed look in his eyes.
“She sold so much to see her father’s legacy end. She used so many people to ensure it. You were used, Amelia. Can’t you see that? We were all doped in this grand scheme. The Greatest Play among players and you followed through. But she was the best, groomed from the start and yet she wanted to end it. Halt such a game. From you. From anyone,” he almost hisses out. “Do you not see this? You were set to die, we all were Amelia. They used us all until they saw no more use in us. But I chose to take such a fate by the reign. I sold them out to the power they craved and took it for myself. You could have this stability too you know? From the greatest in the Game, the Masters, from anyone yet you chose no side even from acquaintances.” He looks inquisitively at her, his smirk fading and seeming broken. “Why did you ever choose her over me?”
-- Amelia Syrus: A Drunken Thief For Hire.
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 Amelia Syrus Posts: 626
8/22/2016
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Oh how the blood rain deep underneath your feet. Collected, cold, present ever more. But I wanted to sweep you away from it all. We wanted to run away and make our own path. How it was turned from us. Now I carry your sins, thorns at my feet alone in the hopes to take it with me far below. Far beyond light and darkness where no man or beast can claim them. Where we can sleep ever more without worry. Together.
~
Amelia laughs, hard and genuine at the man before her. “Aye fought.... I truly thought I was up against something frightening. Maybe I’ve changed more than I thought but I feel like I’m up against a boogieman now. You’re such a shell of what you used to be, Shanks.”
“Don’t jest, I could kill you-”
A snap is heard before a knife is embedded into a chest. A rather old one by the look of the hilt and seeping with an odd substance. There’s burned rope near her but it gets ignored for a moment. She watches his features, sees the shock melt away to a crazed smile before a shaky finger points to himself. Than rather quickly he collapses.
Curious, Amelia unbinds the rope at her feet before turning the corpse and patting it down. Within a breast pocket is an envelope with a letter. A rather long one detailing the Brass’ business, how they conducted illegal trade to Neath, how most of their stock is gone now, how Shanks used that as a way to win favors with the Masters and more. All of it culminating to a lose of power, losing it further from “rising stars” and slowly teetering more when he heard of her descent to the Neath. From there it goes from reasoning to crazed obsession and it ends with insane dribble. Almost the same she heard just now.
She heaves a long sigh as she looks at the parchment in her hands. There’s a lot she could do with the information. A lot of people would want it if simply for knowing where and how someone could turn such a huge cache of silk so easily. But she looks at the document and does the one thing she feels true to herself. She burns it.
She watches it burn for a moment, her eyes catching the flames and wondering ever more of what has been gained and lost on this maddening quest. Of whom she thought haunted her dreams. A long drawn silence in a dreary, lit room underground. Then slowly she lowers the flame of the envelope to the corpse.
The flames lick hungrily at the corpse, eating the rest of the document before spreading around the body. Once the whole corpse is consumed she turns away, leaving the knife embedded there and not wanting to see the large bonfire she created any longer. She moves northward, padding her hand against the wall to find an exit. Slowly and carefully prodding her foot away from candles. But a small squeak alerts her and she starts feeling about for the source. The squeaks get louder until she finds a rather well dressed rat just behind an open doorway.
The two stare at each other in the dim lighting and laugh.
-- Amelia Syrus: A Drunken Thief For Hire.
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