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Rown

Friendly Hunter

PostPosted: Tue May 11, 2010 10:56 pm


"Around anyone who had plague? No, I...."

Elsie had indeed been around people who had plague, more specifically people who had passed away from it. Admitting that was basically incriminating herself in front of others and grave robbing was a crime punishable by a lot worse than the young woman was willing to bet on. If she got caught, Thomas would be caught. Perhaps it would be best of her to just say that she happened upon some items that may have been worn by plagued victims?

She chose to just think of the best lie possible.

"I work as a seamstress, so it's possible that I came into contact with someone who had the plague. I worked through many families for quite some time, and I always did have this cup with me when I went. As a lowly worker I often wasn't allowed to drink from their fine sets of cups, so I brought my own with me. I could drink that way, so. . . .

God, she hoped that sounded good to them because it sounded like utter bull to her. Would she really be able to tell them that she kept ashes in this cup? Her son's ashes?! That made her look...so bizarre. So ridiculous.

"Why are you asking? Do you...think I could be infected with plague?"

The last words were all but a whisper, Elsie not wanting to bring fear into the people around her. A plagued victim was a marked victim, and she likely would be grapeshot before the end of the day.
PostPosted: Wed May 19, 2010 7:59 pm


A lie-- it was simply a lie.

The best part about lies, Adal thought, was the way people inferred how others told the truth -- it was how they created lies; there was a fine line between discreet untruths and excuses, and whatever excuse he did hear was utterly questionable.

With a quick flick of his finger, he pointed toward the cup the woman held in her hands.

"Ah, no. Your cup, however; very much so."

It was a curse. Adal was a curse upon all simple explanation-- Georgie muttered a small "Get on with it" and looked apologetically to the woman.

Poetry-- Adal took everything in the form of drama, and every gesture and word that escaped him was for the sake of a greater comedy -- to be as dramatic and convoluted as possible, Georgie concluded, was his brother's goal. He blamed the books and the bohemian culture Adal buried himself under for this, as Georgie came from nay privileged nor learned background.


Adal paused to think, taking large strides to side with his brother. He dipped his head in greeting, taking off his hat in the process, pale hands wrapped around its rim. It was information, after all, of a Plague -- something of noteworthy mention to the Good Doctor, though the mysterious man must have known of it already.

"My humble apologies, madame, I've forgotten my manners. Before my brother and I accept your humble invitation to a drink, I must ask -- what is your name?"

Rookeries
Vice Captain


Rown

Friendly Hunter

PostPosted: Wed May 19, 2010 10:15 pm


Elsie had all but blanched when the boy called her a liar, and her eyes flicked to the left for a moment as though she were trying to come up with something else to respond with. Thankfully the young man didn't seem like he was going to press onward and instead pushed the claim of plague to the cup in her hands - the item was infected? How was that even possible?

She dared not ask, such a thing seemed ridiculous even for the uncommon events that seemed to be grasping the whole of the world they lived in. Items coming about with plague, turning into creatures of myth - she had long heard those stories while standing on the streets. Gossip got people through the day when there was no visible hope, and it was gossip that helped warn people of things when it was laced with the finest bits of truth.

"My...my name? Elsie Crane, though given the circumstances of our meeting you may call me Elsie. May I have the pleasure of knowing yours as well?"

Knowing their names would allow Elsie to check up on them. Those who lived on these streets knew ways to find things about those who did not, and it was through her connects that Elsie often found herself standing well in status. She wasn't top dog of course, she wasn't even in that high of a ring, but she at least could find someone whose tongue was always eased into chatter with a few smooth shillings in an open palm.

"Though as much as I would enjoy a drink, I do seem to think the hour is later than I had originally thought. I may have to postpone my invitation for a sit-down drink, as much as it pains me to so rudely rescind an extended offer. If it is something we can get a cart then I will still hold my plans out to you."
PostPosted: Wed May 19, 2010 10:31 pm


"It's quite a pleasure." Adal straightened, pointing his hat to himself then to his mousy brother, "My name is Adal Malt, and this here is my brother, Georgie Malt."

"Ah-- nice to meet you, Miss Crane." Brows narrowed, Adal's freckled older brother nudged his hat away, half-struggling between great irritation and embarrassment. "Weren't you hiding from me just a minute ago?"

"Not in front of the good Miss, brother mine. You should learn to be polite."

But of course, it was in his younger brother's will to turn the tables on his elder's unfortunate spirit; time and time again Georgie was cornered into the depths of his mind to a place of deep, deep exasperation.

At mind of the lady in front of them, Georgie sucked in his breath and bit his lower lip in a struggle not to give off an impatient sigh, though aimed at his brother. It was courtesy for him to treat a lady of whatever class politely; it seemed right and lawful, as the mess cooks and gentle workers of the workhouse in which he was born were all women themselves.

"We-- understand, Miss Crane." Georgie looked to the narrowing streets of the Imisese marketplace, scratching the ends of his ears. "I do suppose you're busy, we are too."

"But the Plague--"

"--But Miss, Adal and I would like to talk to you about your cup. My little brother won't take it, but it'll do you good to know about it -- of the Plagues. Adal here is one himself."

Rookeries
Vice Captain


Rown

Friendly Hunter

PostPosted: Wed May 19, 2010 10:42 pm


". . . so talk of such creatures is true then? Inhuman beings born of the plague and walking amongst the rest of us wrapped in flesh?"

There was fear in her voice, clinging to each word she spoke. She took a step back subconsciously, her shoe making a hollow clack on the pavement. such creatures were to exist only in the tales! They would not come to such a place as this in Isimus, they would not appear before the lowly woman known as Elsie Crane! Also, what is it that he had said? The cup she held in her hands as such a precious treasure...was something they wanted to speak about? Why? Was it so wrong of her to have stored Jesse's ashes in it for so long?!

"I...I do not know if I can continue to be seen with you. I have something of an ill repute about my as it is and knowing that I make my day fellows with a youth and an unholy creature would serve me no well, even if you are both polite and clearly intending me no harm. Please, I wish you no ill when I ask they you either state your business quickly now or leave me be."

Her hands tightened around the cup without even thinking, funny how only moments earlier she had been creating thoughts of fear at the object. No matter what the cause or whatever it was she would still treasure it.
PostPosted: Wed May 19, 2010 11:08 pm


"Ah--"

Inhuman creatures...

Both boys have heard of the state of rumors before -- when Adal was beneath hooded caps as a Locos or hidden beneath the layers of jackets during the years as a Servos, he'd heard the raw emotions set forth by the lower class on the state of Plagues. He was numb to the emotion of shock, having heard it since the ripeness of his earlier years. Many times, when his peculiar swirled eyes came into light by urchins on the street, crude jokes and mean fights had started.

As Elsie urged them to leave, Georgie was the more shocked of the two -- was it true, that she was urging them to leave? Was she aware, then, of Adal's state as a Locos?

No, of course not -- he was a Plague, born of a painful Death writhe with bubos and sorrows.

Adal's face, once lit with great whimsy and comedy in front of the frail seamstress, dulled with a sense of understanding. With a bow of his head, he put his hat back on and nodded toward Georgie.

"Surely, Miss Crane. Hear us yet, however; your cup, there. It smells of Plague, it will become a Plague -- I urge you to treat it well."

"Adal--"

"Ah, of course, not for what it will become. Not for you, at least, Miss Crane. But this cup of yours, despite what people may say about your status on this street -- it'll protect you, if you look for protection in the right places. It's quite valuable, if you come to understand the value of a Plague."

Silence. Adal paused, briefly to Elsie with his swirled eyes; smiling once again, he tapped Georgie's arm and pressed forward, brushing against the tip of one of Elsie's shoulders. Without so much as a word, Georgie resumed his usual state of following after his flaxen brother with an expression of great worry.

With his back turned, Adal shouted one last thing, blending in amidst the Imisese crowd once again;

"Fret not, Miss Crane! We'll have a drink with you yet."

Rookeries
Vice Captain


Rown

Friendly Hunter

PostPosted: Wed May 19, 2010 11:25 pm


As the two boys departed Elsie could not help but feel a mixture of fear and hope seize inside her breast, her heart pounding with the strange concoction of emotions that came about at the parting words 'Adal' had left.

Her cup would protect her if she knew to use him well? The cup would actually become something and become valuable? She could hardly believe such things to be true, but if...if one of its own kind had spoken then surely it would not lie to her? The young man - odd how she could still call him that - had been nothing but civil to her and it was almost her duty to return such kindness with her own belief.

Perhaps the next time they all gathered together once more she would have the "something" that he spoke of, the "something" that he could further explain to her once her views were no longer jaded and she was seeing with a mind unclouded. Perhaps also then she could apologize for what she had said, for it was not her place to be....well. That would have to be another day entirely, they were long out of her sight, and it was with a smile that she waved at their backs, knowing her foolishness had to have a limit.
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