As you made your way outside with Anne in tow you scooped the tattered remains of her robe from the table, figuring that it would do for a makeshift cloth. As you reached for your machete you paused, you hadn't even noticed it was gone until now.
"I... tossed it into the fireplace last night. I was worried that... You would use it on me again this morning after you recovered. I'm sorry." Came Anne's voice from behind you as you heard her voice choke up with emotion. She was feeling a mixture of apprehension and fear right now, she was clearly ill at ease with that weapon given how the heavy blade had been an object of her torment.
"Would you fetch it for me please, so I may cut a usable amount of cloth from this garment, to make removing that mark on your forehead easier?" You asked, doing your best to tear down the seams of the garment as you listened to the sound of footsteps behind you. You had managed to tear the seams on both sides as Anne returned with your weapon, small traces of soot and dust on it confirming her story.
Her fingers were black from fishing the weapon out of the fireplace, from sweeping them over the sheath as she tried to clean the worst of it off. As you took the weapon from her and started drawing it she stepped back, failing to hide her fear now that you were face to face, allowing you to see it clearly etched across her features.
"Would you feel safer about me if I was to entrust you with this weapon?" You asked as you carefully cut a large strip of cloth from the robe. Her voice caught in her throat as she nodded, clearly afraid to say that she wanted this out of your hands. You gave a soft sigh as you sheathed the blade once more, holding it out to Anne as you watched her timidly reach out to take it from you.
It was like watching a child who wanted something, but didn't want to take it incase they would get into trouble for it. As her hands closed about it and yours released it she quickly clutched it to her chest, her expression changing from one of worry to one that almost childishly said
It's mine. "See, nothing to worry about." you stated, smiling reassuringly as you held out the strip of cloth for her next, before moving over to the steps of the building, settling down as your hands straightened out your attire.
"I have a few questions that I would like answers to if it is possible, about the things that come out at night, the clockworkers and the enlightened." came your words as you watched her dip the cloth into the water before her, a brief scowl crossing her features as she looked up at you, as she folded the cloth over and squeezed excess water from it.
"I cannot promise that I will answer any further questions about the enlightened. The others I will do my best to, however." Came her response as she started to scrub at the mark on her forehead, steadily washing away that red pigmentation.
You could feel the emotion that was her namesake, anxiety exuded from her as she heard the mention of the enlightened. You could feel a twinge of guilt once more unwelcomely invading your thoughts, as her reaction once more reinforced why you were doing this in your mind.
You were going to find a way to provide her safety by diplomacy if possible or by force if all else failed. You weren't sure how you could accomplish such a feat as destroying an entire order of immortals just yet, though you were certain you would find a way if it truely came down to that. "What do you know about the things that go bump in the night?" You asked, pausing ever so briefly before you continued, adding further substance to that question to ensure that you would hear what you wanted to know. "I need to know their origins, their appearances and what makes them so special, and if there's more that I should worry about beyond the Vultures, The Banshee's, The Rippers-"
"Ripper. Singular."
"Right, The Ripper, The Scarecrows and the river monster that you were hunting when we met." You paused, trying to recall if there was more than this that you had heard about. You knew that there was the Clockworkers and their mechanical men, but that was something you'd ask about after this.
"Okay... So..." She started, pausing for a brief moment as she scrubbed at her face, before dipping the cloth back into the barrel. "Vultures are corrupted birds, not very pleasent tasting, we suspect that they're creations of mad scientists. Before we had a Vulture problem, we had a pigeon problem. Now we do not. " She paused, wringing out the cloth before mopping at her face with it.
"There's still some colour left behind."
A sigh was followed by a splash as she dropped the cloth into the water and started cleaning it out, ready to continue cleaning away her mark. "Banshee's have a horrible scream that can cause disorientation, though it's not like the scream of legend that kills a man. It's more the part where they eat you alive that does it. They don't taste great either, and they look vaguely human that doesn't sit well with some of the order when they're what we're provided to eat.
A brief moment was spent scrubbing her forehead before she looked up at you, a brief shake of your head eliciting another sigh from her. "I think my skin's stained with it. We have pigmentation applied for it daily, as one of the rites of faith." she muttered, leaving the cloth on the edge of the barrel as she leaned against it, gazing across the space between the two of you.
"Nobody knows what the Ripper is, what it looks like, if it really exists. It's the name given to whatever murdered a bunch of whores initially, though it still crops up to kill this person or that with seemingly no rhyme nor reason to its victims. People blame it on us, naturally." She smiled slightly, shifting to rest her elbows on the edge of the barrel casually as she looked over it at you.
"The river creature that you saw was just a corrupted animal, you get a lot of those where alchemists and scientists are involved. We technically do the city a service by hunting them down and disposing of them, but naturally, everyone hates us and thinks we made them in the first place. I wouldn't try eating any of them, by the way. Some of them are fatally toxic to a mortal, and will cause quite some discomfort to an immortal such as yourself."
It was clear from her expression that there was little else that she considered signifigant about this that she felt she should mention to you.
"There's always corrupted people who survived eating tainted creatures, experiements that escaped that look like some monsters from mythology.. They're all pretty much just a source of food in the orders eyes." She paused, tilting her head slightly. "You mentioned scarecrows. Are they the name you give the more wirey corrupted people?" She asked, clearly unaware of what you had encountered in the outskirts of the city.
"No, literal scarecrows. One... One physically consumed a small man with rat like features that visited me in my sleep." you responded, feeling a sense of uncertainty in the pit of your stomach. You didn't like recalling this experience as it was one that you couldn't quite understand. You understood mechanical men where complex assemblies of pistons and gears with a clockwork mind. You understood that tainted creatures were experiements gone wrong and mutants, yet you had no idea how a thing made of straw could consume that small man.
"That's the first i've ever heard of such a thing, and i've never heard of a man like that either."
"I was afraid you'd say that."
"I'm going to cut this stain from my forehead. Do you think you could give me a little privacy while I do so?"
You cringed slightly at that request, you knew that she would regenerate that lost flesh quickly enough yet you still find the concept of her mutiliating herself to be distasteful in a sense. You dusted yourself off as you stood, walking back inside the building before leaning against the wall immediately beside the door.
You lay your head to rest against the wall as you did your best to mentally drown out the swearing coming from Anne, knowing that those words were ones a lady shouldn't have known, let alone uttered.
As the stream of swearing stopped you cautiously glanced around the frame of the open door, only to be greeted by the sight of Anne walking up the steps with the cloth she had tried to clean the mark away with now held to her forehead. Ichor was visibly soaking into the cloth, splashes of it visible against the paving stones that the barrel sat around.
"Are you-"
The glance that she shot you had you fall silent quickly, knowing from her expression that it hadn't been a pleasant experience.
"Do you feel up to discussing what you know about the Clockworker's and telling me how foolish trying to walk in through the front door would be when approaching your order?" you asked, figuring that a change of topic was probably welcome in this case.
"The Clockworkers are narrow minded bigots who use their position of respect to maintain a state of fear towards us. As long as people fear us, as long as they are allowed to perpetuate this, then people will be permitted to use extreme force against us in any encounter against us. They maintain underground prisons in what we are taken when they capture us. I wish not speak more on this subject, however." She huffed, edging a finger behind the cloth as she checked to see how quickly her recovery was progressing.
"As for the matter of you walking straight up to the order... If you are invited, then that would be perfectly fine. If you are not, they are likely to attack you on sight. Enemy or not, you are an intruder once you get that far and would be dealt with accordingly. If you're considering going in with your gun blazing, i'd save yourself trouble reaching the inevitable conclusion and shoot yourself in the head on the doorstep of the order."
You frowned slightly, you had expected an answer much like this though you had hoped for the best. You needed a new plan. Maybe you could take her to Red's, see if Red would agree to watch over her for you.
It didn't hurt to see.
"We should go see a friend of mine. I'm sure he'll be happy to watch your back while I check a few things out. I might go raise a stink at the Clockworker's or Technomancer's guild and see if I can get them to induct me. If I can get in, I can get resources, if I can get resources I can try my hand at forging weapons..." You trailed off, noticing you were getting another dirty look from her.
"You already want to ditch me with someone, because I'm a burden?"
"No, I don't feel safe taking you near the Clockworkers, if your friends can sense me, what's to say they can't detect you somehow?"
Silence, brief as it was was her admission of defeat.
"Very well. I do not like this, but I shall tolerate your friends company. Lead the way."
Without another word she cast aside the cloth that she had been holding to her forehead, the injury there almost healed already. The only thing that betrayed that she had done anything was a fading discolouration, a brief sensation of jealousy gripping you as knew she healed signifigantly faster than you were capable of.
You lead the way back toward the river side, taking note that fog was billowing in from it, that as you neared it the fog became thicker. By the time you reached the riverside it was thick enough to limit your vision to ten, maybe fifteen feet before it was impossible to make anything out clearly.
You didn't feel worried however, you felt that there was nothing lurking in the fog, that there was no evil that had somehow called it into being. It was just a foggy London morning. You strode onward with Anne in tow, past the buildings that had been crushed the night before by the vast sea creature, rubble strewn across the pathway.
You continued onward, striding through the fog with confidence as you lead the way toward Red's pub.
When you stepped through the door Red was clearly pleased to see you, pleased that the night before had not been goodbye, though there was clear confusion on etched on his wrinkled features. It wasn't the woman in tow that concerned him, it was you. More precisely, he was staring at your face with a mixture of shock and awe. "Ye're lookin' good kid, but... 'ow on earth'd ye manage t'recover from all o'the cuts'n bruises ye were covered in?"
Red's question prompted a small chuckle from you as you made your way up to the bar, Anne slipping in beside you as she glanced around cautiously, her expression showing that she wasn't entirely certain that she approved of this place, of what your friend had turned out to be. Red however quickly turned his attention from you to her.
"Well, 'ello there. Where'd ye find this pretty youn' thing?" Red asked, leaning over the bar as he attracted Anne's attention, as she turned to face him, cocking her head as she went to speak before you could react.
"I found him in my bed when I awoke this morning. Why, do you wish to take him from me?" She asked, tilting her head the other way as her hair spilled over her shoulders. Red laughed aloud at this, shaking his head as he did so. "So, what does a pretty thing like ye go by th' name'o?" He asked, while she smiled slightly, doing her best you could only assume to come across as normal.
"Anxi-"
"Anne" You interrupted while she shot you a sharp look. Red merely chuckled this time, seeing that she was giving you the look he himself hated getting from his wife. "So, i take it ye're not 'ere t'work given ye 'ave a lady with ye, tha' makes me wonder what I can be doin' fer ye." Red stated, polishing the bar with a rag as he waited clearly for that inevitable request for help.
"I need to get some people off Anne's back, so naturally I need a relatively safe place for her to wait for me. I'm certain that she would rather help than hinder you, wouldn't you, Anne."
Another dirty look.
At this rate you had to wonder if incapacitate you and turn you over to the enlightened while begging them to put her out of her misery.
"Aye. I can do that fer ye." Red nodded, prompting a smile from you. "Thank you Red, I shall return as soon as possible." you replied, turning to make your way out of the pub, though as you left you couldn't help but wonder if you'd done the right thing with the conversation that started between the two of them.
"I ne'er put 'im down fer likin' women. is 'e any good, ye know, in bed?"
"Oh, he's very good. He didn't complain once when I stole the covers."
"That ain't qui' what i were meanin' lass."
"Could you explain for what you meant, for I am terribly innocent and you couldn't possibly mean something that would offend me, could you?"
"Ahh... f'get it, it ain't importan' anyway."
Maybe you should have taken your machete back before you left her with Red. That wasn't important now however, what was important was setting things into motion, though the question was, what was the best course of action for that?
Were you going to seek the Enlightened out against all advice, go to the Clockworker's as suggested, or pursue a different course of action?Single Action, Fixed Cylinder Revolver. (Six Capacity, Slow Loading)
Holster, Ammo Belt, Revolver Ammo x42
Machete
Plain Jacket (Brown)
Waistcoat (Tan, Brass Buttons)
Plain Shirt (White)
Heavy Duty Trousers (Deep Grey-Brown)
Leather Boots (Deep Tan)
Author
Topic: They told me I could be anything... (Read 79094 times)