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cemetery_things2010-03-03 11:32 pm
murdering) wrote in cemetery_things2010-03-03 11:32 pm
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[ D. Gray-man | Godchild | Kuroshitsuji ] Desolation Row - III
+ Title: Desolation Row - Chapter III
+ Fandom: D. Gray-man, Godchild, Kuroshitsuji
+ Characters: Ciel Phantomhive, Sebastian Michaelis, Lau, Allen Walker, Cyril Kamelot, Tyki Mikk, Rhode Kamelot, Wisely Kamelot, Jasdero, Debitt, Cain Hargreaves, Riff, Dominic Crehador
+ Rating: OT
+ Word Count: 3741
+ Author's Notes: Remember that story I was writing like a year ago, and how I said it was going to be done faster, and all of that? Yes. Well. A year and a month later, I finally have chapter three. I promise chapter four will come out in a much more expedient manner. Depression, school changes, business, etc, devoured me, and before I knew it it was February again. So!
Welcome back to Desolation Row. We find our characters several days after the mysterious death at Prime Minister Kamelot's ball...
Lau was very fond of his private quarters within his establishment. It was as if he had stepped into his homeland once more, with rich brocade hangings and black wood furniture he had brought with him over the vast continent to this little island. The room lacked the scent of opium that permeated the rest of the building, with a soft blend of jasmine and sandalwood wafting from some hidden place.
Tyki had always remarked on the mystery of that smell, asking what it was. Lau always smiled and answered vaguely, but when his guests had left, he would always open that small cabinet across from his bed and light a fresh stick of incense.
The tiny Buddha behind those black doors smiled at him no matter what crimes he had committed that day. Lau would smile back before locking him away once more, along with his moral ponderings and qualms. The ancestors had always been pleased by his ambition when he was a boy. He had prayed for his success, offered the best he could afford, and worked his way through the ranks of the Shanghai mafia to reach his throne. Though he would not give all the credit to the power of forces he could not see, the man did not enjoy tempting his luck. The three-legged frog remained beneath his bed, a pair of qi’lin stood guard on either side of his door, and Lau would honor his predecessors every morning and night.
He had been engaging in this small ritual when a disgruntled Tyki Mikk came knocking at his door, not bothering to wait for a response before letting himself in. Lau had difficulty hiding his annoyance at the man’s intrusion, but he carefully closed the door on his secret when he saw he expression on his friend’s face.
“Lord Mikk,” he started, erring on the side of polite caution. “You seem troubled.”
The title only seemed to irritate the noble more. “Cyril’s at his tricks again, and I’m getting tired of the Yard pecking on my doorstep whenever I try to pay a call to Hargreaves. I was barely over the threshold on the way here before some sniveling detective tried to follow me.”
Lau made a sympathetic noise, clicking disapprovingly as Tyki nervously ran his hand through his hair. “Tyki, perhaps it would be best for you to remain home for several days. With the poor marquis’s death, we have all been labeled suspects.”
“I wasn’t even in the ballroom! If anyone should be getting pressured, it’s Cain!” Tyki sighed the instant he’d finished, shoulders sinking in defeat. “That’s not fair at all.
Stepping forward, Lau put a comforting hand on the noble’s shoulder. “It sounds as if you are in need of some leisure, my friend.” Though his smile was as benevolent as always, the man was mildly concerned for his companion. He was aware of how dark Tyki’s moods could become. “It just so happens that I have everything necessary for such an evening- that is, unless you would prefer a homely English girl for your pleasures.”
Tyki laughed, humor improving already. “You know my tastes, Lau. One of your lily-footed beauties will always be my first choice.”
Ciel Phantomhive was in a foul mood.
Sebastian kept his composure as his master threw his fit, sweeping up the remains of a vase that had become a projectile weapon and stepping aside as a flurry of rather heavy paperwork came flying at him.
“There is nothing! This man, this entire party, the note- It’s entirely useless!” Ciel looked frustrated enough to cry, though his eyes were shining with rage rather than tears. His superior investigations had found no leads, and the only physical clue had disappeared with the arrival of Scotland Yard on the crime scene. Sebastian kept his benign silence, following orders and answering questions, but not once did the boy inquire after the whereabouts of the paper they had found on the man’s person. Assuming the police had taken it, they had gone to find it in the evidence of the case; their search produced nothing.
“Perhaps, if the young master would control his temper, something more productive may be done.” Sebastian’s smile didn’t even twitch as the boy simply began ripping papers in half, throwing the torn pieces into the air like so much rubbish.
“Scotland Yard has no information on the man. He has no name, no scars, nothing particularly unique. Just an average old man of average height and average weight.” Ciel crumbled one sheet into a ball, tossing it aside. “He was not accounted for on the Minister’s guest list. None of the guests recognized him. The black mess has been written off as some bubonic bile and the rugs and body burned.”
Sebastian picked up the papers dutifully, face betraying none of his indulgent fantasies of teaching his brat master some temperance.
“The paper is gone as well! That was the only, the absolute only thing there was!” Ciel had run out of paper, not to mention things to break. He balled his fists in the bedspread, breathing heavily and trying to sort out some new method of attack.
“Are you quite finished, young master?” Sebastian’s tone was quite polite, watching the boy for any sign of a new tantrum. He would answer nothing until asked.
Ciel was silent for a long moment, finally nodding in response. “I should like my evening tea.”
The butler bowed slightly in acknowledgment. “As you wish.”
Several miles away, Rhode Kamelot was up to her nose in bathwater. The scent of roses wafted ever so lightly from the surface of the tub, mixing oddly with the lavender soap the maid was using to scrub her lady's skin. Though Rhode usually enjoyed her evening bath, she was in a rather impatient mood this particular night. Her uncle had promised her that Lau would be visiting her home today, but after the excitement of a visit from the Earl of Millennium it had been forgotten entirely.
“Don’t sulk,” Wisely was in his bedroom, opposite the bathroom he and Rhode were sharing while the décor was refurbished. He was letting one of the servants undress him with a rather grudging air. The boy still wasn’t quite used to the finer aspects of his new life, but Cyril was being quite strict with his new son’s education in nobility.
“I’m not sulking.” Rhode replied sharply. “I’m getting a bath. There’s a big difference.”
There was a long pause as the servant dressing Wisely was quietly shooed off, and he pulled on his own shift. “I can hear you moping from here. You can see your Chinaman tomorrow, you know.”
“Hmph.” She stepped out of the tub with the maid’s help, closing her eyes as a vast, fluffy towel was wrapped around her and began to rub her dry.
Wisely came across the hall once the maid had tugged Rhode’s nightgown, and started combing out her hair. Leaning in the doorway, he watched the girl as she waited for the maid to leave before messing her hair up once again.
“What?” Rhode snapped, putting her hands on her hips and staring the other Noah down.
He smiled, looking over his shoulder and down the hallway before answering. “The twins and I are going on an adventure once the adults are asleep. D’you want to come with?”
“An adventure?” She repeated the words rather blankly, not sure what he was trying to say.
Wisely’s grin widened. “We’re going to the East End.”
“No!” Rhode put her hands to her mouth, seeming quite shocked by the idea. As quickly as it came, however, her surprise was replaced by sheer enthusiasm. “Yes! Yes, I want to come!”
Tyki Mikk was naked, and it felt absolutely wonderful.
Lau had encouraged him to have just the smallest bit of opium; it was quite relaxing, and a little bit would do no harm. It was the chain smokers, the laudanum drinkers, who ended up addicted, not intelligent men such as Tyki.
Half a pinch later, he was dizzy, lightheaded, and being undressed by one of Lau’s girls. It was a rush of silent, hot sex, breath heavy, the scent of opium clinging to their skin and hair. Tyki would have sworn that reality evaporated when he climaxed. The surreal sensation lingered as they lay on the bed, tangled together and panting for breath.
The heat was nearly unbearable, even once the sheets had been thrown aside to leave their flesh bare to the open air.
“Damn,” He breathed, for once at a loss for words.
She smiled, tracing the lines of his scarred chest with her carefully filed fingernails. Either she didn't speak English, or she was just a quiet girl; Tyki was not much of one for pillow talk, either way. Even as she began to rub at his shoulders, he was starting to sit up, running a hand through his hair and wavng her off gently.
"Thank you," Tyki swung his legs off the bed, reaching for a spare robe that Lau had left draped across the bedside table. It was rather surreal, sitting in this Chinese room, in a Chinese robe, with a Chinese girl- Almost as if they were not in the midst of Victoria's London. For a few hours, he was a lord of the Orient, spoiled with the spice of a life so far from his norm.
The mirror against the wall broke the illusion, displaying the contradiction of his wildly Portuguese hair and dark skin. He was nothing but a man playing dressup, a figured roughly hewn from earth and sweat that was simply draped in fine brocade.
He felt a strange indifference at the thought, examining the contradictory image as he fixed his hair. So long and unruly; Tyki would have cut it in an instant, if it were not for his temperamental niece. Perhaps he would do it anyways, endure her whining and sniffling for the sake of his own pleasure.
That was an idea.
The girl had slipped out of the room while he was preoccupied, and Tyki could see Lau approaching in the mirror.
"Gold suits you," the Chinaman remarked, a smile on his face as he slid his hands into his sleeves.
"Not well." Tyki adjusted the robe, drawing it forward and tying it loosely at the waist. His chest was still bare, scarred flesh gliistening with sweat. "I'm not made for the finery of the East."
Lau seemed to find that amusing. "And you say you aren't made for the finery of the West. Where do you suppose that leaves you, Lord Mikk?"
Ignoring the silence that followed, Lau drew a pale, gold ribbon around his friend's long hair, tying it back with deft fingers.
"I have some wine, if you wish to stay."
Tyki nodded, letting Lau lead him out of the room with a hand on his shoulder.
❦
They waited, ever so patiently, for their opportunity.
Cyril came to wish them goodnight, kissing his precious daughter on the forehead and tucking her in, fluffing Wisely's pillow and affectionately calling him 'son', and patting the twins on the head. He changed into his shift and kissed his wife, settled into bed and sighed softly as he closed his eyes.
His adopted son could sense the exact moment he slipped into his dreams. It was time to set things in motion.
Wisely slid out of bed on thieving feet, steps making no sound as he crept down the hallway to rouse the others. The twins were already up and dressing in their borrowed breeches and shirts, laughing silently as they helped one another tug on the stable boys' coats. Beneath their mattress, Wisely had slipped a few of his own stolen garments. Retrieving his loot, he led the twins to their smallest cohort's bedroom.
The groom's apprentice was small enough to match Rhode's sizing, and the boy had willingly given up a set of clothes in exchange for a bit of coin. They helped her out of her shift and into the unfamiliar breeches, buttoning and straightening until she was perfect picture of a common boy. Her wild hair, however, presented a problem.
"We can just leave it," she insisted, tousling it as she looked at herself in the mirror. "It's not like I've got ringlets or something."
Wisely scoffed, bending over her and examining their reflection critically. "It's not just the hair. You've got such a girl's face." He buried his fingers in the mess, trying to arrange it in some way that could be even slightly more masculine.
"We could shave her," Debitt suggested, shushing his brother's squeaks of laughter immediately. Rhode shot her cousin a deadly glare.
"A hat." Wisely finally declared. "We need one of those funny caps the newsboys wear."
"Where do you think we're going to find one of those?" Debitt sneered, unimpressed by the idea. "They don't sell newspapers on this side of town."
"But they do outside the End." Jasdero finally piped up, earning himself a glare from his twin.
"Exactly," Wisely patted Rhode's hair down before straightening and putting his hands on his hips. "We will just have to find one on the way."
❦
The hardest part of their adventure was getting out of the house. Wisely had learned on several occasions that it was physically impossible to get out the front door without being intercepted by a nosy servant, and had spent a few weeks searching for an alternate escape route. A rose-covered trellis beneath Rhode's window had turned out to be the perfect ladder, despite the thorns that covered the vines. The climb down was far from easy, but the agile adolescents managed to scramble down with almost no problems.
Getting Rhode over the garden wall was an entertaining obstacle, accompanied with quite a few curses and tumbles on the part of the little lady. Finally, quite tired of bothering with it, Wisely just had the twins climb to the street and catch the girl as he heaved her over the wall. Of course, they fumbled and dropped her, but after some cursing and gutpunching, all was forgotten in favor of clearing the way for Wisely to jump down.
As he jumped down onto the cobblestone walkway, Wisely looked around for any sign they had been observed. The street was empty, nobles and servants cozily cloistered behind their grand doors and safe gates. In a few windows, the glow of fireplaces and lanterns could still be seen, providing light to the late working and sleepless husbands, but there were no visible witnesses to their escape.
"Nobody saw us," he finally breathed, turning to face his companions. Theynodded in acknowledgment, and followed with hushed whispers as he started off toward the Thames.
❦
Standing in one of the darkened windows of his townhouse, Cain Hargreaves watched the motley crew of adventurers struggle across the wall and set out into the dark world. He couldn't quite suppress a smile at their antics, but he had a nagging sense that this was an ill-fated expedition. The Kamelot boys slipped out of the house on a regular basis, of course- They simply had never taken Cyril's daughter along for their fun.
"Riff," he said, hearing the butler's movement as he entered the room.
The servant turned from where he had been prepared to stoke the fire, waiting for the rest of his lord's request.
Cain was silent for a long while, contemplating his course of action. It was a fanciful idea, and possibly entirely pointless. However…
"We're going for a walk. My coat, please."
❦
London's East End was a crush of humanity's undesirables. Filth filled the gutters, spilling out into the narrow cobbled lanes and staining the soles and skirts of those who passed. Whores lurked at the mouth of every alley, luring the gentlemen with coy words and low cut gowns. Rhode found herself gaping at the sight of a woman pleasuring a man in the shadows, unable to look away despite the disgust that welled in her gut. Her arm was grabbed and she was tugged along, however, further down the maze of streets.
The night was broken by the multitude of lanterns in their path, illuminating a path of sin and seduction to the heart of the city. Noblemen were visible in the doorways to unsavory establishments, leaving and entering with pleased smiles on their faces. A broken window one story above the street let a child's scream escape into the open air, and the mistress of the whorehouse looked up with a disapproving glare. Rhode was too busy watching that window as the twins towed her along to see the sharp black coats seated at a rundown café, barely three yards from the road.
"Stop getting distracted," Wisely snapped, getting a firm grip on his sister's hand. "The last thing we need is you wandering off."
Rhode jerked out of his reach, shooting him a particularly nasty glare. "I'm fine. I don't need daddy's charity case coddling me like a child."
❦
Dominic Crehador was thoroughly impressed with the rate at which his odd companion was devouring a small pile of meat pies. Certainly, the train ride to London was long, but judging by the quality of his clothes and coat, Dominic had assumed he would be well fed. The boy's voracious appetite was of little consequence, however; Dominic was not paying for the meal, and this was simply a companionship of convenience and coincidence.
After meeting one another on the train and finding themselves walking in the same direction from the station, they had ended up dining at a relatively famous shop. Even Crehador had to admit these were some of the best pies in London.
Rather suddenly, the white haired boy turned around midbite, looking at the crowd of people walking past the café with a curious expression. Dominic watched him for a moment before speaking.
"What are you looking for, Walker?"
The boy looked back to his food, brow knit in a troubled frown. "Nothing, I suppose." He glanced down at the pie, as if considering something. "I just thought I heard a familiar voice."
Dominic looked over his companion's shoulder at a rather peculiar confrontation between several young boys; one was barely a child, one was nearly a young man, and two were just old enough to be considered teenagers. The child and the light-haired young man were facing off, hands on hips and glaring at one another as obviously nasty words were exchanged.
After a few minutes of this, the young man grabbed his companion's arm, starting to walk off and trying to tow him along. The child had other ideas, however, sitting back and digging his heels into the cobblestones. Despite the large contrast in size, the child was managing to win the struggle- At least, until the older boy forcibly picked him up and slung him over his shoulder. With no small amount of kicking and shouting from the smallest of their number, the group moved off down the road. Dominic wasn't quite sure whether or not he had just witnessed a kidnapping of some sort; either way, it wasn't really his business.
"Yes, well. You can run into all sorts of people in this part of town," Crehador remarked offhandedly. The clergyman was already working at his food again, though, and didn't seem to be paying attention.
Rhode pulled her hat down tightly on her head, following her cousins and brother with a very grudging slouch to her shoulders. She had come along on this little excursion to enjoy herself, not be dragged along like a leashed dog.
After a few minutes of looking at the people on the sides of the street, the girl dropped her gaze to the street beneath her feet. The stones here were far more uneven than those outside her father's house, and there was more than dirt staining the street. Every once in a while, there was a strange black spot, and on one occasion Rhode had to step around a freshly dried mess of blood and teeth. When she looked back up at the surrounding buildings, she realized they had entered an even worse set of streets. There were loud arguments going on outside a bar they were passing, and the noise of glass breaking was audible from the interior.
"Wisely," she started, eying a man who was watching her hungrily. "Where are we going, again?"
He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted when a large man came slamming into his side. Wisely went sprawling onto the cobblestones, completely unprepared for the impact. While he was recovering from his fall, the twins were intercepting the man who had brought the altercation into the street.
Debitt shoved the stranger, shouting something about watching where he was going; Jasdero backed him up with his usual fervor. The man was obviously not having any of it, however, and he swung his fist into Jasdero's face without further preamble. That set off Debitt, who hurled himself at the man with murderous intent and a shouted curse. The noise was drawing spectators, and Rhode watched with mute fascination as dirty drunks came stumbling out of the bars to join the brawl.
Wisely was dusting himself off and getting to his feet when the fight really started up, mouth set in a line of irritation. He could handle himself in a fight, but he hadn't come to the End in search of trouble tonight. With the practiced air of a scrapper, he uppercut the man who had started it all, knocking him out cold. It was far too late to avert events, and the street was already a broiling mess of aggression and brutal beatings, bottles breaking on stones and heads while men roared. Rhode realized with sudden clarity that she needed to get out of harm's way. Stepping back, she kept her gaze locked on the mess of men in front of her.
Debitt shoved his way to the top of the pile, turning to see Rhode standing in the middle of the street with a dumb expression on her face. She was too close to the fray for his taste.
"Back up, stupid!" Debitt roared as loudly as he could, elbowing a grabby brawler in the gut. Rhode looked at him as if she'd only just realized he was in there, and started to turn to move out of the street. As if on cue, a massive man went flying backwards out of the fight. Before Debitt could open his mouth to warn her, Rhode disappeared beneath the man, hitting the filthy cobblestones hard enough that bystanders winced.
Before she lost consciousness, Rhode saw her blood draining into the cracks beside her face.
+ Fandom: D. Gray-man, Godchild, Kuroshitsuji
+ Characters: Ciel Phantomhive, Sebastian Michaelis, Lau, Allen Walker, Cyril Kamelot, Tyki Mikk, Rhode Kamelot, Wisely Kamelot, Jasdero, Debitt, Cain Hargreaves, Riff, Dominic Crehador
+ Rating: OT
+ Word Count: 3741
+ Author's Notes: Remember that story I was writing like a year ago, and how I said it was going to be done faster, and all of that? Yes. Well. A year and a month later, I finally have chapter three. I promise chapter four will come out in a much more expedient manner. Depression, school changes, business, etc, devoured me, and before I knew it it was February again. So!
Welcome back to Desolation Row. We find our characters several days after the mysterious death at Prime Minister Kamelot's ball...
Lau was very fond of his private quarters within his establishment. It was as if he had stepped into his homeland once more, with rich brocade hangings and black wood furniture he had brought with him over the vast continent to this little island. The room lacked the scent of opium that permeated the rest of the building, with a soft blend of jasmine and sandalwood wafting from some hidden place.
Tyki had always remarked on the mystery of that smell, asking what it was. Lau always smiled and answered vaguely, but when his guests had left, he would always open that small cabinet across from his bed and light a fresh stick of incense.
The tiny Buddha behind those black doors smiled at him no matter what crimes he had committed that day. Lau would smile back before locking him away once more, along with his moral ponderings and qualms. The ancestors had always been pleased by his ambition when he was a boy. He had prayed for his success, offered the best he could afford, and worked his way through the ranks of the Shanghai mafia to reach his throne. Though he would not give all the credit to the power of forces he could not see, the man did not enjoy tempting his luck. The three-legged frog remained beneath his bed, a pair of qi’lin stood guard on either side of his door, and Lau would honor his predecessors every morning and night.
He had been engaging in this small ritual when a disgruntled Tyki Mikk came knocking at his door, not bothering to wait for a response before letting himself in. Lau had difficulty hiding his annoyance at the man’s intrusion, but he carefully closed the door on his secret when he saw he expression on his friend’s face.
“Lord Mikk,” he started, erring on the side of polite caution. “You seem troubled.”
The title only seemed to irritate the noble more. “Cyril’s at his tricks again, and I’m getting tired of the Yard pecking on my doorstep whenever I try to pay a call to Hargreaves. I was barely over the threshold on the way here before some sniveling detective tried to follow me.”
Lau made a sympathetic noise, clicking disapprovingly as Tyki nervously ran his hand through his hair. “Tyki, perhaps it would be best for you to remain home for several days. With the poor marquis’s death, we have all been labeled suspects.”
“I wasn’t even in the ballroom! If anyone should be getting pressured, it’s Cain!” Tyki sighed the instant he’d finished, shoulders sinking in defeat. “That’s not fair at all.
Stepping forward, Lau put a comforting hand on the noble’s shoulder. “It sounds as if you are in need of some leisure, my friend.” Though his smile was as benevolent as always, the man was mildly concerned for his companion. He was aware of how dark Tyki’s moods could become. “It just so happens that I have everything necessary for such an evening- that is, unless you would prefer a homely English girl for your pleasures.”
Tyki laughed, humor improving already. “You know my tastes, Lau. One of your lily-footed beauties will always be my first choice.”
❦
Ciel Phantomhive was in a foul mood.
Sebastian kept his composure as his master threw his fit, sweeping up the remains of a vase that had become a projectile weapon and stepping aside as a flurry of rather heavy paperwork came flying at him.
“There is nothing! This man, this entire party, the note- It’s entirely useless!” Ciel looked frustrated enough to cry, though his eyes were shining with rage rather than tears. His superior investigations had found no leads, and the only physical clue had disappeared with the arrival of Scotland Yard on the crime scene. Sebastian kept his benign silence, following orders and answering questions, but not once did the boy inquire after the whereabouts of the paper they had found on the man’s person. Assuming the police had taken it, they had gone to find it in the evidence of the case; their search produced nothing.
“Perhaps, if the young master would control his temper, something more productive may be done.” Sebastian’s smile didn’t even twitch as the boy simply began ripping papers in half, throwing the torn pieces into the air like so much rubbish.
“Scotland Yard has no information on the man. He has no name, no scars, nothing particularly unique. Just an average old man of average height and average weight.” Ciel crumbled one sheet into a ball, tossing it aside. “He was not accounted for on the Minister’s guest list. None of the guests recognized him. The black mess has been written off as some bubonic bile and the rugs and body burned.”
Sebastian picked up the papers dutifully, face betraying none of his indulgent fantasies of teaching his brat master some temperance.
“The paper is gone as well! That was the only, the absolute only thing there was!” Ciel had run out of paper, not to mention things to break. He balled his fists in the bedspread, breathing heavily and trying to sort out some new method of attack.
“Are you quite finished, young master?” Sebastian’s tone was quite polite, watching the boy for any sign of a new tantrum. He would answer nothing until asked.
Ciel was silent for a long moment, finally nodding in response. “I should like my evening tea.”
The butler bowed slightly in acknowledgment. “As you wish.”
❦
Several miles away, Rhode Kamelot was up to her nose in bathwater. The scent of roses wafted ever so lightly from the surface of the tub, mixing oddly with the lavender soap the maid was using to scrub her lady's skin. Though Rhode usually enjoyed her evening bath, she was in a rather impatient mood this particular night. Her uncle had promised her that Lau would be visiting her home today, but after the excitement of a visit from the Earl of Millennium it had been forgotten entirely.
“Don’t sulk,” Wisely was in his bedroom, opposite the bathroom he and Rhode were sharing while the décor was refurbished. He was letting one of the servants undress him with a rather grudging air. The boy still wasn’t quite used to the finer aspects of his new life, but Cyril was being quite strict with his new son’s education in nobility.
“I’m not sulking.” Rhode replied sharply. “I’m getting a bath. There’s a big difference.”
There was a long pause as the servant dressing Wisely was quietly shooed off, and he pulled on his own shift. “I can hear you moping from here. You can see your Chinaman tomorrow, you know.”
“Hmph.” She stepped out of the tub with the maid’s help, closing her eyes as a vast, fluffy towel was wrapped around her and began to rub her dry.
Wisely came across the hall once the maid had tugged Rhode’s nightgown, and started combing out her hair. Leaning in the doorway, he watched the girl as she waited for the maid to leave before messing her hair up once again.
“What?” Rhode snapped, putting her hands on her hips and staring the other Noah down.
He smiled, looking over his shoulder and down the hallway before answering. “The twins and I are going on an adventure once the adults are asleep. D’you want to come with?”
“An adventure?” She repeated the words rather blankly, not sure what he was trying to say.
Wisely’s grin widened. “We’re going to the East End.”
“No!” Rhode put her hands to her mouth, seeming quite shocked by the idea. As quickly as it came, however, her surprise was replaced by sheer enthusiasm. “Yes! Yes, I want to come!”
❦
Tyki Mikk was naked, and it felt absolutely wonderful.
Lau had encouraged him to have just the smallest bit of opium; it was quite relaxing, and a little bit would do no harm. It was the chain smokers, the laudanum drinkers, who ended up addicted, not intelligent men such as Tyki.
Half a pinch later, he was dizzy, lightheaded, and being undressed by one of Lau’s girls. It was a rush of silent, hot sex, breath heavy, the scent of opium clinging to their skin and hair. Tyki would have sworn that reality evaporated when he climaxed. The surreal sensation lingered as they lay on the bed, tangled together and panting for breath.
The heat was nearly unbearable, even once the sheets had been thrown aside to leave their flesh bare to the open air.
“Damn,” He breathed, for once at a loss for words.
She smiled, tracing the lines of his scarred chest with her carefully filed fingernails. Either she didn't speak English, or she was just a quiet girl; Tyki was not much of one for pillow talk, either way. Even as she began to rub at his shoulders, he was starting to sit up, running a hand through his hair and wavng her off gently.
"Thank you," Tyki swung his legs off the bed, reaching for a spare robe that Lau had left draped across the bedside table. It was rather surreal, sitting in this Chinese room, in a Chinese robe, with a Chinese girl- Almost as if they were not in the midst of Victoria's London. For a few hours, he was a lord of the Orient, spoiled with the spice of a life so far from his norm.
The mirror against the wall broke the illusion, displaying the contradiction of his wildly Portuguese hair and dark skin. He was nothing but a man playing dressup, a figured roughly hewn from earth and sweat that was simply draped in fine brocade.
He felt a strange indifference at the thought, examining the contradictory image as he fixed his hair. So long and unruly; Tyki would have cut it in an instant, if it were not for his temperamental niece. Perhaps he would do it anyways, endure her whining and sniffling for the sake of his own pleasure.
That was an idea.
The girl had slipped out of the room while he was preoccupied, and Tyki could see Lau approaching in the mirror.
"Gold suits you," the Chinaman remarked, a smile on his face as he slid his hands into his sleeves.
"Not well." Tyki adjusted the robe, drawing it forward and tying it loosely at the waist. His chest was still bare, scarred flesh gliistening with sweat. "I'm not made for the finery of the East."
Lau seemed to find that amusing. "And you say you aren't made for the finery of the West. Where do you suppose that leaves you, Lord Mikk?"
Ignoring the silence that followed, Lau drew a pale, gold ribbon around his friend's long hair, tying it back with deft fingers.
"I have some wine, if you wish to stay."
Tyki nodded, letting Lau lead him out of the room with a hand on his shoulder.
❦
They waited, ever so patiently, for their opportunity.
Cyril came to wish them goodnight, kissing his precious daughter on the forehead and tucking her in, fluffing Wisely's pillow and affectionately calling him 'son', and patting the twins on the head. He changed into his shift and kissed his wife, settled into bed and sighed softly as he closed his eyes.
His adopted son could sense the exact moment he slipped into his dreams. It was time to set things in motion.
Wisely slid out of bed on thieving feet, steps making no sound as he crept down the hallway to rouse the others. The twins were already up and dressing in their borrowed breeches and shirts, laughing silently as they helped one another tug on the stable boys' coats. Beneath their mattress, Wisely had slipped a few of his own stolen garments. Retrieving his loot, he led the twins to their smallest cohort's bedroom.
The groom's apprentice was small enough to match Rhode's sizing, and the boy had willingly given up a set of clothes in exchange for a bit of coin. They helped her out of her shift and into the unfamiliar breeches, buttoning and straightening until she was perfect picture of a common boy. Her wild hair, however, presented a problem.
"We can just leave it," she insisted, tousling it as she looked at herself in the mirror. "It's not like I've got ringlets or something."
Wisely scoffed, bending over her and examining their reflection critically. "It's not just the hair. You've got such a girl's face." He buried his fingers in the mess, trying to arrange it in some way that could be even slightly more masculine.
"We could shave her," Debitt suggested, shushing his brother's squeaks of laughter immediately. Rhode shot her cousin a deadly glare.
"A hat." Wisely finally declared. "We need one of those funny caps the newsboys wear."
"Where do you think we're going to find one of those?" Debitt sneered, unimpressed by the idea. "They don't sell newspapers on this side of town."
"But they do outside the End." Jasdero finally piped up, earning himself a glare from his twin.
"Exactly," Wisely patted Rhode's hair down before straightening and putting his hands on his hips. "We will just have to find one on the way."
❦
The hardest part of their adventure was getting out of the house. Wisely had learned on several occasions that it was physically impossible to get out the front door without being intercepted by a nosy servant, and had spent a few weeks searching for an alternate escape route. A rose-covered trellis beneath Rhode's window had turned out to be the perfect ladder, despite the thorns that covered the vines. The climb down was far from easy, but the agile adolescents managed to scramble down with almost no problems.
Getting Rhode over the garden wall was an entertaining obstacle, accompanied with quite a few curses and tumbles on the part of the little lady. Finally, quite tired of bothering with it, Wisely just had the twins climb to the street and catch the girl as he heaved her over the wall. Of course, they fumbled and dropped her, but after some cursing and gutpunching, all was forgotten in favor of clearing the way for Wisely to jump down.
As he jumped down onto the cobblestone walkway, Wisely looked around for any sign they had been observed. The street was empty, nobles and servants cozily cloistered behind their grand doors and safe gates. In a few windows, the glow of fireplaces and lanterns could still be seen, providing light to the late working and sleepless husbands, but there were no visible witnesses to their escape.
"Nobody saw us," he finally breathed, turning to face his companions. Theynodded in acknowledgment, and followed with hushed whispers as he started off toward the Thames.
❦
Standing in one of the darkened windows of his townhouse, Cain Hargreaves watched the motley crew of adventurers struggle across the wall and set out into the dark world. He couldn't quite suppress a smile at their antics, but he had a nagging sense that this was an ill-fated expedition. The Kamelot boys slipped out of the house on a regular basis, of course- They simply had never taken Cyril's daughter along for their fun.
"Riff," he said, hearing the butler's movement as he entered the room.
The servant turned from where he had been prepared to stoke the fire, waiting for the rest of his lord's request.
Cain was silent for a long while, contemplating his course of action. It was a fanciful idea, and possibly entirely pointless. However…
"We're going for a walk. My coat, please."
❦
London's East End was a crush of humanity's undesirables. Filth filled the gutters, spilling out into the narrow cobbled lanes and staining the soles and skirts of those who passed. Whores lurked at the mouth of every alley, luring the gentlemen with coy words and low cut gowns. Rhode found herself gaping at the sight of a woman pleasuring a man in the shadows, unable to look away despite the disgust that welled in her gut. Her arm was grabbed and she was tugged along, however, further down the maze of streets.
The night was broken by the multitude of lanterns in their path, illuminating a path of sin and seduction to the heart of the city. Noblemen were visible in the doorways to unsavory establishments, leaving and entering with pleased smiles on their faces. A broken window one story above the street let a child's scream escape into the open air, and the mistress of the whorehouse looked up with a disapproving glare. Rhode was too busy watching that window as the twins towed her along to see the sharp black coats seated at a rundown café, barely three yards from the road.
"Stop getting distracted," Wisely snapped, getting a firm grip on his sister's hand. "The last thing we need is you wandering off."
Rhode jerked out of his reach, shooting him a particularly nasty glare. "I'm fine. I don't need daddy's charity case coddling me like a child."
❦
Dominic Crehador was thoroughly impressed with the rate at which his odd companion was devouring a small pile of meat pies. Certainly, the train ride to London was long, but judging by the quality of his clothes and coat, Dominic had assumed he would be well fed. The boy's voracious appetite was of little consequence, however; Dominic was not paying for the meal, and this was simply a companionship of convenience and coincidence.
After meeting one another on the train and finding themselves walking in the same direction from the station, they had ended up dining at a relatively famous shop. Even Crehador had to admit these were some of the best pies in London.
Rather suddenly, the white haired boy turned around midbite, looking at the crowd of people walking past the café with a curious expression. Dominic watched him for a moment before speaking.
"What are you looking for, Walker?"
The boy looked back to his food, brow knit in a troubled frown. "Nothing, I suppose." He glanced down at the pie, as if considering something. "I just thought I heard a familiar voice."
Dominic looked over his companion's shoulder at a rather peculiar confrontation between several young boys; one was barely a child, one was nearly a young man, and two were just old enough to be considered teenagers. The child and the light-haired young man were facing off, hands on hips and glaring at one another as obviously nasty words were exchanged.
After a few minutes of this, the young man grabbed his companion's arm, starting to walk off and trying to tow him along. The child had other ideas, however, sitting back and digging his heels into the cobblestones. Despite the large contrast in size, the child was managing to win the struggle- At least, until the older boy forcibly picked him up and slung him over his shoulder. With no small amount of kicking and shouting from the smallest of their number, the group moved off down the road. Dominic wasn't quite sure whether or not he had just witnessed a kidnapping of some sort; either way, it wasn't really his business.
"Yes, well. You can run into all sorts of people in this part of town," Crehador remarked offhandedly. The clergyman was already working at his food again, though, and didn't seem to be paying attention.
❦
Rhode pulled her hat down tightly on her head, following her cousins and brother with a very grudging slouch to her shoulders. She had come along on this little excursion to enjoy herself, not be dragged along like a leashed dog.
After a few minutes of looking at the people on the sides of the street, the girl dropped her gaze to the street beneath her feet. The stones here were far more uneven than those outside her father's house, and there was more than dirt staining the street. Every once in a while, there was a strange black spot, and on one occasion Rhode had to step around a freshly dried mess of blood and teeth. When she looked back up at the surrounding buildings, she realized they had entered an even worse set of streets. There were loud arguments going on outside a bar they were passing, and the noise of glass breaking was audible from the interior.
"Wisely," she started, eying a man who was watching her hungrily. "Where are we going, again?"
He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted when a large man came slamming into his side. Wisely went sprawling onto the cobblestones, completely unprepared for the impact. While he was recovering from his fall, the twins were intercepting the man who had brought the altercation into the street.
Debitt shoved the stranger, shouting something about watching where he was going; Jasdero backed him up with his usual fervor. The man was obviously not having any of it, however, and he swung his fist into Jasdero's face without further preamble. That set off Debitt, who hurled himself at the man with murderous intent and a shouted curse. The noise was drawing spectators, and Rhode watched with mute fascination as dirty drunks came stumbling out of the bars to join the brawl.
Wisely was dusting himself off and getting to his feet when the fight really started up, mouth set in a line of irritation. He could handle himself in a fight, but he hadn't come to the End in search of trouble tonight. With the practiced air of a scrapper, he uppercut the man who had started it all, knocking him out cold. It was far too late to avert events, and the street was already a broiling mess of aggression and brutal beatings, bottles breaking on stones and heads while men roared. Rhode realized with sudden clarity that she needed to get out of harm's way. Stepping back, she kept her gaze locked on the mess of men in front of her.
Debitt shoved his way to the top of the pile, turning to see Rhode standing in the middle of the street with a dumb expression on her face. She was too close to the fray for his taste.
"Back up, stupid!" Debitt roared as loudly as he could, elbowing a grabby brawler in the gut. Rhode looked at him as if she'd only just realized he was in there, and started to turn to move out of the street. As if on cue, a massive man went flying backwards out of the fight. Before Debitt could open his mouth to warn her, Rhode disappeared beneath the man, hitting the filthy cobblestones hard enough that bystanders winced.
Before she lost consciousness, Rhode saw her blood draining into the cracks beside her face.
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:D
~LOVES~ LOL