Cortex Steampunk Game: Episode 1: Red Dress, Cold Ground

[IsabellaRose]

12 hours ago, MagnificentBastard said:

Edmund's eyes then dart towards a stranger, his expression hardening. "Enough!" he barks in Helsink's direction, his voice sharp with misdirected anger. "If you have time for accusations, you have time to assist with the evacuation. This is no time for finger-pointing; it's time for action."

 

OOC: This feels like a perfect opportunity for our first contest.

Edmund is trying to get Aldert to cease point and placing blame on Alicia and assist with the evacuation, calling him out in front of everyone. Aldert wants to cast aspersions and won't be easily swayed.

You could build a dice pool (the most relevant Relationship + the most relevant Value + 1 Distinction, Ability, or Resource you can convincingly apply to the situation, if any) and roll to set the challenge. You would roll all the dice in your pool, then add the 2 highest results for your total (unless they're 1's, you can't add 1's to the total).

Aldert could give in (not likely), or roll. He would need to beat your total to volley the contest back to you. If he does, you roll again trying to beat his total. If he does not, he takes stress.

[WickedCadrach]

On 26/01/2026 at 09:44, MagnificentBastard said:

"There's more going on here than you could possibly understand, or that I have time to explain," he says, his voice tinged with a mix of impatience and superiority. He pauses, his tone dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial whisper. "But if you require an explanation, suffice to say it's every man's prerogative to run into danger, just as it's every woman's right to flee from it. A right I suggest you employ now!"

Missy returned Blackwood's condescension with a demure nod, an anxious laugh, and a feeble "of course" that she held up like a paper fan to conceal the 'fuck you' dying to escape her lips.  

Watching the arrogant man stride away without further comment, Missy was bristling at the almost supernatural speed that those long legs employed to carry the casino owner to the stairwell. She glanced back with a hot sigh, her nose crinkling as she considered rejoining Jane. Not because she thought it was the better plan. It was purely the idea that in these shoes and this skirt, she'd look as if she was scurrying after Edmund Blackwood like one of his harem. Missy was willing to entertain a great many misconceptions about her character, but that idea found space between the adrenaline of the public murder and the anxiety concerning Lady Montgomery's whereabouts to make her skin crawl beneath her opera gloves. 

"Damn it." Gripping her skirt, Missy plunged ahead, heels stamping the carpet as her shorter strides fought to regain ground she'd lost to hesitation. 

She reached the ground floor just as Edmund called for Helsink's silence, and in an instant, she took in the scene: the blood on Alicia's hands. As Carlo called back to Blackwood, Missy cast a careful eye about. Helsink. Alicia. Blackwood. Carlo. Miss Gerenhart. And Silas Ward's bleeding corpse. Why had none of them fled? Carlo she could understand. But what were the rest of them doing? Where had Red Jenny gone?

What am I doing here? Despite standing off at a distance yet, she felt exposed, the flow of evacuating patrons slowing her advance as much as her own hesitance. But as Helsink's accusing finger turned to the pale young woman cradling the victim once more, Missy felt her caution evaporate in a flare of protective anger. 

"Mr. Helsink, for decency's sake." Missy crossed to the older man as quickly as she could. Laying a palm on his arm, she took his hand with the other and pressed close. "Now is not the time. We all saw it wasn't Miss Alicia. It couldn't have been her. Please." Missy spoke slowly, a soft pleading in her tone as her face came closer to his ear in order to be heard. 

Spoiler

For Alicia's sake, Missy's going to try to aid Edmund in shutting down Helsink here. I'm not sure how to do that though. If I find it, I'll edit. Otherwise, if someone can let me know in the OOC thread Thanks!

 

[IsabellaRose]

 

Spoiler

OOC: Aldert's roll: http://roll.coyotecode.net/lookup.php?rollid=301033

Aldert is not used to being called out in such a direct manner. Back home, his titles earned him respect that seems to be lacking in this uncivilized wasteland called the American West. He sputters and stammers for a moment, but with three voices raised against him, he slowly lowers his pointing finger and says no more. 

He does, however, gesture to a few men who seem to be waiting on his orders, and they all move toward the exits. He'll have to find another forum to publicly accuse Alicia of villainy. It doesn't seem to have worked here.

[Chiyako]

Someone approaches.

All of her senses were focused forward. Pawing hands in the darkness. Listening for movements. Eyes open to capture whatever light she could manage. Heavier footsteps created scuffing and creaking noises along the surface of the wood stage. Enough light spilled out from the backstage area to present the shadowy figure of the night's main attraction: Carlo Amankona. Relief and fear both spilled into her veins. On one hand he could act as a distraction. A protector. Someone larger and, in the moment, physically stronger and capable of possibly holding off the mysterious murderer. On the other hand he could get himself injured, or perhaps turn his fury upon her if he believed her to be culpable.

Eyes widened when another sudden motion caught her attention. The strange woman who had appeared to slit the stagemaster's throat had just floated upwards towards the ceiling. Darkness appeared to spill out from the woman's dress. She listened for the whirrling of wires, the thrumming of a machine, or the squeaking of pulley wheels. Only the unusual humming sound followed the perpetrator. Both disappeared into the darkness above. By what method had she made her escape? Alicia could not place it in the moment.

I doubt this is Millie's doing. Requires investigation. For now-

Her attention returned towards the floor as a wet warmth spread across the tip of her right glove. The sensation spread to her knees and both palms when she pushed herself forward. Hands fumbled carefully about within the darkness, tracing the figure of the man laying upon the floor. She winced for a moment as the lights flickered to life, however once the form of Silas Ward appeared the pale doctor set immediately to work. The man was rolled slightly, just enough to offer her better access to his throat. One hand lifted the man's chin. The lack of resistance, of any movement at all, was enough to warrant concern.

No good.

Silas had suffered a wound which had been mostly likely fatal within the first few seconds. Even if she had reached the man in time there would have been little that she could do. Sure, she could have tested the drugs she used on her own body, but it was unlikely to make a meaningful difference here, and certainly not with a body unaccustomed to the chemicals she pumped into her own system. A sewing kit had been available within one of her pockets. That, she deduced, would not have mattered.

Alicia's gaze met the lifeless eyes of the corpse lying before her. She reached up and with bloodied fingers closed the lids of Silas Ward. Not a gesture that she found particular meaning in herself, but one she understood eased the hearts and minds of others, especially those who were superstitious. Given the unusual circumstances of the man's death, it was probably for the best.

"Of course" she muttered softly, drawing in a deeper breath to calm the quickening beat of her heart. Aldert Helsink had taken this moment to strike. It would not be the first time that her kindness had been taken advantage of, nor would it be the last. She wondered for a moment if part of why she played the monster was to make herself believe in the lies. Would it not be easier to simply acquiesce? One moment of weakness was all it took to uproot her life. If she cared less for others she might have avoided this.

Lucky for her then that others were of clear mind. Edmund Blackwood was the first to speak out, not so much in her defense but at least in a manner which had cut into Aldert's accusations. Carlo had paid witness to the killer's presence. His words too felt as though they might cut into Aldert's claims. But it was the arrival of Missy Fischer that really sealed the fate of Aldert's bold lies. Three people, at least two of whom held some level of renown within the town, had disagreed with Aldert Helsink. They were not in Europe anymore. His influence had yet to creep very far in this country.

Welcome to the United States, Aldert Helsink. May you fail spectacularly.

Finally standing to her feet, Alicia took a moment to look over herself. She had been center front of the stage, as close as she could get in preparation for the performance. In the excitement of what had transpired Alicia hadn't noticed the arterial spray. Droplets had scattered across her dress and the wide brimmed hat that she wore. A couple of droplets had managed to reach the pale skin of her left cheek, but that was perhaps the most noticeable trace, followed then by the now soaked gloves that she wore. She had been lucky enough to wear red tonight, at the very least.

"I am afraid that there is little to be done here" Alicia finally spoke, only now turning to face the others and, more specifically, to set her gaze upon the retreating form of Aldert. She had taken the time to calm herself. Clearly speaking with a more local friendly accent took at least some measure of effort. "He had likely expired before he hit the stage" she explained, pausing to direct her gaze towards Carlo. "I am sorry for your loss."

[WickedCadrach]

As Aldert Helsink retreated, Missy lingered to watch him go. Something in the older man's affect whispered suspicions that he would not be heading for the exit, but it was far from her main priority at the moment. Cutting for the stage steps on the wings, Missy clutched at her skirt, her steps punctuating the speed of her approach across the boards. 

Passing Edmund on her way, she paused long enough to fix him with a pointed stare and whisper, "I'll be by to recover Miss Montgomery later. Can I trust your brass butler has enough sense not to take a lady of her caliber to the Golden Stag?"

Whatever his answer, Missy did not break her stride, making her way toward Carlo, Alicia, and the corpse of Silas Ward. 

"Are you all right?" Missy placed a gloved hand on Alicia's back, gently, leaning forward to assess the wound more closely. The assailant may dress herself as a specter, but the cut was as clear as any blade Missy had ever seen.

Awaiting Alicia's reply, she tilted her head, eyes attuned to the theater's tricks and charms scanning the rigging for pulleys or loose lines between the narrow gangplanks that served as the upper rigging's catwalks, searching for anything that might give a hint to how Red Jenny had made her fantastic egress. 

"Mr. Amankona, I see a catwalk above. How is it accessed? Does it connect to the roof at all?" There were a dozen ways Missy had hoped her first words with the magnetic musician would go. Discussing the theater architecture had not been among them, and voicing the pressing inquiry added one more bitter drop to the bile she held in reserve for the phantom. 

[OOC: Missy didn't see Thane intercept Jane as TIAL-V was escorting her out]

[MagnificentBastard]

As he listens to her speak, Edmund's eyes once again wander to the allure of Miss Fisher's cleavage and the way her eyes sparkle with a mix of determination and vulnerability.

"The Golden Stag is one of the safest and most reputable establishments in town, Miss. I assure you, Miss Montgomery will be in excellent hands there. As for playing amateur investigators, perhaps it would be wiser to wait for the sheriff to arrive and take charge of the situation. After all, we wouldn't want to compromise any potential evidence, would we?" His voice laced with a hint of amusement. 

Internally, Edmund hopes that TIAL-V has indeed escorted everyone to the Golden Stag safely. The thought of his automaton's efficiency brings a small smile to his lips, even as he maintains a composed exterior. He knows that the Golden Stag, with its discreet and secure environment, is certainly safer than the hall.

He turns to Carlo, his gaze sharp and focused. "Carlo, I am sorry we are meeting under such regrettable circumstances, I was truly looking forward to hearing your performance. Can I ask you to make sure every employee in the hall stays for the sheriff? We can't have anyone leaving until this is sorted out."

He says with a tone that makes it clear he is used to order people around all his life. Edmund reaches into his jacket and pulls out a pristine white handkerchief, offering it to Alicia with a gentle smile. "Here, Miss Alicia. Please, take this to clean yourself." 

[[OOC: Neither does Edmund, I am assuming this is the first time Edmund has spokem with Carlo and Alicia]]

Edited February 8 by MagnificentBastard

[IsabellaRose]

Even as the screaming and the rush for the exits finally settles into the past, panic still hangs in the air like smoke that refuses to clear. The gaslights cast uneven halos across overturned chairs, torn programs, and the dark, wet sprawl of blood soaking into the stage boards beneath Silas Ward’s body.

Now that she's up close, Missy sees the same thing that Alicia saw earlier. The wound is a clean cut made by a very sharp blade and a steady hand. It doesn't look supernatural, but then, what would differentiate a supernatural cut from a mundane one? When Missy asks about catwalks, one of the stagehands, quietly peering from behind the curtains at stage left, steps forward. He's a young man, clean shaven and dressed plainly, obviously here to work and not to enjoy the show. He points back from where he came.

"There are ladders on either side of the stage, Ma'am," he says to Missy, which Kojo can confirm. "But the catwalks no place for a lady, especially not in that dress," he adds, looking somewhat sheepish for having noticed her dress.

As if to punctuate his words, both Missy and Alicia hear a slow, rhythmic patter, as if a faucet somewhere were dripping. Their eyes settle on the source at once. Blood drips from the curtains above them, or perhaps even higher in the darkness. 

---

But before anyone can act on this newfound clue, bootsteps announce the next shift in danger. Three deputies push their way in through the chaos, badges gleaming, hands loose near their guns. They move without care, jostling people aside and stepping right through the pool of blood. One of them prods Ward’s corpse with the toe of his boot like an inconvenience. The smallest of them, a sharp-eyed, tight-lipped, weasel of a man they all know to be called Boone, takes charge immediately.

“All right,” Boone snaps, voice cutting. “Enough gawking. This here's what we call a crime scene.”

His gaze lands on Alicia first. He takes in her bloodied gloves, her dress as red as the spilled blood, her hands stained with it. Then he looks to Millie on the floor below, still shaken, still close. His gaze then drifts over Missy, lingering too long on her cleavage. He smiles thinly.

“You," he says, pointing to Alicia. "And you," he gestures toward Millie. "We're going to want to question the two of you, being up close in the front row and all.”

Another deputy chuckles under his breath and rests his hand on the grip of his gun in its holster.

Boone glances dismissively at Edmund and waves him off toward the exit without ceremony. “Sheriff’ll want this handled proper. Best you and your girlie here clear out." He gestures at Missy.

"Y'all don’t want to be compromising the evidence.” He says this with one foot in the pool of blood, his incompetence matched only by his arrogance.

[AsBloodTurnsEverCold]

It seemed the mess with Aldert was put on hold. Kojo knew it wasn't a permanent end but with all voices remaining turned against him at that moment it left no choice. Kojo continued to try and help Missy but Alicia's voice took his attention as she confirmed there was no chance to save Mr. Ward. Kojo shook his head "A good man was murdered today. Its a loss for everyone." and that was all Kojo could really say on it. Perhaps he could write Mr. Ward's epitaph to be preformed much latter. It was all Kojo could do to honor Mr. Ward but the truth was it was not as though they were friends. That was part of the sadness of it wasn't it? Perhaps if tonight had gone well Kojo could have gotten to know Mr. Ward. Who knew what life he left before it was ended? There was time for that later but for now Mr. Ward was just....a corpse. The night was dead. The thing that held his soul was unfed and there were no answers at that moment just a group of strangers and some suspicious circumstances that could have led anywhere. 

Kojo looked to Missy as she called his name and asked him about the stage. He'd move away from Millie, pulling his gloves off his hand to stuff in his pocket as he did so. His blue eyes looked upward "No ma'am no rooftop entrances. The boy is right, we have ladders." he confirmed to Missy in his deep tones. He was fairly certain there was no rooftop access. This place had an interesting make absolutely but he had never seen a rooftop to access this place from. He was curious too but as he looked along those who had an interest Missy and Edmund seemed the most interested in the phantom. He was too. He understood Missy's interest in a way. He'd listened to her stories before and this...figure. This legend was something she had spoken of before wasn't it? Didn't seem like a legend now. 

Kojo couldn't help but laugh a little bit at Edmund's words "That Lout? No more likely to figure this out than a blind dog." with a good hint of venom for the man they called Sheriff. He looked to Edmund again "Couldn't think of a worse way to meet a benefactor than in the midst of a murder." he chuckled lightly before he climbed onto the stage again as Edmund took a certain...tone with him to make sure everyone stayed for the sheriff. It was a little annoying but the situation was tense and Kojo had the same thought. The musician looked towards the young man "Gather the workers if you will young man. The deputies will wanna talk to all of you but don't let the ladies roam alone. Last thing they need today is-." Kojo's voice was gentler, more understanding at least before the doors were thrown open and the sound of heavy footsteps filled the hall. The acoustics of the hall were incredible. The Deputies. Kojo was worried about exactly them and for a good reason. 
It didn't take them long to prove why as their eyes focused hungrily on Missy. The air around them was as rancid as Thane's. Kojo took a deep breath "The Sheriff told you to send potential witnesses away? Sei nicht dumm...don't you need statements from everyone here? " he said. Truthfully he couldn't imagine Millie would be in too much trouble but Alicia? He didn't fancy her odds. 

Kojo looked to Edmund and Missy "Would you at least allow them to stay to help me with my instruments?" he asked trying to give them a reason to stay though he imagined Edmund himself would find one. He did contribute to it after all. This situation was no less tense than watching a man die. 

Edited February 10 by AsBloodTurnsEverCold

[IsabellaRose]

"It don't take a genius to figure it out," said Boone in response to Kojo's question about needing statements. He gestured to Silas' body, "this one got murdered," he turned and gestured to Alicia, "this one's wearing his blood. Seems pretty straight forward to me." 

He nodded to Millie down in the front row. "Billy here says these two was talkin before the show, so she's prolly an accomplice."

One of the other deputies, presumably Billy, stepped forward. "Thas right. Seen her with my own eyes jawin with the bloodsuck... er, suspect." He then turned his attention to Missy, yet another man staring at her cleavage and making no effort to conceal his lascivious stare. "This one talks at spirits, Boone. You think she's in on it? Maybe she called the ghost lady? Maybe we should bring her in, too."

The rumors about the treatment of women at the hands of Thane's deputies had circulated widely around town. "Handsy" was the kindest description, with much more serious transgressions whispered, despite no one coming forward to make any public accusations. 

[Chiyako]

When the gloved hand of one Missy Fisher touched upon Alicia's back there was an immediate reaction: a faint twitch of her shoulders and a rush of heat to her face, heat which traveled further up and collected within the tips of her slightly pointed ears. That at least was concealed by the hat, and the hint of fluster within her cheeks was directed towards the corpse. Affection was not something she experienced often, not even the little gestures that might otherwise come normally to others. She did not bring attention to it. By the time she had straightened up the signs had all but disappeared. It did at least allow her to offer a slight, genuine smile to Missy.

"I am unscathed. Thank you."

While investigation into the escape of the murderer commenced Alicia was offered a clean white handkerchief and a smile by one of the people she was most wary of: Edmund Blackwood. He had not wronged her in any manner. In fact his actions now were, as far as she knew, more or less on brand. He was a man who did not appear to be someone she needed to distrust. Her wariness was simply a matter of precaution, for Edmund was rumored to be a man gifted with the ability to seduce the hearts of others. That being one of her personally established weaknesses made him a threat, even if he did not know it. All that being true, her hesitation to accept the gift existed for another reason.

The blood on my hands alone will ruin the handkerchief. A shame. Although perhaps an experiment presents itself. I could test some solvents.

She struggled to hold the same smile she had offered Missy, not out of distaste for Edmund but rather because she was no longer surprised, and smiling for someone else was also not something that came completely natural to her. "And thank you, Mister Blackwood" Alicia finally replied, accepting the gift with her left hand, for it had remained the cleanest. While cleaning her dress or her gloves was a futile effort she could at least utilize it to pat away at the spots of blood lingering in the moment across her cheek. Her attention did not linger for too long upon Edmund, as the tell-tale dripping from above drew her gaze up towards the darkness.

Would the supernatural leave behind a pool of blood? Mister Carlo confirms that there are no rooftop entrances. If there are no rooftop entrances then the killer should still be within the building. A tether would take time to remove.

Mention was made of the sheriff and, more importantly, the deputies. Their reputation was almost as blemished as her own. Certainly not the sort of people she would wish to deal with in private. Only the fear of her actually being a Vampire might offer her some protection then. That or a few tonics, but then she might be required to relocate once more.

Speaking of the fiends.

As though summoned by thought alone the hard clacking of boots rang out across the auditorium. Three deputies had arrived. Crimson shades set upon the men as they approached. They were armed, as was to be expected, but with hands uncomfortably close. She winced as the crime scene was trampled upon, and gaze narrowed when Boone set his finger in her direction. His demand to question her was, unfortunately, the right call to make. He could even back it up with a proper reason.

"If the Sheriff desired a proper handling of this case then he might have sent more careful men" the bloodsoaked woman mused, waving with her free hand towards the boot printed pool at the deputy's feet. Antagonizing the deputies was not her objective, It was, however, amusing. Useful as well if it rustled their arrogance, for it would not be she that they would need to answer to for committing such a mistake, and that thought alone might at least put some fear into their hearts. Fear could be useful to her now, even if it wasn't fear of what people thought she was. But then that was not a crutch that she wished to lean upon either.

"Had you not allowed every other witness leave from the auditorium you might have questioned them. You still have witnesses present to corroborate my innocence. I stood in the front row while this man-" A pause for dramatic effect, and a wave of the handkerchief holding hand in the corpse's direction. "-was slain by a person on the stage. A person who ascended towards the darkness above. Darkness dripping now with this poor man's life essence. With haste you may very well catch the culprit. Mister Carlo has confirmed that there are no entrances to the roof. The killer may still reside within the building. And as for myself?"

Crimson orbs turned towards the edge of the stage. She paused again, not to make a point but rather because she was embarrassed to admit a truth. "I have difficulties ascending heights." Alicia was quick to correct herself, for clearly the three were not the brightest lawmen in the west. "The stage is too high. For me to climb upon it with haste enough to surprise this man, to deal him a fatal blow from the front, with a blade not even here in our presence, would be incredibly difficult, bordering on the impossible. I did climb, however, because I am a practicioner of the medical arts."

Even they have to answer to the truth. Surely that will be enough?

Spoiler

Alicia, believing in the power of knowledge and truth and science, intends to use the obvious truth to steer the focus of the Deputies away from herself and instead towards the investigation, or at least other directions of the investigation.

 

[WickedCadrach]

Missy felt the tight pull of frustrated urgency in her chest. Though they had never spoken, in the course of her meetings with Joshua Thane, she'd become acquainted with Billy and Boone's verminous little faces and beady, all-too-easy-to-read eyes. They were small men, dogs who played at being wolves from the cover of Thane's shadow. But Missy knew too well that trampling a small man's pride was much the same as treading on a rattler—as small and stupid a fight as it was dangerous. But they were here now, and as much as her pounding heart demanded she throw 'lady-like' discretion to the wind and mount the ladders to chase the rapidly escaping specter, the deputies had Alicia and Millie in their sights. 

Placing a hand on Carlo's shoulder, Missy allowed the barest flutter of regret to escape through those fingertips as she said softly, "Whoever killed Silas may be escaping through the catwalks. I have this." Her pale eyes turned meet Carlo's pressing the importance behind her words as her gaze flitted from one mystic-blue iris to the other. God, even the smell of him was like a mystery begging to be teased open. A line from Missy's childhood rose in a distant part of her mind, a pitch for one of Professor Whitty's tonics that included 'spices and temple incense from far-off Araby'. She'd never quite known what that entailed, only that it couldn't be the pungent mix of wormwood and marigold the old conman had used. And while it couldn't be bottled, the mingling cologne and native scent of the musician nonetheless became that scent in her mind.

It took a supreme effort of will for Missy to tear her gaze away, and feeling a small flush in her neck, she felt a blush of shame at being once again so easily caught up. Another time, she promised herself. Another time.

On 11/02/2026 at 07:31, IsabellaRose said:

One of the other deputies, presumably Billy, stepped forward. "Thas right. Seen her with my own eyes jawin with the bloodsuck... er, suspect." He then turned his attention to Missy, yet another man staring at her cleavage and making no effort to conceal his lascivious stare. "This one talks at spirits, Boone. You think she's in on it? Maybe she called the ghost lady? Maybe we should bring her in, too."

Stepping forward to place herself between Alicia and the deputies, Missy gave the men a teasing smile, putting on the inviting expression she sometimes used in more intimate meetings after her shows. She did not react to Billy's open stare. The deputies' eyes were not the organs she was worried about. When she spoke, her practiced voice came out smooth and clear, an intimate whisper that was at once perfectly audible to everyone on the stage, the perfect mixture of innocent cooperation and sultry implication.

"Deputy Boone, thank you for arriving so quickly. I'll be sure to mention your promptness to Joshua the next time I see him." The words were not as idle as they sounded. Fixing the man with a cool stare, Missy hoped the subtext was not too nuanced for the lecherous weasel: I know the Sheriff, remember? Tread carefully. Thane may not appreciate you being rough with his toys. 

"I can assure you Miss Alicia and Miss Gerenhart had nothing to do with the incident. There are, in fact, many witnesses who can confirm this. Mr. Blackwood, for instance..." Gesturing to Edmund, Missy slowed down to be sure the small man got the point, "Why, his word would be unimpeachable, don't you think?" Turning Edmund's way, Missy's voice lowered slightly, directing her next words to the casino-owner, "I dare say, we are all somewhat in your debt for being here to vouch for Miss Alicia's conduct." Missy had significantly more confidence in the older man's ability to read between the lines, a fact that nonetheless soured in her stomach as their eyes met and the unspoken meaning passed between them: Back up Alicia and I owe you. She did not care to be in Mr. Blackwood's debt, but the words came out reflexively, the protective feelings she had for the young woman making Missy far more impulsive than she liked.

Two favors in one night. Missy couldn't pretend the rumored-magician wouldn't call them in, but she also couldn't think of that now. Time was burning. 

Spoiler

OOC: So Missy's goals here are 1) back up Alicia's attempts to direct the deputies toward an actual investigation. 2) Get Edmund to lend his influence as well. If @IsabellaRose you want to call for any rolls, I think Missy's Velvet Voice distinction could apply to both situations here. I'm not sure if we'd use Missy's relationship with Alicia or Thane to influence Boone (the action is motivated by wanting to protect Alicia, but it leverages that Missy has a relationship with Boone's boss, Thane). 

 

Edited February 13 by WickedCadrach

[IsabellaRose]

  

Spoiler

OOC: Boone isn't going to fight back. He gives in immediately. Maybe because of Edmund, maybe because he's worried about Thane... 

“You heard her,” Boone barked, jerking his chin upward. “Billy. Carter. Catwalks. Now.”

Billy swallowed, looked from Boone to Missy, seemed genuinely disturbed by her and her potential powers, then looked back to Boone. He glanced at the rumored vampire, back at Missy, and apparently decided that the catwalks, while not necessarily safe with a ghostly murderess up there, were probably no more dangerous than staying down here with them. He gulped visibly and loudly, almost cartoonish, then nodded to Boone and scrambled toward the ladder. Carter, the second deputy, was close behind. Their boots rang against the metal rungs as they climbed into the shadowed heights where Red Jenny had vanished.

Boone grinned. He liked people following his orders. 

He planted himself directly in front of Alicia, hands resting loosely near his belt, posture casual but territorial. His gaze slid over Alicia  and lingered too long. Then it drifted to Millie.

“Lessee what they find,” he said, tone falsely patient. “Til then, you two ain't going nowhere.”

His expression shifted slightly when he looked at Missy, polished, almost respectful, if anyone could say he ever looked at a woman with anything approaching respect.

“Miss Fisher,” he said smoothly, inclining his head. “We’ll have this sorted. No need for concern. ”

The civility evaporated as soon as his attention returned to the other two.

His eyes flicked toward Edmund, who was near enough to matter but too powerful to provoke outright. Boone held the look for half a second too long, then broke it, choosing not to test that boundary.

He waited beneath the stage lights, watching the ladder, watching the women, waiting.

Edited February 17 by IsabellaRose

[MagnificentBastard]

Edmund smiles at Alicia when she takes his handkerchief, he turns to Missy with a confident smile, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and authority.

"I'm more than happy to vouch for Miss Alicia's character. We were all witnesses to the events of this evening, and I can assure you that her actions were above reproach. With that out of the way, I will, of course, comply with the sheriff's request to retire from the scene, would never dar to make your job more  difficult."

Says when he reaches the top of the stairs, he pauses, turning to face the sheriff once more. His voice carries a tone of arrogance and self-assurance, almost daring the sheriff to challenge him.

"However, before I do, I believe it's my duty to address a matter of some importance." 

Edmund's eyes narrow slightly, his expression one of calculated intensity. 

"Much like Miss Alicia and Miss Gerenhart, the girls in my stablishment are understandably shaken by the prospect of an unknown killer still at large. I fear their ability to perform their duties will be severely compromised until this matter it's settled to MY satisfaction"

He says a self satisfied smirk.

"Of course, I will do all I can to keep my girls happy and working. However my efforts would greatly benefit from your cooperation, if you were to keep me abreast of the investigation, I am sure I can convince them to continue to lavish you and the rest of the Sheriff's department with the same level of attention and care you have all become accustomed"

As he finishes speaking, Edmund leaves the stage entirely, ensurinh not to disturb any evidence, his eyes scanning the area with a keen awareness that suggests he is no stranger to such situations. 

"As for the rest of you, how do drinks at my stablishment sound? My treat of course"

[WickedCadrach]

Missy returned Boone's look with a performatively pleasant smile of her own. The deputy seemed sufficiently cowed, and as she nodded, face lowered, her eyes again flicked toward Edmund Blackwood. 

Something about the man continued to needle at her. Something in his words... his tone. From their previous exchanges and his poison-sweet attempts at luring her away from the stage at the Lincoln Palace, Missy  knew him for a cobra of a man... seductive and hypnotic in his own way but every bit as dangerous. It may be that his interest was exactly as it seemed on the surface: Murdering ghosts that keep people from walking the streets at night are terrible for a brothel. And yet, he'd come down personally. He didn't want the problem simply 'handled'. He wanted to be looped in and kept involved in the investigation. Why?

With the deputies taking control and the threat still lingering over Alicia and Millie, Missy knew she would not be able to search the theater the way she would like. Not tonight anyway. As much as the thought of accepting Mr. Blackwood's offer of drinks at the Golden Stag made her prickle with suspicion, she still needed to recover Jane from Edmund's clockwork manservant. And if there was a chance of discovering more about his motives here, it may be an opportunity she should not miss. And yet... the deputies had not yet released Alicia or Ms. Gerenhart.

"Mr. Blackwood, thank you. I would be obliged to accept your invitation. However, the deputies have not yet released these ladies. I would stay with them until they are." 

Missy bent low, her hand gently rubbing Alicia's back in soft reassurance. And turning to look to Carlo once more, she quietly asked, "Is there perhaps a shawl or cloak backstage that we can borrow? Until we can get Ms. Von Vulf cleaned up, I would spare her the scrutiny of wandering about covered in blood."

[Chiyako]

It was unfortunate that Alicia had been forced to take to the stage. She would rather have sat within the stands, observing what played out now from a comfortable distance, not because she was scared of the deputy or what might become of her now, but instead because as she was now, she was incapable of fully taking in all that was happening. A woman of science and curiosity, she would have rather been keeping an eye on the fascinating people gathered around her, even the three wicked men playing the part of lawmen. Alas, now she was nearly center stage, and much of her attention was stolen away by the deputies. It offered a closer look at this grotesque scene, perhaps, but that alone was not worth what she paid for it.

Speaking of having a good seat from which to observe, her view of her accusers was somewhat suddenly interrupted by a view of Missy Fisher's back. She had placed herself between them, and this had given Alicia pause. Part of it was to avoid saying something that could land the woman in trouble, for she had done nothing to deserve it. Much of it had to do with discomfort, or rather, her lack of experience with this sort of thing. Rare was the occasion that somebody stuck up for her, let alone risked themselves to protect her. Soft pink lips drew a neutral line while Edmund's handkerchief absentmindedly patted at the same crimson smudged spot upon her cheek.

Perplexing. How very perplexing. Why? What motive might she have? There surely must be something.

It was possible that she didn't desire anything at all from Alicia. Deep down she knew this. Still, it was foreign enough an idea to her that it seemed unlikely. It wasn't just a lack of an answer that made her uncomfortable. She was used to that, used to working on things she didn't understand, used to unraveling mysteries and researching new things. No, what troubled her most was a growing feeling of guilt. The guilt of having possibly drawn some innocent woman into the path of monsters masquerading as men.

Why would she do that?

But then Missy Fisher was not some simple innocent woman. Alicia had been curious about her, and now she had a chance to further discover up close what sort of person she was. Switching to the mindset of a researcher allowed her to push deeper the gnawing feelings of guilt. It allowed her to ignore, at least for the moment, the grasping thoughts that she might owe this woman something for her help, to put away any feelings that she might have endangered yet another reasonable person in her life.

Perhaps she knows what she is doing. This might be the sort of thing she is good at handling. Dealing with people is not my area of expertise, but it may be hers'. She seems confident.

Crimson gaze flicked briefly in the direction of Billy. She felt his gaze. Met it with her own. Lips curled up at the corners, offering a slightly open smile that revealed teeth, the sort that might be born by a predatorial monster basking in the fear of its prey. She watched him and the one named Carter only for a few moments as they departed. Her attention was drawn away, back towards Boone when he moved around Missy.

Face to face with the man, Alicia took immediate notice of his height. She was fairly petite, and most people seemed to tower over her. Not so with Boone. He was still taller than she was, but not by too much. She imagined that on better terms conversation with the man might have been a little more comfortable. In the moment however she could not afford pleasantries.

The same predatory smile she had flashed Billy remained set upon her lips. She kept quiet and did what she could to project confidence, to reinforce the idea that she might just be something not to be messed with. Her chin tilted up slightly, allowing her gaze to drop just a bit, as though she were looking down upon the man even if she was, in fact, looking up. Alicia's free hand, covered in a bloodied glove, settled at her side, fingers tapping softly against her hip. Alicia locked her eyes upon Boone's and refused to look away, refused to even blink. This was the sort of reaction she was used to, and this was often what she utilized as her initial shield.

Edmund addressed the lawman. She felt a faint pang of guilt, a light jab in her gut as he too spoke up in her defense. Given his status, and the fact that he was not a well-endowed pretty woman, Alicia didn't feel as though he was putting nearly as much on the line to protect her. All the same, he was still going out of his way to do so. Worse still, he was proving some of her earlier assumptions about him thus far incorrect. There were also the feelings that she might owe him something for his efforts, and those were especially worrying given the rumors about him. But then she knew first hand the folly of trusting rumor alone.

Ah. He is leaving?

Her eyes finally averted from Boone, turning instead towards Edmund Blackwood as he ascended the stairs towards the exit. Alicia's smile softened. Lost its predatory edge. He wielded the women under his employ as useful tools. A weapon. Given his business it was not any sort of surprise. She was hardly upset by it. They probably weren't his slaves. Perhaps their place in life had been taken advantage of, but that was common enough for most people. They simply paid for it in another way. Traded nights with men for their survival. No, what she was most concerned with was his leaving, the unsettling feeling that she might owe him in the future, and the realization that he held his thumb, or rather his women, over potentially the majority of the lawmen in this city.

Concerning. Why does he wish to be informed of this investigation? A matter for another time. I may have to extend my thanks.

Alicia's gaze lowered for a moment to the handkerchief in her left hand. Had he given this to her on purpose? Was it an excuse to speak with her again? A reason to call upon her to visit him, or perhaps a self made invitation to her own home? A kind gesture, certainly, and an action which fit into the guise of a gentleman. But if it held ulterior motives?

Clever, if so. I'll return it to its former glory regardless.

An offer was extended, an invitation to Edmund's establishment.

Perhaps I am overthinking this.

Such an offer might have been utilized by Missy to take her departure. It might have granted her safety from the lawmen. They would have held little excuse to keep her here. Alicia might have accepted the offer herself, were it useful to allow her leave from this place. Instead Missy declined, at least for the moment.

The faint heat of pink fluster returned again to her cheeks and the tips of her ears. Missy's hand had settled against her back. Alicia felt the warmth of it, felt it move, felt it rubbing in a gesture of comfort against her body. Eyes widened briefly. Shoulders tensed. The fingers at her side squeezed against her hip. When the initial shock of it finally passed she allowed herself to relax. The genuine smile she held before returned to her lips, faintly intermixed with the excitement and nervousness of experiencing something she was not used to. Her gaze lowered towards the floor.

Is it because I am short? I am no child. Surely she understands this? But then Humans generally share a propensity towards caring for smaller creatures. It must be something. I must figure this out.

It certainly wasn't the most uncomfortable mystery she'd sought to explore. Part of her figured that this was one of the tools that Missy wielded. She seemed to be good with people. Perhaps this was just part of how she had chosen to deal with Alicia. Comfort the little monster so that it did not bite her. Not only was it possible, it was probable. But then Alicia was a proper scientist. She would not fully decide upon a reason until she could be certain of it. Even Edmund, with the nature of the rumors which surrounded him, was given the benefit of the doubt.

"Tank you, Miss Fisher" the short blood soaked woman finally spoke, her voice soft, almost timid, and still recovering from the unexpected show of comfort. For that brief moment her accent had slipped, reverting to her native speech. "That would be well appreciated" she continued, speaking slowly so as not to allow herself another chance to slip up, turning her gaze for a moment towards Carlo, only to then remember the deputy's presence. "I assume this at least might be allowed, Mister Boone?" Alicia asked, finally addressing Boone directly. She ceded the conflict between them for now, no longer attempting to assert herself. She was in no position for it. Not legally, nor mentally.

[AsBloodTurnsEverCold]

Kojo knew how these men operated. He knew their boss for far longer than he had simply been the sheriff of this little town and he knew how much danger the girls were in with the eyes of the men on them. It was only the barest of pulls to do their jobs that had Boone sending his men upward towards the Catwalks where blood flowed, but he knew it was their usual demeanor that kept them locked upon the womenfolk with intent still. His eyes narrowed at Boone's reply but it was the gentle hand from Missy that stopped Kojo dead in his tracks. His cold blue eyes landed on her and the man would relent. Kojo was no fool and he knew that she was correct. He didn't move from his spot, merely loosening his bowtie around his neck as Missy did her thing and invoked some...connection to Joshua. That poor woman. He had no idea how close she might be to that monster but he could tell it wasn't a pleasant invocation. It was seconded swiftly by calling upon Mr. Blackwood. Money spoke. Power spoke. Kojo had money but he stood opposed to Thane and his cronies. Edmund, however, was closer to them. Kojo couldn't help but let out a silent chuckle. Missy was clever.  

Kojo's eyes just drifted upward. He was fairly certain he knew this place as well any other. He might not have owned the place but any good performer knew their mark but whether they'd find something he did not know. Someone had died up there. It was the only thing that made sense which meant there was another person to pay homage to when the time came. He waited nearby, prepared, even futilely to try and aid them should the deputies be so foolish as to cart them away. Edmund seemed to agree to whatever deal silent deal passed between them. It appeared, at least to Kojo, that Missy was also one to make deals with devils. He wondered why she might go so far but appeared they had all come down on the side of making sure Alicia did not suffer needless accusation for a murder she did not commit.  

He'd nod to Edmund "I think we could all use a drink Lord Blackwood."  

But of course another request from Missy for a cloak or Shawl and this...Kojo could do though he did not want to move away he nodded to her "Of course." he stated. Alicia, the poor thing, seemed to look to Boone for permission. Kojo would removed his tuxedo coat and drape it over Alicia "Do take this for now. I'll find something more suitable for you." he said before turning on his heel to move to the curtains. There was definitely plenty of shawls and cloaks Alicia could wear but if not then Kojo's coat would do just fine. He certainly had no intention of asking the Deputies for permission to do the right thing so he'd duck into the back to find something proper for Alicia. 

[IsabellaRose]

Edmund Blackwood departed the hall without hurry and without looking back. He had extended the invitation as if it were the most natural thing in the world - his casino would be open, the night would continue elsewhere, and those who wished for calm could find it there. Then he was gone, the weight of his presence lifting from the stage like a pressure change.

The shift was immediate.

Deputy Boone straightened the moment Edmund’s back disappeared into the crowd. Boone’s shoulders rolled outward and his chin lifted again. He stepped down off of the stage proper, boots thudding against the steps, reclaiming space with a territorial ease that returned to him the instant true power vacated the room.

“Right,” he said. He reached down and caught Millie under the arm, hauling her upright with a grip that was firm but not gentle.

“Up you go,” he said, brushing dust from her sleeve with an unearned familiarity before releasing her.

His eyes drifted toward Alicia again, lingering, but before he could leer properly, something caught his attention near the edge of the boards. Boone bent down. There, between scattered programs and a smear of drying blood lay a small, irregular fragment of metal. He picked it up slowly, turning it in his fingers. It was heavier than it looked, strange. It wasn't something from the theater, nor was it something he recognized.

“Huh,” he muttered under his breath.

From the far side of the hall, half-concealed in shadow, Willis Sloan saw it happen. He saw Boone lift the metal, saw him pocket it, knew that he didn't understand what he held. Willis’s face drained of what little color it had left. For a second he looked as though he might step forward, might say something, might claim it.... but instead, he did what he had already proven he was good at. He left. He slipped through the thinning crowd with a look that would have read as guilt to anyone watching closely. Boone never glanced up.

Above them, the sound of boots scraped against metal and Billy’s voice rang down first. 

“Sheriff! There’s blood up here!” There was a pause, the scraping sound of something dragged across iron.

“...and wires!” Carter called after him. “Whole mess of ‘em. Look like they was hooked to somethin’!”

Billy leaned over the rail and spat the truth plainly into the hall. "Shit, Boone. Ain’t no ghost done this... they’s bloody footprints up here.”

Boone’s jaw tightened. He looked from the catwalks to Kojo, then back to the stage as if seeing it for the first time.

“All right,” he called upward. “Stay put. Don’t touch nothin’!”

He turned to the three women gathered before him, Alicia streaked in blood, Missy steady, Millie shaken. 

“You all best clear out,” Boone said, jerking his chin toward the exit Edmund had taken. “Casino’s open. Least I know where to find you if I got questions.”

He turned and his gaze settled on Kojo.

“Not you.” He pointed toward the rigging overhead. “You know this theater. You’re stayin’. Maybe you can tell me what them wires was tied into.”

The stage now felt like not only a crime scene, it felt like the beginning of something much worse.

And somewhere beyond the hall, Jane Montgomery was being “protected” by Joshua Thane, out of sight, and very much unaccounted for...

[WickedCadrach]

As Deputy Boone pocketed the shard of metal, the flash of it caught Missy's eye. There was something odd about it, something in the way it caught the light. A twist in her stomach caught and stopped the urge to ask the deputy to show it to her before she could speak. That wouldn't do. Too much interest in the case would draw interest to why she was so interested. If it was evidence, he'd likely show Thane, and then Missy could ask the sheriff herself... 

Meaning I'd owe him another favor. 

As Carlo draped his coat over Alicia, Missy busied herself helping to settle the garment over the girl's shoulders, mouthing a silent thank you to Carlo as she did. It wasn't only for the coat—though the combination of Carlo's swift response and seeing the play of his arms in only shirt sleeves was certainly cause for thanks—it was also an apology. Deputy Boone's request that Carlo stay meant he would be delayed for drinks, if he even made the Golden Stag at all... With a regretful quirk of a smile, Missy's gaze lingered in Carlo's for just a moment more before she turned away. 

"Come, Miss Alicia. We don't want to be in the men's way while they're investigating. Miss Gerenhart?" Helping Alicia to her feet, she started toward the stage steps. "We need to get you out of these blood-stained clothes," she said softly. "I'm headed to the Golden Stag directly after, but I can wait for you to change if you're also taking up Mr. Blackwood on his invitation."

[Chiyako]

A drink. I wonder if they will offer me blood. More importantly, should I consume it if they do? It might be amusing to see their reactions. May be useful to stoke the rumor.

While Alicia did ponder the idea of a drink she also kept within the back of her mind the possibility that this might be a trap. The man supposedly capable of seducing most women would be far more dangerous within his own territory. Alicia was already at a disadvantage. Might the risk be worth it? But then there was also the alternative: returning alone to her home. Aldert was out there. Tonight would be a prime opportunity for him to strike. Who would be surprised if the woman accused of murdering a man on stage was herself discovered murdered in the night, and especially so when that woman was accused of being a monster?

I could request an escort home. But that would give someone an excuse to enter my home. Alternatively, accepting the invitation would allow me an excuse to observe other people within an environment I rarely visit.

Upon Edmund's departure the little deputy immediately regained any composure that he might have lost. It might have been a curious sight if it weren't more worrying. The short woman's gaze remained glued upon Boone as he moved away and off the stage. He had surprisingly moved to assist Miss Gearhart to her feet, displaying a moment of gentlemanly behavior that felt entirely out of place. When his eyes returned to leer in her direction she actually felt a little more comfortable, for that was at least expected.

Hm? What is this?

A brow arched while she observed Boone reach down empty handed, only to then return to standing holding some odd piece of metal. From where she was she could not tell precisely what it was. It did however seem out of place. Not a morsel of food, not any currency that she recognized, nothing that seemed to fit within a theater. Her interest might have been lost had the man not decided to pocket it.

Curious.

What she had seen was tagged as a note within her head, something of potential interest to explore later, albeit not with any sort of haste. Even if she wanted to, Alicia had to be careful about how she approached the man. He could abuse his power and arrest her regardless of the truth. He seemed like the sort who might do that. He might even do worse to her. It wasn't just her either. Others had stuck their necks out for her. Alicia was not the kindest person on the planet, and even she would not classify herself as someone who was altogether good or even honorable, but there were certain things that even she dare not betray. The trust and kindness of a stranger who had defended her, especially when it could only hurt them to do so, was one of those things. There were far too few people in her life to offer that. They were something to be cherished, collected, if not at least respected and, so far as it did not harm her, protected.

She might have caught sight of Willis Sloan had she not been distracted by something else entirely: Carlo's coat. The garment felt heavy upon her shoulders, but it also carried the man's warmth. For a moment it almost felt like a hug. It took a few moments for the guilt to register within her mind. Another piece of clothing had been almost assuredly stained by the crimson which covered her body. And yet even that thought did not fully push out the warmth that the coat provided, or the resulting faint heat that gathered within her cheeks. Arms crossed over her chest, hands gripping at each side in order to hold it closed.

"Thank you, Mister Carlo" she nearly whispered.

It smells like him. I grow warmer. What a curious reaction. No doubt a result of my chronic loneliness. Nothing more.

Her gaze turned back to watch the man depart. Alicia felt Missy's hands against her shoulders, correcting the way the coat settled over her much smaller body. It felt embarrassing, as though she were being treated like a child, but then it also felt kind of nice to be pampered for once. Crimson eyes turned up towards the woman for a moment as she considered what to say, only to be drawn away towards the catwalk above when the other two deputies made the exact announcement she had been anticipating.

Of course there is blood. And wires. This was not supernatural in nature. Good.

This time she did not meet Boone's gaze, although she did not need to. A smug toothy grin played across her lips. Her theory had been vindicated and Boone no longer had any good reason to hold her. If she were a child she might have stuck her tongue out at the deputy, but Alicia was a sophisticated young woman. No, that she would do internally and safe within the confines of her mind.

Her grin did fade when she realized that Carlo was being forced to stay behind, and when she realized that she would not be allowed to participate in the investigation. She would have liked to try her hand at this mystery, and certainly before the crime scene was further bungled by the inept deputies. Alas, she was in no position for any of that. Her freedom would have to be enough tonight.

Helped to her feet by Missy, the mostly fake Vampire offered the woman a quick nod of her head and, more importantly, a holding of her tongue. She could say things here. Should say things here. But she didn't. For Missy's sake, and for Miss Gearhart's sake, and even for Carlo's sake. Boone could keep his half victory. Resigning herself to a departure from the investigation, Alicia followed close behind Missy.

"I think I might take both of you up on that offer."

I do hope they have something in my size. Preferably not something that a child might wear.

[MagnificentBastard]

As Edmund strides into the Golden Stag, the opulent interior envelops him in luxurious and decadent embrace. The high ceilings are adorned with intricate wood carvings imprt3d all the way from London, casting a warm, inviting glow over the room. Plush velvet curtains frame the expansive windows, allowing a soft, filtered light to dance across the polished mahogany floors.

The air is filled with the gentle hum of conversation and the clinking of glassware, punctuated by the occasional jingle of spurs and the rustle of silk dresses.

Edmund's eyes scan the room, taking in the elegantly dressed patrons who move with an air of sophistication. The casino floor is a sea of green felt, where the clicking of ivory dice and the shuffling of cards create a symphony of chance and fortune.

Behind the bar, a row of crystal decanters and gleaming glassware reflects the flickering light of the gas lamps, offering a selection of the finest spirits from around the world.

As he makes his way through the crowd, Edmund is greeted by the soft, sultry notes of a piano, played by a skilled musician whose fingers dance over the keys with practiced ease. The melody is one of seduction and allure, perfectly complementing the atmosphere of the establishment.

Beautiful women, dressed in skimpy yet elegant outfits, move gracefully among the patrons, serving drinks and offering flirtatious smiles and much more for the right price. Their presence adds to the allure of the Golden Stag, creating an environment of indulgence and desire.

A particularly striking woman with hair like gold nd captivating eyes approaches him, her dress cut low to reveal her cleavage, and hands him a glass with a sultry smile.

"Your whiskey, Master Blackwood," she purrs, her voice a low, inviting whisper.

The soft whirl of gears signals the approach of TIAL-V, as he approaches his Master.

"Welcome, Lord Blackwood. I successfully escorted Miss Locke and Miss Cross back. I took the liberty to send them to your room"

"Excellent TIAL-V, you've outdone yourself," Edmund murmurs, taking a sip and savoring the smooth, amber liquid.

"Now, tell me, where is Miss Montgomery?"

TIAL-V's mechanical voice responds with a monotone delivery. "Miss Jane Montgomery has been taken under the protection of Sheriff Joshua Thane. He insisted on escorting her to a secure location."

Edmund's eyebrow arches in surprise, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features.

"Thane, you say? How... unexpected. Do we have a file on him?"

Spoiler

@IsabellaRose
I want to know if Joshua has ever been a client, if he has a tab/debt and if he has been violent to any of my girls.

[WickedCadrach]

Missy did her best to shelter Alicia as she led her through what remained of the departing crowd. Turning up the collar of Carlo's coat, Missy leaned in close over Alicia's shoulder, hoping to create a shield with the fabric and her own body against prying eyes. Trying not to alarm the smaller woman, she gave her shoulder a soft squeeze. 

"Don't mind them. Just stay close. They'll thin out a bit once we're away from the marquee." 

The night air drew a sharp sigh from Missy's lips as they left the stifling heat of the music hall behind. Warm bodies, talk, and gas lights all contributed to the oven-like oppression in the opulent atmosphere, but out here, in the streets of Prospect Junction, nights could be cold. With cool paving stones and indifferent earth beneath them and only the dead stillness of a sky too thrifty to offer any relief beyond the midnight dew yet to come, Alicia and Missy passed beyond the whispers and agitated talk of the confused and frightened crowd until the murmurs were softer than the pulse of their own steps. From her late-night conversations with Jack Beckett, Missy knew abstractly where Alicia lived and she turned her steps that way as she spoke. 

"That was brave of you," Missy said, allowing herself to straighten up and release some of the protective posture she'd had over the other woman. "You have good instincts. Trying to leap up and help him. Not everyone does that. Least-wise when violence has been done. I've seen men freeze up at the sight of another man catching a stallion's hoof. You saw a man's throat opened and got there fast enough to make a mess of yourself in the process." Missy's lips fell into a soft frown. Tugging a little at the blood-stained garment by her black-gloved fingertips, her eyes fell as well, the expression neither one of disappointment nor disapproval. 

It was fear. The soft fear of knowing when tragedy is coming before its shadow reaches the doorstep.

"You may want to suppress those good instincts of yours," she added quietly. "They nearly got you lynched tonight."

Spoiler

Since we haven't seen @StarlitSiren in a bit this might be a good moment to have Millie break off? I'm happy to keep her tagging along (or to retcon and say she was if Siren does come back.

Also, @Chiyako feel free to decide how close we got to your home before this conversation happened. 

 

[IsabellaRose]

On 06/03/2026 at 11:03, MagnificentBastard said:

 

  Hide contents

@IsabellaRose
I want to know if Joshua has ever been a client, if he has a tab/debt and if he has been violent to any of my girls.

Thane owes no debts to the casino. He rarely if ever gambles and when he does he either wins or only gambles what he has on him and never carries a debt. It is rumored that his family has very deep pockets. 
He has never been rough with any of the women working at the Stag, but rumors of his cruelty to women abound despite a lack of any proof, and two women went missing since he’s arrived in town, reportedly last seen with Thane, but no one has ever come forward with actual accusations or evidence. 

[AsBloodTurnsEverCold]

Kojo watched Boone pocket something he picked up off the ground curiously. It had an odd look to it, a strange shine? Was it some poor woman's broach? Some unfortunate gentleman's pocket piece? He had no idea but he was certain the Deputy would attempt to pawn later. It wasn't his concern for now but...something about it did concern Kojo. The man pushed it away as she helped smooth his coat on Alicia, not concerned about the stains it was likely collected from the blood that adorned her. Kojo wasn't worried about the coat and only turned to look at Missy. His strange eyes locked on hers for a moment as he returned the nod and to Alicia as she thanked him quietly for the coat. He chuckled "You ladies do get home safe and be careful at the Golden Stag. The lights of the Saloon doesn't make gentlemen of beasts." but he could at least be sure they'd be away from these fools...for now. Kojo was staying though and with Alicia covered and the ladies off he'd stand up and put his hands on his hips. 

"Now gentlemen. Lets take a look at those wires." he said hoping they didn't keep to much attention on the ladies as they left. He'd have to collect his coat from Alicia later but for now he was complying with the law and made his way over to the ladder. He undid his bowtie in the meantime and shoved it into his pocket as he moved over to the ladder at the side of the stage and started to climb up to the catwalks. He wasn't sure what all was happening here. If there was blood it meant either someone else died up here or whatever they were dealing with was no ghost....but ghost or not someone did die. It was no less dangerous and whoever this phantom was had to have known how to navigate right? 

Once up to the catwalks he made his way over to the wires to get a good look at them. He was familiar with this theater and everything in it. A musician knew their grounds. They knew the acoustics, and what every part of the performance did. He looked around, ignoring the needy hum that was growing more oppressive on the stem of his brain to see if he could make a good deduction of what might have happened up here and why these wires were covered in blood. 

-------------------------------------
 

Spoiler

@IsabellaRose
Do I need to roll anything to notice something off? 

 

[Chiyako]

Alicia held her tongue still as the two made their departure from the music hall, offering Carlo yet another gracious nod of her head briefly before they exited the doors out from the hall and into the cramped and noisy reception area. As they pushed through the crowd she felt herself slip further and further into an honor debt with Missy Fisher. She was quite literally shielding the short woman from the crowd. Comforted the little monster with a squeeze against her shoulder.

How pleasant.

Whispered rumors persisted of course, the sort of things she was all too familiar with. It had been her fault. She had murdered the man. The Vampire had lept upon him and drained his blood right there on the stage. But there were other whispers abound. Police ineptitude. Cries for refunds. And for once, she wasn't even the main target of people's negative reactions. A ghostly killer had thankfully stolen the spotlight from her.

She didn't need to be told twice. Alicia was more than happy to stick close to Missy as they pushed their way through the crowd, and once they reached the outside she drew in a sharp breath of chilled air. It was refreshing, especially given the coppery scent which clung to her clothes and which had, until now, dominated her senses. Another minute passed as the two stepped quickly away from the crowd. Alicia felt herself turned towards the direction leading to her home. Save for the occasional clacking of shoes against cobblestone roadways and the steadily dulled conversations of the slowly dispersing crowd, the night was rather quiet.

That is much better.

Crimson orbs drifted up and to one side, turned towards the taller woman while they pressed on. She was trying to decide what to say when Missy instead took the initiative. As Missy complimented Alicia she also returned to her some of her personal space. It was certainly appreciated, although she would have been lying to herself if she had said that she wouldn't miss the comfort of having someone closer. To request that would have been too much. Missy had already done so much for her tonight, and it would have been far too embarrassing a task.

Fight or flight. Well honed from a life on the run.

"It is a medical practicioner's duty to tend to the wounded" she decided to reply. "Any good doctor would have done what I did."

Not that I am a morally good doctor, but I am a good doctor. A great doctor!

"You are right. I should be more careful. But then I am used to people trying to lynch me. Doing nothing will do little to protect my neck from the gallows."

She paused for a moment. She decided Missy was perhaps not the sort of person to be frightened her. She decided upon a quick little experiment, a joke even, and offered a sharp toothed smile towards the woman.

"Or perhaps I should say that it would not protect my heart from a wooden stake."

Her attention was drawn away as they crossed into an intersection, pulled ahead and to the right. A long, old, cobblestone road diverted up a gradual incline towards an old mansion surrounded by a simple stone wall. Her home, perched atop a tall hill which dominated the western edge of the young city, lay at the end of that road. Even from where they were it could be seen. She turned to take the road and grew a bit more wary of her surroundings. A few shops closer to the intersection faced into the long road, but about a third of the way up saw the edge of the city, with some thin stretches of wooded areas splitting her home from the city proper. Hardly enough to get lost in, but enough for a few unscrupulous men to take shelter within.

If I were to ambush me it would probably be there. However. . .

While they ventured up the gentle slope of the road Alicia returned her attention to her companion. Missy's presence might deter others from acting. Or it may end up pulling her into something she didn't deserve to be party to. Alicia felt guilty enough as it were.

"You might wish to leave me here. I would rather not sully your reputation, or risk your getting harmed. People might have something to say about the young woman who involves herself with a monster."

[IsabellaRose]

Above the stage, Kojo moved carefully along the narrow iron catwalks while Billy and Carter hovered nearby, lantern light trembling across beams and ropes. The air smelled faintly of grease and dust, the ordinary scent of stage machinery... except for the addition of the scent of blood. Carter pointed to the prints, which were unmistakably a woman’s heeled shoes, small and narrow. They began directly above the place where Silas Ward had fallen and continued toward the junction where two catwalks met.

Just before that junction hung the first real revelation. Suspended in the darkness was a stage harness, the sort used in flying acts and theatrical illusions, but of a make unlike any owned by the Rebirth Hall. Thin cables, almost invisible, held it aloft. Kojo had to squint to follow them as they ran upward through a series of compact pulleys mounted in the rafters. Whatever material they were made from, it was not the thick rope or common steel used by the theater crew. These lines could have hauled a body upward in seconds, lifting whoever wore the harness straight into the darkness above the curtains while remaining all but invisible to anyone watching.

The bloody prints continued. They led toward the meeting point of the catwalks where another clue had been left behind. There, sprawled across the metal grating, lay a bundle of heavy round wires, thick cables terminating in enormous round plugs of unfamiliar design. All of the plugs had been gathered together in a tight cluster, as though they had once been connected to a single device that had since been removed. Kojo could see where the cables ran afterward, threading upward into the ceiling and spreading out in every direction, vanishing into the rafters like the strands of a vast mechanical web. Whatever had been here… it had not belonged to the theater.

Below, the hall had grown quieter as the crowd thinned. Deputy Boone lingered near the stage when a new presence arrived beside him, cool and composed. Kirsa Autenrieth stepped forward with the ease of someone who expected obedience without raising her voice. She took in the scene in a single sweep of her eyes before looking upward toward the catwalk.

“Mr. Amankona,” she called calmly. “You have done quite enough.” Her tone was not hostile, but it carried the unmistakable authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed.

“Please come down now and leave the investigation to the professionals.”

 

- - -

Across town, the Golden Stag Casino glowed with warm lamplight, its velvet and polished brass a stark contrast to the chaos left behind at the music hall. TIAL-V stood beside and a step behind Edmund Blackwood, posture impeccable, voice calm as ever while he delivered his report.

“Regarding Sheriff Joshua Thane,” the automaton said, hands folded behind his back. “He has held the position for approximately one year. Publicly, he is regarded as a decisive authority figure with strong support among the rail interests and the mining syndicates. Privately, however, there are numerous reports, unsubstantiated but persistent, regarding his treatment of women in his custody or under his protection.” The automaton paused before continuing with clinical precision. 

“There are allegations of intimidation, coercion, and forced compliance. None have resulted in formal charges.” He tilted his head slightly, as if accessing another layer of information.

“Two women in particular are worth noting. Both disappeared within the last three years. Both were last known to have been under Sheriff Thane’s supervision shortly before their disappearance.” He took another brief pause. “My analysis places the probability that Sheriff Thane is responsible for their disappearance at sixty-three percent.”

Within moments of the report being delivered, the doors of the Golden Stag opened again, admitting another visitor. Aldert Helsink entered with several men right behind him. He paused by the doorway as if for dramatic effect, and then approached Edmund with the poise of a nobleman entering a drawing room rather than a saloon. His men remained near the door or headed toward the bar. He inclined his head in a courteous bow, one hand resting lightly over his chest.

“Mr. Blackwood,” he said in a smooth European accent, “permit me first to extend my apologies for the… unpleasantness earlier this evening.” His eyes flicked briefly toward TIAL-V before returning to Edmund.

“You must understand that my actions were motivated entirely by concern for the safety of this town. The young lady in question is… dangerous. Far more dangerous than she appears.” He spread his hands lightly, as though offering a simple truth. “But do not worry. I will prove it to you before I make accusations again. In time you and everyone in this town will understand my caution and my hunt. When you do, you will gladly assist in ensuring that such a creature is handled properly.”

His smile was courteous. “And permanently.”


- - -

On the road toward the hills where the wealthy had built their homes, the night air carried the scent of dust and pine from the hills beyond the town. Shadows pooled between buildings where lantern light did not quite reach. One of those shadows shifted. Jack Beckett stepped forward from the mouth of an alley, tipping his hat politely as Alicia and Missy passed.

“Begging your pardon, Miss Alicia,” he said quietly, gesturing toward the dark line of trees just up the hill. “But there’s men waiting just inside them trees… and they don’t look too friendly.”

His eyes flicked down to Alicia’s blood-stained dress, going momentarily wide. “Are you both all right?” His eyes took them both in, and when it seemed that they were both actually fine, he let himself breathe. But still, he hesitated, clearly unaware of the incident at the music hall. “What happened?”

Then he straightened slightly, determination settling in his posture. “And… how can I help?”