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Post by LOTTIE THATCHER on Jan 27, 2012 0:02:52 GMT -5
The woman was already dead. The pallor of her cheeks, and cold skin was more than evidence of that. She didn't look like she'd died of anything catching, and as such, her items were free-for-grabs.
Lottie looked carefully around before pulling the shawl off the woman's shoulders and wrapping it around her own. It went around twice, a thing the frail girl was more than a little grateful for. If she thought she could get away with stripping her skirt from her she would, but the coin purse she had in a pocket, and the necklace she wore, simple as it was, were too much for her to pass by. The coin purse disappeared somewhere amongst Lottie's clothing and she carefully began to extract the necklace and then wondered what else was there.
Greed or desperation drove her. Perhaps a bit of both, to linger longer than she had any real sense to. Someone would be along. Someone would notice. And if social class held true, Lottie would be blamed regardless of facts. She was there. The woman was there. She was alive, and the woman was dead. She clearly had items upon her person that did not belong to her, and as such, it could be drawn in loose logical lines that Lottie had killed the woman.
Footsteps echoed, and Lottie's head shot up, panic clear on her face. She turned to flee, managing only a few steps before looking back. A mistake, for she ran headlong into a solid object as her body and trajectory had shifted with the turning of her head. Knocked backward, and onto her poorly padded rump, Lottie let out an ill fated cry of pain before she could silence herself. Was it too late to hide? Would she be found?
Crawling immediately under a bench and hoping to shimmy across and to the other side without notice, Lottie held her breath and began to move again. Her heard thundered in her ears and she knew that if she had to run again, the odds were against her at being being caught.
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Post by CORA ANNE MAYFAIR on Feb 4, 2012 20:20:53 GMT -5
Cora was pleased at her luck in finding a new victim so quickly, especially one as drunk and dazed as this one. He would not remember what happened in the morning and she had not given him a clear view of her face. She was safe.
She had dressed down and knew what the man wanted and tried to suppress at a laugh at his hope. The smell of cheap alcohol on his breath was strong, but her hunger was a more powerful influence.
She ran her hand down his cheek and ghosted a finger down his throat. She could feel the blood pumping. So sweet, so close...
But then he stumbled and fell. She would have only been exasperated at his clumsiness if it hadn't put his warm blood further from her. Getting closer to help him up she heard more clearly the blood pumping in his veins and...another noise. She heard whatever it was scurrying around, probably trying to hide.
The brunette could have growled in irritation. She had her blood for the evening, but a potential witness might ruin it for her. It would be best to get the witness to go someone else. She needed privacy.
The cry of pain. Yes, it was another person. Why could it not have just been a cat? A cat was nothing to be concerned with in this matter.
She began to walk slowly over to where the person was, but stopped when she saw a woman's body. A murder, perhaps?
She advanced slowly and found the little girl, clutching a necklace and wearing what had been the woman's scarf.
She would have assumed the girl had done it for the things, but the look on her face killed the thought. She did not look the type.
"I think if I were you," she told the girl. "I would leave soon. There are no night patrol too near. If you leave now, I'll give you a crown. There is pawn shop ten blocks down for you to sell the necklace. Well, what will it be?"
She took out the coin and held it out for her to see. "Better act quick."
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Post by EZRA WARD on Feb 5, 2012 16:18:24 GMT -5
Desperation filled the blackened air as a young man walked through the grimy streets near Windshire station. His cloak was a tan brown jacket with his visor being that of a striped black and grey cap in the semblance of a yet to be written fictitious detective. Eagle pearl blue eyes dart this way and that as he walked through these streets in the hope to catch his late evening meal. A single flicker from within his cloak reflect the lamppost light giving out the man's attentions of who he was. This commonly drew hostility from society's rejects like a bait to the hook, allowing the man to catch another fish.
'Either they are getting smart or I'm getting rusty,' thought Ezra as his leather boots plotted and splashed. Faces popped on through his strolls, masks of desperation, hunger, and anger. They were no different from the nobility of london who wear their own masks to hide their true nature. Even Ez would play the game himself and place on a mask himself. A flash of his father flashed through his mind for an instant. He stopped and frowned at being reminded of that disgusting man. He too wore a mask but it was his son who saw through that.
Being reminiscent on the past was something the young inspector disliked about himself. Shaking away such thoughts, a familiar scent permeated the air. Such a familiar stench that usually filled these streets but this one was very fresh. Walking at a brusque pace and purpose, Ezra followed both the scent and his own instincts which told him one thing. Someone had died.
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Post by LOTTIE THATCHER on Feb 7, 2012 22:08:56 GMT -5
The steps got closer and the girl under the bench held her breath. There was danger, and she knew that, but she couldn't flee without being noticed further. But it was already too late, and Lottie hadn't known. Hadn't thought... and yet.
She'd been spotted, and the moment she knew the woman had seen her, Lottie began to plan how to get free of the woman. A heel planted with even her slight weight atop the arch of a foot would do enough harm to give her a head start, but she would have to get out from under the bench first, and make sure that her own skirts didn't hamper her flight.
There were ways. She just had to be able to do them.
Lottie's face was set with resolution as the woman spoke to her, offering a crown. A CROWN. A whole crown just for leaving.
It felt like a trick. A lie, but a crown. It would feed her for a while if she was careful. Or better, get her more matches to sell. And with the information about the shop that would take the necklace...
Slowly, her eyes on the woman's face, Lottie pulled herself out from under the bench and crouched for a moment, trying to decide.
At the woman's insistence that she needed to act quickly and the crown as it was held out enticed her further.
Balanced on the balls of her feet, she reached for the coin only to snatch her had away again as the sound of yet more footsteps echoed.
Was it too late? Whirling on the pads of her feet, the urchin sought a place to hide, the steps were too close for her to flee properly, and the necklace disappeared somewhere into the folds and tears of the skirt, presumably to a hidden pouch, but her eyes were wild with fear. It had been a mistake to try for the dead woman's possessions, but she had needed that extra bit of warmth.
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Post by CORA ANNE MAYFAIR on Feb 9, 2012 19:18:57 GMT -5
She saw the girl's eyes focus on her and deliberate whether she should take the offer. Probably thought it was too good to be true. But, Cora had been desperate and offered the first amount of currency that came to her mind.
It felt like it had been forever when the girl finally held out her hand for the coin.
But then, the both of them heard the sound of footsteps.
This was absolutely maddening! Why was it proving so difficult to get a meal?! She knew the girl would have taken her bribe and advise and left her in peace. But now, this intruder was further ruining her chances of feeding.
She sighed and turned around to face the person coming while the girl found a place to a hide. She could not see the figure close up yet but had a feeling it was a detective. Hopefully, it could be one that she could bribe to leave. Then she could give the girl what she offered her and do what she came to do. Since the drunken man was now passed out, it was the perfect opportunity.
However, if it was an idealistic one...That was not a pleasant thought. If the detective saw the dead woman, he would most likely have her interrogated and she just did not have the time or patience for that.
She could tell him that she thought the girl had done it. The girl had been there with a dead body and had been taken possessions of the deceased. She could, but she would not. The girl had just had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She had been punished enough by having the position of poverty thrust onto her.
She hoped that she could get this infuriating business over with quickly.
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