An English Night

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

Percival: Percival deduced the strike to the man's head was enough to induce a fracture. Using the brunt of his elbow, the man crumbled from the strike leaving a window for Percival to stumble over his body and lean heavily upon the railing. High up on the stair well gave Percival an odd view when he looked down. Akin to a spiral, the stair provided an obscured view of every level going down save the bottom floor sixteen flights down. His eyes narrowed frantically as heheard the scuffed steps taken by the assailant who quickly descended the steps. He jerked his head right, catching a brief glimpse of the man's bloodied hand gripping the rail. A floor down! Percival's grip on the rail tightened and his knees flexed before sending him airborne. Up and over he went, using the momentum gathered from his hands to launch him straight across the chasm and down one level. This feat was not flawless, nor was it painless as when his body connected with the rail, he cried out in pain. Instinct made his hands grip the rail, and determination drove him to pull himself up and land in a jumble on the stairs. His ribs hurt, and it temporarily blinded him to the fact his 'man' had gotten a bit further. Scrambling to his feet, but wobbily, he leaned upon the railing and began to give chase. His steps were taken in a stumbling fashion, but one that retained speed just not grace. Their trek broughtthem to the bottom of the stairs where the obscured view panned out to a crowded room of nobles. Each busy with their own accords, they were knocked off track by the man running from Percival. Several were left on the ground confused, and utterly clueless as to who just passed them by. Percival continued his tracking, stumbling over the bumpy path of nobles the man left in wake![d]

Claramae: Sixteen flights of twisted, twining stairs served as but one feature that upheld a new English gem, simply known as The Proper. It was to be, allegedly, the most fantastic library in the country. It was, supposedly, going to rival the library of ancient Alexandria, or the collection of old scripture in the various churches, etc. The insertion of ad nauseum was from the mouths running between sips of Bordeaux wine or tongues tired of twisting over the out of season quail, brought from an island for the occasion. Amidst the occasion was an air of crime that quite literally lurked over their heads. Down, down it spiraled. Down, down it came to the attention of an individual remaining an astounding six paces ahead of the common mind. "Oh Pish." She filtered it in to the conversation with a member of the House of Lords, " with these years, it is better to include he House of Commons among the House of Lords insteadof the old illusion one has power o'er the other. It is in this that the government now upholds, and your words reach me with a sense of..ease. Why, the military has certainly noticed an improvement. The works of military men stored here, therein, even the Commander finds it much better." One eye, the left, swept only an eight of he way up while the other followed only shorter, as if to give the illusion she soughter a porter for another glass of wine. "Oh my lord, is this your new rosewood walking stick. May I? I have long since admired the qualities of this particular wood. Ah, it is a beautiful creation. Africa, you say?" She moved the party away from the most advantageous path for the Inspector to utlize while going on about the qualities of a blasted tree. Ah well, duty to state while assisting the family! Lady Govenor would lean the implinet to the grown just in time for the nobility to become slack jawed at he interruption in their midsts. His 'man', thus tripped up on the stick, turned while the Lord of course pulled the Lady Govenor away from the rabble! Naturally, he would trip clear into the door jam of one of the still empty rooms. Thank God, couldn't have one filled with treasures sullied up now could they? (d)

Percival: The man tripped and slid across the polished floor where his body connected with the frame and bent to favor its shape. He had cried out in pain and surprise, but it did little to halt his attempt at escape. Driven by an innermotivation to get away, he scrambled to his feet and turned to face a window. Without any hesitation, he ran toward it and leaped through.-- Behind him, Percival was running with a limp, and a hand on his ribs. His expression was a pained one, but he was clearly thinking. He saw the nonchalant collaberation his sister provided, however it seemed little enough to help. He stepped over a body, shoving the noble back down so that the distance to the room could beclosed. The man moved quick, and Percival arrived in time to watch this man throw his body through a window. Percival staggered to the broken edge and peered out to watch the man's descent. There was a loud splash, and he saw the man had survived the fall to land in the cold water below. Percival turned from the window then, unfastening the stylish cape and dropping his utility belt which had his effects attached. They all clattered around his feet, revealing a nimble, well dressed man. He took a moment to glance toward Claramae, who had been pulled back by the nobles she entertained. No words were exchanged, and he turned from her to run toward the window. It was a brilliant feat he pulled, and one that required some mastery of physique. Legs lifted to vault over the sill, and he plummeted to the water below. Percival bent his body in a great display of skill, curving to dive downward until his body hit the water below![d]

The Visitor:She never cared much for new places. Being raised single handedly by a father who dragged her around just as he had his merchandise allowed her to see all kinds of lands and people. However, just like the constant consuption of one's favorite food, it gets old. That caramel skin would surely be marvaked by the ivory skinned English as all eyes stared at her. No, she wasn't from Asian and this apparent trait would cause a riot of whispers and murmurs. So what if she stood out like a sore thumb, it was rude to stare. She lowered her head, long brown hair cascading off of her shoulders, their ends twisting as they reached their length. Her feet were bare, making her steps silent on the cobble stoned roads. Golden hues peered from that oval face covered with smudges of dirt. Suddenly, all eyes shifted their gaze from her to the sound of shattering glass. Thank God. The young woman slipped from the words, walking quickly down a dim alley. That light brown fabric that she had drapped over her curvacious body swayed with each hurried step she took. She had no idea exactly where she was heading, but anywhere sounded better than being caught in a sea of ivory faces. -d-

Claramae: The new can be entertaining if one wishes to take up an adventure. She was pulled away from her brother's current 'work', almost with an interior sigh. For the sake of notice she did not make it heir apparent that had the man come careening into her person, she would have disabled him promptly. It would be hard to tell if that or Percival's rousing chase through the festivity would be more disarming. While the Inspector swanned dive through the beautiful window of the Proper, Lady Govenor took notice of new arrivals whom had not been before. Hazel eyes became flecked with gold in her point of observation. A new color appeared amidst the various states of English palor: a rose blush, a peach tone, an ivory, an alabaster, to find the sun amidst the soiree of clouds. Ah, there would be the occasional shadow. Take the ambassador from Northern Africa, for example, though he more elected to blend into the corner. Or a man or three of the islands with their golden wives. But she, in her place amidst a white sea was the shore they flitted around. Where was she going? It was a question that wanted an answer. After she was stood up she thanked her 'galant rescuer' and proceeded on to figure just that. "Goodness, tis as if the govenor is one place, only to appear in another!" and how! Beyond the soiree went the nervous addition and twoards an alley. Secretly, the Lady was thrilled. Silly as it might seem, she missed the occasional darkened alleyway. "You should be mindful," she said "Of adventuring such places at such hours. Tis a matter of safety, for a woman at times." (d)

Percival: Having fallen several meters down, Percival only recalled the sound of air as it rushed past his ears to make his dark black hair wave wildly. It all ended when he sank beneath the surface of water. Everything was silent and Percival lingered underneath, shocked from the sudden temperature change. Forcing his body to move, he stroked to the surface, emerging with a gasp for air. He looked for the docks, watching as the man pulled himself onto them and began to run away. Percival started to kick, feeling the burn in his muscles from the extra weight wet clothes brought on him. It took him several moments to reach the docks, and by that time his target had gotten away. Struggling to breath, he plopped both sleeved arms onto the wooden surface of the dock, and used them as leverage to hoist himself out of the water with a loud grunt. He laid there afterwards, staring skyward as if to try and center himself.[d

The Visitor: "Lets get lost." She whispered the words to herself, a slight smirk possessing those plump pink lips. She was definitely exotic. Golden hues wandered the littered alley, a soft sigh escaping her, as boredom hung over her.Maybe it wasn't a good idea to wander away from her father. Her quest for adventure was then brought back to life by the sight of that dark not-so-welcoming door. Golden hues brightened with excitement as she neared it, delicate hands resting lightly on the cool door with hopes that it was open. Guess she was lucky. But, just as she was about to enter the unknown, the echo of the woman's voice would frighten her. Was she in trouble? Probably. She didn't know if this woman was here with the intent of returning her to her father. She didn't want that. So she ran, slipping in the welcoming darkness of the room that was revealed. Pupils dialated once she was engulfed by the shadows, her breath quick as her heart pounded in the containment of her chest. "Please.." The words were almost a cry as she blindly moved through the darkness. -d-

Claramae: "Good eve----" One step forward for her was the girl's retreat into the dark. An open room was her escape, but no succor to find as the light of even the moon was absent here. She twisted, turned. What was it she bumped? Table, shelves? The Govenor would find the irony of how familiar the scenery was. A girl whom was different, dashing into a dangerous English alley for adventure only to turn head long into a dark room with no clue as to what lay ahead ."How familiar.." It was not her style from days of yore, yet mirrored it. Ah, but she was not trying to harm the girl. If her father were within the Proper he could be a man of state. If he were outside of the Proper, he could be some merchant or some visiting something or other. While the girl dashed away, she merely turned upon her heel to follow. Sounds of Percival's wet thought process were nigh, and of that there would surely be conversation later. Bah. Such nights made it hard to retire. For the sake of appearing less ' frightening' , a singular glow would appear at the beginning of the room from a solitary candle poised in the hands of an ivory woman she'd fled from. "Come come, I mean you no harm. I know now not your name, nor what you are doing in the Proper, let alone why you flit about in darkened alleyways. Now in dark rooms? Which is it you please for? if it is light, I have the candle you know." Staunch and firm the voice, but not menacing. Low enough to be non confrontational, firm enough to give instruction. "Please now, my dear, here is my entreaty. I am entirely too old to be playing hide-go-seek. Come come, let us do this properly.: (d)

The Visitor: At the sound of the woman entering, she hid, tucking herself somewhere between two pieces of what felt like wood. It felt as though she was between a book case and a wall, but she was too terrified to care. Her eyes closed tightly as she listened to those promising words that slipped from the mouth of the woman. Deja Vu. Those words promising no harm where the identical to the words her now father, then a strange man, had spoken to her. And because she was so gullible, she listened to him. Now here she was, a foreigner. "Please don't hurt me!" She spoke with an accent, her little pink tongue rolling the r's as each word she spoke seemed to roll into the next. -d-

Claramae: "If that were to have happened, it would have happened quite some time ago. Now come, out with you." She walked to the right, pulled on a braided rope. Suddenly the room was filled with the sound of clicking, striking flint pieces, wax igniting, and oil lamps offering their aroma. Let their be light, upon the seventh night since the Proper was constructed! She walked forward on feet that gave no sound with thick skirts that did little else but sway with body motion. She still held the candle in her hand, approaching the place where book cases began. The sigh issued was enough to echo across a cave, showing her evident disproval. "I am staying in place, and I am holding a uselessly burning candle while we are in a room filled with light. I could uncover you, should I wish, but that would be terribly impertinent." (d)

The Visitor: The young woman gulped as she peeked from the behind the book case at the woman. Her hues quickly shifted from her to the floor as the rest of her body emerged from hiding. Her fingers twistedwith each other as she stared at the floor, not really sure what to do with herself. -d-

Claramae: Success was at hand when the little run-away revealed herself, nervous, anxious, but accounted for. Only then did she step a little more forward, looking over the wayfarer with the usual set of questions ."Are you the daughter of one of the members in parliment, a visiting dignatary, a merchant, or neither, but either of which still seeking some sort of adventure away from a guardian? Otherwise, I can not imagine what persuades you to go without shoes in the middle of winter and into darkened alleys. Really, at that rate my dear you might as well go for a swim in the Thames while it is frozen." She tilted her head, awaiting the requisite set of answers. And Percival thought he was persuing a mystery. Haha! (d)

The VisitorThe words the woman spoked confused her. Golden hues looked up to her, lips parting for words to be spoke. She hesitated, not really sure what to say. "I'm sorry!" Her words were quick. -d-

Claramae "Oh let us begin again. What is your name, and where are you from?" The basics were a much better point of introduction. It wouldn't be the first time someone stared at her nor the last. Aside from the quick bit of language that ran out, Claramae was rather...intimidating for a woman to put it in the mildest sense. When she breathed it didn't appear she did. When she moved, it was too quiet. Just plain unusual (d)

Raven: "Rayen... Kanienkehaka." Her words weren't exactly easy to understand, figuring the woman wasn't a member of the Mohawk Nation. "People of the flint." Her golden hues wandered the face of the woman for any sign of understanding. A stray strand of her brown hair fell into her face, a slender finger quickly rising to push it behind her ear. She was still scared, and the way the woman spoke to her made the frightening feeling grow. -d-