When evil stirs....

[Maxx]

Welcome to Victorian London, in a world where the works of Jules Verne and Edgar Rice Burroughs are fact, not fiction.  The Nautilus prowls the seas, preying on the ships of 'that hated nation'.  Phineas Bogg has managed to circumnavigate the globe in just 80 days.  Steam powered airships are just beginning to challenge the skies and secret cabals of wizard practice forbidden art that most think are the stuff of fairie tales. 

Darkness lurks in the shadows that the gaslight just can't seem to dispel.  Desperate poverty exists only an arms length from lavish opulence.  And somewhere, evil stirs....

[Maxx]

The locomotive let out a burst of steam and came to a shuddering, screeching halt.  Butcher set the brake and let out a contented sigh.  He had a week off coming to him and he intended to enjoy it.  He jumped down off the locomotive and nodded to the new crew that was climbing aboard.  "Treat her like a lady," he said.  "It's the engine they have running east that needs to be treated like a whore."

The new engineer nodded.  "Will do, Butcher," he said, pronouncing it 'Butchah'.  "I'll give a blast on the whistle when I'm passing the pub.  If you hear it, raise a glass for me." 

Butcher chuckled, a deep rumbling sound.  "Will do." 

The barrel chested boar made his way to the office of the station master, to draw his pay for the upcoming week.  He had no trouble making his way through the crowd.  Years of practice and a face that most people wanted to avoid made it easier.  He slipped through the small door and nodded to the pinched faced stork behind the desk.

The stork opened his watch, then looked at the clock on the wall.  "You're two minutes late, Mr Butcher."

"Your watch is fast, Mr Addison,"  Butcher replied.

"The clock on my wall says my watch is correct."

"Big Ben says I'm right on time."

"Big Ben is slow."

Butcher chuckled again.  "Bite your tongue."

"I'd have to catch it first,"  the station master replied, pulling a key out of his vest.  "A whole week off?  You're going to go starkers, Butcher.  No throttle to grip and no whistle to pull."

"There and handles to grip and pints to pull,"  Butcher replied.  "I'm going on an engine driver's holiday."

"Staying in London?  Well, that means you won't have far to stumble when you come back to work."  There was no malice in the stork's tone.  In fact there was nothing but warm affection.  He spun a ledger around and offered Butcher a quill.  "Sign here and I'll get you your pay."

Less than an hour later, his pockets heavy and his stomach empty, Butcher walked through the door of the Admiral Nelson Arms.  ""Here, landlord!  I'll have a tot of gin, a pint of bitters and slice to hot kidney pie!"

"Git 'im a sweet as well, since 'e's like to drrrink like a child.  Might as well trrreat him like one." The voice sounded like it came from near someone's toes as it rang through the pub and silence rose in its wake.  Butcher turned, his eyes probing the darkness for the source of the voice.

It wasn't hard to find the speaker.  He was moving forward already.  It was clear that the kilted red haired Scottish bull had managed to cow everyone else in the room.  Butcher, it seemed, was about to receive the same treatment.

Butcher stood measuring his opponent, just as his opponent stop measuring him.  The entire room was still, except for the landlord serrupticiously moving breakables under cover.  Then Butcher and the bull moved at virtually the same time, their right hands coming together with a loud slap as each tried to force the other to his knees.  The tavern erupted into a chaos of shouts.

The struggle was long and fiercely fought but the outcome was a forgone conclusion.  The bull had Butcher by almost two feet and over a hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle.  Despite the strain and bulge of the boar's muscles, he found himself forced to bend his knee to the floor.  It wasn't an easy win for bull.  His face was flushed a deep crimson and sweat was running down into his eyes.  The grin of triumph was growing but he wasn't so confident that he would give Butcher a second's rest.

"Mercy!"  the boar finally growled, his knee a fraction of an inch from the floor.

"Aye, I'll give ye that," the bull said, relaxing his grin and grinning.  "Hallo, Butcher."  He threw his arms around the boar.

Butcher returned the embrace flexing his fingers and trying to get some feeling back in his hand.  "Hello, Angus.  What brings you to London?"

The Scot grinned, trying to hide the fact that he too was flexing his fingers.  He guided Butcher to his table.  "Circus is in toon.  You should come by.  There are a fair few that would be glad to see you."

"Sarah still there?"  Butcher asked.  Sarah was a redskin fox who claimed to be Sitting Bull's daughter.  It was more truthful to have said the she was a distant cousin but the claim brought in customers, especially when she also claimed to be able to speak with the spirits of the dead.

Angus's face fell.  "She's dead, Butcher," he said in a low voice.  "Murdered."

Butcher's jaw fell open.  "No."  Sarah had been so full of life.  She couldn't have been more than thirty.  She'd joined the circus while Butcher had been the strong man and had developed a bad case of puppy love.

"Aye.  They say Jack the Ripper is back but she's the only one that died that way."  Angus leaned closer.  "Caleb is dead too.  They found him drowned in the Thames, his rings still on and his purse still full.  As if anyone is fool enough to fall in there, drunk or sober.  And you know he didn't drink and he swam like a fish."

"Pulled me out of the river once,"  Butcher said, nodding slowly.  Caleb had been albino badger and another one who had claimed the ability to speak with the dead.  It was too much of a coincidence for Butcher.  "Let me get a bite to eat and we'll go have a visit.  I'll get to the bottom of this, Angus, before anyone else gets hurt."

[Trellin]

Coop leaned comfortably against the doorframe of the hallway that lead from the barroom to the loo and folded his arms to watch the show play out in front of him. He had returned from the loo just in time to see Angus stand up and start striding forward and was now watching Angus and the newcomer square off and take each others measure. The new arrival was hugely overmatched in size and weight but that did mean that the newcomer was a slouch by any means. He was short but stout would have been an unerstatement. An older gentleman, he was still clearly accustomed to hard work and it showed. It also didn't look like he was remotely interested in backing down. At least he didn't seem upset or angry about the confrontation, which was good.

When the two took three booming strides forward and their hands came together with a loud meaty smack, Coop grinned wide, and started cheering with the rest of the crowd. He was cheering for the boar, of course. He was impressed with the fight the boar put up but when it became clear that Angus was about to win the contest, he began making his way back to the table that the two of them had been sharing to make sure their drinks hadn't walked away in the excitement. What did surprise him was the way the boar and Angus threw greeted each other like long lost friends. He decided to go ahead and relax at the table and wait. If Angus wanted to catch up with his old buddy, that was fine, and if they wanted to join him back at the table, he would be interested to meet the man. In the meantime, Coop tilted the worn leather fedora back on his head so his face was clearly visible, stretched his arm up as high as it would go to catch the serving girls attention and signaled for another round of drinks giving her a wink and a smile. Then he leaned back in his chair to finish his ale and wait.

[Maxx]

"So who is this long tall fellow who's holding down your table?" Butcher asked, nodding towards the weasel.  He'd learned long ago not to judge by appearances.  The weasel was with Angus, which meant he was likely worth getting to know.

"Butcher, meet Stretch Cooper,"  Angus said, waving a hand towards the weasel.  "Coop, this is Butcher.  Used to have my job until a better man came along.  Now he runs trains up and down the track."

Butcher held out a hand.  "Pleasure," he said. 

[Trellin]

Coop broke into a big grin, stood and shook Butchers hand. "The infamous Butcher in the flesh! It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. Your name is tossed around quite a bit when the old hands get to reminiscing on the good 'ol days, especially when they start in on nippin at the old orchard, and it's a rare pleasure to see someone give Angus here a few moment's sweat." Glancing at Angus, Coop spoke in a mock whisper, "Sometimes thinks he's Hercules reborn", he laughed. "Have a seat Butcher and let me put up your first round of drinks. We'll all have a toast to old friends."

[Maxx]

Angus rolled his eyes.  "Lay it on a little thicker, Coop."

Butcher chuckled.  "I just want to hear some of the stories that are still going around.  Do they still tell the one about you and the Vicar's daughter?"

Angus looked shocked.  "Butcher!"

"Or the one about the canal horse?"

Now Angus looked embarrassed.  "Butcher!"

The boar gave an evil chuckle.  "You let the boy bask in the glory of history and I'll get too drunk to remember any of the really juicy tales."  He winked at Coop.  "Unless I get too drunk to remember that I'm supposed to forget."

[Trellin]

Cooper threw his head back and laughed, "Maybe you're right, Angus, I should sit back and let you handle the stories. I'd be interested in hearing the one about you and the canal horse, myself, but if you'd prefer to start with the one about the vicar's daughter, I'm good with that as well", he said, grinning from ear to ear. He sat up to get a good look around the room and saw that the drinks would be at the table any second. "So, Butcher, lets see how many drinks it takes to get to pass through the misty layers of memory loss", he said, giving a little chuckle.

[Goosekat]

Alazne was not all that comfortable being back in London.  She had no idea if the police were still looking for her or not but she couldn't stay hidden within the circus forever.  Pulling a light traveling cloak around her shoulders she headed into the city.  Alazne had kept in touch with a few people from when she had been in London ten years before but decided against trying to see any of them, at least not right away.  What she really needed was a few new clothes so she headed for a tailor shop that she knew from the past.  It was located not far from the docks not the best neighborhood for a women to be walking around all alone but Alazne could take care of herself if the need arose.  The shop was easy enough to find.  It was on the corner, right next to a dark alley that was strewn with garbage.  The smell from the alley was almost unbearable to her but she took a deep breath and entered the small rather dark shop. 

The shop keep took look at her and grimaced, it was a look that she was used to getting.  "I am need of a few new clothes if you would be so kind Sir."  Alazne said in her best servant voice.  She kept her eyes down, not quite to the floor but close.

[Maxx]

Butcher chuckled.  "Well, the story about the vicar's daughter is a four pinter but if you want the one about the canal horse, that one calls for twelve."  He winked at Cooper.  "After twelve, it won't matter how hard he hits me.  I won't feel it until tomorrow."

[Maxx]

It was with obvious reluctance that the shop keeper pulled out his measuring tape.  He was about to take Alazne's measure when he thought better of it.  "Randal!" he bellowed.  "Customer!"

Randal was obviously an ill favoured apprentice tailor.  He was thin, painfully so and seemed to be made up of awkward joints and angles.  Adding to his infamy was a lazy eye and a strawberry mark that covered a significant portion of his face.  He smiled shyly, showing the traditional bucked teeth of a young lamb although he was well out of his childhood.  "How can I serve you, Miss?" he asked in a voice that was surprisingly deep and filled with far more than his exterior betrayed.

[Trellin]

Coop gave a wide grin, "Well, since you put it that way, lets get started on those first four.", He winked at Butcher and smiled pleasantly up at the waitress that was arriving, "Thank ya, ma'am, yer just in time ta assist we two ne'er-do-wells in starting the party. Ah'm just here to make shure they have someone to drag them home when they can't see straight. If you'd be so kind as to make sure no one here gets gits it in his head to stand up and move by keepin' these glasses here from running dry, I'd shurly be in yer debt." He timed it so that he finished as she placed the first drink down, breifly took her empty hand in both of his and kissed it while placing a half sovereign into her palm and closing it her hand over it with the crowd none the wiser.

[Maxx]

The half crown went into the mouse maid's ample cleavage.  she gave Coop a saucy wink.  "If you're trying to get old Butcher drunk, you've got a long way to go,"  she said with a throaty chuckle.  "He's got a gullet the size of the Channel.  Many a night he's been sitting here when the landlord calls time, having gotten here at noon and still not even slurring his order."

"Now who's telling tales, Sally?"  Butcher asked.  "Seems to me if there is anyone who shouldn't be telling tales, it's you because turnabout is fair play."

The barmaid laughed.  "If i didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to make me blush.  There isn't a man alive that can, especially not you."  She waved her little finger at him before swirling into the crowd to fetch more drinks.

"Special girl, our Sally,"  Butcher said, watching her leave.  "Special girl."  There might have been a note of regret in his voice but then again perhaps not.  "So, Cooper, what's this I hear about you being some American bank robber, hiding out in merry old England until the wanted posters fall off the walls?"

[Trellin]

"Well, now, what's the point of aquirin' all that money if not to enjoy the occasional notorious sabbatical? The presence of my tail at the scene of the crime was purely circumstantial and I still maintain that someone removed it while I was asleep", Coopers neck seemed to stretch a few inches and he somehow managed to actually turn his head far enough to look at the place where his tail should be and looked at the spot longingly before heaved a heavy sigh and then continued, "Besides, given that my mother was born someplace in Europe I consider it more of a personal pilgrimage than a actual flight from the law. And please, call me Coop." Coop chuckled and shook his head at one of the locals who was trying hard to appear like he wasn't listening before continuing.
"You know how it is, you're either adopted into the life or born into it. In my case I was born into it. My ma crossed the pond when I was too young to remember much. We got adopted into the life pretty quick once we got over there", He lowed his voice slightly knowing the attitude regarding the people that he had inherited his swarthy complexion from, "she was a gypsy. Anyway, growing up in the life, you've seen it before, I'm sure. What about you? How did you come to leave the life of a traveling entertainer to become a hogshead?"

[Maxx]

Butcher took a large mouthful of ale.  "Well, I was instructed by a county magistrate that it might be advisable for me to seek gainful employment, rather than continuing on my course as a ne'er do well," he said.  "Railroading was the first thing that turned up.  How did you lose the tail?  Door slam on your way out, Coop?"  Butcher burped slightly the end of the question, so there might have been an 'of the' between 'out' and 'coop'.

[Trellin]

Coop grimaced and then chuckled slightly, "Honesty Butcher, I haven't a clue. It's been that way as far back as I can recall. The only person I've known so far that could have told me about it was my ma and she passed before tellin' me. Speakin o' which, there's one more mystery my ma never answered; you wouldn't have happened to have seen anything like these before, would you?" Coop pulled the sleeves up and turned his forearms so the insides were facing up and showed him the odd and complex brands that had been there his entire life.

[Maxx]

Butcher had seem many burns in his career as an engine driver but he had never seen anything like the ones decorating Coop's arms.  He shook his head.  "They're old,"  he said.  "You can tell by the way the skin around them is stretched.  You've grown since you got those and they don't look accidental.  Hell of a thing to do to a kid.  You've had them since you were a kid, right?"

[Trellin]

Coop nodded, "Never known a time when I didn't have em, like the tail. My mother went to America because she was fleeing something, of that much I'm certain. Other than that certainty, it's my scars, a missing tail and a few things I heard her mention when I was growing up that comprise my full knowledge on the subject of my blood relations. I crossed the pond to see if I could find out anything more than that."

[Maxx]

Butcher shrugged, rather than cross himself, which had been his first instinct.  "Likely some bloody Gypsy thing,"  he said.  "Crop your tail, jam some red hot iron against you, to protect you from some damned thing or other.  Worse than the bloody Masons for keeping secrets."

He sat back as the waitress delivered his dinner, along with a pitcher of foaming ale.  "Dig in there, Butcher," she said.  "You'll feel better after you get some food in your gullet."

[Trellin]

Coop glanced at Butcher then closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, "I don't know what happened or why but I do know from my mothers example that no matter what people say about them the Romani are no better or worse than any other people. Besides, if that were something that gypsies did to their children occasionally, I figure I'd have heard about it by now." He forced a smile onto his face and visibly relaxed. "Anyway, I appreciate what you told me. It didn't give my new information but I appreciate your being honest about it. I reckon there are few enough honest answers being given on this planet without my opinion inclining others to fail in that regard." He took a long swallow of ale and shook his head with a grin, "At least you didn't tell me another damned chicken joke. I am well and truly sick of hearing those. So if the local constabulary inspired you to give up the life of a carnie. what inspired you to become one?"

[Maxx]

Butcher shrugged.  "I was a drifter, you might say.  I hitched a ride with a circus wagon and when they stopped for the night to set up, one of the roustabouts and I got into a fight.  He hurt his hand.  I offered to do his work for him until he could do the work himself.  By the time he was healed up, I'd joined the circus.  Every kid's dream, right?"

[Trellin]

Coop grinned, "Thats what they say but most kids I've seen join up don't last long. On the other hand, most of those that do make it certainly seem to love it. I've never known anything other than that so I took the contrary road. I too leave of the show, a couple of times, and found that although I could leave the road, the road wouldn't leave me. I always wound up back in the show. I didn't really have a talent that I was willing to use outside of it. It does seem to have done you a world of good though. A way out of your former troubles and a way into something you enjoy doing that lets you be part of the rest of the world. I have to say, having tried to do that myself it's an impressive accomplishment." He raised his glass and gave Butcher a nod, "To your accomplishments", and downed his drink.

[Maxx]

Butcher tossed back his drink as well.  He had barely set his glass down when it was being refilled.  "To those who spend their lives bringing joy to others,"  he said, raising his glass.  "To old friends, both here and far away, both living and lost along the way."  He tossed back the second glass as well.  "So what do you know about what has happened?" he asked Cooper.  "Any more lost along the way?"

[Trellin]

Coop's face closed off for a moment and then he looked somberly at Butcher. Taking his refilled glass, he raised it, "To those who spend their lives entertaining other and those lost along the way", and downed it. He glanced at the big bull and then back at Butcher. He was distracted enough to let his slight American southwest American drawl and speech patterns come out as he said, "Too many lost along the way but if you're referring to the strange deaths of late...probably just the ones that you'd have already and not a one of them that sits right with me. Nothing to prove there was foul play but they smell strongly of mischief to me. It doesn't help that my mother, rest her soul, died in mysterious circumstances either, although I warrant that I might be somewhat prejudiced in that regard. For my money there's at least one if not several involved that would be deserving of posing as a target for practicing my trick shots and the topic itself is worthy of a few drinks in memoriam of those passed as well as celebration for those of us with a determination to look into the issue.  What have you heard so far?"

[Tinker]

The ruckus of the out of towners in her local pub almost put off the young monkey  from passing through the free house's doors, but the luring amber glow that spilled out into the street and the promise of the satisfying belly burn of a glass or two of rum after a long day was too much for her to even consider resisting. Mattie strolled into the establishment, her keen copper eyes taking in the sight of all the new faces, her dark head slightly cocking as she picked up odd fragments of conversations in a cacophony of different accents.

It must have been busy the whole day through, for the floor seemed to want to keep her bare feet stuck fast to its surface and it wasn't like the delectable staff of the "The Arms" to let the place get into such a state. She quickly assessed that her usual seat was currently inhabited by a somewhat leery goat that was making lewd jokes concerning the ample assets of the fox that was laughing heartily with his every obscenity. Mattie was relieved to see that a stool at the bar next to a weasel and boar was still free and quickly laid claim to it before any other could.

The mouse barmaid smiled as the capuchin perched on the stool, her long black tail curling over her shoulder like a sentient scarf, "Y'alright, Mattie luv? The usual?'

Mattie nodded and begun to dig in one of the pouches on her belt for payment as the barmaid bustled herself with a small nip of rum, "You looked knackered, love. The Professor needs to lay off you once and a while, let you enjoy your youth."

Mattie shook her head as a quiet voice rich with the flourish of someone born within earshot of the Bow Bells softly sounded, "Yer alright, the professor only works me hard as I need it, asides, there's too much trouble to get in 'round here."

The barmaid chuckled and settle the glass in front of Mattie, "There you are, luv."

Mattie handed the mouse a penny, "One for yourself too."

"Bless your heart, Mattie", the barmaid cooed, "If only all my customers were as thoughtful."

Mattie blushed softly and her long hand self consciously fiddled with the lenses of the goggles that sat perched atop her head as the barmaid went off to serve some other patron. The rum was good and sparked that warm fire in her belly, the conversations around her were as colourful as the tents from which they had came, but she kept her small head down so as not to seem as if she were listening in.

[Maxx]

"A fellow takes a minute to head oot to the loo and when he comes back he finds a monkey's stolen his seat."  The voice was deep and decidedly Scottish.  It belonged to an enormous kilted red bull who bulged with enough muscle to make his shirt seem fit to burst.  "What d'you say, Lass?  Can I have my stool back?"

The boar turned.  "You broke the seal, Angus.  You pay the price.  If you want to sit, Miss, feel free."  He had the look of a railway man and given the amount of soot and sweat still on him, he hadn't finished work too long ago.