Wrath's People:
"Hey! Y'fergot yer titfer, Twist!"
Petticoat lane is, half a year after the Seige of Selene, coming back to life. Gallowsfolk mingle, and the fine wares of Petticoat Lane are on lacy display. One woman, her eyes looking bruised with caked makeup, and with a faded tattoo of a cornflower on her cheeck, pursues a Reeve from Les Innocents back out into the street and hands him his bowler hat. He mutters, embarassed, cheeks flaming, takes the hat, and jumps quickly into a cabby carriage that has pulled through the muck and puddles. The john does not look at the slight figure that descends from the carriage, but the woman's eyes widen slightly.
"Whit're you doin he...." her voice trails off and blood drains slowly from her face.
"Don't worry just com'd by to talk. But I know that talk or what not, the time costs the same." As a small bag of coins hangs swinging from his hand, "let's take to talking inside." As he walks forward to show that it was not a question. "I am sure you'll be into listening close to what I have to say," he says with what could almost be a smile on the faceless boy.
"Now I am looking for a old dear friend. One we both know. Let me be cut'n the short of it. But the coin for your time," he says as he throws the bag of coins on the bedstand. She looks to the spilling coins and thats all he needs. With unnatural speed and reach the faceless boy swings a war-razor from out of nowhere and back again. Slicing only one hair from the end of her long ponytail. She feels a cold breath on the back of her neck and she snaps around to see the faceless boy. But a smile come to her face as if the welcomed sight of a dear friend had come to her eye. And with that he latches the door behind him with the other arm."I"m looking for Prim Rose." He wait a few seconds to see the thoughts run in her eyes. "You are one of her Flowers? Sure she has stay in touch."
"Weel, if'n I wasn' sure it was some other twist! Good to see yeh, er..." Her face shows a slight confusion and then the magic takes hold again.
"Yer lookin' fer Rosie, then, are yeh? Well, take a butchers around and mak' sure ye've not been followed. Then it's up the apples and pears. Once we're inside and out of sigh', we'll talk." She turns and flounces up the rickety stairs, tacked onto the building after the first stairs were burned during the Petticoat Uprising.
"Well? C'mon then!"
He looks over the room and up the stairs with unseen eyes. And follows up the stairs. "My dear, as you know no one knows I be back. I come to see you for info but I have little time. So let us talk straight away and quick. Do you know where Rose is? It is improtant that I speak to her. It would be best for all her garden flowers that we talk."
Up in the flea-infested flophouse, the flower-girl tosses her top onto a bed, scratching absentmindedly at an angry red rash under her arms.
"So, only Primrose'll suit you, eh, Johnny? Well, I'm afraid she don't take clients. I've seen 'er no more'n once r' twice since the Seige. But...if ye'll keep it quiet, I do know som'n who might know where she is. Mother Clap's. Ask for Ivy."
And with that he flips a coin to her "Do FORGET the change." As she pulls the coin out of the air the words she hears "egnahc eht TETROF oD" She would think, how wierd that all these words and moments are running backwards out of my head, if she could remember that they were gone. She is left with a drink in one hand and the extra coin the john dropped in the other. And no memory of the faceless boy.
As he slips through the shadows out of the room, the faceless boy notices a note protruding from the girl petticoat's, bearing a silver wax seal stamped with the mark of lust and smelling of apple blossoms.
With the movements of something otherworldly the boy pulls the note from the coat and seems to drop into a shadow in the floor and is gone. Outside on a side street the boy smells the note and opens it. The skin over his eyes pulls way to show his black soulless eyes as he reads the note.
Beloved Wrath,
I have seen your servants crawling about near Mother Clap's and Petticoat Lane. My gaze does not yet reach deep, but it's breadth is expanding rapidly and it can see into the shadows in which you hide. Know that the whores are under my protection and I will not stand idly by if your knives find their way into their beds.
I do, however, propose a trade, Brother Wrath. People tell many secrets in the throws of passion and my daughters are like to acquire much information that you will find of use. In exchange I ask that you encourage your servants to indulge in the baser pleasures of their flesh, and so do me homage, and to keep watch over my daughters that are in your territory and see that they remain neutral in your wars.
Remember, we are as gods, so we might as well get good at it.
~Lust
A ragged street dog comes to a stop lowering down, baring teeth and hair raised. It looks at the boy that is filling it with more fear then ever. For the boys face slowly forms lips and a large smile. As Wrath has thoughts of rusty "knives finding their way into their beds." The dog moves forward but falls in two parts before it knows that Lockjaw has cut through it. And the smile is gone along with the whole face. He puts the thoughts away for later. The boy thinks this to himself, "Let my sist...broth...well whatever it is today, Lust, know that Wrath and his sons will protect and take of Lusts servants pleasures. In trade for the secrets of those who called the anger of wrath." And with that he feels his little friend trying to send the thoughts to Lust's mind with the pictures of what counts as Wrath's "baser pleasures". All with blood and razors. He picked the dogs head up. And says "Lets go see an old freind." The boy skips down the street singing a goodnight song from the Gallows.
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Cornflower:
In the streets of the city, the children run swiftly, racing to post more notices than their peers. Within hours every lamp post on every street corner in every quarter of the city bears a double-dozen large, red-lettered bills strewn with apple-petals, somehow unharmed by the cold. "A Holiday!" They declare, "Like none other." The first of many, they promise. The doors of every brothel thrown wide and the ladies (and men) better-dressed, clean, and offered up for free to any who would wish to come and partake. "Freedom!" They declare. Where previously it had only been whispered, the whores now shout it, it seems. "Tzaluth is Dead! New gods are risen! The People are Free!" And the 14th of Februarius shall be the city's great day of celebration.
As the children go about their chores of publicity, Cornflower, looking a good deal cleaner and more rested than the week before, slides into Graygavel's office and leaves a small envelope, sealed with a silver wax stamped with the targolid heiroglyph for 'Lust'. "A message for you and your master, from our Lord and Lady."
"What I'm not the post you know! Dum Wom.......Ye look right for the town." As the drwaf pushes the hair down on his head and smooths out his beard. "No, need for ye to run so soon, Cornflower." He kick out a draw and pulls a bottle of hard wine out. "Ya Master Lust as call holiday?" He smiles.
Cornflower sits down on the dwarf's lap, and pours them each a glass. "Aye love. Lady Love has called a fest'val, so I guess she don' mind if I stays a while." Cornflower winks at him and pulls out a letter opener. "Mayhaps I should finish deliverin' the message first though."
She reads it aloud, her eyes glazing over and her voice flat and expressionless as she does so:
Wanders:
"Holiday!....Freedom!....I take it if I want it wench." The men yelled as the glass hit the wall of the brothel common room just to the left of Jack's head. Jack looked up from his cards and let out a breath. "I'll be right back ladies." As he put down the cards on the table, "And no peeking." He walks away from the table of cards and other peoples garments, over and to the side of the loud drunk man. "We're here for fun now mate." As he throws an arm over the man's shoulder.
The man looks mad but then stunned as he sees Jack is wearing only boots, hat, and a smile. "Maybe my kind of fun is......." (Where did he get that??) the man stops as his eye catch the frost covered wand at his ribs. Still with a smile and friendly voice as to not waste the fun time of others Jack says, "This is a house of Lust, and Wanders keep a eye over it for the Lord Wrath's sister." And with that the cold of the wand burns into the man side and his eyes go wide then roll up and close. "Wooo, HAHA, Friend sleep it off. Not all of us can make it through the whole holiday on our feet."
Jack sits the man in a chair by the far wall. "I'll get someone to come for your body friend," he says low with a smile and a friendly hit on the chin. Jack turns and walks back to the table of half clothed ladies. "So, where were we? O yes I raise you a hat." The hat lands on the table.
In the streets of the city, the children run swiftly, racing to post more notices than their peers. Within hours every lamp post on every street corner in every quarter of the city bears a double-dozen large, red-lettered bills strewn with apple-petals, somehow unharmed by the cold. "A Holiday!" They declare, "Like none other." The first of many, they promise. The doors of every brothel thrown wide and the ladies (and men) better-dressed, clean, and offered up for free to any who would wish to come and partake. "Freedom!" They declare. Where previously it had only been whispered, the whores now shout it, it seems. "Tzaluth is Dead! New gods are risen! The People are Free!" And the 14th of Februarius shall be the city's great day of celebration.
As the children go about their chores of publicity, Cornflower, looking a good deal cleaner and more rested than the week before, slides into Graygavel's office and leaves a small envelope, sealed with a silver wax stamped with the targolid heiroglyph for 'Lust'. "A message for you and your master, from our Lord and Lady."
"What I'm not the post you know! Dum Wom.......Ye look right for the town." As the drwaf pushes the hair down on his head and smooths out his beard. "No, need for ye to run so soon, Cornflower." He kick out a draw and pulls a bottle of hard wine out. "Ya Master Lust as call holiday?" He smiles.
Cornflower sits down on the dwarf's lap, and pours them each a glass. "Aye love. Lady Love has called a fest'val, so I guess she don' mind if I stays a while." Cornflower winks at him and pulls out a letter opener. "Mayhaps I should finish deliverin' the message first though."
She reads it aloud, her eyes glazing over and her voice flat and expressionless as she does so:
~Wrath and the Wanders,As she finishes reading, she seems to forget the contents as she throws the note aside onto the table and begins to drive home on Graygavel exactly how distracting free whores can be...
It appears you've poked your heads up and been seen. This does not suit either of our causes. I am doing what I can by way of distraction; a day of free whores should go a long way towards giving the folk something other to speak of than your indiscretion. Please, use this time wisely.
~Lust
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Wanders:
"Holiday!....Freedom!....I take it if I want it wench." The men yelled as the glass hit the wall of the brothel common room just to the left of Jack's head. Jack looked up from his cards and let out a breath. "I'll be right back ladies." As he put down the cards on the table, "And no peeking." He walks away from the table of cards and other peoples garments, over and to the side of the loud drunk man. "We're here for fun now mate." As he throws an arm over the man's shoulder.
The man looks mad but then stunned as he sees Jack is wearing only boots, hat, and a smile. "Maybe my kind of fun is......." (Where did he get that??) the man stops as his eye catch the frost covered wand at his ribs. Still with a smile and friendly voice as to not waste the fun time of others Jack says, "This is a house of Lust, and Wanders keep a eye over it for the Lord Wrath's sister." And with that the cold of the wand burns into the man side and his eyes go wide then roll up and close. "Wooo, HAHA, Friend sleep it off. Not all of us can make it through the whole holiday on our feet."
Jack sits the man in a chair by the far wall. "I'll get someone to come for your body friend," he says low with a smile and a friendly hit on the chin. Jack turns and walks back to the table of half clothed ladies. "So, where were we? O yes I raise you a hat." The hat lands on the table.
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An Eunuch:
Piracy, interesting sport. Love reveled in the wind, the song, the camaraderie. Lust too reveled in the camaraderie, of a different sort. On seedy docks by the Sea of Glass, Lust and her brother Pride found the man they were looking for. A poor wretch, missing many a limb, Love's heart wept for the man's suffering, Lust had other ideas. "Heal him," they both said to Pride.
As Pride walked away with his ill-gotten gains, quite shaken by his ordeal from having ridden along in Lust's war-troll sexcapades, Lust stopped a bit, fondling her friend's newly re-grown genitalia, shining with the afterglow of her pleasures and an inner holy power. "You're quite the ride for a eunuch. Know that vou've been touched by the Lord of Lust himself and your pleasures will never again go unsatisfied." She produces a pale apple from god-knows-where, slightly slick with her own sweat. "Take it, eat. If you serve me and are good to my daughters, they will always do well by you."
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