A Gentlemans Game Of Curiosity (Panakananana and boyo111)

[ShadowsLitany]

"Lord Doyle?" The servant walked over, tufted up in his finery, lace and collars with a tight jacket of red like a liveryman, the tight, controlled voice came again, "Lord Doyle, m'lord." The man bowed, "you are next up m'lord. Anything I may help you with?" The eyes looked up in a mixture of hope and subservience under the powdered wig.

"Not a thing my good man," he replied taking the mask and saber in hand. The man nodded and led him to the right end of the wide room, the cheers of the crowd resounding as the men in the Club gathered about the various fencing competitions. The usual bets being placed among many with the favorites of course getting the most money. Rubbing his slippers as he stepped into the cleared space, the long red carpet showing the space they needed to work within, his opponent already waiting in mask, gloves, and jacket. The clothes bulky and ill-fitting, even his own seemed to make him feel rather bloated.

"Usual rules," the Lord Byron resplendent in his brightly colored jacket, breeches and starched white socks. "Three points total, one touch a point, 3 minute round." He nodded to Lord Byron and his opponent as he slipped the mask over his face, his opponent swung the saber and nodded with in the mask. Behind the crowd closed around, wanting to see how this unknown champion would fare against the club champion.

Swiftly his opponent came on, their blades striking, his blade knocked aside and he backed up to avoid the rush. Stopping when he felt the rougher patch under his slippers tried to move out, the blade moved like a serpent and then was flat against his chest. Two thumps on his jacket in a satisfied movement, his opponent returned to position and he returned to his own, an unseen grin on his face as he felt he had taken the opponents measure. Salute and then the opponent came at him again, the practiced moves coming against his blade, this time he stepped back once, then in a move under the others saber took his point. Touching his opponents chest in satisfaction thought he heard a gasp from his opponent, noticing the extra padding in the jacket.

Second points came quickly for each as they moved towards and away from each other, the second one hard won by him in a move where he was able to knock the others saber down and with a downward stroke took his point to cheers. The crowd gathering around to the expectation of his third and final point. Instead his opponent took a risky move that put the others saber under his rib cage, a killing stroke if the blades were sharp and they were in a duel. The other competitions stopped as they lined up for their third points, never before had he been equaled by any of the other gentlemen in the Club and he was most intrigued as to this opponent. A glance around he noted the crowds placing bets, some on his opponent, those who were his detractors, while one ill-dressed man with an old valise took his momentary attention.

The third point was hard fought, neither could get the advantage. As if they had both taken the others measure the sabers struck, swiped, lunged all without reaching a target. The rush of one was met by a soft defense stepping back as the blades were turned, as he performed this and returned so his opponent did the same. The sweat of the exertion was beginning to show on his forehead, never had he gone this long before. His opponent seemed to be tireless, as of some superhuman stamina and when he began to feel his defense crumbling heard the voice ring out in the room. "Time!" Lord Byron called out, his voice loud and clear in the room.

Stepping back he took off the mask and stepped forward, "a very fine match, my good man. I don't believe I have ever met the like before," the crowd itself gathered around as his opponent seemed to look for a way out. Reaching out to take the arm, "come, my good man. A sherry for your name," the other moved the saber in warning and he stopped waiting.

 

[Panakananana]

Shannon quickly turns to face Lord Byron. She lets out an overly exaggerated sigh and casually removes her face guard. The crowd gasps, everyone is completely shocked to see that a woman has entered into the tournament as a competitor, let alone that the match came up a draw, against their champion. As Shannon removes helmet revealing a sweaty, breathing heavily face, and brown unkempt hair that is a bit short for a female, she bows to Byron "Shannon" she is very slim and healthy, about the same height as Byron.

During the lengthy match in which neither of the two seemed able to claim the advantage, a true test of Shannon's stamina was given. The countless hours at the gym paid off for this one. Though her fencing uniform was not revealing in the least, she got a lot of attention, not sure if it was because she was a woman or because of the draw.

Shannon walks past Byron to claim her prize, a 477 pound check. She is somewhat of a hoarder when it comes to money but a very generous and gracious person. She kind of likes the attention as she doesn't get out much, she feels uncomfortable though, as her wandering eye catches a few misdoings.

 

[ShadowsLitany]

The surprise that covered the face of the ring of gentlemen was quickly displaced with grumbling as the room slowly cleared. Few commendations to her skill and ability to bring the competition to a draw, while deserved, were sadly not given. Glances from the members as they looked upon the young lady, then left as if her presence in the room intruded on some perceived sanctity, that was hardly given to the members only club. A smile crossed his lips as Byron handed her the money a shocked look on Byron's face that turned towards him as if in supplication, Philip stepped back and bowed with a flourish.

"My good lady, I am pleased to make your acquaintance," sweeping his arms aside, mask and sword flaring our in his hands, then stood tall again. His black swept hair still held his queue even after the exertions, "Philip George Ridgefield, the Lord of Doyle at your service." At a nod from him the red coated servants stepped up and took the masks and sabers away. His own piercing blue eyes took in her measure, now seeing the female form in the ill-fitting clothes. "If you would be so kind as to join me in the dining room, my lady, I believe I owe you a sherry." Stepping off the carpet turned, "Lord Byron, please make sure she finds her way to my usual place."

Walking into the changing room, a cloth in hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, he removed the bulky uniform. Always confining he noted to himself, but one must adhere to the rules. A quick wipe down with a soaked towel handed by another servant, then he changed into his usual dark pants and waistcoat. The light silk shirt cool against his skin, one of the few luxuries he afforded himself, and feeling better under the tight coat and vest, hanging the pocketwatch in its place and checking the time. Over his silk he wore the bright white, high collared shirt slightly open at the top, as a note against convention, the tie done expertly by the servant. Philip's thoughts drifted as he wondered at her skill, multiple schools and styles drifted through his mind until he considered one he thought was hers. While women were not unknown as visitors in the club it was highly unusual for one to have entered the competitions, he was extremely curious as to how she had managed that. His mind perked up at the opportunity to find out more.

Making his way into the dining room, dressed immaculately though a bit plainly for many of the more colorful members, being one of the founding families he was afforded a certain leeway. Not that it mattered to Philip what the other members thought of him, he breezed through the Club as he willed, avoiding those but the few who afforded him an intellectual challenge. Two chairs and a table stood aside the bar, they were empty for him, the other chair usually unused as he had little use for conversation with many of the members. Taking a seat had two sherry's placed on the small oaken table between the chairs. The dining room was loud with its vaulted ceiling, walls covered with photos and portraits of past and present members, the long dark wooded bar manned by two men in white coats who offered libations and cigars to the assembled men who stood before it. The place stank of men and liquor in a haze of tobacco, as he waited then watched her cross the room thought at least for once there was something to take his attention in the room.

 

[Panakananana]

Shannon's mind always seemed to be in multiple places at once, she seemingly pays little attention to what Byron was saying "I'll just call you Byron then, for short, sounds better anyways" says Shannon as she peers away, listening in on a conversation between two apparent bankers. After following Byron into the changing room, she stands there, hopping on one leg in a struggle to remove her uniform without taking off her clothes. None of the other men seem to mind that she is in the men's changing room, hopefully out of understanding that a women's changing room does not exist in the club. Shannon leaves her sweaty, black, tank top and gym shorts on, in refusal to take them off with the hungry eyes watching.

In the dining room, she feels as if she is dressed like a hobo, but no one's opinion matters to her, she is here for Byron and would have otherwise gone home already. The sherry's are placed on the table in front of them "I don't drink, Byron, you can have mine. I'll have a steak, and one of their finest waters".

 

[ShadowsLitany]

"You certainly don't rest on convention do you?" He smiled admirably at her as she sat down. Taking up the sherry he nodded to her, looking at the ruby colored wine as he swirled it around the small glass releasing some of its sweet aroma. "Fencing and all aside you definitely are far more interesting than most of the men here," sipping the sherry savored its sweetness on his tongue as he let it drip down his throat.

Shannon was not the only one of out place here he noticed, again the simply dressed man with the valise was by the bar. Shyly ordering a small aperitif, the man placed the cracked and old valise on the floor. "Take that man for instance," he gestured towards the bar, "the one with the brown suit. Out of place here, yet no one seems to notice. Nervous, and out of place, the valise itself is odd. Heavy and not required within the club," he sipped again as he watched the man. "Yes, very odd," beginning to talk aloud, his mind moving ahead as he muttered to himself. "Plain cloth, cheaply cut, the shoes also old and dirtied. A man who walks a lot, the cuffs on his pants hemmed and repaired. The valise, held as if in preparation for something, or valuable within. Even on the ground he touches it with a foot. Interesting."

A motion at his side, "oh yes, sorry my dear. I get lost in thought easily." Smiling, "oh yes, the fencing. So few women take up the sabre, and your skill. Where did you train, if I may so inquire?"

 

[Panakananana]

Shannon looks at you with a face that is a strange mixture of both intrigue and pity, as she reads into each word that you are saying, even when you start to mumble halfway to yourself. When asked about her training, she replies "one moment please" she says as she gets up with her eye on that man you described. An aromatic inhale of the sherry stings her nostrils as she passes. She approaches the brown suited man and casually strikes up some conversation with him, then she falls over on him, making sure that he cops a good feel out of it, in order to distract him from the satchel she was stealing. Claiming to have had a little too much wine, she makes her way back to the oak table and passes Phillip the satchel, under the table. "For the steak" she whispers and sits down with you "I have never played swords before this is my first time, my natural ability comes from the vigorous exercises I put myself through daily".

 

[ShadowsLitany]

Watching Shannon distract the strange man and return with the valise, placed at his feet, looks up in a mixture of amazement and wonder. "Simple but effective, an usual way to obtain something." Smiling and giving Shannon an admiring glance looks down at the valise. Opening it slightly notices the inside is filled with loose coins of varying denominations. "That explains the weight of it," surreptitiously picking up a couple notices the brown suited man has disappeared from the room.

"Curiouser and curiouser," taking a close look at the coins. turning them over from one side to the other. Pausing as Shannon's steak arrives, raising an eyebrow at where they might have obtained it. Not something he had ever seen offered in the Club before, but they always did serve their members well. The meat still steamed from where ever it was cooked, the smell of charred meat resounding in his nostrils. Shrugged turns each coin over once in his hands then smiles as he places them on the table in increasing denomination, from a shilling up to a crown. "Notice anything unusual in the coins?"

 

[Panakananana]

She inhales deeply "let's see" Shannon says quietly and bites into the coin "Yup it's not chocolate". She notices a few men listening in and trying not to be noticed. "I don't think that this is a conversation we should have here" Shannon gestures toward all the men around the club, also trying not to be noticed "let's go to my house...it's quieter". She takes a bite of her steak and savors it "after this". "I don't know how you got here but I walked". She leans in close to your face with a majority of her cleavage showing through her tank "they look real, but it's so easy to alter coins these days, smells like trouble though" she whispers and continues her meal.

 

[ShadowsLitany]

"Chocolate Coins?" He mused for a moment watching her, a smirk on his face at her unconventionality. This made her more interesting, he thought, better than the stuffy gentlemen who tried to avoid watching them from across the room. Eyes made their way to her, whether as curio, or something that touched on their baser desires in the alcohol and tobaccoo fumed air, he was unsure. "A novel thought that, very good. Though no, that is not what I meant. The eyes, a slight detail surely, but while our good Queen Victoria does possess the realm of human emotion that is not one that would be depicted on the coins."

Finishing his sherry scanned the bar, while the crowd had someone thinned there was an obvious loss. "It seems our friend has noticed his loss. Either embarrassed or his work done," gesturing towards the bar, "he's left." Looking down at the valise. "What does one do with a case full of counterfeit coins, too much to just buy something with," picking up the valise was amused at the weight. Digging a hand in the coins felt the smoothed edges on some and the sharpness of others, some actually were actually worn. There were some scratches on the inside, running his hand over the inner material felt an impression of something. "Writing on the inside," running his finger slowly over the area, "an address. 1313 Mockingbird Lane. Now that sounds to be a dreary address."

 

[Panakananana]

"Oh 1313 Mocking Bird lane? I had a friend that used to live there, oh sorry never mind I think that was '1313 did your cheese fall off your cracker lane'. I can tell you're thinking of going there as a vigilante and it's not a good idea" Shannon says as she finishes her steak and water, struggling not to look back at you. "Whenever you're ready to go, we can continue our discussion at my house. I really need a shower, and I will not use the one in this club, if there is one. I live on the next street over, you are welcome to come with me sir I'm going home...thanks for the steak...I guess this counts as my first date, I hope to see more of you".

 

[ShadowsLitany]

Sitting back in the chair nodding, "date?" Standing and following to the front room, the butler nodded to them in greeting, averting his eyes. A hand held out his coat and cane, putting on the long coat he turned to watch her at the door. The butler looked at him with wise but weary eyes, the man's uniform tight against his paunch, but the back straight and stiff. The hat was brushed and placed carefully on his head, a perceptible nod and he turned to the door. Held open by the red coated doormen outside.

Walking beside her, nodding to the ladies in the street, the cane an accessory and not needed. "I am hardly what one would call a vigilante." He sniffed at the term, it sounded so base. As the crowded street passed by his eyes wandered, noting the stares of some, especially those of the more baser sort with hungry eyes, then realized he still had the valise with him. "Its more of a curiosity in things, that seem to happen. Like a puzzle, the pieces appear and they just demand to be placed back together."

 

[Panakananana]

Shannon stuffs her hands into her pockets and begins the slightly cold walk with Phillip at her. She receives stares as if she were a bum, being quite used to that she did not care. "The cold does not bother me, I rather enjoy it actually" she inhales deeply and lets out a long sigh before responding to what you had said "I was considering helping you out on this, but not if the only reason you have is to satisfy your own curiosity..." she says casually as she places her hands behind her head, giving herself a good stretch. As she does, a hooded man loops through her arms and around her neck with his. He holds you at gunpoint and demands the satchel. Shannon has been held hostage before and is surprisingly calm through all of this "just give him the satchel Phillip". As you begin to reach for it, Shannon back kicks the hooded man's testicles, weasels out of his grip, trips him, and shoots him in the face with his own gun. "I may just help after all...now I really need a shower, hurry now, before the cops come, I don't live far".

 

[ShadowsLitany]

Philip watched the quickness of her actions, amazed at how quickly she moved and the man was on the ground before them. Dead. Turning to look back at the body, the street people descended on the corpse like vultures that stripped the body before he heard the shrill whistle of the police sound at the far end of the street. As they turned the corner he looked over at Shannon, "not that the man did not deserve it, but rather extreme was that not?"

While he may have done the same to the man he was unused to watching one of the fairer sex perform such acts, not unusual in some areas he had been, and some of the rougher neighborhoods of London had women who have done worse. Seeing it before his eyes was distressing for the moment, although the fact the man already knew they had the satchel and wanted its contents meant there was something more complex a foot than he suspected.

As they entered Shannon's home Philip put the satchel on a table, removed a few coins as he looked in the bag, palming them to his pocket. "It seems our little treasure is wanted by others," turning to Shannon leaned on the table twirling his cane. "Seems this is not just a chance meeting on our part."

 

[Panakananana]

Shannon closes the door and shivers in fear at what just happened. "Right you are Phillip, we can be off right after my much needed shower" she starts walking past the main room and down the hallway to the shower. Without looking back she takes off her tank top and keeps walking "you are welcome to join me if you want to Phillip, just don't be expecting anything special. Then we can get going, in the meantime, don't worry about killers, this place is like a fortress".

She enters into the shower after removing her clothes and yells to you "I'm pretty sure at this point that the coins in that satchel are evidence, that would be the only reason that they would go to such lengths to get them back".

 

[ShadowsLitany]

Looking at the coins in the satchel, running his hand through them, let the metal slide over his hand as he absent-mindedly thought about them. It wasn't the face they were counterfeit that bothered him, it was the sheer amount. To make so much, it seemed like a waste of effort. It couldn't affect much by having so much in circulation, that he could think of. Unless it became known that the coins were faked, the quality was good enough to fool many.

"Unless someone is looking to destabilize the belief in the stability in the pound, it's just unusual why so much." Dropping the coins back listing to the sound of the metal, "if one could make this number why not put them in circulation instead of carry around so much like this."

Following Shannon into the shower, dropping clothes on the furniture his mind still working out the perplexities of so many coins and their uses. Too small a value to be overall useful, even in large amounts. "I think the solution to this does lie at the address, or at least another piece of the puzzle."

 

[Panakananana]

As she washes her hair and body using various soaps and shampoos, you begin thinking that she has far more vanity than her first impression would suggest. "I think that a major market crash was predicted by someone with inside knowledge who knows that pounds will become worthless. That's what makes sense to me, mystery solved...but if you really want to, Phillip, we can go to that address and dip your wick into the coinage".

"ALRIGHT!" she says loudly and cartwheels to her closet "let me find something appropriate to wear and lets go".

 

[ShadowsLitany]

Shannon seemed to grasp something about the situation, that quickly resolved to her the intent behind the coins. Philip thought about it as he quickly washed the sweat of the competition off, using a scented soap of lavender that he found only mildly feminine. Shannon was thorough, clean and yet fragrant, to him it seemed more normal. Too much scent always made him think of the dandies he saw at the club sometimes, clothes and scents placed on more for attraction, but to what he did not know.

"Perhaps it is that simple," he agreed in part using a towel to dry his hair, aware now he at times had his servants comb and brush. Using a hand after the hair seemed dry enough pulled the lengths back, "I hardly need wick in the coinage, but a nice jest my dear."

Retracing his steps, collecting his clothes and dressing as he did so. She sliced the outside away, seeing the core of the matter so quickly and yet it was not enough just to know the what. Philip wanted more, "who would do this? There is little to gain from devaluing the pound, unless that is what they are betting upon, or somehow expect the Sterling to become worth less than it is now." His mind tried to grasp at what the economic realities were, yet the immediate need was the address and what was there. "Still, as you say, let us put wick to coinage and see who might be, at the very least, in the middle of all this."

 

[Panakananana]

Shannon takes a few minutes fumbling around in her spacious walk in closet "and for all intensive purposes I will be wearing this". After hesitating for a moment she walks out in a full body, spandex suit to conceal herself. However the suit is no the typical black, but in a reddish brick pattern, as if she had been to that address before and knows exactly how to keep herself hidden. "How do I look, Phillip" she says as she spins slowly in her skintight, spandex suit, with nothing underneath it but a thin, wireless bra.

"I told you at the club that I had been there before, but then I stopped myself because I noticed people were listening. I'm not so sure what's there anymore but I hope no one painted.

 

[ShadowsLitany]

Philip opened the door to let Shannon lead the way. The grace and poise she walked with next to him belied the skill she possessed with the sword, that amused him. As if a dancer Philip looked at her and saw only a lady, not the skilled swords woman he knew her to be. Walking together to the edge of the street they merged in with the others as just another couple out for a walk. Philip tipped his hat, or nodded to those they passed by, judging each quickly as to whether they were a threat or not. Already in his mind that someone was standing against them, and with the earlier attack still a fresh memory, he looked warily at the crowd taking in each person as his eyes scanned the street.

On the main road he hailed a cab, helping Shannon inside the coach, giving the driver the address sat back quietly thinking while the carriage moved across the cobblestone streets. The clip of horses and other carriages filled the air around them. The smell of the unwashed masses, street refuse and horse filled the air. The streets passing by slowly as the driver made his way through the major thoroughfares towards the given address. Feeling slightly safe in the moving carriage, that no one was going to overhear, and the driver out of earshot above he brought up the point she had mentioned before.

"Someone else was in the club?" He looked at her, "I was not keeping an eye out then, I had thought that the man was alone. Yet to get in he would have needed a sponsor to bring him, did you get a look at the person who was listening? We might get an idea of who is behind this if we follow that lead later," shrugging as his body swayed in the carriage. "If the house does not pan out that is."