Fantasy The MPC Rushes Story, Cont.

[Arkadious]

England: After several hours of tracking, the trail went cold at the bell tower. Frustrated, Tivurtii Trent kicked a loose bit of rock and sent it cascading down the stairs, the pings growing fainter as it bounced further and further down. After a moment of pacing and fuming, Tivurtii settled down and leaned against the stone wall, his leather coat keeping him warm from the chill blowing through the large openings of the bell tower. He pulled his hood up over his head, to keep the briskness off his ears and neck. He reached into his coat and pulled out the sketch of the man he was tracking and studied it a bit more in the fading light. Whoever this man was, he caused much trouble for the Trent family and Tivurtii would not rest until he found him. As he sat against the wall, his eyes grew heavy and he dozed off...


Shanghai, 1930: Tivurtii was warm, and cozy. Too warm even. He rolled over and sat up and found himself in a bed not his own, still wearing his leather coat and draped with a wool blanket. He shrugged it off then rose to his feet and looked around. He was in a small, albeit cozy, room, with a simple bed, desk, and a wash basin against the wall, a window with ornamental grating outside letting in the morning sun as well as the chirping of birds the he didn't recognize. After a moment, Tivurtii realized he also faintly heard the sound of sobbing as well as a gasp and several soft voices, coming from outside his room. He opened the door and peered out and heard movement and shuffling coming from a room a few doors down from his. Pulling his hood up, he went and strode cautiously to the door, the soft sound of a woman weeping coming from inside, as well as another woman trying to comfort her. Being ever the gentleman, Tivurtii raised his hand and knocked gently...

 

[ArtBlott]

Oh look, something else to do! Flushing an odd purple color, Blott turned on her heel and gave the other girl (Dandelion? Maybe not but she was getting close, she felt) a nervous wave, "Good morning!" chirped her crow, more cheerfully than she felt, "I hope the floor wasn't too-"


Thump Thump.





Blott froze. Was William the type to knock before coming back in? He seemed to at least act like a gentleman...most of the time. Blott, rubbed her left wrist self-consciously. But he hasn't been gone that long, and who else knew they were there? Mr. Nope, maybe? She turned to her companions, raising an eyebrow in question. What to do? Well, whatever, come what may and all.





She opened the door a crack, just enough to peek through. Then she had to look up. Way up. He was tall, like William, but William he was not. Nope. She snapped the door shut with a thud and turned around. "Stranger at the gates." said the bird tersely, "He's tall and scary."

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

Genevieve wiped her eyes one last time and took another deep breath to steady herself. Now wasn't the time to explain that it wasn't Fitz she was worried about but herself. Particularly not when a more imminent threat stood on their doorstep.


Tall and scary. Why are they always tall and scary?


"If he's here to threaten us, he probably isn't going to just go away," Genevieve said, summoning up her courage though her voice was still thick with tears. She stood and clenched her fists. She was in no mood for mysterious strangers but saw no need to prolong the inevitable. She looked at Daisy and jerked her head to the side, motioning for her to move away from the door.


Genevieve wrenched open the door with a jerk.


"Yes? Can we help you?" she said in a cool tone--a put on, to be sure--to the chest she found at eye level. She slowly looked up at the black-clad figure, his face obscured by a hood. And why in heaven's name are the tall and scary ones always hooded?

 

[cloud3332]

The unknown figure slowly lowered his right hand and put it to his side. He cleared his voice and slowly uttered a comment almost shyfully


"Excuse me Miss, but I believe to be confused. I was on top of the Clock Tower back in London and I fell asleep, but it appears to me that I am some other land other than my own." His brown hues flickered before he continues, "Is there any possible way I can seek refuge in this building and ask you some information about this strange land that I currently located in?" His voice quibbles, as he is somewhat shy. Regardless of being intimidated of the new environment, he kept his composure.

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

When Genevieve flung open the door, Lisbeth's heart skipped a beat. A hooded figure, glowing eyes, could it be - ?


No. No, this wasn't Arkadious. There was no tug at her heart, no ache in her chest, no painful familiarity. This was someone else, someone new, but if the past few days had taught her anything, it was that no one crossed paths with them by accident.


Lisbeth folded up the old photograph and tucked it into her pouch on the desk. A fated meeting was not always a happy one. This fellow could not yet be trusted.


He began to speak, his voice quiet and quavering a bit. He sounded... British, perhaps? She thought she caught the word "London." As terrible as she was at Earth geography, she did at least know that London was a city in England.


Lisbeth secured Arkadious's watch in her pouch and then began belting it on. For now she was content to observe the newcomer, but she wanted to be prepared to move in a hurry.

 

[Marianne]

Scooting over to the side, the eastern woman decided to push herself off the ground, bringing the blanket up with her as she stood closer to the wall. Watching as the woman - Genevieve if she could recall - took the situation into her own hands, speaking to the guest in the doorway. His accent, although he was speaking English, was equally as strange to her as was everyone else's. It made her grimace as her curios ears listened to the simple words being exchanged with Genevieve. In fact, all she concluded was that he was a man from some place named 'London', and was asking to seek refuge, although he already was by being in the same building. She didn't voice her thoughts, merely wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, sat back down on the floor, and away from the door for that matter, and smirked as she closed her eyes. Still tired, yet too conscious to actually go to sleep. "What a night," she murmured.

​

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

Genevieve heaved a heavy sigh and shot a glance back at her companions. Turning back to the stranger, she muttered under her breath, "Would that be the London with Nazi werewolves or a different one?" The thought of that incident gave her an unexpected pang of sadness, but this she brushed off. Seeing the stranger's brow furrow at her odd remark, she waved a hand dismissively.


"Never mind," she said. "You're in Shanghai. The year is 1930. This building is an inn at which my companions and I are guests."


Her first inclination was to end the conversation there, close the door and send this man on his way. And yet he just casually mentioned falling asleep in London and waking up here. It was too familiar to ignore, to her great displeasure.


"Do you often wake up in lands that are not your own?"

 

[cloud3332]

He extends his hand slightly outward and opens his hand with the palm pointing towards the ceiling. "This is the first time this has happened before and I am not quite sure as to why." He scratches his head and asks again "If you would allow me to quarter here for the time being, I can tell you more about myself"


He has to find a way to convince him that he is no threat. He does not have anywhere to go otherwise, and most importantly, he has no information on what land he is. If I am left here, alone, I will not be able to avenge the Trent name. I have to establish myself so I can find this man.

 

[ArtBlott]

"Stick around, it'll get weirder," Blott said to the apparently only half-awake Daisy (she hoped it was 'Daisy'). She stepped away from the door to let Genevieve do...whatever it was she was doing. Conversing.


Speaking of which....Blott eyed her crow, who eyed her back just as sharply. Fine, no hat. Be free and obvious.





In the spirit of said obviousness, the crow took flight, landing lightly on Lisbeth's shoulder as the stranger made a bid to...get quarters. Blott thinks he meant 'to stay here', and she scrunched up her nose. "Did he really just ask to stay with a room full of girls?" her crow murmered into Lisbeth's ear. Blott herself was glancing from the newcomer, to Lisbeth, to the window (a possible exit), and back.

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

"Did he really just ask to stay with a room full of girls?" Blott's crow murmured in Lisbeth's ear. Blott herself was glancing around the room with a look of unease, as though she were ready to bolt at a moment's notice.


Lisbeth dearly wished she still had some sort of weapon. She couldn't even use magic anymore. She felt a pang as she realized that she hadn't even gotten the chance to say goodbye to Frostine before she was whisked back to Shanghai. She shook her head; there wasn't time for that now.


She stepped closer to Blott and whispered, "There's four of us here, and one of him. Plus William ought to be back soon. He doesn't know about William yet, which gives us an advantage. We'll be all right."


She cleared her throat and raised her voice so the stranger could hear.


"If he needs help, it would be churlish to turn him away. Let him in for now so he can tell us more about himself. Easier to do that inside than just standing in the doorway. Though I must say, it does seem a might improper for a man to be requesting quarter with a group of women he's only just met."

 

[cloud3332]

"With what little I have, I am forced to take such a risk. I thank you for letting me take refuge at this time and I can assure you that I mean no harm to you or your friends." He slowly approaches closer to the door. With each foot step he took, a pounding sound could be heard as his boots firmly pressed against the hard floor. As he walks into the place, he slowly reaches towards his hood and grasps it with both hands from it's side. His fingers grasped on the leather, making a smooth sound. After which, he slowly pulls the hood away from his head, allowing his head to be exposed.


His head is slim and skinny. His jawline is barely noticeable. He has thin eyebrows. His nose is thin and lowered. His glowing hues, although may appear to be intimidating from them glowing, show innocence by the way his eyes look. His hair is naturally black, however is highlighted blue at the tips.

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

Lisbeth narrowed her eyes as the man walked into the room and lowered his hood. Slender. Weak jaw. Thin features.


"Supporting character," her mind automatically categorized, "Possibly a rival-type. Good-intentioned, but susceptible to seduction by dark powers. Potential to shift to antagonist."


She blinked and tried to push the thoughts aside. Focus. Not everyone was what they seemed. Even William, a Written construct, had his own share of surprises. This stranger may not intentionally mean them any harm, but he could carry with him dangers of a different sort, just as she had involved them all in her own mess with Thanatos.


"Well, then. I am Lisbeth Walpurgis, at your service" she declared with a little bow and flourish, "And who might you be?"

 

[UCBooties]

William allowed his muddy thoughts to wash him back to the room they had shared. He almost didn't notice that someone was standing in the doorway until he had nearly walked into their back. He opened his mouth to apologize and then froze.


A stranger.


He felt a thrill of anticipation and fear go through him at the realization.


So concerned about a stranger, Master Blackiron? A mocking voice whispered at the back of his mind, Whyever for? Everyone is a stranger to you.





William ignored the needling and cleared his throat politely and firmly. No one was fighting yet, so at least the stranger did not have overtly hostile intentions.


"Excuse me, sir. I don't believe I have had the pleasure." William kept his voice firm and disinterested. As the stranger turned he went through the now familiar cataloging.


Humanoid, unnatural coloration of hair and eyes, likely magical influences, possible ties to fae or faery.





William set his feet and wondered which of them would prove faster. The shard of Black Iron House nudged at his subconscious, and he tried not to find the appalling destruction it promised too comforting.

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

As she moved aside to allow the stranger, and now William, to enter the room, Genevieve dipped into a curtsy, which felt a bit awkward in the borrowed pants she was still wearing. She made up her mind to find new, more suitable clothing at the first opportunity.


"Genevieve Moulin" she said. "A pleasure, I'm sure." She did not sound pleased.


If this is indeed his first jump, she thought, he's certainly taking it much better than I ever did. Of course no one is actively trying to kill him at the moment, so I imagine that makes all the difference.


Unconciously, Genevieve's right hand went to her thigh where she usually concealed her dagger, but that weapon had been lost along the way. Everyone else was also unarmed. Their best form of protection for now seemed to be withholding what they knew while finding out as much about him as possible.


"Fortunately we do all still have our own rooms, so there will be no need for the gentleman," she paused after this word, looking him over from the blue-tipped hair to his shoes, "to share with one of us. He can take my room if one of you ladies will allow me to share yours. Besides, I'm not sure our business will keep us in Shanghai much longer. So, darling, why don't you go ahead and tell us your seemingly extraordinary story?"

 

[cloud3332]

Tivurtii slightly turned his head towards Lisbeth and extended his right arm outward. The leather gloves made a sound as his hands open his hand.


"My name is Tivurtii Trent. Pleasure to meet you." He slightly smiles at her, and looks at her face with warm eyes, almost those of a kind person. Tivurtii then turned over to William to respond to him. "No I do not think we have yet. It is a pleasure to meet you. He slowly lets go of her hands to shake the hands of this person. After which, He moves to Genevine and formally extends his hands to her, so they could formally shake. "The pleasure is mine. Thank you everyone for being kind and generous to me."


While he is greeting himself to everyone, he notices that some of the people have the body and facial expressions that are weary for some reason. He accepts this, however and hopes that as time progresses they may be able to trust him.

 

[ArtBlott]

Blott flicked her fingers up in a quick greeting as her crow spoke her name. If he didn't blink at apparent time travel, he shouldn't have any trouble with a talking bird.


Still, she wasn't about to shake hands. Call it personal space issues, call it general distrust, call it what you want, but she found this new comer distasteful. Too polite. Too formal. She wanted to wait. Find that chink in his proverbial armor. William was nervous and awkward. Genevieve was loud and passionate. Lisbeth was earnest and prone to feelings. Daisy was fluttery, if nothing else. Fitz was...gone, actually, she reminded herself. What was this newcomer, then?

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

Genevieve cocked one eyebrow as she considered the newcomer. Polite yet overly forward. And not at all forthcoming.


Clearly the coldly appraising, direct approach wasn't going to work with this one. She would have to try charm instead, though she didn't feel especially charming at the moment. Still, she'd flirted information out of people in worse circumstances. Time to get down to work.


She tilted her head to the side, flashed her most dazzling smile and gently touched his arm with one hand while indicating an empty spot on the floor with a flourish of the other.


"Please forgive our lack of appropriate seating, Mr. Trent," she said, softening her tone. "We are only here temporarily, after all. But now, darling, you simply can't leave us in such suspense. It isn't every day that one falls asleep in London and wakes up in Shanghai, is it? You must tell us about yourself."


Genevieve held his gaze with a frozen smile that she hoped was at once engaging and unsettling enough to push Trent to speak. She sensed her friends' unease and felt it herself in the pit of her stomach. They were all too vulnerable to make mistakes with a stranger.

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

Lisbeth folded her arms and tried not to look impatient. This Tiv- Tiver- This Trent fellow could not have arrived at a more inopportune moment. The issue of Arkadious Grimoire burned in the forefront of her mind - the dreams, the photograph - but she wasn't about to discuss it in front of a stranger, not when they knew next to nothing about him.


Genevieve was gallantly trying a softer approach with the man in order to get him to reveal more of his story, but Lisbeth worried they didn't have time for a proper sit-down chat. If she was understanding the circumstances correctly, time wasn't on their side at all. They needed desperately to find the Architect, and, on what she was growing more and more certain was a related note, Lisbeth needed to tell her friends what she knew - and what she suspected - about Arkadious Grimoire.


For now, though, it seemed that would need to wait.

 

[Arkadious]

Outside Lisbeth's room, the sounds of the nightlife of Shanghai were slowly starting to come alive. Street vendors hawking wares were replaced by shady figures offering indulgences and pleasures of the flesh. From the rooftops across from the nondescript inn, seven pairs of glowing eyes looked in and watched this new figure bumble and introduce himself to Lisbeth and her companions, everyone looking tense and wary.


Within her pouch, the pocket watch Lisbeth acquired from Arkadious started to glow and pulse softly, seven times, and with each pulse, one of the pairs of eyes flared brightly then vanished...

 

[cloud3332]

Tivurtii noticed that Geneviene was politely asking about some of his history. Rightfully so, as he just appeared. He looked over to his left and saw a chair, to which he pulled in front of him and he sat down, leaning forward against the back of the chair. He then explained to the group what occurred.


"To be honest, I have no idea as to how I got here. Often times, I had been teleported to other parts of the world, but never back in time. And I do not have any control over it, that I can assure you." He looks down, wondering how much he should tell them about his mission. After a quick thought, he believed that omitting some of the key details, but giving the general understanding was best. He did not want to involve these individuals in his personal matters or risk their lives. He looks up and he tilts his head, before projecting his voice outward.


"I am after a man that framed me for murder. Although I have exonerated myself of the crime in London, I am guilty in the court of public opinion. The Trent family and it's reputation has been defaced, which leaves me to a course of action of finding the man responsible for all the damage." He looks at the group truthfully before continuing. "I do not feel comfortable disclosing as to whom I am seeking, as I do not want to involve any of you. But rest assured that I mean anyone in this room no harm"

 

[ArtBlott]

"Wait, so," Blott squeezed the bridge of her nose and scrunched her eyes shut, "you're used to spontaneously traveling through space, but not time, managing to find your way back to London each time, except this time you've bounced through time and space, which you're apparently completely fine with, given your lack of freaking out at all." She sighed, rubbing her face and plopping down on the edge of the bed.


"Well, you have picked a rather bad time, pun fully intended, to drop in, but you have rather spectacularly managed to find yourself with the only cluster of people who understand your troubles. Well, some of them. Can't help you with the revenge-murder thing." She waved her hand dismissively before flinging her blackened arm over her eyes, her right hand coming up for her bird to perch on. This was fine. Things were still fine. Still weird. Getting weirder. But fine.

 

[cloud3332]

"I am not fine about it, actually. It gives me the chills to think about it." He puts his head down before scratching his head. "At one moment of time, I was simply asleep. When I woke up, I simply appeared in this time and space."


He looks down again, thinking about the man who wronged his family. "Yeah, and it is best that no one helps with that. I would sleep better at night if I did not stain the hands of innocent people."

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

"I would sleep better at night if I did not stain the hands of innocent people."


Lisbeth could not help the pained look that flicked across her countenance. Oh, to be so young and naïve...


"You do us credit to assume that we are innocent. I am sure that I am not the only one in this room with stained hands."


She sighed and crossed her arms.


"I understand your desire not to involve others in your problems, believe me," she continued, "but your appearance here cannot be an accident, and therefore there must be some sort of confluence of our goals, or some other matter that connects us."


She though for a moment. They weren't going to get much further without giving... Tivurtii - that was it - at least some sort of information. So then, a small risk must be taken.


"We are seeking out someone known as the Architect. By any chance is that at all familiar to you?"

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

Lisbeth was trying so earnestly to discover the connection between the newcomer and their own plight, but Genevieve could not stop the laughter that escaped her lips. Loud and mirthless, the peals of laughter grew until she clutched her stomach and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.


"I'm sorry," she said, sighing as the laughs subsided. "I'm sorry, Lisbeth. I don't mean to interrupt. We need to know about the Architect; you're right. But innocent?"


Here she turned to Trent, her eyes hard and piercing.


"Do you know how many people I've killed, Mr. Trent?" Genevieve asked, her voice now quiet and serious, without a hint of the raucous laughter from a moment before. "More than I can count. But I still see their faces sometimes. True, it was kill or be killed, but each one of those people could have changed the course of history. And I've recklessly sailed across Whens and Wheres, cutting them down to save my own skin. So you needn't worry about staining my hands. I've done that job admirably on my own."

 

[ArtBlott]

Blott's crow fluttered down onto her stomach as she let her hand drop to the mattress. Genevieve's laughter made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Borderline hysterical, she thought. Then again, the new guy (Travertine?) was making rather baseless assumptions about their character. Of course, she was making baseless assumptions about him too.


She sighed loudly through her nose and willed herself deeper into the covers as Genevieve expounded upon the many, many lives she'd taken in her travels. And she was willing to bet William had killed a few sentient persons as well, since 'monsters' were a thing now. So that's the death of maybe dragons, vampires, werewolves - oh, speaking of which, she was willing to bet that the World War Werewolf reality they rushed through was gone by now, so even Blott had, in the past 48 hours, decimated an entire planet. She wasn't sure if she felt bad about that or not though. The whole alternate-universe thing was still something she had yet to take the time and wrap her mind around.


"I don't think any of us here are exactly sinless." She paused, "Well, maybe Daisy over there, but she doesn't talk much. Might secretly be a time pirate or a space ninja or something. Just, y'know, don't get all angsty over endangering us, we're pretty good at wrecking things on our own."