Fantasy The Order of Seven - closed for now

[BELIAL.]

Margaret Bowles

Location	Salon Event - with the group, front of house
Company	Krishna, group
Tags	MechanicalSnake Epiphany -> Cashi idalie

Gabriel continued to speak, and Maggie could only nod along. Clearly, he did not agree with her viewpoint. It was no issue of concern to the woman, as his opinion was but a leaf passing by the mighty oak tree that she was. His unwillingness to engage in dialogue made Maggie believe that he was one who didn't like to challenge his own views. She was similar, finding opposing views just canon fodder, but at least she enjoyed the banter between intellectuals. She had no doubt the man was smart but, well, so far so dull.

He continued to praise himself, only warranting a stiff smile from Maggie. Better to be civil with the colleagues, for first impressions anyway. Although, Maggie wasn't one to care entirely of another's longstanding opinion of her. She had her own mind to deal with, let alone worrying about the inner-workings of another.

Gabriel changed his tune in a moment, shocking Margaret, and in stepping closer to her managed to make her hackles rise. Nevertheless, she kept her face brave as he whispered, "While I realize I am risking that you will consider me entirely inappropriate, I would still like to warn you. This is Bryony Byng creeping in on us and things are about to get very awkward, because I had a brief relationship with her son which she happens to be less than excited about. So if you feel like you need to… step out and powder your nose or something, now is your chance."

"I--You what?" Maggie hissed, looking incredulously at the man, but trying to process all of which came out of his mouth. Her cheeks were aflame at the very notion of what he was saying, and she could only clutch her fan and purse tighter as she saw the woman approaching. She recognized her immediately, from the dossiers and the way she held herself did not betray her station. Lady Byng, in the flesh. Maggie had, like Gabriel, not been so lucky as to meet either back in London. Passing by, perhaps, but otherwise different forks in the road. She was everything lovely, and bright, that she could be. Bryony stood her distance, simply nodding to the company.

"It is... er.... a pleasure, Lady Byng, that you would join us," Margaret purred, though her hands shook terribly in the folds of her dress. She was thankful that before she would have to try and leave immediately, or be dragged into some display of barbed words, that a bell was rung. The main events, finally, and Maggie only nodded to the two before collecting herself and speeding to the stage. She managed to catch up with Clem, taking a bit of a breath to be next to her safety line for the evening.

She was able to fully take in the sights of their group-- which was a ragtag bunch of individuals indeed. The sensation from one of the gentlemen was as if bad news was personified, and although she had expected some brimstone smell, it was more of a sensation. Different than the odour of death that perfumed her skull at the sight of ghosts or supernatural energy, it was more of a solid block. She could almost feel her pulse through the gnawing sensation, and it was with relief that she quickly downed a flute of champagne from a servant's platter. Then she grabbed another and continued into the salon.

Maggie found herself standing to one of the vampires, Krishna Jameson, to which she nodded politely as the show began. She tried not to think too hard about the pounding in her heart, vampires still making her nerves on edge. Jameson, and the other vampiress, were not the monsters that Nathaniel had worked with. They were not the creatures that killed him. If she could simply separate her brain from her skull, and her heart from her chest, then she'd feel absolutely relaxed.

Time would tell, and hopefully her muscles would sink back into her skin at some point.

When they wheeled the contraption on stage, only to reveal a mechanical woman, Margaret could only bite her tongue in anger. She'd been right, at the prospect of some human-like machine, and the idea of it both interested and terrified her. Still, it was a show, and there were no sparking lights or ominous energies. All was well, at the moment.

Taking a quiet sip of her champagne, she watched in absent wonder at the contraption's skill. It sang, not unlike a real woman, and seemed to reverberate deep into the bones. Too human, for Maggie's taste. Her passing french ability allowed her to translate the lyrics a bit, though she was not familiar with it. Maybe she'd heard it around Clem when they had been together in her youth, but otherwise it was unfamiliar.

The show ended, a raucous of buzz and whispering from the audience. A new entertainment joined the stage, and Maggie's eyes followed the machine wheeling offstage.

Then, almost like a knife to the back of her mind, she was doubled over by an extreme wave of pain. It spiked the back of her mind, and the front, and seemed to ruminate right behind her eyes. Out of reflex, but with some sense not to smash the glass flute in her hand, she reached out and gripped the person nearest to her. It was the vampire, and her grip was near vice-like as she fought against the pain. A grunt and hiccuped sigh escaped her throat, Maggie bending at the waist. She turned her head slightly to the vampire, managing to choke out an apology.

"It was you or the glass," she said through gritted teeth. It was coming from backstage, the energy. It wasn't good. She found Clem's eyes, finding her breath and her strength again.

"I-It's an awful hate... Terrible... tragedy," Maggie hissed with a vacant gaze to the stage, still feeling the remaining pulsing from the energy against her wicked mind.

 

[Dominaiscna]

Lilith Beaumont

Upon Giselle's offer, Lilith had accepted a glass of champagne, holding it between two slender fingers. Idly, she tilted the glass around, watching the gold liquid sway and shimmer in the warm light of the room. It had been a while since she had last drank alcohol... and she regretted having never gotten drunk. It would have been an interesting experience she figured, after watching Fabian drink himself under the table multiple times with some of his friends. Unfortunately, her current body rendered it impossible for her to experience any sort of intoxication.

Gently, she lifted the glass to her lips and took a small sip, savoring the champagne with a sweet smile. While doing so, her eyes flitted over the rim of the glass, studying the new arrivals. Each one she recognized from the dossiers, first Miss Bowles, then Mr Gladstone and finally, Lady Byng - the fae. A flurry of movement made her turn to a strange man - who had seemingly appeared out of no where. The aura he exuded confirmed her suspicions that he was the demon, Michael O'Sullivan. What an odd character he was... though nevertheless intriguing. The corner of her lips twitched at his use of words, fleshbags?

Soon after the demon's arrival, the group was ushered into a new room. Lilith remained by Krishna's side, her one hand rested lightly on his arm as they approached the stage. An astoundingly life-like automaton was wheeled onto the stage and, after being wound up, she began to sing a haunting song. Though Lilith could not place the melody, it sounded familiar to her... perhaps something she had heard in a time long passed.

Before long, the song had come to an end. The automaton fell silent and was wheeled off, soon replaced by a quartet of live musicians. Lilith idly sipped on her glass for a moment, eyes once again exploring, when a familiar, iron tang reached her nose. She took in a sharp breathe as her brain registered the smell of freshly spilled blood. It filled the air and seemed to originate from backstage. Turning, her eyes flew to Krishna's face, but he was preoccupied with something else entirely. Beside them, on Krishna's other side, the human known as Margaret was on the verge of collapsing. Every inch of her body was curled with pain and her eyes were glazed and distant. Something was very, very wrong.

In one quick movement, Lilith downed the remaining champagne and handed the glass to a passing waiter. After she had freed her hand, she turned to Krishna, saying in a low but calm voice, "Excuse me for a moment, Mr Jameson, it seems we have some trouble." Her gaze flickered meaningfully to the stage, before returning to Krishna. "I will go ahead, but do join me when you can, I may require your assistance."

Casting one more weary glance in Margaret's direction, the vampire detached herself from Krishna's side. With quick, silent steps, Lilith separated from the rest of the group, fast approaching the source of the smell.

Interactions: Cashi
Mentions: BELIAL. ADarkAndStormyNight Epiphany Naberius

 

[MechanicalSnake]

GABRIEL

Alright, that went well… Not. Gabriel wasn‘t sure if the situation he had gotten Maggie in was any better than being privy to a possibly disastrous conversation involving Bryony Byng and himself would have been – probably not, because she seemed to be experiencing the biggest shock of her life – but, nothing he could do about that now. On occasions like this, he always wondered what exactly it was that seemed to give people heart attacks: the fact that he‘d had sexual intercourse with a man, or the fact that he would casually mention it? It was almost a scientific interest; he was tempted to ask, but the way the woman‘s hands were shaking… She could actually collapse and he refused to be responsible for that.

Luckily, all three of them were literally saved by the bell that announced the performance was about to begin. Drawn by the sound of people flocking towards the open double doors, talking in low, yet excited voices, Gabriel‘s eyes shifted in the same direction and he briefly spotted more of his future colleagues. It was only a brief moment before they disappeared in the salon proper, and so he did not identify all of the humans, but the vampires and the werewolf were impossible to overlook. He was curious about them, of course, especially the vampires, as he had never seen one of their kind before, but the automatons had seemed even more intriguing.

Gabriel flashed a smile at Bryony and nodded in her general direction, partly because it was polite, partly because it might unsettle her, and patiently waited for both women to leave before following in their footsteps. In the salon, he made sure to place himself a few steps away from the vampires, studying them from behind until the curtains were drawn. Then, once again, those supernatural beings were entirely forgotten as the most perfect mechanical replica of a human being appeared on stage. He caught himself staring with his mouth half open, good old jealousy once again rearing its ugly head somewhere in his guts, because this…

He watched breathlessly as the mechanical girl started to sing with a voice so perfect that many people must have initially wondered whether the performace was only a trick and the real singer was hidden somewhere under the flood boards. This was... incredible. Not a mindless toy, although it too served mainly for the amusement od masses. No, this was an invention the likes of which he had described earlier, a real breakthrough. HOW had the cretor achieved such perfection? Was, he, like Gabriel, using wax cylinders, and if so, how could the recording be so clear, life-like? Did he somehow reconstruct human vocal cords? But if so, of what materials, and how would the automaton know what to sing? Could it have been pre-programmed with punch cards? He needed to open it. There was no way he would leave here without seeing the inside, no way in Hell.

The wonder ended way too soon, only to be replaced by mediocre backround music. Gabriel watched it being wheeled away, making a mental note of its probable location. Just as he was coming up with a plan, he noticed that the woman he‘d talked to just a few moments ago actually… did collapse, although it didn‘t seem he was the culprit. As she clutched the vampire next to her in a grip that would have probably injured a less sturdy individual, he registered „awful“, „terrible“ and „tragedy“. Well, that was fabulous. From her dossier, the woman was a medium, which meant she was probably right.

Based on their brief encounter, Gabriel could already guess Maggie was not going to like him, but that hardly mattered, since most people didn‘t and she needed help. As the female vampire vacated her place, Gabriel stepped closer and put his bag on a little table, pushing a tray of champagne glasses aside. „Are you in pain, or about to fall unconscious?“ he asked practically, because he couldn‘t quite tell and the lady probably had experience with these situations. „I have morphium and ammonia.“ As he fished out the little bottles, there was a mewling sound coming out of the bag and a second later, the fuzzy head of Sir William Florence, the only half-mechanical ferret in Europe, peeked out, followed by his front paws, which happened to be his only paws.

BELIAL. Cashi

 

[ADarkAndStormyNight]

Joseph
​

Joseph had to say, he was quite disappointed when the singer providing the incredible automaton voice never emerged on stage- which Joseph chalked up to her having stage fright. He did have to say, she managed to sync up her vocals to the mouth movements quite well, and she was a damn good singer in her own right. He wished to drop a coin in her hat, but unfortunately, her praise had to be left to a simple applause.

That was, unless... No, Joseph thought, it's impossible. But possibly, quite possibly... could he have brought Mary Shelley's vision to life. Was this late inventor the modern day Prometheus himself? Did he create an artificial life? In fact, perhaps, such as in Shelley's novel, the monster had killed the man?

When the animatronic woman had dissapeared off stage, and the band came on, Joseph found himself unable to concentrate on the music, nor willing to consume his champagne (he far preferred wine anyways- the bubbles hurt his throat). He set his glass down, and found himself trembling in potential fear.

What moral quandaries did an artificial human bring up? How human were they? Did they bleed? Breathe? This one did. Could they think? Would they be given the same rights as those of flesh and blood? Joseph was a strong abolitionist- in fact, he was a frequent attender of abolitionist meetings, where he heard the great Fredrick Douglass speak, and had been a frequent subscriber to his North Star newspaper (which he continued to receive during his tenure in France), and he hated the idea that these mechanical people be victims to such horrors, the same so many men already were.

It's nonsense, he tried to reassure himself, until something bizarre happened. He watched as Margaret (whom he hadn't the pleasure of meeting yet), double in on herself. No doubt, she's thinking the same thing as me. She might not have such a resistance to these horrors as I do. I suppose a drink might help ease her mind. But he still pushed on, ignoring these awful repercussions of the potential invention that flooded his mind. That was, until Gabriel (no introductions yet raised), produced a half mechanical ferret, who was given a silly name. Adorable as it may be, this only made the voices echo. If he, possibly a simple engineer no older than I, gave a ferret the ability to walk, breathe, drink, and eat, without half it's body, maybe an aged inventor COULD make a human. This was worrisome, and pushed Joseph over the edge.

He saw the vampire woman, Lilith, walking to the curtain. Aha, thought Joseph, I should join her. Joseph believed there could be only two things behind that curtain- the singer, resting her voice after a good deal of belting, or the mechanical woman, being carted around like a plaything. Investigation MUST ensue. It was his duty, as an educated American, to see no injustice be left unchallenged, for after all, as his forefathers wrote, ALL MEN ARE CREATED EQUAL.

Joseph began walking behind the stage a well, furthering his investigation. Perhaps the Marquis, or even Byrony, knew Mary Shelley! She was English, and he had no doubt their circles reached very far. She wrote extensively on the morals of such a thing, perhaps she knows what to do. Joseph himself could write to Douglass, who he had talked with a few times, and who he looked up to a deal. He knew for a fact that Douglass would not stand for this injustice, and his reach was unmatched in the fields of American injustice.

This could be the most important moment in all of human history, and the way we first encounter these machine people could have lasting implications far in the future. Joseph deserved it to them (potentially) to see it treated right, and free.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Mentions: MechanicalSnake BELIAL. Dominaiscna
Interactions: None

 

[SilverFlight]

The scent his in his nose and Thaddeus' breathe caught. He balled his hands into fists and brought them crossed against his sides a now unthinking reaction he had trained to do; protect people from his claws. The effect subsided as his shock did and he lifted his head to the others.
"I smell blood. A lot of it." he told the others.

A scream split the air. That stopped the music in an instant. people began whispering and muttering, the anxiety in the room climbing. Thaddeus wasted no more time.
He lead the others over to Lilith and Joseph, and then to the little side door that lead behind the stage, to the dressing rooms. Thaddeus followed the scent.
There was a man rushing frantically towards them.
"I am sorry sirs and madams! This area is not for guests!" but Thaddeus held up a badge.
"We are collaborators with the police."
The man blinked and seemed somewhat relieved. "I was just on my way to alert the police. There has been a murder! One of the girls!"
"Please do summon the local authorities, we will begin the investigation immediately."

Back stage was a narrow hallway set with doors to private rooms where the performers could prepare for their shows. One such room was open, light pouring into the dim corridor. Against the wall, sobbing, face covered, was a young girl, obviously the one who had found the victim first. She was frantic, and clearly in need of comfort.
The room was plainly furnished with chairs, a couch and a small window left ajar. There was a dressing room mirror set with candles still burning and in one corner, the Mechanical Muse, the automaton masterpiece that had performed for them just twenty minutes ago, was standing in a corner, frozen just as she had been before her serenade. The victim was in the center of the floor, lying on her back, a young woman, not more than 20, auburn hair done in ringlets and dressed in a gown of blue velvet. The most noticeable thing about the body, was that her throat had been cut open in four pristine strokes, and her vocal chords completely removed. A thin trail of blood ran from her mouth, a result of the gruesome way she was killed. Blood welled from the victim's wound, soaking black into the ocean blue carpet. A knife had been set upon the dresser, also covered in blood.
The dark, hateful energy that could be sensed before had vanished without so much as a trace.

((The game:
There are several things to examine in the room, listed as a set of spoilers, you can look at them all, but please reveal only one IC and let other players reveal some, you can state which one you want to write about on the discord chat in "important messages", to reserve them, but please only do this is you are going to post right away. You can ask as many questions as you like, but I will only be able to answer specific things without giving up the game. You can interrogate more people than the ones listed in the spoilers for every case, it is up to your imagination.))

Spoiler: The victim

The cuts have been done with a surgical precision, the skin about her limbs and torso is beginning to bruise with finger marks, indicating she had been held down with great force. There is little sign of a struggle and no other lacerations on the body. Whoever attacked her was stronger, and likely also caught her by surprise, overpowering her quickly. She likely died from lack of air. The victim is dressed all in blue, light and dark and no patterns are anywhere on the fabric.

Spoiler: The knife

A thin, elegant knife used in some kitchens to cut meat. The handle is inlaid with silver and the blade is covered in the victim's blood. If checked for finger prints (I know its anachronistic), there would be none found. Asking Thaddeus, the blood belongs to the victim. You can write this into your post.

Spoiler: The Mechanical Muse

The muse is still and silent. The hem of her skirt is spattered with blood, likely when the victim was attacked, there doesn't seem to be anything odd about the muse or it's position. It is standing in a corner where it had been put after the performance. Other than the blood on the hem you can't find blood anywhere else. The key is still in the side of her neck, gold, with a distinct pattern carved into the flat:

Spoiler: The open window

The window is open despite the chilled spring air. A tiny scrap of cloth clings to one of the loose nails just outside the sill. The cloth is red silk with what looks like a tiny fish motif. For all intents and purposes it looked like someone caught their scarf on the nail when they were climbing through. They might still be nearby and werewolves have very keen noses.

Spoiler: The young girl

The girl is very upset and must be calmed before she will speak. When she is calmed, she will answer questions. You can speak to me in the discord channel and we'll run the interrogation in a private chat. You can post it in your next post.

Epiphany Naberius Cashi MechanicalSnake BELIAL. laceanddoodles Dominaiscna idalie ADarkAndStormyNight

 

[Naberius]

Michael O'Sullivan

The reactions of the 'team' were precisely what he expected and desired. Let them lament their being paired with one of his kind, those sorts of feelings only fueled him and made him try harder each time. While the others conversed and mingled, he plotted and schemed on his own. He followed at a slight distance to see what was so important and special that such a crowd had gathered to see it, and was...rather put off when he saw the pile of scrap and machinery. The last thing he wanted in the world was more humans, fake or not.

I wonder if it would constitute a breach of my orders and oaths if I instigated a situation in which their precious toy ended up destroyed in an unfortunate accident...

He shook his head, thinking better of it. Not really worth his time, it wasn't a real human anyway and they had actual business to deal with while they were here. The quicker this was over with, the better. Then, just as he had settled in to endure the evening in relative boredom, the scream came. And the glass left his hand immediately. Forced on by the Oaths that bound him for the next near-century, he was there with the werebeast right at the head, complaining the entire time.

Stepping backstage with the others, he gazed across the scene with disinterest. Victim was already dead so there wasn't truly anything he was required to do here. Still though, that insufferable tingle in the back of his mind made it very clear that the oaths themselves did not agree with his logic. He snarled, striding forward and mumbling obscenities under his breath, kneeling next to the murder weapon itself. Honestly he had to admit it was a rather beautiful implement, though not for fighting. More like a slender carving knife, probably for roasts and other similar things. Something like this would certainly slice through muscle and tendons on a human body rather easily, and in fact the blade in question hadn't been cleaned. Blood still coated the length. What bothered him most, on a personal level, was the silver in the handle. Irritating. Standing, he made his way back to what he assumed was to be their 'leader', seeing as he had charged first. As good a reason as any. He approached the wolf, looking bored and annoyed.

"The knife is rather fancy, something you wouldn't normally use as a weapon but certainly sharp enough to do so. Looks like it was intended for cutting pigs, but humans, though. Kitchen knife, good condition and sharpened well. Silver in the handle, and still coated in blood. Whoever got a hold of it had access to the kitchen, either because they work here or know the building well. Have fun with that. I've done everything my Oaths demand, if you need me I'll be over here. If there's anything I can do please, don't hesitate to ask someone else."

Michael proceeded to head a few feet away, leaning against a wall and folding his arms over his chest, looking belligerent and annoyed.

Cashi MechanicalSnake BELIAL. laceanddoodles Dominaiscna idalie ADarkAndStormyNight Epiphany SilverFlight

 

[BELIAL.]

Margaret Bowles

Location	Salon Event - with the group, back room
Company	group, Tad
Tags	SilverFlight

She was at least semi-thankful to the vampire for attempting some kind of sympathetic gesture, as she fought to regain her sense of sight from the once powerful prodding at her brain. Whatever it was had quickly faded away, which led Maggie to believe it was gone entirely. She kept her jaw tight, and with shaking hands downed the rest of the champagne. Gabriel came from somewhere out of her sight, she was recovering from the pang of headache, and presented his bag of... remedies? Contraptions? He asked if she was in any pain or about to collapse, and Maggie could only sneer with a slow-blinking gaze.

"Pain is another word entirely, Mr. Gladstone, but I'll live," Maggie said. A small, furry thing emerged from the bag, making her jump a bit at the sight. "Is that a rat?" Her inquiry wasn't polite in the slightest, moreso from the offer of ammonia or morphium. She shook her head, rummaging in her own little purse for a golden bottle. Carefully crafted by her late husband, and maintained by Margaret's own talents. It was a combination of a couple of drugs, mixed together with a touch of peppermint for the senses. She ripped one of her gloves off and dabbed the liquid against a finger, placing it beneath her nose and between her eyes. Massaging it in, she was able to straighten up entirely now. Her senses perked, seeing that the vampires and werewolf were definitely interested in something backstage as well.

With haste, she trailed behind the creatures most capable of being dealt a few blows, should anything arise from the wings. Though, with the sensation fully gone, she was sure that whatever it was was gone. That, or the feeling itself was the signal of something terrible happening-- not so much a being entirely. Margaret had learned in her time that it wasn't only beings of death, and ghosts and whatnot, that emitted energy. Events, emotions, and trauma left energy behind. Perhaps not so strong as physical manifestations, but nonetheless something entirely. All of it was vital evidence, especially if regular eyes could not see.

Thaddeus Grey, Maggie was sure that that was his name, lead the way. A man met them before they could enter, and he mentioned murder. Maggie's blood ran cold, even if she had known exactly what it was before. It was never easy to hear of murder, especially when it was a girl.

They entered the room, and although the malevolent energy had disappeared, death perfumed the room and Margaret's senses. She stared down at the corpse, a lump forming in her throat. That lump grew bigger upon seeing the slashes to the girl's own throat. Maggie was never one for gore, although a part of her was interested in a morbid, curious way. Still, knowing better than to get close to the corpse at the moment, she set her sights on the first thing her gaze caught next.

The window. She could feel a light breeze whisper in, one of those after-rain evening chills, and it caught her attention like a bright red, flashing light. Without much care to the others in the room if they spoke to her, she advanced across to the window. Catching her ruby red skirts, she could only focus on the window. Reaching it, the woman took care to peer through the glass. The red fabric against a nail took her attention.

Maggie rummaged in her purse, grabbing the glove she had stuffed in earlier. Slipping it on her hand, she hesitantly reached out and plucked the fabric, careful not to rip it more. Peering at the little thing, and thankful she still had her sight, she investigated the pattern. A small motif ordained the side, causing Maggie's brow to furrow. There were still bits of thread on the window, leading Maggie to believe all of this was relatively recent. Whoever fled, mostly likely could be nearby.

The woman whipped around, seeking the gaze of Thaddeus. The demon was announcing whatever conclusions he had made about the knife, which made Maggie's brain begin to whir like a machine. But first things were first, and most presently. She didn't know as much about werewolves as she did about vampires, but she was aware of what the 'wolf' in the name meant. "Mr. Grey, if I could steal you, and your nose, for a moment? Immediately." Maggie asked, her voice wavering, and gesturing to the shred of fabric.

 

[SilverFlight]

Thaddeus listened to the demon carefully, and when his attention was directed to the knife he stepped to the dresser and sniffed the air subtly.
"Same blood." He said for the room to hear. Th knife was more than likely the murder weapon.
"And silver handled, which means no tainted susceptible to silver could have held it."
Maggie's voice called his name and he looked around.
"At your service Mrs. Bowles. How can I help?"
BELIAL.


Epiphany Naberius Cashi MechanicalSnake BELIAL. laceanddoodles Dominaiscna idalie ADarkAndStormyNight

 

[BELIAL.]

Margaret Bowles

Location	Salon Event - with the group, back room
Company	group, Tad
Tags	SilverFlight

Margaret held the cloth to him, crossing the distance, and then looked back to the window for emphasis. "This cloth, I believe our killer may have left it behind in a mad dash for the window. If my suspicions are correct, he could still be in the area. Do you mind... if you are able to... catch a scent?"

She wasn't sure how to handle the situation of Mr. Grey being, well, a werewolf. Man-wolf. Creature that was both man and wolf. She could handle vampires, being undead nightmares personified, but there was nothing so cruel as the curse of a lycan. Most did not choose their life, side effects of a curse such as this one. She wondered in her mind how Thaddeus felt about it, but dispelled those thoughts for more important matters. There wasn't time to be frivolous anymore; there was a second murder to solve.

Next to him, she cleared her throat and ran her tongue over her teeth again. "As well, the... force that I detected earlier. It was not...well, it was a dark force. I'm not sure if it is related to the murder, or to the killer... but I would keep that in mind. Perhaps some of the backstage attendants would have some answers."

 

[ADarkAndStormyNight]

Joseph
​

As he came into the backroom, when the dreadful commotion began, he immediately let loose of his Frankenstein train of thought, as he saw the mechanical woman lying, motionless, where she was left by the hosts of this event. This isn't the time for silly games- we need to move.

He looked around the room, slipping back into a detective's state of mind. He walked over to the victim, who had been left ignored by the others. Her throat was cut, viciously, and her vocal cords removed. That's... odd, to say the least. This had to have been deliberate- perhaps the work of a serial killer? He obviously took great pleasure in the act.

In fact, as he was investigating, he noticed the bruises on her hands.

"Bruises take time to develop- a mortician could help get us an average. The attacker was violent, but there are no signs of a struggle. Perhaps he knew her personally?" he said, to almost no one in particular. He moved up to the cut's on her throat.

"They're thin. Clean. I'd assume our suspect worked with his hands- surgeon, artist-" Joseph started to say, and then stopped. He put two possible leads together.
"Inventor. Perhaps it was a rival of his? I don't doubt that there are people that would want a competitor of his type dead. Gabriel might know a bit about that."

He moved down to the dress. It was especially nice, and dresses this nice usually aren't bought, especially here in France. If he figured out who tailored it, he could ID the victim, in case the girl is no help.

His examination of the dress was finished, and he figured he'd consult Gabriel about leads.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Mentions: MechanicalSnake
Interactions: Body

 

[SilverFlight]

"Very impressive Mr. Lassiter." Thaddeus was impressed, and surprised at the American's seeming change in demeanor. His manner perhaps wasn't well-cultivated, but he was clever, and observant.
"The coroner should be on route with the police. No doubt we can learn about the murder of the inventor as well from them."
He didn't have time for further compliment however, as Thaddeus was needed elsewhere.
ADarkAndStormyNight

He examined the cloth pulled from the window sill, took in the sent.
"Best if I work as a wolf for the tracking, it would ah, look much less odd."
He turned to the others. "We may have a suspect. Mrs. Bowles has just found a clue that may help us find another person who was here in this room just moments before. Would anyone some with us to catch him?"
As there were currently no mundanes in the room, Thaddeus could shift here, the glamour took effect in a moment and what had once been a man was now standing as a very tall, scruffy wolfhound and beneath the magic...a very large wolf.
Wolfhound Thaddeus leapt through the window without a thought, hitting the cobbles of the back alley below. It took him only a moment to pick up the trail and he waited patiently for the interested members to go back out the front entrance and meet him.
BELIAL.

Epiphany Naberius Cashi MechanicalSnake laceanddoodles Dominaiscna idalie ADarkAndStormyNight

 

[Dominaiscna]

Lilith Beaumont

As Lilith approached the backstage, a scream tore through the air. The vampire froze where she was, ears perked. Behind her, the rest of the group sprang into action with Thaddeus at the lead. After gaining access to the backstage, the party made their way into one of the open rooms, where a corpse lay bleeding out onto the carpeted floor. Lilith remained behind for a little while, standing a little outside the room, for personal reasons. The air reeked of fresh blood and the smell flooded her senses. The blood smelt sweet and absolutely mouth-watering. Lilith made a face as if she was in pain, and held up a hand to her nose. She was well-trained, so was in no danger of losing to herself, but it still caused her a great deal of discomfort. After adjusting to the smell, the vampire joined the rest of the group at the scene of the crime. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in as much detail as she could. They had already made speedy progress in the investigation during her absence. As the demon, Margaret and Joseph reported their respective findings to Thaddeus, Lilith approached the corpse of the woman, caring to not get the hem of her dress stained in blood. The smell was much, much stronger here.

The vampire spent a few moments standing over the body, silently studying the corpse before her. Her eyes were unwavering, not in the slightest bothered by the blood and gore, as it roved over the bleeding gashes and gaping wound in the woman's neck. After a pause, Lilith fished out a pair of gloves from her dress pocket, and slipped one onto her right hand. With her left hand gripping her skirts, she knelt down beside the corpse and gently brushed her hand over the woman's face, closing her eyes. She held her hand there for a moment, before pulling back and standing back up.

At this stage, the others were getting ready to track down the suspect using Thaddeus's keen sense of smell. As the werewolf morphed into his wolfdog form and leapt out of the window, Lilith turned to Margaret and addressed her with a smile. "Excellent findings, Miss Bowles. It is good to see you feeling better." After throwing glance to see where Krishna was, Lilith turned back to the human, "I shall be seeing you outside."

In a moment, Lilith's form melted into shadows and out from the smoky darkness, a bat emerged. It circled above their heads before diving through the open window and out into the dark night. In the dim light of the street, she spied the dark form of Thaddeus. She flapped about him, to make sure he was aware of her presence, before landing very gently on the large wolfdog's head.

Interactions: BELIAL. SilverFlight
Mentions: ADarkAndStormyNight Naberius Cashi

 

[idalie]

Clémentine d'Avignon​

Although reassured her arrival had been early, Clémentine couldn’t help but think she’d missed out on some important exchange. It was a dreadfully unsteadying feeling, struggling to avoid her heart sinking over the presumed familiarity the new team may have had. Determined not to be swayed by such silly notions plaguing her night, d’Avignon forced a brighter smile at each introduction. A shame she did not quite grasp their names for the second time.

Selecting a glass of champagne off a nearby waiter, Clem unfolded her fan with a deft flick of the wrist and hid behind it as she threw her head back to polish off the beverage with a few swift gulps. Tonight would not be marred by such silly and feminine qualms which served to distract her from the goal at hand. Taking the edge off her nerves and settling her uncertainties, they convened in another larger room with the other guests. Extinguished wicks from the chandeliers allied itself to the gloomy setting, spindly wisps of smoke vanishing toward the tall ceilings. In the midst of the short lull she sought out Margaret in the crowd, offering a small apologetic smile before the curtains opened.

There sat a girl, bathed in the white glow of the spotlight. Au Clair de la Lune, a lullaby? Clémentine initially wondered whether this was the prelude to some great mechanical feat and yet upon closer inspection, the awe of the room was made clear. From where her chest rose and fell to expel each lyrical hum, the joints and dazzling glass eyes set Clem on edge. It felt inherently wrong how human that metal thing on the stage seemed, a far stretch from the small animals that hopped about on springs.

Still, she pondered, whether the automaton would ever hear it’s own melody.

Coming to the end of its programmed performance, they wheeled the invention off and replaced it with the glowing liveliness of human faces once more. Amidst the applause and brimming chatter, the room was in high spirits and the conversations held enthusiastic vigour.

Margaret would soon take a turn for the worse, suddenly doubling over and grasping for the vampire whom she presumed was Krishna. Hurrying over, there was nothing one could do. A doctor perhaps could prescribe something but Clem believed Maggie to already have seen someone about her strokes of ill health. It was all, of course, interlinked with whatever her dear cousin saw and felt beyond the realm of the living - a power that without similar practitioners must have been lonely.

Without further ado, Thaddeus and their two colleagues began to head backstage before a scream interrupted the gathering. Sending people scattering as the severity of the situation was understood. A murder. This was the reason for the Order’s interest? Clémentine’s head spun with lesser thoughts before she came face to face with the corpse as the others had. Her face fell with the sight. A girl no older than herself, bringing a sickening and nauseous sensation with it. Investigation had never been her strong suit, yet listening to Margaret and the others share their findings Clem was attentive.

Following Mag’s train of thought and Thaddeus’ shifting, few headed to the window and it was rather expected the rest of them would join after exiting through the front entrance. Nevertheless, easy wasn’t Clémentine’s chief concern. Minding the crime scene and following to the window, she gathered up her dress till the white of her bloomers was exposed and squished the hoops of her crinoline together into an oval. Then, releasing one side she held the window frame and proceeded to shove her skirts through before turning around and peering over the sill at those still in the room.

“An easy climb! Mes excuses for the show,” She called before a short descent.

Stumbling on her choice of shoe with a little mud licking up at the hem didn’t hurt, but Clem scowled and confounded her formal attire in colourful French curses, all which seemed rather pleasant to the English-speaking ear.

Brushing herself off, she aimed a flushed smile at the wolfdog and its tiny rider. “Wasn’t so bad, was I?”

 

[ADarkAndStormyNight]

Joseph
​

As many times as Joseph saw the transformation sequence of a werewolf (though mainly that of a rabid werewolf, which then proceed to be punctured by a variety of fine silver weapons), he still felt a bit of awe at the whole process. In fact, it was great to witness it in a way that didn't mean a fight had started. Had the situation not been as dire, he would've taken time to admire the effect.

Joseph, for all of his faults, was indeed smart enough to know why Thaddy transformed into a wolf, and lept out the window. He was a wolf, after all, and wolves, if anything, were known for their excellent noses. Joseph was also happy to see that Thaddy lingered behind outside the window- in all honesty, Joseph knew he was a better fit for confrontation that comforting, and, if his man Thaddeus did his job right, Joseph might get a chance to show off his skills.

Joseph, however, was quite confused as to why the girl who introduced herself as Clementine decided to begin removing her dress. He glanced aside (which years of experience taught him was usually the right thing to do), and waited for her to finish. When he looked back, the girl then proceeded to jump out the window, joining the others. She said something cheeky in the midst of all that, which Joseph ignored.

Well, Joseph thought, I certainly was NOT expecting that. He smirked a little- in the midst of everyone being so serious, prim, and proper (or outwardly obnoxious, in the case of a certain demonic individual he already expressed a distaste for), it was nice to see someone just sorta... not doing that? He didn't really know how to explain it, but it was refreshing to see he wasn't alone in his lack of professionalism- if not even challenged.

He walked to, and peered out the window.

"I'm gonna follow all of you- not gonna jump though, the doors good enough, and I don't want break a leg this early into the job" he yelled down to the party outside the small saloon, and he descended the way he came, passing by the commotion.

Ok, in all honesty, he had another reason to not jump. As he passed back through the parlor, he took advantage of everyone looking the other way to pocket a few of the snacks... and drink a couple glasses of the finest French champagne.

After getting his share of the concessions, he joined the group outside.

"Pleasure to see you all again, it's been a while," Joseph said with a grin, looking at them all.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mentions/Interactions: idalie SilverFlight Dominaiscna

 

[MechanicalSnake]

„What…?“ Gabriel managed, somewhat confused, before turning over his shoulder and realizing what the woman was referring to. „Sir William Florence is most certainly no rat! And he is a marvel of science,“ he snapped back, quite through with keeping a polite tone as his offer of help hadn‘t been appreciated. One would think someone who carried their own drugs in a ladies‘ purse would be less judgy, but oh well, he would refrain in the future. There was, pressumably, a horrible tragedy somewhere backstage, and their task was to deal with it; nobody had ordered them to be on friendly terms while doing so.

Just as he managed to pack his things, there was a terrified scream coming from the backstage area and everyone who belonged to the Order pretty much bolted in its direction, the werewolf taking the lead. When Gabriel arrived, the room was already overcrowded with the majority of his colleagues doing what they were best at, only two or three missing. His eyes quickly scanned the scene, registering the various points of interest: the fresh corpse, the window and… the automaton, a silent witness, smeared with blood.

Silently, his mind began to catalogue all the information already available and file it in order to form theories: The killer was most likely human with considerable strength and the skilled hands of a surgeon – or, indeed, inventor. The victim had been strangled, her vocal chords removed. Gabriel walked closer to the corpse to inspect the incision and confirm the American‘s findings for himself. „You are correct in all your conclusions, except for the fact that strangulation bruises can form within minutes,“ he agreed, „so the victim might in fact be quite recently dead.“

There was no denying that the two murders were connected, but if a rival had indeed wished to remove competition, why kill this girl, too? „It is peculiar,“ he said aloud, as it sometimes helped him think. „It certainly does look like a jelaous rival wanted to enact revenge on mr. Brunfeld. But Brunfeld is already dead, how does the killer benefit from killing the girl too? Except perhaps she was related to the inventor, or provided the voice for the automaton, then I can imagine… Otherwise, removing her vocal chords would only serve to expose the killer and point us in the right direction. Of course, that is also something the killer might have wanted, if mad enough – to be exposed and boast with his work, or rather the reason behind it. But there is another option, too: that the whole thing is a sham and someone is desperate to point that out. Perhaps that voice wasn‘t produced by the doll at all, but by this dead girl here! After all, Brunfeld is a nobody in this field, or has been until now...“

Gabriel had no idea whether anyone was interested to hear his theories – probably not, because the werewolf could, apparently, catch the murderer‘s trail, and that seemed more urgent at the moment, whereupon the room emptied quickly as others followed him to start a chase. Part of him marveled at the way the supernaturals had shifted into their animal forms, longed to understand HOW that transformation could have taken place, how did the bones and muscles in their bodies change, and where did all the extra mass go in case of a bat transformation. And how about their clothing, did it just disappear? Would they materialize on the streets of Paris naked? In any case, those were questions for later.

There were but a few of them left, and a sobbing girl. Now, a wild chase through the street of Paris sounded like great fun, but Gabriel couldn‘t participate, because this was his time to do what he longed to do, and the time was limited by the impending arrival of the police and coroner. Almost stealthily, he approached the automaton and put his bag on the ground so that he could get the fine tools he needed. Immediately, Sir William, who was pretty bored with being carried around, jumped out and began sniffing at the bloodied hem of the automaton‘s skirt. „Leave that be,“ Gabriel instructed him without real intention in his voice, and began to assess the mechanism.

It was a masterpiece without doubt, tampering with it seemed like sacrilage, but Gabriel trusted his own skill enough to believe he would be able to put back anything he was about to remove. First, though, his eyes fell on the key, which seam to bear some kind of… symbol. A bird, easy enough to remember. A swallow, if one could judge by its tail. He would have to remember that for later. At the moment, he was busy with finding the best way to open that thing without causing damage. Soon, he discovered the breast plate could be easily removed, and so could a small area around the key, fixed with tiny screws. „I will put this back together,“ he announced in case anyone wished to object, unceremoniously pushing the automaton‘s dress off its shoulders, and started to unfasten the screws. First, he removed the larger plate and, resisting the urge to look inside, he moved on to the other, smaller one, that would reveal the vocal chords, if there were any to reveal. For a moment, he imagined that he was going to see real vocal chords there, masterfully connected to the machine – wouldn‘t that be a real breakthrough? And it would also explain one of the murders: to replicate this, one would actually need to obtain another set of human vocal chords… He shook off the idea and, with both the torso and neck of the automaton open, looked into its insides.

( SilverFlight : asking for info on the way the automaton works and if there is anything odd about it based on my thinking throughout this post: ))

 

[Cashi]

- Krishna -​

A sharp pain had Krishna snapping his head to where the pallid, dark-haired woman was near doubled-over at his side, her knuckles white where they clenched his forearm in a grip he winced to think about enduring as a human. He could’ve sworn, with his heightened hearing, he heard his bones grind. Krishna leaned towards the woman, bending to follow her gravitation downwards as his other hand came up to clasp her elbow, concern etching itself onto his dark-featured face.
“Good gracious, are you quite alright?” His tone was even but full of caring.
The woman made a noise of distress, then faced him, the planes of her face taut with pain.
”It was you or the glass.”
Krishna couldn’t even muster a smile as he carefully considered her, debating reaching out with any magic he had to ease her pain. BELIAL.

Before he could reach a conclusion, the long-haired gentleman from earlier appeared on his other side in the space that Lilith had vacated, to offer assistance to the woman holding on to Krishna. Distantly, Lilith’s warning of her imminent investigation drifted back to him. He would have to catch up with her later.
The gentleman was in the process of offering the stricken woman an antidote in the form of drugs when the smell of blood hit Krishna, sharp and warm and steely.
So that’s why Lilith left so swiftly...she is much better at these vampire matters than I.
He watched with interest as the ragtag group that seemed to be their new unit within The Order made their rapid venture to the backstage area when a scream split the peaceful atmosphere of the theatre and the scent of panic, thick and instant, filled his nose.
The woman who had gripped him was gone, as was the young girl who had come up behind her--Clémentine, he believed she had called herself. This night had begun peculiar and unsettling and only seemed to be taking a turn for the worst. Sweat and fear came from almost every body in the room, and the smell of blood still hung heavy in the air, so dense and cloying that Krishna knew that wherever the source of blood was, whomever had bled was likely no longer alive.

A charging bloke in a peacock-green felt suit knocked into Krishna’s shoulder and rebounded, almost comically, as though he had come into contact with a marble pillar rather than a relatively normal looking man. This snapped Krishna out of his reverie enough that he murmured an apology and swiftly wound through the skittering crowd towards the rest of their ensemble and the backstage.
He dodged a woman in lavender, then--in his haste, despite all his newfound feline grace, Krishna failed to accommodate the frantic movement of a server holding a tray of glasses who came barreling out on his left. The man crashed to the ground, glass raining around him, and Krishna was immediately on a knee, offering him a hand up.
“Do forgive me, old chap,” he exclaimed, casting a frantic glance towards the backstage door where his entourage had disappeared several minutes earlier. He hauled the server to his feet, trying and failing to be courteous as he brushed shards of glass off of the man with his bare hands, too distracted by the smell of blood and the scream to really pay attention. In a swift motion, he picked up the server’s tray and handed it to him, then continued his brisk pace through the backstage doors.

The smell of blood was harsher here, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. Hunger, then nausea, roiled through him, and it took several steadying breaths through his nose to uncloud his thoughts. His sight first went to the young and terrified girl that Giselle was already attending to, seemingly finishing her questions on whatever had happened inside the door he could just see the group gathered through.
Krishna caught up to Giselle, peering into her face inquisitively. He switched attention to the girl, eyes quickly ascertaining her for any injury; despite being absolutely shaken, possibly traumatised, she seemed unharmed. He nodded curtly at her, then Giselle, then peered into the dressing room. laceanddoodles

Strangely, his gaze first snagged on the automaton, where she stood in the corner like a peaceful ghost, her cheeks rosy and eyes glassy. Then down to the blood on her dress, then further, down, down to the corpse crumpled on the floor and all the blood pooled around her.
Again, that sensation of hunger followed by nausea.
Again, Krishna quelled it.
The examination made by the Mr. O’Sullivan of what appeared to be the murder weapon reached Krishna’s ears belatedly, and the subsequent insight to the state of the body by Joseph had him questioning what an inventor with access to the kitchens would want with what appeared to be a singer.
Or at least, her vocal cords.
Krishna’s eyes flashed to the automaton again, wondering what her vocal cords were made of.

He turned his attention to the body once more, taking a moment to lament the loss of a life so young and seemingly innocent. It warmed his dead heart to watch his fellow vampire do something as simple and kind as close the victim’s eyes.
The moment to lament was soon over as the man called Thaddeus shocked the life out of him--no jest intended--by transforming into a dog similar to the ones Nate used to bet on in races.
Before he had time to gather his thoughts and react, half their party was out the door or the window, including, Krishna noted with some ominous sense, Lilith, who shifted fluidly into bat form and shadowed Thaddeus.
How she transformed at will so easily Krishna would never understand. Perhaps she could teach him.
Even the young girl named Clémentine had hiked up her skirts in an almost amusing manner and hopped out the window with little ceremony.

Krishna took a look around at the rest of the group and decided he may as well stay for when the constables arrived, especially since most of the people who had given a preliminary examination on the murder scene had exited, pursued by a dog. Or lead by one, in this case.

A few careful steps around the body put Krishna at the window sill, where he watched his compatriots assemble outside, ready to chase whomever had left the scrap of cloth that the dark-haired woman had discovered.
What seemed barely an hour into the evening and already things were more exciting than Krishna had bargained for.

”I will put this back together.”
Krishna realised, with no small amount of shock, that the long-haired man who had made sensible speculations earlier, was now insensibly disassembling the automaton.
He cast a wary glance to the door, certain this would not be taken well by any theatre staff, including the man who had gone for the constables, then circled his attention back to the long-haired gentleman.
“I really don’t think you should be doing that.” MechanicalSnake

Mentions: ADarkAndStormyNight SilverFlight Naberius idalie Dominaiscna

 

[Naberius]

Michael O'Sullivan

Michael watched the others deliberate and investigate, exchange notes and theories and clues they've picked up. He listened and paid attention to the important bits just in case, but the over all situation was something he simply didn't care about. One less human was a good thing, as far as he was concerned. But unfortunately that still meant that there was something or someone out there murdering people and even though he didn't care about the deaths of a few humans, he was forced to do everything he could to help deal with it.

"As fun as bantering with the local human authorities sounds like just the most fun I could ever imagine, I will graciously leave that to the rest of you in favor of...being anywhere else but here."

His physical form bubbled and melted as he neared the window the others had gone out through. By the time he was standing in front of it, he had donned the physical appearance of body of a small black cat with with piercing silver eyes and a white tip on his tail. He leaped upon the windowsill and down into the city below, moving to follow the hound and the others to chase their prey.

SilverFlight Cashi laceanddoodles BELIAL. MechanicalSnake ADarkAndStormyNight idalie Dominaiscna

 

[BELIAL.]

Margaret Bowles

Location	Outside salon - back alley
Company	outside group, canterbury tales style
Tags	SilverFlight idalie Naberius Dominaiscna ADarkAndStormyNight

The unnatural still made Margaret... uncomfortable, but she tried not to display this as Thaddeus shifted into a wolf right in front of her face. Although he had glamoured himself to appear like a normal dog, a wolfhound at that (on the nose, if she were to say so herself), she still reveled in how large the dog was. Out the window he went, soon followed by Lilith-- turning into inky darkness, then a bat-- and finally her very own Clémentine. Maggie could only stare, a tad dumbfounded, as her cousin managed to squeeze her dress and hoops through the window.

"Clémentine!" Margaret gaped, but out she went into the night. A sigh emitted from the woman, though she couldn't blame the blonde for going straight out the window without thought. She peered out for a moment, hoping that the girl was safe-- indeed, she was. Taking a step back, she noticed that Joseph joined her out the window, calling out to the others that he was joining. Her face contorted a bit, wondering how many would join on the sudden venture into the darkness. Was there a need for this many? Would the others be fine on their own?

'What matter is it to me, anyway? I'm the one who found the damned fabric, I should see this out. If this force was... not just the murder, and something else, I would like to be there and... warn the others, should it return.' Maggie thought, already making conjunctures in her head based off of the growing amount of evidence. She followed Joseph out of the room, in time to hear the demon rattle off about his own escapade out the window.

She didn't make much talk with the man, simply trailing him as they exited the building. She wasn't one for daring exits, nor catapulting herself out the window as if she were a bucket of excrement.

Outside, she looked to the others. What an unsightly crew that had assembled! A massive dog, a bat, a cat, Clem, the American, and Maggie herself. Still clutching the fabric, on the off chance that Thaddeus could lose the scent, Maggie looked back up at the window.

"Well, now that the entirety of Chaucer's literary imagination has joined for the chase, shall you lead the way Mr. Grey?"

 

[SilverFlight]

Thaddeus waited for the others who would follow, he did not expect someone to follow him out the window. He was even less prepared for the lady with skirts hiked up to her chest to appear and jump.
Thaddeus' ears nearly stood straight on end and he slammed his gaze to the ground with a short whine.
When she was on the ground beside him (and properly covered) he shot her a look that was half horror and half concern, but on the face of a dog, it simply looked silly.
With the party ready, Thaddeus wasted no more time. He put his nose to the ground and began to pick out the trail among the plethora of scents on the street.
This way and that he wove, up alleys and down stairs, he had to double back once or twice, but his sense of smell was excellent. If he lost track of the party he would turn and draw their attention with a very delicate "woof", and it wasn't long before the trail went hot.

With a bark Thaddeus took off, and soon the sound of footsteps just ahead of him echoed against the tall balcony-laden houses.
The runner was fast, his face shrouded in darkness. He was a young man, and not incredibly strong or formidable.
Thaddeus kept up, but he wouldn't take the man down, afraid he may scratch the suspect with his claws. Instead, he grabbed a tail of the man's coat and pulled, waiting for one of the others to make a move, hindering the runner as much as he could.
((Feel free to tackle the suspect))
Dominaiscna ADarkAndStormyNight idalie BELIAL. Naberius

The automaton was indeed a masterwork, cams and gears shaped to perfection and fit so snugly inside the machine's chest there was hardly room for the bellows which provided air for the voice. When Gabriel lifted the throat panel away what he saw would astound even the most experienced machinists: The mechanism was metal, and delicate pieces of black rubber, set with a hundred different moving parts, but for all intents and purposes, it was almost precisely like the voice box of a living human, perfectly recreated to produce the most faithful imitations. Gabriel was right; one would need to have seen the real thing in great detail in order to have recreated it like this.

"What are you doing?!" A man's voice sounded from the door when he saw Gabriel had tampered with the automaton.
"I thought you were 'elping the police! Why would you sabotage such a priceless work of art!" The man was clearly upset, after having one of his star singers murdered in his own establishment, the owner of the salon had had much more than he could take. Gabriel's tinkering was the straw that broke the camel's back.
"Out! Get out!"
At this point, two larger men came up behind the owner, making it clear that if Gabriel did not comply, he would be removed forcibly.

It was only moments after this that the police arrived, and the coroner, who had clearly been dragged from his house at this hour to perform the late-night declaration.
He looked tired, and somewhat resigned, as if this thing had happened before, recently. he also looked like me may be open to answering questions, if some cared to ask.
"Another," he whispered under his breath. "Not another..."
MechanicalSnake laceanddoodles Cashi Epiphany

 

[MechanicalSnake]

Gabriel allowed himself the tiniest of moments to lift his head and smile at the man who had spoken to him; a warning, subtle enough not to actually interfere with his actions. From the dossier, he remembered him as the vampire named after some kind of Hinduistic deity... Krishna? He was vastly different from the Indian servants Gabriel's father used to employ - if the measly wages he paid them could even be called employment - everything about him chiseled into perfection. Even his voice was lovely. "Yes, I believe I should not. However, that hardly matters, because it needs to be done." Worse things have been done in the name of investigation - houses have been broken into, people threatened, bodies stolen from the morgue. Surely a detective sometimes had to operate in the gray zone between what was legal and what was necessary. A police officer could simply confiscate a suspicious object until the investigation was over, but they weren't authorized to do that, and so...

As he looked inside the masterwork, excited like a child that has been given five pounds to buy anything it desired in the sweet shop, Gabriel instantly became aware that the fact this had to be done in the name of investigation was nothing but a handy excuse. He would have done it anyway, because it was so... so worth it. There were, of course, no human vocal chords lodged in the automaton's neck, but there just as well could have been, because the replica bore an uncanny resemblance to the organ. The craft itself was quite amazing, and while Gabriel felt he would probably be able to recreate it, it would take him months, if not years of huge errors and tiny successes, even now that he's seen it. It was different with animals. He was confident with how their bodies worked because he could dissect them, experiment on them and get familiar with each muscle without breaking the law. And that was precisely why he knew that in order to achieve such perfection, the inventor needed to have the same familiarity with the way humans produced voice, which could only mean one thing...

He was just about to call Krishna to come have a look, when his time, regrettably, run out, as a booming voice coming from the door angrily informed him. Gabriel sighed for himself; he had hoped to be finished faster and avoid this scene, but the one time you needed the police to be as slow as they usually were, they materialized way too soon. Or were those just the owner's gorillas? In France, he couldn't be quite sure. Having been yelled at for various reasons countless times in the past, he knew the worst thing he could do was to argue. The man was obviously upset with not just Gabriel, but the entire course of events the evening had taken; the wise thing to do was let him yell until he, somewhat, ran out of breath. With a nod of acknowledgment, he picked up his things and vacated the room in a casual pace, as though he had been asked politely, hoping that this would make a better impression with his new colleagues than if he had attempted to flee or screamed something back only to be carried out. Confusedly, Sir William Florence quit sniffing and licking at the blood on the floor, briefly stopped to inspect Krishna's right leg, and followed Gabriel out, leaving tiny paw prints behind.

"My most sincere apologies, gentlemen," he said gently as soon as the door was closed and the owner a little less red in the face. "I absolutely agree with you, it is a most priceless work of art. In fact, opening it almost felt like a sacrilage. However, I can assure you it has not been sabotaged, merely inspected, as I deemed necessary to do so within the investigation. Seeing as the victim's vocal chords have been removed, we couldn't but conclude that these things are related. Opening it will most probably help me put the clues together." He produced the most charming smile that, along with flattery, generally got him straight A's at university, timidly picked up Sir William, who wouldn't stand still and could easily be stepped on, and presented him to the red-faced man. "I believe we haven't been introduced yet. My name is Gabriel Gladstone and I am an inventor myself - this here is my work. If you allow me, I can fix everything in no time. But should you not want me to, I assure you even a lesser mechanic will be able to put the automaton back together. I have merely removed a few screws to open the panel, nothing inside has been tampered with. I do see now that I should have waited for your return to ask permission, but I allowed myself to be swept away by the quick pace of the investigation."

SilverFlight

 

[ADarkAndStormyNight]

Joseph
​

Great, out of everyone that could join us, the fucking DEMON decides to tag along. If it was not incredibly obvious at this point, Joseph wasn't the biggest fan of the demon. In fact, he was starting to think that this party was becoming significantly crowded- a thought he realized was fact as he noticed that the woman his memory told him was Margaret was following him out of the room.

I can only hope that she didn't see me take all that food.

It was also becoming evident that he was not too familiar with everyone in his group. In fact, he really did not do a good job interacting with everyone as they arrived. And it's pretty obvious that it was a little past the hour to make introductions, what with a murderer on the loose.

And so he followed his half human, half wolf friend, chasing him down alleys and streets of this small French town. He moved remarkably fast, in fact, and much faster than Joseph (and Joseph wasn't a half bad runner himself).

In fact, Joseph felt kind of weird about the whole "werewolf" thing. He was never really on a werewolf's side the way he was now, and in all honesty, he didn't know how much he could trust Thaddy being his human self while trapped in that form. Right now, however, Joseph knew that nothing that bad was happening, so he pushed aside his worries, and carried on chasing.

After a while of chasing, Thaddy managed to catch whoever it was he was chasing, trapping him with his coat tail.

Good boy, Joseph thought, and then added an addendum- If that's not a weird thing to say to a werewolf.

Joseph approached the suspect quickly, using the extra time Thaddeus had given them to pin him against a wall.

"You see," Joseph said, pressing the man against the wall hard, "me and my friends have a couple of questions. And you appear to be the only one around to answer them."

Joseph withdrew the silver knuckles from his inner jacket pocket. He didn't intend to use them, but the suspect wouldn't know that. It was a little harsh, but that's how he learned to get answers back in America, and it rarely failed. He also hoped that one of his companions could join in, and complete the whole Good Cop/Bad Cop thing he was setting up.

"And in case you think about running off again, my wolf here hasn't eaten yet today. And he has an insatiable appetite." Another lie, but hopefully an effective one.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Mentions: SilverFlight BELIAL. idalie Naberius Dominaiscna

 

[Cashi]

- Krishna -​

Krishna brought a tired hand to his eyes as he heard numerous footsteps round the corner and make quick work down the hall, arriving at the scene of the crime with little fanfare.
The proceeding altercation between the long-haired gentleman and the authorities went about as well as Krishna had anticipated, the theatre manager visibly, and understandably, distraught. It ended with the theatre manager pointing the long-haired gentleman out the door with a thinly guised threat of brute extraction.
It was at this point that Krishna had come to the fool-proof conclusion that he would lie through his front teeth. He had the conversation one-sidedly mapped out in his head.
"Why, my most righteous and upstanding sirs, surely you cannot be threatening the inventor's very own most cherished apprentice?!"
Thankfully, he didn't need to. The long-haired man peacefully showed himself out of the room, something small and dark scurrying after him. Only when it paused to give Krishna's trousers a good, long sniff did he realise it was a ferret--or...at least...what was left of one. The back half of the creature was made of mechanical parts neat as clockwork, and like clockwork the gears in Krishna's head clicked to understanding.
No wonder he wanted to examine the inside of the automaton. Had I known, I might have offered to be look-out.
MechanicalSnake

The man left the room, and Krishna turned his attention to the head officer, who looked for all the world like someone who'd kicked a cold only to find it back again three times as strong.
Krishna stepped gingerly over one of the girl's hands and came to a halt in front of the constable. He drew up his most professional, no-nonsense voice and cleared his face of expression, eyes intense.
"'Another'..?"
SilverFlight

 

[laceanddoodles]

Giselle
​

She was good at one thing, and that was talking to people. So as the rest of the team split off to examine the corpse, the knife, the window, what have you, she gravitated immediately to the terrified and sobbing girl. Krishna followed close on her heels, examining the poor thing for injuries while Giselle talked to her in soft tones, easing her fears and coaxing information out of her. Giselle understood. She knew what it was like to be frightened young girl who bore witness to something terrible, and to be asked questions and asked to relive it. The girl in front of her had not been there for the act of murder, itself, mercifully. She had been sent to find Marie, the victim, when it was time for her act. Fear was something Giselle could handle. She was easily the least intimidating member of the group, which was to her benefit, in this moment.

Slowly, she got the girl talking, and Giselle learned that Marie had been the star singer of the salon. She was popular, with friends and a family who loved her. She had a secret lover, whom her parents disapproved of, but the girl told Giselle that he was kind, and a gentleman, and he often came to see her backstage, coming in through a window. Giselle did her best to keep a soft smile and kind eyes, even as she was reminded of her own Marie.

The Marie that Giselle had known was a year older than her. She was all sharp angles and harsh lines, something many girls would lament, but not her. Marie had been an intellectual, she loved philosophy, especially Voltaire. Men often called her a force of nature, or, if they were more confident that Marie was not within earshot, a bitch. She and Giselle could laugh together for hours on end, or get into deep conversations that lasted half a night. Marie had taught Giselle so much about confidence-- about laying down boundaries and then keeping to them, about not apologizing just because you think it would make things easier, about not being afraid to laugh or shout or take up space.

This was a different Marie, albeit just as dead.

"We'll have to send some sort of condolences to the family," she murmured, looking up just in time to see the police.

"Hello, Officers, Monsieur Coroner," she said, her voice louder and more clear. She shot Krishna a worried glance at the mention of other potential murders. What an awful situation...


Mentions: Cashi SilverFlight

 

[Epiphany]

"I'm afraid so."

It was unclear exactly where Lady Byng had been all this time or how she'd managed to be in the small dressing room apparently without notice. But for those in the Order, those who'd familiarized themselves with the Fairy and her known abilities, several possibilities presented themselves. Perhaps she'd shifted down to a thumbnail in height and let another in the Order carry her in with them, only to discreetly resume her normal size. Or perhaps it was 'mere' Fairy Glamour. The means were likely less important than the simple presence of the woman who now shared the room with the others.

Bryony regarded the police and the coroner with a look of firm determination, her composure untouched by the tragedy of the poor corpse lying beside her.

Cashi MechanicalSnake
"It's the reoccurrence that especially arouses our interests," the blonde woman said with the kind of even, measured tone that suggests business-as-usual. Bryony then gave a brief nod in Krishna's direction and added, "My associate, Mr. Jameson, can present our formal credentials for your consideration, Monsieur. While you examine their fidelity, perhaps one of you might escort our other associate back into this room to finish his examination? This is the second murder that's occurred in connection with this...machine," and a flicker of a grimace crosses her face and vanishes as quickly as it came. "Mr. Gladstone's skills will be invaluable to this investigation."

laceanddoodles "As will the testimony of the witness, who Lady Laurent has tenderly seen to. I trust any questions you have for the poor girl will be asked with the greatest of sensitivity given the circumstances." Bryony's gaze drifted from the police and the coroner back to Giselle and, if the other woman noticed and made eye contact, the Viscountess Enfield acknowledged her with an approving nod.

SilverFlight

Turning back to the police, the Fairy's eyes gleamed perceptibly. Surely a trick of the light. "Now then. Might I suggest Mr. Jameson assist your coroner with his inspection? Lady Laurent can assist with a witness statement. Mr. Gladstone can see to the automaton, which is so far the one clue in common between two murders. And," she added, taking a small step forward closer to whoever among the police seemed in charge, "Might I suggest we discuss the particulars of those two murders? A cursory glance at the evidence alone suggests certain peculiarities. The attacker took his victim by surprise, since the discovery of the crime happened after it was committed. The killer seemingly had the time to do his ghastly work but appears to have appropriated their surgical instrument along the way, perhaps from the kitchens here, given the knife is not a scalpel and given the killer left it behind. That would ordinarily suggest a lack of premeditation but the lack of further evidence as it were suggests the killer brought along means to transport their trophy from the scene without leaving further traces."

Embers danced in the depths of her grey eyes as she spoke to the official men, her tone growing softer and more lulling during the delivery of her observations. She took another step or two, closed the distance between herself and the lead police and promptly produced a calling card which she proffered. "My introductions. Now, why don't you start from the beginning of what happened in the prior murder? And perhaps divulge if there are any other killings or perhaps missing persons reported in connection with this automaton or its inventor?"

 

[SilverFlight]

"Ah!" The youth cried out as he was pinned against the wall. "Let me go!" He struggled for a moment before the silver knuckles appeared in his view and he stilled. At his throat, a delicate silk scarf was carefully tied, the motif was the same pattern as what was found caught on the window, and in one corner a piece had been torn away.

He listened carefully to Joseph's words. Thaddeus helpfully gave him a deep, low growl when mentioned.
"Y-you're not the police!" The man cried, fear lancing his voice.

His hands were by his side, and suddenly Thaddeus caught him slip one into his pocket. Something glinted in the dark. In a flash Thaddeus had moved and snarling he caught the youth's arm in his jaws. The "weapon" clattered uselessly to the stone
.
It took a moment for Thaddeus to wrest back full control. For an instant his eyes had gone purely feral, the wolf, sensing danger, had surged into his mind. Realizing his near mistake Thaddeus let go as if burned. He hadn't bitten him hard, not even enough to break the fabric of the man's suit, but Thaddeus felt that it had been too close. He retreated to a safe distance, ears laid back and head low. He couldn't change back in front of the boy, so he could only stand there uncomfortably as a dog.

What had dropped to the ground was a letter opener, pointed but not sharp, and it was clear now the boy lacked the strength to do any harm with it anyways.
It was clear what the aught to do: They should bring the boy back and hand him over to the police, but as they had him now, it may bee good to ask a few questions.
After the bite from Thaddeus, the boy seemed meek as a lamb.

Dominaiscna ADarkAndStormyNight idalie BELIAL. Naberius

~*~*~

The owner of the salon seemed taken aback by the apology. He had prepared for a fight and when met with none found himself disarmed.
"W-well Monsieur Gladstone...if you are sure it was imperative to the investigation...if you can promise to put it back precisely the way it had been...it's not for my sake you understand, I only had the Muse on a temporary loan. It has been purchased by a gentlemen who will display it with other master works tomorrow evening at the Opera Garnier. If the machine breaks under my care...I do not know what I should do!"
MechanicalSnake

When Lady Byng entered the room she seemed to carry with her a presence that commanded attention. The police looked up from the body and even the coroner turned from his notebook. At the end of the list of instructions the police nodded, and one went to fetch Gabriel back in. The other saw to the young woman who was speaking to Giselle, and was indeed very gentle in speaking to her.
The coroner turned to Krishna and Bryony and began to answer their questions.

"Fourth." He began. "This is the fourth body this week, though only the third to have such a distinct wound. The others were found in different parts of the city, both young women: A mother was found beside the cradle of her screaming infant, and a laundress found by her basin, clothes in the middle of being washed. Both were killed after dark, though beyond the method of murder, the fact that they were both young women and the time of day, we can't find anything that links them."

The coroner paused as his attention to the Muse, sitting still as stone, in the corner of the room.
"That is the second time I've seen this monstrosity." The coroner did not seem to like automatons at all.
"The inventor was murdered not long back, though his throat had not been cut. Now I find this killer's M.O. and the machine in the same room...I wonder if the inventor's murder is linked to the rest?"

But what wasn't clear was why the three women were murdered, and in such a strange way. What was the connection?
"I know who you are." The coroner said with a nod. "We found him in his workshop on the other side of the city. It has been closed by the police now, but you may go tomorrow during the investigation and see what you can find."

MechanicalSnake laceanddoodles Cashi Epiphany