Realistic or Modern Victorian London

[GreyZone]

This time, Margaret almost downed the entire glass of wine in one gulp. She stared at the table. /I can still think, dammit./ She always saw these drunken men without a care in the world, and she wanted that no matter what the circumstances.


She finished off the rest of it and held it out to Victor for more. "Keep it coming, please. "

 

[Syrrus]

Victor did as she asked and after a while of pouring her more drink he simply placed the bottle next to her, so she could do it herself - in her own speed - while he enjoyed his meal. Sipping his wine and breaking the shell of the lobster.


Before anyone could even blink Jack had already finished his meal, leaning back in his seat and using a toothpick against his teeth, while looking at the different ladies around the restaurant.

 

[GreyZone]

By the end of the meal, Margaret had finished the whole bottle--and had asked the waiter for a second, downing half of that, too--and was noticeably looser, a knowing grin on her face as she sunk lower and lower in the booth. "This is fun," she told Victor, her words running together a little. "I shoulda gotten into this long time ago."


She nudged Jack with her elbow, sitting fully up and staring at him with laughing eyes. "Remember what I toldya when you came into the bar?" She giggled a little, motioning toward Victor with her head as if he wasn't right there. "About him."

 

[Syrrus]

"I cannot say I remember much no, wait, what bar?" Jack blinked in confusion, for he did not remember that day. At that point they had been two strangers meeting in a bar. It had been such a long time ago and Jack was hardly one to remember every face, he meet many everyday.


Victor decided to ignore the both of them, with great annoyance as he wiped his mouth with the napkin, not thinking to hard about anything in particular but still managing to look awfully thoughtful.

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret rolled her eyes at Jack's forgetfulness. "Come on, we talked for around an hour. You couldn't handle the whiskey I got you, so I traded it for peach schnapps. We talked about you being a chimney sweep and you met my devil brother and you convinced me that I needed to go hunt this pretentious fellow," she motioned toward Victor with her head again, "down because I was driving myself completely and utterly insane about him. So, in a roundabout way, I thank you for getting me a job!" She grinned good naturedly at him.


Her eyes then turned to Victor again. "What's on your mind, good Sir?"

 

[Syrrus]

Jack scratched the back of his head. "I'm terribly sorry ma'am, but I cannot say I remember it-- Oh wait, Ah yes! I remember now. Hah, small world eh? Though I think most people keeps gettin' drawn into troubles by Mister Edwards 'ere." Jack waved a hand dismissively as if it didn't actually matter. There was tons of people who ran into Victor and the never got out alive.


"Pretentious?" Victor asked with slight annoyance and a raised eyebrow. "Some would call the both of you class traitors."


Jack laughed. "Aye, I am, though I never understood class anyway."

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret placed a hand on her heart as if his words deeply wounded her. "It's simply preposterous to even propose that ridiculous notion, Mr. Edwards. I am of no such thing." But her drunken giggle afterward immediately spoiled her serious persona. "When are we allowed to board this ship? I must make my good master retie my stays since he so kindly undid them." She shot Victor a lewd wink before taking another drink of wine.


Her head was humming and she felt a warm rush through her entire body; she welcomed the feeling. It was refreshing and different and a welcome relief from her usual conflicting internal grief and remorse, the anger that she felt running through her veins as potently as her blood.

 

[Syrrus]

"I think ya'll be 'aving some trouble with this one, princeboy" said Jack, grinning while Victor attempted to ignore and brush the idea aside as he finished his meal and his wine besides. "We will board the boat when we need to." He pulled his watch out of his coat pocket and took a lengthy look through the glass, perhaps they better rise and leave. He snapped his fingers in the air and the waitor hurried to their side, bowing and waiting some sort of question, order or otherwise. "The bill, if you may be so kind." Victor said, slowly as he pulled up a check book and wrote down a few number upon it before handing it to the man.


"Lets go then, ma'am and sir." He waved a hand dismissively and walked up behind Margaret and twisted his fingers beneath the cloth of her dress, pulling on the strings tightly and without the use of his second hand, tied the corsets back up. "Allow me, ma'am.". he then said and stretched out his arm for her to grip.

 

[GreyZone]

"Aw, dammit," Margaret replied when he was done, polishing off the bottle of wine before accepting his arm. "You weren't supposed to do that. Come on, Mr. Edwards, take a hint."


She let out a heavy sigh as if he was the most disappointing creature she had ever laid eyes on. To Jack, she said, "This alcohol stuff really isn't so bad. I can see why men come as often as they do."


Margaret turned back to Victor, tilted her head curiously at him as if she had never seen him before, and then proceeded to pull his head toward hers and kiss him straight on the lips.

 

[Syrrus]

Both Jack and Victor acted as if they had been punched in the face. Victor who was rather used to the efficiency of different substances and it was clear that Margaret was not, either someone would becoming loving, depressed or aggravated; Victor had only experienced two. He placed two hands upon Margaret shoulders and moved her away from him, gently. "My dear ma'am, I am not quite drunk enough to join you in such emotion on public ground." He said, sternly as he locked his arm with hers. "And I did understand your sly hint, thank you very much, but I am not interested to join a drunken woman in such acts, we shall discuss it once you are sober however."


"And you're not, govna'?" said Jack with a grin as he held the door open for the couple and he did not avert his gaze from the daggers of death that Victor shot his way with his green eyes.

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret was unphased by the rejection from him and just continued walking as if nothing happened, a jovial bounce in her step. "This is wonderful, truly. I need to drink more often because I can't remember a time where I've ever felt better." She pulled her arm out from Victor's just to lock hands with him, swinging them back and forth as they walked. "This is so much better, isn't it? One time I did this with Charles in primary school and James saw and he told mother and I got in huge trouble but I could never really understand why because it was just a hand, right?"


She let out an exhilarated sigh and looked back at Jack. "Isn't this so much fun? I'm just having the time of my life. Mr. Edward's irritability even seems less annoying. Can you believe it?"

 

[Syrrus]

Two years and seven months later - America, just outside LA


If there was something that fascinated Victor - who enjoyed technology above all else – then it was the great trains of California, the coal trains which went from one side of the massive landscape, through deserts and wilderness to the other side, through villages, towns and to harbours of great trade. Los Angeles was known to be a sleepy existence, yet it would be known – thanks to science – that the population would grow drastically throughout the end of the 1880’s and 1900’s.


Victor, Jack and Margaret had been traveling through out of California all the way into Texas, after they had landed upon American soil. They had gone where Victor had wanted them to go – after Jack had bought two pistols and one shotgun to protect them from wildlife, bandits and what the locals called barbarians.


The Wild West had been one of Victor’s absolute favourite places, for its dangerous beauty and gloomy outlook. No one knew if they were going to survive to the next day and never had he seen something so depressing as a local family – three children, mother and father – die because of splinters to the hands and knuckles and buried in the graveyard close by.


He was sitting upon his black stallion, with Jack to the right of him, on his own horse and Margaret to the left – same situation. Victor’s eyes lay upon the coal train as it roared by on the railroad which they had followed from LA. He stared upon the steel shell, the black smoke and listened to the clanging of wheels to road.


Victor had not changed much through the years that they had spent in the new world. They had spent time with Indians, townsfolk and wanderers. They had seen death and birth, and Jack had even had to prove what a good shot he was by killing bandits from left and right, together with some wild animals who thirsted for some food and water in the Mojave Desert.


Jack looked little different from what he had done back in England, dirt and dry blood tainted his skin and once white shirt. He wore a scarf around his neck and a cowboy hat which he had picked up from the West, hanging by a thread around his neck and down his back. He carried his weapons on his person. Rifle hung over his shoulder and the pistols sat in his belt. Indifferent from Victor who still looked like a slightly rougher noble – with a black ponytail to keep his slicked back and longer hair in check, Jack was as working class as he ever could be, and he smiled greatly as he watched the rising sun in the horizon.


“Long day a ‘ead!” Jack shouted through the noise of the vanishing train. “How about some Breakfast, I can feel the ‘eat comin’ on.”


Victor turned his head from the train which became blurry in the distance. “Agreed, we have a long way to go to reach San Francisco. Would you mind cooking for us, ma’am?” He smirked towards Margaret and leaned backwards as if sitting in a high backed chair.

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret had discovered that she absolutely adored the Americas; no one seemed to care if she was from Ireland or whether or not her hair was done correctly or if her ankle showed for even the briefest of moments. She had quickly adapted, abandoning all of her stuffy and intolerable dresses from home to whatever the women here did. They had stopped in a small town for a week or so and a woman had taught her how to sew--of course, she had known how to patch up an underskirt, but never how to make a dress herself. That was always her mother's job and when she died, she had told her family they would just have to deal with old clothing because she refused to take it up.


And yet, she found herself sewing hem after hem every single night when they stopped, something she found to be a great stress reliever. Her thumbs were a bit worse for wear, but she had learned and she had learned quickly.


It was not a big deal that she was an immigrant and had stopped going to school at age nine, and had managed to escape learning to read and write until she was late in her teenage years. One of her favorite things to do was stop at taverns and alehouses and pretend to be clueless toward the world of alcohol just to show the men up. The first time she had seen how saloon girls dressed in America, she had almost been rendered unable to stand from sheer laughter at the whole situation. And yet, she loved the music and the fashion and the food and always being outdoors. It rained so much less and everything just didn't seem as dreary. She hadn't written her family in months.


Margaret looked over at Victor and quickly nodded, her long red hair trailing behind her as she had stopped putting it up as soon as they left Europe. Her skin had fared in the sun better than she thought it might, but still, she normally wore a bonnet if she could to keep her freckles from making a rather noticeable appearance. "Of course. Just tell me when you wish to stop."

 

[Syrrus]

Victor nodded towards a cliffside not far from the railroad and turned his horse. All the animal needed was a gently push of his two feet and it trotted forward, mane moving gently in the cooling breeze as the heat grew stronger and stronger. Jack followed suit, tanned, young and with a courageous heart. His eyes darted from spot to spot, he took in every detail, lizards, bugs and bobcats who ran by the sight of them.


Victor stopped his horse and jumped off, he instantly went for his two bags, hanging by the back of the great and proud animal. He pulled out a book, a violin and a big bottle of whiskey. Jack could not help but frown with a sly smirk on his lips, for it was not even eight o’clock and it seemed as if Victor already was going to start drinking, something he had not done since they had arrived in America.


Jack leaned towards Margaret. “I told you he wouldn’t last three years, pay u—“ Jack was interrupted however, by Victor who pressed the bottle against his chest, standing so tall that he could easily reach even if Jack was indeed still sitting upon the horse. “This is a good place, I believe, the cliffs will protect us from the sun for a little longer, be careful lighting the fire. Oh, and Jack, use the whiskey to clean out that wound again.”


Victor looked towards the horizon, holding his pocket watch up so he could take a better look at the time, before he sank down upon a rock and started to write down notes and play his violin. Jack grumbled and looked towards his shoulder, a place where a bullet had gone through the skin a while ago, it was a lot better now but needed to be cleaned and dressed accordingly.


Jack sank down from his horse and sat upon the dust ground as he removed his shirt after pulling down the braces of his trousers. He put his abs on show, which caused even Mister Edward to play a sore note out of distraction, and begun to clean his wound with a white cloth, whiskey and a painful huff.

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret stopped dismounting her horse as Jack spoke, a light laugh escaping from her lips as she saw the whiskey bottle in Victor's hands. "Ah, I might drink it myself. I haven't had any since that disaster of a night with the wine, but I sort of miss being around alcohol all of the time. On a second thought, no. I want to be nowhere near the stuff ever again."


When her roughened boots were on solid grounds, she quickly braided her hair back. It ended at her waist and was a brilliant dark red that she was rather proud of, if she wasn't lying. Before making the meal as she had been requested to, she bent down before Jack to help him with his wound. "You just relax. Let me handle it." She took the white cloth from him and folded it better, pressing the neat square to the mouth of the bottle before gently pressing it into the wound. "Tell me if you can't bear the pain, okay?" She patted his thigh in reassurance as she teased him.


"Mr. Edwards, what was that?" She asked, her eyes alight with mirth at the screech from his violin. "I wouldn't like to ever think that you were loosing your musical touch away from your lovely apartment."


"You need to let me mend that," she told Jack, tossing his shirt back at him. "You're starting to look like a barbarian yourself." After she was done reprimanding him for his clothing, she bent over to start nursing a flame for their quick breakfast. "What is everyone in the mood for?"

 

[Syrrus]

There was no need for Victor to drink, or abuse his habits when he was abroad, his great and wonderful mind was spinning as it was and out there he could do whatever he wished, without despair and judgement. He took his Violin and begun to play it like a banjo, instead of the proper way to use it, he tuned the beautiful piece of instrument and leaned back against the rock. “There is nothing wrong with my musical skill, nor my sense, thank you.” He rolled his eyes and looked upon the red morning sky as he continued to play as if it was a guitar and sing with his pleasant British accent.


“Won’t you take this cup from me, for fear has stolen all my sleep, if tomorrow means my death, I pray you will save their soul with it.”


Jack looked upon Margaret and gave her a wryly smirk. “Thank you kindly, ma’am. Maybe I’ll pay ya’ back later tonight? If we get a place to sleep that isn’t dirt. I’d be bad for you’r back, or mine… depending on your stance in life.”


“Let the songs I sing bring joy to you, let the words I say profess my love.”


“I’d like a 'ardy breakfast, egg, bacon and sausages, something English for once! I miss it, a little”. Jack continued as he watched his two companions, the poet who did nothing useful – except getting them out of grave trouble and paying for everything, and the beautiful girl who he assumed was still head over heels for the noble.


“In this hour of doubt, I see, but who I am is not just me, so give me strength to die myself, so love can live to tell the tale.”

 

[GreyZone]

A faint little smile grew on Margaret's lips as Victor began to sing with his banjo. Before Jack could put his shirt back on, she snatched it from his hands again. "I'm sewing this up while the breakfast cooks whether you like it or not." She moved back to their horses, carefully removing food that they would buy whenever they stopped somewhere. After rigging the system that would hold their pan above the flames, she cracked a couple of eggs into it to get started with.


"Ah, I might actually take you up on that," Margaret replied to Jack with a slight laugh, brushing her lips against his forehead before sitting down to began working on his shirt. She held the needle between her teeth before threading it, keeping an eye on the eggs while she repaired the numerous holes he had managed to create in his clothing.


"What do you do, set this thing out for target practice?" She laughed again for a moment before looking toward Victor. "Your song is beautiful, Sir. It reminds me of when you would tell me stories on that endless train ride. Has it really been that long ago? I was practically a child."

 

[Syrrus]

“Yes, ‘cause I do enjoy ta’ sit like this, day in and day out.” Answered Jack as he watched the lady steal his clothes. He stroke messy blond locks out of his face. He cut his hair himself, with the same knife he and Victor used to shave with, it was a dangerous thing to do, and it made him look rougher than normal, but the look suited him. Jack figured he would look like a right fool if he attempted to look more like Victor, fine, proud and noble.


“That is a dangerous and difficult task indeed.” He placed his violin upon his shoulder and begun to play like one was supposed to, for no real reason as he started to create his own piece of music, note after note. Like he had done for months now. “Besides, I believe Jack enjoys the danger, it brings him closer to the ladies, and to you besides.” Added Victor, slowly as he started to ponder over what to play next, staring upon the scribbles upon his lap, raising his gaze upon the horizon for a mare moment and then staring back down.


"Aye, I'd marry ya' in a heartbeat, Miss!" said Jack, smiling from ear to ear as he leaned his head back over the rocks and pulled his hat down over his face.

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret smirked and looked up at him. "Oh, I know how bashful you get when it comes to being shirtless, good Sir. I truly am sorry to humiliate you so." She stood up for a moment, shirt still in hand, to go check on their breakfast. "I'm glad that you requested this because I was getting concerned about that meat going bad," she called over her shoulder as she scooped the eggs onto three separate plates and began to slice up the sausage."


"I'm a little bit afraid to see how much of your piano teachings I actually remember," she replied to Victor absentmindedly as she took a knife to the loaf of bread they had recently bought. "It wouldn't matter anyway, seeing how the music here is so different from anything we would listen to in England. Do you miss it at all?"


Her eyebrows skyrocketed at Jack's comment and she glanced over at him. "I might just have to take you up on that as well. Our dearest noble over here told me that he never wants to have children and my mother would roll over in her grave if I never had any."

 

[Syrrus]

“I miss the piano as much as the next man, however; you must remember that I play in every saloon, inn and bar we come across that happens to have a piano? You can join me, next time.” He had never written so much music, so many poems and so many short novels in his lifetime and he loved it something horribly, he felt as he was on the edge of death, about to fall into a blissful and beautiful ocean of the other side, happily so too. "I miss England, I suppose. Though I love being away, it brings me great joy and inspiration, hence the lack of alcohol."


“Ah yes, you need to remind me to refill our supplies once we head into San Francisco. We need fruit, lemons to be precise. Perhaps it’s the lack of vitamins that causes little King of Pumpkins over here to heal so slowly.” Victor stroke his chin in thought, shrugged and continued to play his violin.


“Did ‘e now? Not surprising.” Jack grinned from ear to ear. “I would perhaps want two or three children running around, at least one, you know? A sweet little family to care for, maybe. Annabelle, Emeric and Lilith, is what I’ll name them, too.”


“It seems as if you have decided everything to a T, good sir.” Grinned Victor, who seemed less than unimpressed.

 

[GreyZone]

"Oh, you don't want me to join you," Margaret reminded him as she placed a plate of food on his lap. "I know a C-scale and that is the extent of my great musical knowledge." She picked up the other two plates and wandered over to sit beside Jack while he ate and she finished sewing up his shirt. "But I do always love to hear you play. I still believe that the piano is my favorite."


Margaret smiled faintly as Jack talked of the children that he wanted. She had softened up toward the little beasts as she had been around more when they stopped in town--not all of them were like her demonic youngest brother, that was for certain. "Those names sound lovely. I would like to have a large family, but then again, I was in a household with seven children and we never had enough of anything to go around. It was difficult. It's strange how I've almost completely moved on from it in the short time that we've been here."


Her eyes drifted over to look at the rather unimpressed Mr. Edwards. "Are you planning on always being single, Mr. Edwards? I fear I must have to snatch my heart back sooner rather than later, if that is so," she teased him as she planted careful stitching in Jack's shirt.

 

[Syrrus]

“Life is strange ma’am, but I would not get myself a family with wife and little ones if I could not afford it.” Jack explained as he placed his hat back on his head and sat up straight to eat his breakfast. Victor placed his violin back in the case and did the same, eating slowly with his eyes upon his scribbles. He wrote poem after poem with a light smile upon his lips. Jack watched the noble with a strange look upon his face, before glancing at Margaret.


“I would gladly keep your heart my darling.” Answered Victor, without looking at his two companions. “But if it is a life as a wife with children you want then I can give you none of it. I prefer a lover's life.”


“Ya fancy yourself a Casanova, don’t ya, royal?” grinned Jack as he finished eating. “Thank you kindly for the lovely dish, ma’am.” He nodded towards Margaret and pulled his harmonica out of his pocket to play a little tune. “I do not fancy myself as anything, Jack – old friend.”

 

[GreyZone]

"It was fine in Ireland, and then everyone was saying how much better in England it was!" She shook her head. "My father is a good man and I respect him, but he is not an intelligent man. We hopped on the first boat that was offered and arrived covered in lice for the grand opening of an alehouse we are still paying off debts for. At least, they are now. Does it make me a horrible person that I'm not helping them financially?"


A blush rose to Margaret's fair cheeks at that. "Well, for lovers, we have an awful lack of any sort of intimacy, Mr. Edwards."


She quickly stood and moved back to the horse, trying to move away from them for a moment to recollect her thoughts. She didn't know where she stood with Victor, and she was tired of what they were doing. It had been years and she was nowhere better off than when they had met years ago.

 

[Syrrus]

Victor said nothing for a long while; he was eating and looking through his notes, spending the time flicking through research and sketches of the places they had visited. He would have gotten himself a camera, if it wasn’t so frustratingly annoying to use – and heavy. “I pay you, Margaret my dear – I do not wish you to get the wrong idea, and besides, I never sleep with the same woman or man twice, well… not often anyway. You need someone who can be there for you, I change with the wind, I’d break your heart.”


Jack almost coughed on his own spit when he heard Victor mentioning ‘men’ and couldn’t help but chuckle, believing it was all a joke. He placed his humble tone and leaned back.


“You are too important to me Margaret.” Explained Victor, simply after he whipped his face on a tissue and leaned back, peering at the two of them.

 

[GreyZone]

Margaret glared over at Jack when he laughed; so he had not heard tales of Victor's lovers like she had. She couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a horrible one. "I'm not asking you for anything and I'm not that important to you," she replied simply, turning to look at him next to her horse. "All I am saying is that my feelings for you are worthless and it would be better if I end them now because I am not the child that I was and I can no longer remain blinded by misplaced hope. That is all I am saying."


She walked back over with a book she had purchased in her hand, for she could read well enough if she really put her mind to it. "I have told you before that I do not pretend to be frightened of intercourse and I am not about to make it look as if I am indulging in a purely masculine desire," she replied after a beat as she flipped through the novel to find her page. "But you have never even made one proposition and that one time I kissed you ended terribly. So I might as well just get married now, because as I said earlier, I don't have any more room for foolishness."