Penna Pemberton – ‘Pemberton’s Clock making’

Penna jumped slightly, reeling back at the reply. Her friendly and pleasant demeanour dropped the moment he snapped at her. Her eyes narrowed considerably, her arms folded. This man had been abrupt with her on entering, and she had decided to let that pass. Perhaps he was new in town, a foreigner who wasn’t aware of the proper etiquette expected when entering a small shop such as this one. However now, he was just being downright rude. Even to another customer!

She cleared her throat. Time to show this ‘gentleman’ that she wasn’t going to stand such poor social skills.

“With all due respect, good Doctor,” she said coolly, with emphasis. “I am a businesswoman, not a common maid. What I am running here, is called ‘a business’. In order for a business to work for both parties, there needs to be a trade, and co-operation. I will happily provide my services to you, and get you watched fixed. However a business works both ways. In return, I require money, and information which is necessary before I mend said watch. There is a procedure we need to through before I can help you, in which a series of questions need to be asked. I can not mend you watch, Doctor, if I don’t have the right information on it. I’m sure being of a medical profession, you of all people can understand that. I highly doubt you would slice open a patient without first knowing what is wrong with them, am I correct? Likewise, I need to get to the bottom of what is wrong with this watch before I can fix it.”

All this time, Penna kept calm and patient. But it was obvious from her tone that she was finding hard to remain professional, dealing with such a rude and unreasonable customer. She was used to dealing with difficult customers, but she was only an apprentice. And rude and stupid customers was something that really got under her skin. In fact it amazed her how stupid this man was, considering he was a Doctor. Did he really expect her to just wave a magic wand and fix his watch for him, no questions asked? Magic was indeed abundant, but even that was a ridiculous thing to expect of her.

“Now, if you have a problem with providing me the information I require to mend your watch, then I’m terribly sorry, Doctor, but I can’t help you,” Penna finished with a cool gaze.

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Hiryu: Doc's bag is a portal. She's actually from another dimension and when she jumped into it, she ended up at a desk with a browser open on this site. That's how she found it.
We have a Doctor Who thread now. Doctor Who threads are cool.

"Please, spare me your fussing," Billiam waved his hand as his face expressed a droll annoyance. "It's your job to figure out what's wrong with it; you should enjoy doing so. I might even relinquish it to you as a gift, should you figure it out." He rubbed his chin as he spoke these words, pondering this new idea. "The truth of the matter is, I've not paid enough attention to it. Perhaps I had found it in the garbage?"

Kevin was thinking about what to exactly ask the girl when he heard “OFFICER” being yelled by some civilian down the street and groaned. On my day off too. He thought grumpily as he listened to the man mention a body. He looked around the crowd of people for a fellow officer to push this off too, he knew he’d just passed Adam and Gary having a smoke behind him, but they’d wisely scarpered too. It was unfortunate that Kevin was one of the more well known and recognisable policeman, in a town like Merchudon there was always going to be crime and that meant there always needed to be a policeman at hand. It didn’t matter that it was his time off, he couldn’t say that in front of this crowd and he couldn’t let himself walk off now without anyone to take responsibility.

He sighed again, waved the smoke around him away, flicked his just lit cigarette on the ground and stamped on it, wincing at wasting a perfectly good smoke. Keep the shilling Kid, you look like you need filling up. He muttered to Leslie as he strode gently through the crowd as they cleared a path for him towards Gerald. As he walked past Gerald, Kevin gave him a quick signal with his hand to follow as he walked around the corner to see a small crowd gathering around the body. GET AWAY FROM THERE YOU ‘ORRIBLE LITTLE LOT, I DON’T WANT NO BUNCH OF CIVILLIANS STICKING THEIR FILTHY FINGERS IN MY CRIME SCENE. He yelled angrily in his classic "angry copper" voice, guaranteed to make a crowd feel like a little kid whoes just been found with their hands in the biscuit tin.

As the group quickly dispersed to a respectable distance, about three feet away, Kevin crouched down and grunted at the mangled corpse. Did anyone see anything, anyone running, anything odd? He said, turning his head back, to the crowd half-heartedly, they hardly ever did in these cases. Nobody paid any attention to little details in the middle of a crowded street like this, mainly because no-one thought they’d need too, it was normally amazingly difficult to get answers when someone had been killed in a public place like this. Probably because people normally weren’t stupid enough to do it, and people weren’t smart enough to notice what was going on. What about you? He asked Gerald hopefully. You were here when the body was found, weren’t you?

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“One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered.”

"Yes, I was. I saw some movement on the rooftop up there out of the corner of my eye," Gerard pointed at the roof directly above the body, "and when I looked over I saw a vaguely humanoid bundle falling. When I arrived here, she was in the current state she is in. Obviously dead, most likely from blood loss. I'm no doctor or police officer, but I've seen my share of death on the open roads. It really is a shame, she was a nice girl..." He brought his hand up to his hair, brushing it out of his eyes showing a hint of a tear. He wasn't the most emotional man, but the death of a former partner of his wasn't something that happened everyday. "I wish I could be of more help officer, but I didn't see much at all. Her name though... If I recall correctly, her name was Jenny. Yes, Jennifer... S something. Sorry I can't be of more help."

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-Adan, dude wat-

So he's a doctor...Is that what doctors actually wear? Magic flutes? I don't even know how to play a normal one...And what the hell is a moat's-art? Adan pondered these deep, pressing questions as the young woman blew her top. He didn't even bother standing up, since he had learned long ago that, unless you have some sort of stake in it, you shouldn't get involved in fights that aren't yours, on either side. So, while the "dapper" gentleman dismissed the young lady's rant, he cracked open the back, after finally cleaning most of the gutter crap off. Unfortunately, Adan discovered that the gunk was not just skin deep. The whole inside of the watch was clogged up. Apparently still having some time to kill, he grew out a thin hooked claw, and began picking at it all. However, his ears perked up when he heard the doctor say something about finding a watch in the garbage. He looked up with a concerned face, and couldn't help himself from asking, "Wait, is there something wrong with finding it in the garbage? Can...can you not fix it then?" After all, if this was the case, he had wasted valuable scouting time playing with what amounted to a shiny brick.

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YOU MUST ALWAYS UNDERSTAND EVERYTHING I SAY

IF YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND YOU MUST ASK OTHERS FOR CLARIFICATION

EVERYTHING I SAY IS IMPORTANT

Marcey - Still on the Street - Status: Sad - maybe...

Marcey stood still in confusion. He was selling false wares to children. To us! Marr said in her mind. I'm sure he didn't mean it in a harmful way.Marcey thought, trying to calm her other half down. Of course he did! He was selling them as good safe toys and did you see them? That porcelain doll could have hurt a little girl with it's broken edges. Marr was right, a child could have seriously hurt herself. We have no choice then do we? Marcey asked sadly. We have to kill him. While Marr said it joyfully, Marcey was resigned.
She snapped back to the real world, if indeed it was real and not a figment of their psychotic brain. Marcey picked up the bunnies. Maybe I can fix them, she said, cradling them in her arms. She turned to Lizzie, So, sweetheart. Can you guide me where I need to go? SHe prattled off the address and handed the girl a couple shillings, One for me and one for the cop you missed out on. She smiled, the ratty bunnies held close to her chest, You never did take a cookie. Do you want one?

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You... you really don't get it... do you? I... I love him... I'd die with him. Or for him. That's what you do... how you feel when you love someone. - Impulse

~~Enine Estel/busy being generous~~





Enine was dismayed at the small girl's disappointment with the vendor. People did what they had to do to get by. It was a fact of life, still it was sad that some were hurt.


he then frowned. He had detected a very small very vague feeling about her, if only for a split second. Murder. It left a bad taste in Enine's mental mouth, but was gone just as quickly as it came. He decided to disregard it but keep it noted. He overheard her talking about fixing the rabbits. Enine knew just the solution for something like that. . .but. . .

"Well I'm on a roll today, I might as well. . ." he thought to himself as he lightly tapped the girl's shoulder from behind. As she turned around Enine ungloved one of his hands and offered it out to her.


"I know an incantation to repair those rabbits if you'd like?" he said down to her with a friendly smile, his hand extended out. Behind Enine stood 00 who was watching Marcey as one would watch paint dry. Of course the one thing that separated magicians and normal adults. Was that a Magicians sense of imagination never left them, for it seemed in this way Magicians always had some far-reaching connection to children even more so then regular adults. Children had imagination and so did Magicians.

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*WHAT I THOUGHT I'D DO WAS PRETEND I WAS ONE OF THOSE DEAF-MUTES*

Marcey - When Are We Getting Off the Street? - Status: Hopeful -

Really? she looked hopeful, Would you? They remind me of someone. I miss him quite dearly. Her expressive eyes were shining as she took in his fine clothes and his mannerisms. She bowed, It would make this so much easier my good sir. She looked at him boldly, And if you're ever in the vicinity of the Will'o'Wisp bar, just ask for Marcey and you've got yourself a free meal. That was the onlything she could give him for compensation.

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You... you really don't get it... do you? I... I love him... I'd die with him. Or for him. That's what you do... how you feel when you love someone. - Impulse

~Abraham Wylie~

----Location: Near a Bridge over a canal, somewhere in Merchurdon----

A man stood near an edge of land, that was suspended over the waters of one of Merchurdon's many canals. Near him was a cart full of old, outdated, and terribly mistreated toys, a cart with a long iron chain attached to it. In his hands the man held the chain, as if he had used it to pull the cart there. On the ground, near one of the cart's wheels, laid a small toy theatre, which was the most abused of all. The chain was switched between hands, as the man mused, his eyes fixed upon the waters. He was going to lose a cart this way, that much he knew, but it was a risk he was willing to make. If anyone went to the Scrapyard and saw the toys there, somebody would be suspicious. He shook his head. Things weren't supposed to happen to this way, now he would have to take extra steps to cover his tracks. The man walked around behind the cart, pushing it towards the waters edge. After a few moments of after thought, he lifted one foot against the cart's wood, and kicked it into the canal. The cart landed in the water with a splash.

Turning away, he walked up to the theatre he never got to sale, and looked it over. It was old, yes. Broken, beaten, worthless. But even still...something about it appealed to him. The man did not understand why, his heart told him to keep it. Yet how he wished he could get rid of it. He did not need it, it wasn't important. Something inside kept him from getting rid of this piece of evidence as he held it over his head so that he could throw it into the canal along with the cart. He could not do it. And he hated it. The man tried again to throw it over, and again he could not bring himself to make the act. He had no choice but to give up, and bring the theatre home with him. The toy theatre was like a silver coin. It had hypnotized him.


=======


A man stood on top of a bridge over a canal, a chain in hand. His back was to the waters below, dangerously close to falling off the bridge. The man's feet rocked backward and forward, his body also. If one were to witness the man, they would be able to guess at what he was doing. The old man was about to jump, and end his life in the city's waters. And he did.

But if one were to search for the body, they would find none, because the body did not exist.

They would have only found the man's clothes.


=======

Abraham finished changing into the rags of a homeless man, a white linen shirt that was dirty and filled with holes, brown knickers full of patches, mix-matching shoes with no socks, a brown tattered vest. His face was the face of a homeless man that he knew lived in the area outside of his scrapyard, one that sat around begging for change all day and liked to sneak into the local pubs hoping to get drunk. That homeless man was one of his default faces, because nobody took the homeless man seriously, so no one would cause trouble with him. He had left the toy theatre and the bicycle back at the edge of the creek, knowing that people will just think the homless man stole the bike and theatre and rode them off back home. He had specifically turned off his StopRecorder when he took off from the scene at the marketplace in case someone would ever get a hold of it. Such precautionaries were essential to the life of a con-man. Give any reason for a cop to find out your true identity, and you were done for. Abe took full advantage of his powers in order to prevent that from happening.

The ghoul still couldn't shake off the hurt look that girl had given him. Usually he could justify conning people out of their money, but the look on that girl's face had crushed him. What was it with women and messing with a man's emotions? He hated it, he hated how he had to run from her. That really shouldn't have happened.

Reaching the bike and toy theatre, Abraham pulled out a silver watch and flipped it open. He winded it up, causing an assortment of moving pictures appear over the watch's face, which glowed with a blue light. The pictures being shown were a recording of the events at the marketplace. He watched as the young girl came up to him, asking for the price of the two bunnies. He need some hint of what happened to cause that slight misfortune. And something happened to catch catch his eye. A figure, in the background on a roof. For a moment it stood there before disappearing, probably to go off someplace else. Abe rewinded the StopRecorder so he could view it again. Indeed there was a man on the roof. Could he be...the murderer? The one that idiot warned the cop about? Abe wouldn't have known, but a man on the roof was a peculiar thing unless he was a chimney sweep, and the ghoul saw no sweeper in the man's hand. The ghoul in the form of a homeless man pocketed the watch and placed the toy theatre on top of the back of his bike. After surveying the area one last time, Abe mounted the bike, and rode off onto the streets...

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Musicmac: "Sam4Books: Always ready to cheer things up with awesome art. Terms and Conditions apply."

Vincent

Vincent sighed as he walked down the street. He had his food, but he would wait to eat it until he was back home. He didn't like removing his mask in public. It made him feel uncomfortable, and he was sure other felt the same way. He was a freak, plain and simple. Vincent dug into his pocket and brought out his golden watch, and closed his eyes in frustration. It stopped. Just what he needed. A broken watch. Opening his eyes, he looked up, and found himself in front of a building with a sign in front. “Pemberton’s Clock making eh? Isn’t that convenient.” Vincent put his watch back in in his pocket, and walked into the store. He could see that there was a man, he presumed a customer, and a girl behind the counter. Standing behind the man, Vincent quietly waited his turn. He needed the watch fixed. He had an appointment soon, and he needed the watch to make sure he was on time.

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You think your evil? You want to see real evil? Then allow me to educate you...

~~Enine Estel/What on Earth~~





"No need for generosity my dear, making a young lady happy is the best reward any man can have." he said with a warm smile. He then placed his ungloved hand over hers on the rabbits.

"Now this will only work if you have your eyes closed." Enine said to her. He then kindly waited for her to do as he said before continuing. Normally if Marcey had been younger Enine would have just had her watch, but the older one got, the older Enine found it harder to exert his own unique form of magic in this world.

"Now what I'd like you to do is think of how these ratty old rabbits would have looked when they were brand new. And when you get a good picture of them I want you to focus on their image. You think you can do that?" Enine asked her. He then let out a sigh and waited a moment more for her to get herself ready.

"Come. . . .now, let us remember. . .what form did you have?" He said, and it seemed like he was talking directly to the rabbits and to Marcey both at the same time.

"What form did you have. . .yes. . .yes. . ." he said concentrating. Slowly Marcey would have felt a warm sensation in her fingers. This sensation would have grown warmer until it felt like she had her hand in a hot bucket of water, not hot enough to burn, but hot enough for one to know it was hot. The warmth seemed to be emanating from both Enine's hand and the rabbits. There was a few more moments of silence as Enine worked with the girl's imagination.

"Hmm. . . oh, oh dear. . ." Enine said to her as he let go of her hand. In her hands would have been one rabbit where two would have been. But now there was one and a half of a rabbit. A two headed rabbit doll. Added to this was the other rabbit head which was quite ugly and shrived up. It had been sewed onto the body like it didn't belong. Sticking out at and odd angle to the otherwise normal looking rabbit, it's ears, if you could call them that, were but blacked burnt strings. it looked forever to the world, like a large cancerous growth, it's expression. . .was that of anger which made the things look all the more out of place on the doll. Enine was quite taken aback by the sight of it. Of course he had done nothing to instigate this, it had all been this girl's doing. It was too late to hide it however, she no doubt would have looked by now. Of course what Enine couldn't explain was how this had failed in such a manner. It worked well with little girl's for little girl's were known to be pure of mind. Unless this girl had somehow been tainted in someway, which very well might have been possible considering her age. Now that Enine thought about, he should have never done this with her, she was much too old. Puberty had damaged the process, and whatever her past had been, this gave the indication that her mind had been damaged in some way or form. This rabbit gave a hint as to how she had been damaged in the same way an ink-stain does to a psychologist. A parasite of some sort was with this girl, of what Enine could not see. But with this he could certainly tell. He gave no indication of his findings, instead acting as bewildered as she would no doubt be. Best not to prejudge the waters before stepping into them. . .

"Why on Earth would. . ." He said , stopping himslef before he questioned her "imagination" he was still, however, visibly dismayed at the results of their work. Again, Enine did this because she wasn't a little girl. She looked to be in her teens, Enine had no idea she'd think of the rabbit like that. . .

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*WHAT I THOUGHT I'D DO WAS PRETEND I WAS ONE OF THOSE DEAF-MUTES*

Marcey - Still here - Status: Confused - Maybe This, Maybe That, Maybe Tit, Maybe Tat

It was a very good try, sir. Marcey said, Perhaps I wasn't imagining them hard enough. She dragged the thin fingers of her real hand across the disigured Rabbit.
He's trying to make us talk! Marr said. Kill him!
No! He was only trying to help. You can't have this one. Marcey stood up to her other half for the first time.
Fine, the darker half sulked. Only 'cause you grew some balls.
She snapped out of her conflict. Maybe there's something wrong with me, she murmured, Maybe it was you, she thought poisonously.
She looked thoughtful, I bought them because they remind me of my little brother, separated when we were little... Maybe it means we'll meet again! She looked hopeful

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You... you really don't get it... do you? I... I love him... I'd die with him. Or for him. That's what you do... how you feel when you love someone. - Impulse

~~Enine Estel/Hurry up, Tour-Guide~~




"Sir, I'm detecting a hostile presence within this girl's mi-"

"I know 00, I can sense it as well. That rabbit only confirms it. It's not our place to meddle with her mind, at least not with the current circumstances. Should the situation develop later and if we possibly meet again I can perform an exorcism for this "demon" until then she'll have to cope. Fate shall decide whether or not the beast is done away with." Enine answered 00 telepathically. Being a familiar to Enine 00 and him could both carry out such conversations via the mind, it was quite useful, in fact Enine was connected to all four siestas at all times, although the other two were in the "in-between" summon space where Enine's weapon's waited for him to summon them. They could still see and hear what Enine heard, only because Enine allowed them that much.


As for the current situation. Enine smiled nervously and nodded with the girl. Other then the morbidly shaped second head of the rabbit such a statement would be perfectly fine and cute. But a rose by any other name, was still a rose (or in this case an ugly rabbit head was still an ugly rabbit head) And Enine would never particularly want to meet the head of whatever had spawned that thing.

"Y-Yes, I'm sure he'll be quite happy when he sees you!" He said with a nervous smile. Something was awfully wrong with this girl. Enine could not put his finger on it, but she made the hair stand on end on his arms. A magician of Enine's caliber was more in touch with people then the people sometimes where with themselves. That and Enine was gifted in the knowledge of demons. It seemed some evil spirit had this girl in its grasp. But no need to think of it any further.

"If this damned tour-guide can get us going now this can all be forgotten." Enine thought impatiently, looking in the young tourists direction with an expectant look.

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*WHAT I THOUGHT I'D DO WAS PRETEND I WAS ONE OF THOSE DEAF-MUTES*

{William Livingstone}

_Circus_


After drinking his morning coffee, William departed from the circus, for his walk. He gave his crew instructions and tapped on his rock, well the clowns and other circus folk call it "Williams Rock". Anytime, before he goes for a walk, he always taps on a one particular big rock. It would be a couple of hours before he would return so this is why he gives them instructions before hand. William was dressed with his dark amber over coat and pants, leather shoes and an umbrella with a dark brown handle and silver tip.

_The Empty Church [and Graveyard]_More Questions

This time, William paid a visit to the so called "Empty Church" at the city centre today. He stood ten feet from the silent and supposedly unused church. William was rubbing the ends of his mustache as he examined the place. " Hmmm, James, I often ask this question, but what did you get yourself into?" William said as he sighed and stopped twirling his stache. " Why did you return to Merchurdon? Do you think, we would meet again, or were you always here after you left?" He questioned to himself as he approached the mysterious building or rather the unmysterious building.

William chosen this place, not because it was mysterious, but because it was odd. From what his minions have gathered, those with superstitions and without , won't simply go near it, nor even wreck it. There is plenty of other places of worship, yet this place simply got his eye because no one mentioned why they won't use it. " No strange events, yet from my opinion, I think you, are purposefully keeping others away by some kind of force." William pointed out. The way he was talking, it sounded like he was talking to the cold church.

William gripped the doorknob of the front door of the church. Before turning the knob and walking right in, William commented " You know, if your walls, could talk, they probably have a million things to say, wouldn't you agree?" . He then, opened the door and stepped right in. " Hopefully, I find an answer." He said as he chuckled .

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"Fate smiles on the strange. So its a good thing, I'm the strangest of all." - William Livingstone, Cirque de la Nuit

Minara Kali Kaur

Damour Estate--Merchurdon/Financial (Upper) District

~"Do you accept my offer?"~

~"Tell me what to do."~

She awoke with a jolt, jerked from unconsciousness as she sat up in silk bedsheets, breathing erratic. Another nightmare wracked through her body. She closed her eyes, running a clawed hand through her glorious mane and steadied her heartbeat. She could never remember them, always coming up blank when she attempted to recall what exactly had frightened her. Always waking in a sweat of unsettling emotions.

Pinching the bridge of her nose she clicked her teeth together, throwing he covers off her voluptuous, nearly naked body and stood. Rubbing and yawning the last remnants of sleep away she moved towards a wide bureau with a large vanity mirror on top. Smoldering mismatched eyes of mahogany and light cobalt stared back at her and she touched the mirror tentatively with her fingertips. She sighed in exhaustion, grabbing a brush from the organized placement of fairly small care products.

Demons had natural beauty so what any other typical woman used for going out, Minara never needed. Make up wasn't a necessity with her; there was nothing she required to cover up. She combed meticulously through long strands of silver and fiery red-orange hair. A couple of knots were easily weeded out and then she undressed. Slinking limbs through her undergarments she walked clear across the room and opened her closet door.

She took out her armored yukata, wrapping the ties securely and pulling on her black shorts. She didn't need to glance outside, she knew there would be no light, even so high up in the district. She glanced at a distant clock on her wall, far to for her employer to be awake. She smirked on her good fortune. She moved across the room again, towards the balcony window and opened one.

Better to not disturb the master this way....and it's much more entertaining to watch the human's expressions... She locked the french door, waving down her fellow security personal and jumped from the balcony onto the far off street below. She landed gracefully, restraining her smirk at the gasps and exclamations of the upper class humans around her.

Straightening her posture she made her way towards the market. She had business there. Someone to meet, or so the courier had told her. It was really uncertain what the person wanted but they had been distinct on appearances. The note he delivered read: 'Talk to the barefoot tour guide; she'll only be ye high. But if you run into a bunny; you better buy some honey.'

Riddles...how utterly typical...

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Perhaps you are asking the wrong questions?

Penna Pemberton – ‘Pemberton’s Clock making’

Penna raised her eyebrow’s slightly at what the strange doctor had said. She didn’t like people telling her what she should and should not be doing, and the family business was something she took very seriously.

“Now now, Penna, manners. Bossy behaviour will only get you so far. Sometimes, in order to keep customers, you need to just grin and bear it. Try and be more flexible. It’s a small business we’ve got here. Sometimes you have to be lenient.” An old memory of something Geoffrey had told her floated to the surface. She inwardly smiled at the memory. She was still learning, after all.

“Well, good gentlemen,” she said calmly, addressing both Billiam and Adan. “I can take a look at your watches if you like. However if you found it in the garbage, there is the possibility that it will need a lot of parts replacing. In which case to spare your pockets, I would advise buying a new watch instead. But we can have a look at it for you, if it really means that much to you. It will take some time, particularly since we won’t know anything about it prior to examination. It is likely you will need to leave the watch with us over night, but if you are willing to pay the extra money to cover the cost of time and expenses, I will see what I can do for you.” She smiled. Honesty was always the best policy.

“And if you decide not to have the watch you found fixed, you are welcome to browse our own selection. Our watches are all of the finest quality, hand-crafted and very reliable. And we have a policy here that Pemberton watch repairs come with a discount, should one of our watches ever be broken,” Penna added warmly. “Added to that is a customer loyalty discount, upon your third Pemberton purchase or repair within six months.”

Penna leaned over the counter with her elbows, her head propped up on her hands. “So Gentlemen, if you would be kind enough to leave your details (if you haven’t already), we will take away the watches, examine them and see about fixing them for you. Or, if not, can I interest you gentleman in purchasing one of our own hand-crafted watches?” She looked at them both expectantly with a smile. She could see another customer (other than the two before her) had already entered the shop, but he would have to wait his turn.

~*~

Angelo Pemberton – ‘Pemberton’s Clock making’

Meanwhile, whilst Penna had ‘fun’ addressing customers, Angelo had been round the back, busying himself in the workshop. Penna’s voice was just muffled background noise, as he busily examined something.

It was a clockwork mouse, something one of their regular customers was forever giving them to fix. The old thing was rusty, but far from simplistic. Once it was wound up, the mouse was supposed to scurry about on a surface on the wheels concealed underneath it, but it could also sit up, jump, spin, turn its head and wiggle its ears. Instead of a nose, it had a small tiny gem, no bigger than a small bead. The gem was enchanted, allowing the mouse ‘sniff’ out trouble. It was, in a funny sort of way, a ‘trouble detector’. And in a city like Merchurdon, there was plenty of that. The idea behind it was that if someone meant you harm, for instance, or tried to steal your purse, the clockwork mouse would squeak and alert you to it. And if the was trouble nearby, once set on the ground it would scurry off and ‘find’ the trouble for you, so you could either go to it or avoid it.

But of course, being such a magnet towards trouble, the thing was constantly getting broken. Someone stepping on it, someone deliberately trying to destroy it to shut it up, or the little device decided to run into a burning building and almost had it’s insides melted…Angelo was surprised if there was any part of the original mouse left, with the exception of the gemmed nose.

Angelo frowned. “So what’s wrong with you this time?” he murmured to himself, turning it over in his hands and scrutinising it. The first thing he noticed was that the squeaker was apparently jammed. The mouse was emitting the high pitched squeak it normally issued when danger was afoot…usually after a few pips it stopped squeaking, but this time it was squeaking constantly. In fact the mouse had driven its owner up the wall, having not been able to shut it up, no matter what was done to it.

“Hmm…strange,” he said, puzzling over it. The young man started to disassemble the clockwork mouse, trying to find the root of the problem.

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Hiryu: Doc's bag is a portal. She's actually from another dimension and when she jumped into it, she ended up at a desk with a browser open on this site. That's how she found it.
We have a Doctor Who thread now. Doctor Who threads are cool.

Kevin looked up at the rooftop and grunted. The murderer will be long gone now, no sense in waiting around here, no point in me staying here either. He stood back up and looked around the street. Still no one else around, better send up a yellow. he muttered as he raised his right hand and pointed it towards the sky. Flame suddenly burst around his hand, starting at his wrist and rising to just above his fingers. It slowly began to turn yellow and sparks began to flicker off like a firework, a crackling sound began to grow as it got brighter and bright until with a whoosh, it flew off his hand and shot off high into the air, leaving a faint yellow trail behind it. After about 100 feet it exploded in a vibrant yellow flash and spred horizontallly outwards before fading slowly away in the air. Kevin lowered his hand again and the small yellow fires on his fingers snapped out of existence, leaving his white glove unscathed.

Alright, a couple of lab geeks should be here soon to inspect the body, if they know what's good for them, and that's all I can do now, I'm afraid. he turned to Gerald and gave him a quick inspection. Er...I think you've done enough, it would have been helpful for a last name but. he shrugged and patted him on the shoulder. Just go about the rest of your day, we'll get this guy, probably. I don’t like murderers like this, most of them have the decency to not do it in public and at least be neat about it. This.. he swept a hand to indicate the ravaged corpse and looked at it in disgust. I’d better not be getting the paperwork for this as well.

He turned away from Gerald and strode off back to Elizabeth, his jacket sweeping around behind him. He reached her a minute later and lounged against a wall in her view. He shuffled slightly and seemed to draw into himself, getting smaller as the shade seemed to wrap around him until he was just part of the background. ahhh, that’s better. he thought as he watched the crowd go by and the solitude and calmness washed over him.

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“One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered.”

Elizabeth (“Lizzie”) Taylor – Let the tour begin

Lizzie couldn’t believe how much luck she was having. Today was a good day for her, she could feel it. Storing away all the coins she had collected into a small purse tied to her middle, she turned to Tempest. “Um…usually it only costs a penny per head,” she admitted, fiddling with the hem of her dress. Then she looked up hopefully. “But I’m welcome to tips,” she added, nodding eagerly.

The small tour guide then became distracted, as a young couple came up to her, asking her if she knew which shop they could find xxx, and where they could find the shop that sold it. Lizzie stood talking with them for a moment, before they gave her a few coins for her trouble and went on their way. She turned back in the direction of Marcey, nodding. “Thank you Miss,” she said her eyes shining as she accepted the coins, “and yes please,” she nodded further, eyeing the basket of cookies hungrily. She could feel her small stomach rumbling. “I have a tour to run, but we can always stop by that address on the way. No problem, Miss.”

Elizabeth would have started the tour then, but Enine and Marcey’s conversation caught her attention. She peered around, trying to get a look in at the magic trick. Even though it had apparently gone a little…wrong, the small elf girl was fascinated by it. However when Enine looked back in her direction, she instantly diverted her attention, pretending she hadn’t been watching. Jumping up, she stood on the back of a nearby cart, getting some height so that she could be seen.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, if you would please follow me, the tour will begin,” she announced with a small bobbing curtsy. “And if you have any questions about the tour or about Merchurdon, I’ll be only too glad to answer them. I know these streets like the back of my hand. We’ll start in the town centre and I’ll take you around the local landmarks, and after that, if you’re looking for something in particular, feel free to request an area to visit.”

And with that, the girl jumped down again, leading the party away from the market place. She headed down one of the many cobbled streets, along which stood many shops selling curious items, mainly of the magic variety. After a little while she turned back to the group. “Before we get right into the tour, are there any questions?” she asked, timidly but at the same time enthusiastic. “I’m open to requests too, if there’s anything about Merchurdon that’s caught your interest.”


~*~

TOWN CENTRE
The Empty Church

As William walked closer to the church, he would have felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. There was a disquieting unease in the air surrounding the church. He may have even got the feeling like he shouldn’t have been there…that he should turn back…

Having gripped the doorknob, he would have noticed how cold it felt. Almost as if it was sucking the warmth from him. As the door creaked open and he walked in, the man would have immediately felt the plunge in temperature. It was like stepping out into the cold after being inside a warm room – only this was inside a building, after being outside in the chilly morning air. As he stepped over the threshold and entered the church, a sudden quiet would have fallen all around him. Not a pleasant kind of quiet either…an eerie sort of quiet, as if all sound from the world had vanished. No noises from outside could be heard. And yet, if he had put his head back outside, the sounds of the city would have flooded back into his ears, as if something held back even sounds from getting inside the church. The silence would have been unsettling…the kind of silence that makes you want to make a noise, just so you don’t have to listen to it. Something in his subconscious would have told William to leave the church immediately. It wasn’t just the church telling him to leave…part of him would have wanted to go as far away from the place as possible, just like every other person who had ever walked its cold stone floors.

As for the appearance of the church, at first glance there was nothing remarkable about it. Nothing sinister, nothing that told of ghost stories. The building was old, very old. The décor was ancient, even by Victorian Merchurdon standards. A thick layer of dust covered almost every surface…even the floor looked like it had been disturbed only a few times in many years.

Yet there was something…not quite right about it. Apart from the dust, everything stood as if it had been suspended in time. Everything was old, and yet nothing had crumbled. The walls and rafters were in perfect condition. The roof had no holes or leaks. None of the wood was rotten or decaying. Even the prayer books, though covered in dust and yellow with age, would not have fallen to pieces if you held it in your hands, neither had any of the pages curled. And the printed words within them would not have faded, looking as perfect as the day they had been written. No, there was something odd about this church. And yet still, it was nothing like the usual ‘haunted’ church you expected to hear in ghost stories. It was…a different kind of eerie. And yet you couldn’t put your finger on it.

More curious still was the fact that there were no animals, or traces of any creature having been there. An old abandoned church like this one, the place should have been overrun with rats. At yet there was nothing. Not a single living soul appeared to be inside that church, apart from William himself. There weren’t even any cobwebs. Not one. As if even the spiders had the sense to keep away. Everything was set out neatly, looking as if the church had been abandoned just before a service. Nothing was out of place, every object was in the place it should have been.

The front doors behind William were still open, almost welcoming him to step back outside, should he choose to. But the longer he stayed inside, the more difficult he would have found it not to leave. Already, it was as if something was pushing him out.

Currently, William stood in the nave of the church – the main place where congregations were held. There was a door just left of the altar, and another along the wall to his left. Both of them were closed, looking like they hadn’t been opened in decades – and yet if he had tried to, he would have found that they opened quite easily. Yet like the rest of the church, any attempt to move forward would have felt more and more like something wanted him out…like something inside himself wanted him out… Like an irrational fear of something you can not describe, something would have made William feel like he did not want to linger here.

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Hiryu: Doc's bag is a portal. She's actually from another dimension and when she jumped into it, she ended up at a desk with a browser open on this site. That's how she found it.
We have a Doctor Who thread now. Doctor Who threads are cool.

Marcey - About to leave? - Status: A bit confused and ready to go - Here you go

She pulled out a hankerchief and wrapped about ten cookies in it. Here you go. Thank for guiding me home. She handed her the packet. If you're ever in my neighbourhood; stop by. I'm either at the Will'o'Wisp Bar or Pesaturo's Clockworks. I've always got cookies for little ones.
She stayed towards the back of the group. The nobleman seemed lost in thought so she didn't bother him.

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You... you really don't get it... do you? I... I love him... I'd die with him. Or for him. That's what you do... how you feel when you love someone. - Impulse

{William Livingstone}

_ Church_ Terror_

"....I...know..how to...pick a winner,..don't I...?" William joked as he entered the church. His body felt iced over as if he were standing in a harsh winter in the nude. Through what really bothered William was the strong feeling of terror this church had provided for him. William took another step further into the church and the vibe increased. " Well....something's here... isn't it?' He questioned the empty church. At this point, William was using his umbrella as a cane. He examined the room from the ceiling to the hard wood floor.


" Its...like...entering... a... new..whole...place...." William commented as he couldn't hear even the outside, just silence, complete and utter silence. Even stranger, was the condition of the church itself, certainly it was dusty, that was to be expected, but nothing was crumbling, it was all in perfect condition. Yet the architecture, compared to other house and churches, seemed to be much older. There was also evidence that others had ventured into this place, through it looked like it was a couple of years ago. So for a dusty room, how come there wasn't cobwebs or animal's inside. A sudden thought popped into Williams head, a conservation with Jame in the past considering thieves. " You...know...a ward...might explain..some of this...but I get this vibe...this is...something different.." He mentioned, he then tapped the floor with his umbrella, ten times.


William turned to the entrance as he waited for just ten of his soldiers. The entrance seemed in inviting,yet he turned a way in frustration. This could be the lead, he has been desperately looking for. As William stood in front of the door near the alter, his minions rolled right into it. "...Good...I don't ..think.. I could...brave this...without you..gentlemen ..." He said to his soldiers. He grasp the handle and turned the knob to enter the new room. " I ..don't ..know..why..but...that fable...about this city..comes to mind..." He commented as he went in with his tiny mechanical soldiers behind him.

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"Fate smiles on the strange. So its a good thing, I'm the strangest of all." - William Livingstone, Cirque de la Nuit

~Abraham Wylie~



----Location: Graveyard --> Church - Searching----

There was a certain foreboding air that lingered about.

A warning.

A sign to turn back.

Yet he still continued riding through the gravestones and statues of weeping angels, on top of a bicycle no less. The theatre that he carried on top of the back of the bicycle shook from the bumps and the rocks, he had to reach out a hand to keep it steady. Ahead, through the fog, the trees, and the foreboding air, he could see what looked like a church. The "Empty Church".

Yes, this would most definitely a place where no one would suspect someone to hide in. And since he was dumb enough to murder in broad daylight, perhaps he was dumb enough to hide around here. Perhaps.

He knew he shouldn't be here. The church was feared by even the most toughest criminal around. No one dared to go near it, not even speak of it. And if they did, they would only tell you to keep out, to never dare to explore the forsaken place, but they wouldn't give any valid reason for it. "Something's inside there" they'll say. "Something that doesn't want to be disturbed." Some drunk man once blabbered on about how people who stay in too long get trapped forever, tortured endlessly by the very thing that kept them out. The fables were frightening enough, the sort that would give the hardened man nightmares for weeks. An "Empty Church", that really isn't empty, until you find out too late.

He knew he was not supposed to be here.

But he also knew that he was a ghost story himself.

He would like to think that this was all that silly fables were. In fact, he was certain of it. Surely someone might take advantage of such lovely history, and hide in it. Isn't that what people do? Hide behind silly tales, thinking that they'll keep them safe? As if they were really going to be a part of that tale themselves?

Sure it was incredibly idiotic, sure he may regret it. But that murderer was out there. This was one of the places to look. It was either this, or the sewers. He just felt that a church would be more appropriate. People seemed more afraid of the church than they were of the sewers.

He had run over the clip from the StopRecorder numerous times before coming here, studying the silhouette's shape, how it was framed against the fog. Even though he could not see the face of the man on the roof, he could very well make due with a shadow. The only thing that worried him is that the murderer was probably smart and changed clothing in order to distort what was perceived by many. 'No, couldn't be' he thought, reminding himself of the murdere's mistake.

Abe dismounted the bike, which he parked in front of the churches doors. That sense of foreboding he felt increased as he walked towards the churches door. He felt a certain terror that told him to turn back, that he could still save himself, as if an unforeseen force was telling him of others that weren't so lucky...or for that matter, aren't so lucky. He couldn't place it, but he could sense that it would give him a certain satisfaction to turn away and leave. That didn't make sense to him. Even if he would be right in turning away (in more ways than one), why would it give it satisfaction when he gave up on his desire to enter this place by doing so? He needed to enter this church. Yet it was only his heart that was speaking this. Everything else was telling him to run like hell. Go away, and run. 'I...can't' he thought, possibly as a response to those feelings of dread. His hands felt cold on the church's doors. Go away, and run. He turned the doorknob, ever so slowly. Go away . He opened the door. RUN!

There was somebody there. Abe found himself filled with relief that lasted for a microsecond before the terror resumed. He was hoping to find someone here. The only thing that bothered him was...


He wasn't the person he was searching for.

=================================================

Abe watched as the man disappeared through a door to another room. "Can't believe it..." he said to himself. The man wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to be here. He supposed he could turn back, and go look for the murderer in some other place. He turned to look at the entrance. It looked so inviting, like a lost lover. He would have gone back, perhaps he should of. But that man...he had to figure out what he was doing here. He did not look like a murderer, or a naiive lad, what was his purpose? Abraham gulped, he had to keep moving, to keep a watch on this guy. If anything happened...he would know. The ghoul silently followed the man into the room, against his better judgment, while at the same time he could feel that damned theatre calling out to him.

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Musicmac: "Sam4Books: Always ready to cheer things up with awesome art. Terms and Conditions apply."

Minara Kali Kaur--Merchurdon/Market

Given her ability Minara reached the Market place fairly quickly. As per usual it was crowded despite its placement within Merchurdon. Looking around she searched for the barefoot tour guide. She could have sworn she knew the location of one but wasn't quite sure if her memory was serving her in the right direction. One of the downfalls about not particularly having a clear and non-vague travel point was that destinations were vast in pick where exactly to go.

She loathed the idea of missing the little guide. Keeping an extra keen eye out for anyone that even silently resembled a rabbit, just in case. She passed many a magic shop before the chiming voice of a small child reached her demon ears and they perked in response. I think I've found my guide...and just in the nick of time, how fortunate. It doesn't seem like she's moved much, mentioned something about question before starting the tour... Moving towards the girl she knelt down, handing the guide six pennies.

"I would like a tour, if you wouldn't mind darling. Use the rest wisely." She smiled as she stood and waited for the tour to actually commence.

_________________
Perhaps you are asking the wrong questions?

~~Enine Estel/Let's go!~~






Enine sensed a familiar signature approaching the group. "Ahh, it seems we have ourselves a Demon." he said. Being a Magician it would not be hard to identify beings such as that, only if they didn't purposefully hide their presence would Enine not know. This one seemed to not be hiding, hence how Enine knew of her real existence. Although she looked different from a normal person, so maybe it was not large of a feat.


"She seems to be a *good* demon" said 00, informing her master of her more in-depth search.
"A good demon? I didn't think any demons were good."
"She's a demon tied specifically to this world. Her astral presence is anchored in the world connected to this one."
"That would explain it. So she's not a true "demon" is she?"
"No, I'm afraid not."

Speaking of senses. . .Enine could also vaguely pick of the familiar scent of magic being emitted by the half-elf girl. A rare find, especially considering her appearance social status. The child must have had a natural gift of some sort.


"Oh? This tour is shaping up to be a lot more interesting then what had first appeared. . ." Already a plan was forming in that devilish mind of his. He'd have to wait until after the tour though, if he wanted to enact it. He would have to talk to her in private.


"No questions from me. I'd just like a friendly tour of the city thank-you." Enine said with a friendly smile and wave.

_________________

*WHAT I THOUGHT I'D DO WAS PRETEND I WAS ONE OF THOSE DEAF-MUTES*

"Thank you, officer." Turning, he walked a ways down the street, then headed down a back alley, he pulled a cloak out of his bag. Swirling it around him, the Raven Wings displayed upon the back, he pulled it up over his face and climbed up onto a ledge on the building, then continued his way up to the top. Sprinting over to the relative location where he'd first seen the movement. Inspecting the scene, he knelt down to hide himself from the street. Blood form the body of the girl and a pair of bloody footprints. The footprints were vaguely humanoid, with claws on the ends. Perhaps a demon or half-demon. Taking one last look, he noticed a warping in the magical matrices, but not enough for him to get a lock or follow it. Damn.

Walking away from the scene, he ran a few buildings away before dropping back down to the ground in a different alley. Making sure no one was watching, he removed his cloak and walked out of the alleyway. Heading back to his house, he passed an alchemical shop. Looking at the sign, he saw the name Paeter Sym on it. Not knowing who Paeter was, he made a mental note to bring it up with Jackie or Bruno when he got the chance. Heading down his street, he looked out at the park he lived next to. It was mostly dead, but it was still nicer to look at than an abandoned warehouse. Pulling out his key, he unlocked his door and pushed inside the two story building. Locking the door behind him, he tossed his coat onto a coat rack and removed his shoes. Heading upstairs, he removed his clothing as he headed for the bathroom, but made sure to place his cloak in it's wardrobe. Turning on the shower, he waited for it to get hot. Stepping in, he bathed quickly, then stepped out again, drying off his mechanical arm first. Stepping into the adjoining room, he opened up his closet, sifting through his clothes trying to find something appropriate. Pulling out his best suit, he set it down on his bed. Pulling on some casual clothes, he put his hair up in his towel and walked to his kitchen. Pulling out some bread and cheese, he ate his breakfast slowly savouring it.

Finishing up his breakfast, he finished drying his hair and walked back up the stairs. Donning the fancy clothes carefully, he dressed in the fine attire. He always loved the feel of silk on his skin. Heading back down the stairs he pulled out his key as he walked to the front door. Walking out, he locked it behind him then started the walk to the financial district where he would visit his friend, Jackie, and his wife. After the average length walk, he arrived at the gate to the Mansion. Giving a ring upon the bell, a guard greeted him. "Please state your business at the Manor Gotha." "I have business with the man of the house, Sir Jackie Saxe-Gotha. I am his friend and advisor, Gerard Escalen." "Ah yes, I see you on the list, please follow me." He swung open a man sized portion of the gate and lead Gerard to the manor. Opening the door, a butler arrived to lead him quickly to Jackie's study. Swinging the door open the butler announced his presence. "Sir Saxe-Gotha, your guest monsieur Escalen has arrived."

Springing out of his chair, the short man set down his book. "Gerard, it has been a while. I have your wine in the back, but we shall get to that later. How have you been?" He extended his hand calmly.WAiting for the butler to close the door, Gerard spoke,"Well, I've been well. I still can't believe you've moved so far up in the world. It feels like yesterday, you were magically changed into a woman, but this is quite the improvement. Althoguh quite the different kind of glory to be found than that in the old days, eh? How've you been?" "You always bring that shit up! Why? Well, I guess I've been good. There is someone special visiting the house today. I dunno if you'll get to meet her. I don't really know her that well, some other noble. I've been sent to my room so to speak. I'd suggest you settle down with a woman, but I don't know anyone crazy enough to settle down with you, much less I doubt there are any woman you find in these bars that meet your standards for a wife." A hurt look crossed Gerard's face, but it quickly passed to a more serious face. The two teased each other like this often. "Speaking of which. I crossed paths with one of those girls from about 2 months back, although not in the circumstances I would have liked to have. You see, she was found mangled and bloody. Some creature seemed to have tortured her then dropped her off a building. Not to bring you out of retirement, but I may need some help on this one." "You should really leave these things to the police. It's what they're here for. They have special Demon hunting squads just for this kind of situation." He reached over and grabbed a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses, pouring the red liquid into the glasses he offered one to Gerard. "I know, but the road still calls, but I just can't live that way anymore. This city calls to me more than the road. There is something different about Merchurdon, can't you feel it? In here?" He tapped Jackie on the chest, as the shorter man extended the glass. Taking the glass as he retracted his hand, he took a long drink, draining the glass."Fuck sometimes I just want to protect everyone, and yet I feel so helpless. Uriel help me, I'm doing the best I can, but it never feels like it is enough." He set down the glass, as he lowered his head.

Filling up Gerard's glass again, he raised his glass. "A toast. To the fine job you've been doing." Refusing to raise his glass, he spoke, "Aye. Just like I protected Mark. Just as I stood idle as Kirin killed villagers. Just as I failed the land. Just as I was fooled by our companions. I promised never again and yet I've let myself down again once more." Taking a sip, he set the glass down. "Just like you saved Damien. Just like you saved Bruno and I from Kirin. Just like you helped the villagers with the demon. Just like when we slew that dragon. And when we prevented the invasion. You led us there. You protected us. It was you that got us out of those sticky situations. You are a true hero, Gerard." Jackie tapped his glass into Gerard's and took a drink of the wine. "Well when you put it that way..." He too brought his glass up.

A light tapping was heard as the two took their drinks of wine. "Milord, Lady Saxe-Gotha would have both of you come to the dining hall for lunch with her guest." "Yes we shall be there shortly." Jackie spoke to the man. "Well looks like you may get to meet that guest after all." The two friends rose and headed down the long hallways towards the dining hall. Upon their arrival, the butler opened the door and announced their presence. "I have the honour to present, Baron Jackie Saxe-Gotha and his advisor Monsieur Gerard Escalen." Taking a bow to the company, Gerard made sure not to spill his wine.

_________________

Paeter - 5 point canal

He hated this part of town; the straight canal lanes flanked high either side by twisted houses and ugly warehouses. Barges and narrow boats churned through the inky water, delivering whatever passed as their trade to the waiting dock hands to be turned into marketable crap for the masses. Although the majority were honest workers, they all looked like unsavoury characters who could punch through brick walls whit out breaking a sweat, or quick-knives, thin and eiry men who would as soon as cut you as talk to you.
A rat catcher passed by Paeter and tipped his crocked hat, keeping a wary gaze on this obviously better off individual. Paeter didn’t think he recognised the catcher, so was surprised by the high courtesy he showed him until he remembered he was wearing his obvious Black Watch Smoke coat; any officiated guild member knew of the the Black Watch and the imperial backing they had, not to mention Paeter’s connections within the rat catchers guild.
He rounded a bend to were a charred black remains of a small trademans office stood, contains the only mark of the rivalry between the different companies at the 5 Point canal change. Dispersed between the burnt supports of the house stood the few members of the Black Watch Paeter knew, those he had been thrust in upon by bribery and black mail, watched his approach with disdain and a little envy. Their shapes were hard to make out due to their trademark cloaks ability to look like smoke and blend into shadows and dark places, but Paeter could see their personal touches of the rather scary individuals. Hoob crouched close to the ground with a ragged appearance, sniffing intensively at the sodden air; Jaquie rested her nimble frame against a blackened support, running her golden hair through her fingers; Gildero balancing a fat knife on his fingers absentmindedly and Bricker just sat with a lopsided grin on his face.
Paeter approached with a slowly, scanning the shell they were lounging in for any sing of the only one missing from their little group. He stopped at the open wall and nodded to Gildero, who snickered and cracked a very haunting smile back at his companion.
“Your late” came a chilling female voice from above him. Out of the dark, destroyed upper floor appeared a pretty face ruined by deep violet scars. “We have work”
Bessile de Thanar froze the blood in Paeter’s veins.

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Small little creatre hyped up on red bull, will take over world... or explode on impact
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!