Flynn Investigation & Co [A1 - THE ITCH]

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With those statements, Arabella felt a sudden awe at Flynn, clearly this was a man to be revered and someone that you did not want to prod at. "The major distributors of the drug are the TUF gang" she began, "TUF is a radical group opposed of high aristocracy and makes a muck of life around the low-born areas. They call themselves TUF because of the acronym The Utopian Fiends in an effort to gain recognition and to become a slap in the face towards the already considered 'utopian' society New Victoria is that only the High-borns know of; completely undermining those without suffrage rights, struggling through the sloshes of poverty, and tucked within the underbelly of this hell." A shudder escaped from her lips as glimpses of her past experiences flashed through her mind.

"This group is purely of terror and full of clever clod-poles. They have a very complex underground system of distribution each heavily guarded, but I may know a way around that situation." Arabella's brows furrowed once more, she began to pace in thought. Her hands clasped each other, she was still unsure if she could truly trust these people, but for the time being they may just be her ticket to freedom and a fresh-start.
 
[Arabelle]

"That's a fine start, but I'm not looking to send you guys into an underground drug rink. That could end badly. What I need you all to do is find out where it's heading and how it's distributed. Since it seems it's tampering with something else that's giving people symptoms. Do you know of any places that could be recieving this stuff? Stores perhaps? Anywhere that could contaminate something else?"

Henry turned around. "Tonic shops. I think if they're going anywhere it would be a tonic shop. You could easily blend the stuff in with something there!" Henry stood up out of his chair and walked over to his coat.

"Yes! Exactly! Do you know anything about that Arabella? Any place that you know for sure is recieving this stuff?" Flynn's voice raised. Clearly excited.
 
Yes, she did know of such a place. Arabella's pupils dilated at the thought, this could end badly for both them and if we go traipsing in there. They could recognize me and this entire ordeal could go sour, she thought to herself, but now was a time of risk taking and action, she had been running for too long. For the time being however, she should probably just list off lower places as a starting basis. "The TUF organization runs most of the taverns in the Reprieve and also are in control with similar franchises branching off to Tol and the Civil. However, I must warn you, your group looks a tad bit too fresh to enter into such lowly places. I most highly suggest perhaps a change of clothing and efficient weaponry." She began judging the style of clothing these people wore, they definitely radiated foreign and would immediately stick out like a sore thumb in locations such as the ones she was about to describe,

"Their most popular skilamalink edifices are the Ye ol' Todd Taverns. This place attracts all kinds of scoundrels and vagabonds, but clearly from your experiences and expertise I have no doubt in my mind that you'll be more than capable to deal with such. For now, rest is essential, and preparation duly needed." Arabella glanced at the ground for a moment and then shyly remarked, "Perhaps..I could be of some use to your choice of weaponry and mechanical devices. I was once apprenticed by a kind and gent who taught me his trade." She glanced up while scratching the back of her neck hoping that her comment didn't seem too pathetic and naive sounding, she suddenly felt like a stranger in a strange land or a child amongst a group of upperclassmen. Even still, hope and determination shone brightly from her hazel eyes, she was not willing to allow herself to become a shunk of clod. I will escape this hell of a place and become someone of importance in this desolate existence she thought to herself.
 
[Arabella/Everyone]

"I know where Todd Taverns is. We could head out there at once!" Henry said as he slipped on his coat and made his way to the door.

"Not so fast, Henry. Arabella brings up a very good point. We're quite under prepared for this... Not to mention I'm sure everyone is exhausted from their long journey here. How about everyone goes and settles into their rooms and get some rest for a few hours. Tonight you'll head out to get some weapons and tools and scope out Todd Taverns. As for your clothing, well, I spent a pretty penny on what's in your room, so hopefully that's grungy looking enough to pass by."

Henry reluctantly removed his coat once again and sat back down at the table. "Very well. We'll leave in a few hours." Henry picked up the brandy.

"I think you've had quite enough to drink, Henry. You don't want to be hazzard when you finally do leave for the evening." Henry closed his eyes and sighed. He picked up the bottle and glasses and sat them back up on the bookshelf.

"So to the rest of you, go get some rest. I'll have Henry retrieve you when it's time to go." And with that, the pipe fell silent.
 
When Arabella began to speak about what "she knows" Doctor Berkeley, more out of instinct than conscious decision, sat down, pulled the notebook and pen from his jacket pocket, and made the damned small thing fulfill it's name. Edward smiled at all the information, when he was last working on a case, the information seemed to flow from people's mouths as steel is soft. To say in the simplest words, actual knowledge is hard to come by. When she finished, Doctor Berkeley already had two full pages, full of possible suspicions, connections, and various outlying evidence.

The moment Flynn stopped talking Edward stood up, and strolled over to Arabella, "So my young girl, Bell. May I call you bell? I have a few questions for you." Edward smiled calmly. "Would you mind to sit for a little bit and be my magic mirror? Err, the historical reference would probably jam your gears. Don't worry, it would do the same to many of my colleagues at the university. To put simply, I would love for some more answers."

While Doctor Berkeley certainly wasn't the most practiced, or the most comforting interrogator, if he was taught anything while working as a Detective for the Police Force of Her Majesty, it was that you always interrogated your sources. Doctor Berkeley certainly didn't fear her validity, he felt he had to question.
 
Through Arabella's side sight she could see the pristinely dressed man make advance toward her position, in response and indulgence she pivoted and met him. She felt slightly uncomfortable in this elderly gents presence, it radiated the prestige and status that she was born to resent. However, in this man's voice and tone it spoke otherwise. The man then began to inquire of her information, so she reluctantly went ahead and took paces toward the settee behind the Doctor's standing. I wonder what this man's story is she thought to herself. "Er..Alrighty Doc, I'll let you pick at my clockworks a tick." Before quite ungraciously planting herself into the cushions of the seat she began, "Oh and," she glanced back and locked her eyes filled with the seriousness only a mystery could beget with the Doctor, "Bell is just fine."
 
Doctor Berkeley could almost see the workings of her mind through her eyes. The hesitation, the way she held herself. Almost surprised, anxious, calculating, and what Edward could only word as flaunting. Doctor Berkeley knew this would be an intriguing conversation. "So Bell. I'm not sure if I properly introduced myself, I am Doctor, and sometimes Professor, Edward Berkeley. Flynn chose me to be the lead investigator for this, private policing force? I'm not sure how to put it."

"Formalities aside. May I ask if you were born in this city?" Remembering the system he developed long ago, he began to peer into her every action, re-action, and word. Seeking for any sign that shows something out of the ordinary. Even though he found himself making mistakes or missing things, he was catching on quickly. Edward figured this little warm up would help him get his senses on the rail.
 
The question sent a wave of panic through Arabella. Should I reveal myself eagerly? Perhaps this is a 'copper' test, trying to pinch me out. "No." She answered, jaw firmly set and eyes blank, cold and lifeless, trying a bit too hard to imitate honesty. I don't trust these people yet. This could either go smoothly or end sourly for my well-being and future if they found out more about me now... Her eyes narrowed and scrutinized the Doctor defensively, "Why is that necessary, Sir, if I may ask? As I said previously, my past matters not for the time being. However if you do have a question to ask about TUF or the Itch then please do ask away. Other than that, I'd much rather retire elsewhere and recuperate."
 
Doctor Berkeley nodded. It was almost routine, some people answered that, some people did not. Thinking the next question in order, "Well its necessity is purely psychological." Edward cleared his throat and flexed his eyebrows, "To start off speaking about lighter and friendly things makes the subject more... Calm? In a way. Helping both me and you come to conclusions and answers taking less of our time. But if you would rather have me get to the point. Then I shall respect your wants." Edward wrote down a note in his notebook, he kept it tilted up as to not reveal what he is writing.

Doctor Berkeley smiled reassuringly, "So am I right in saying this TUF group have some sort of a political agenda? And if they do could you elaborate?" Edward flexed his wrist in preparation for note taking. Doctor Berkeley held his shoulders in such a way it seemed relaxed, but almost expectant and smug.
 
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Arabella intimidatingly watched the dancing of the Doctor's pencil as he scribbled away at his ominous little book keeping it outside the vision of her gaze. "TUF are not someone to take about lightly. They are simply put, anarchists. At some point, I do believe they did have an honorable cause and belief, but that principle has long been trampled under the weight of mercantilism economics, and power through terror." She glanced away for a moment in thought, "It is justified why there is such a group as TUF, the high-aristocracy doesn't give a farthing for our sakes anyway, to them, it is already a utopia in their high-gardens and steam-device filled palaces completely disregarding all the hardships in these low-born areas. At least people like TUF give those without a home or family some hope as they recruit younglings off the streets giving them meager shelter and commodities so that one can never complain too much yet also never feel that satisfied. "

As if suddenly realizing the sudden depth of her sentiments in her statement, Arabella focused once more on the topic at hand, "TUF can be your greatest ally or worse enemy especially in these streets. They indeed hold a 'royal flush' flush hand in the drug business. They're most favored way of distributing and transferring is through children, no one ever expects anything from little scum like them, that's why they were so effective. However, their most major distribution centers are at local taverns, under the counter type deal. The money they received from those drugs, of course, went to their political agenda as you have mentioned previously, Professor." Arabella locked eyes once again with the gentlemen as he looked up from his scrawling. The aged man seemed understanding, yet she could also sense the slight glimmer of radiating curiosity from his disposition. Quite interesting she concluded to herself. "Weaponry, a fund for bribes to obtain information, and of the such were essential to make a group like this." Her attention wandered to the far back wall where the mysterious pipe hung, I wonder who exactly this Mr. Flynn is.
 
"Interesting." Doctor Berkeley snap shut his little note book, and returned it to it's proper place in his coat pocket. "I wonder who has reported the withdrawal effects without ever taking the drug. I could see a link between TUF and sabotaging aristocrats using the drug or some modified version of the drug. But, we will have to wait and see won't we?"

Edward smiled, "I'm glad you are here, Bell. I'm sure you will make this investigation much, much easier to solve." Doctor Berkeley rubbed his hands together. "Now I think I might get some sleep before we head out on our journey."

With that he bid his farewells and entered his room. There he took off his clothes and laid down in his bed, and began to think. About the day, who he had met, what the future holds, and the sleep that awaits him. Doctor Berkeley used to hate sleep. The idea of taking time out of your day that could be spent studying, or writing, to simply do nothing was appalling to Edward. That was until one night, one of his fellow professors told him 'Carpe Noctem' or 'Seize the Night'.

And, with that Doctor Berkeley began to drift into the land of dreams and darkness. "Carpe Noctem"
 
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[Everyone]

((Time skipping for the sake of keeping things forward. If you haven't described your room yet or clothing, please do so in your next updates. Arabella excluded.))

The rain continued to fall into the night. Though it was benign, and if anything soothing to the ears as it gently rapped against the windows. This was gently followed by a mild breeze that brought the slightest draft into the HQ.

Later in the evening, Henry awoke from his peaceful nap in his arm chair. He pulled the pocket watch from his pocket and check it. "Aha! Only 9:23. Pefect timing." Hapily, Henry arose from his comfortable position, stretched, and walked down the hallway. Henry was a tad groggy from his premature drinking, but well off enough to drive for the night. He knocked on everyones door quietly. "Time to be off, investigators. I'll be in the carriage waiting!" He said loudly before runing back over to his coat and hat, and slipped it on. On his way out the door, he picked up his cane. Slender and firm oak wood. The door opened, and he stepped out into the pattering rain.
 
Cyrus awoke from his slumber. He groaned, and pulled the covers off of him. Cyrus stood up, and slowly walked to his new cloths, putting them on. I better do my best today. Do not want to screw up on my first day of being an investigator. Cyrus was slightly scared for the trials that may face him today, but he decided to keep his head high. Cyrus than walked out with a sense of confidence, he did not want to seem like a weakling who can not get out of bed. Cyrus made his way to the door, and stepped out into the rain. He loved it. The feeling of the water, hitting his skin brought back beautiful memories. He remembered a beautiful lake, and the gorgeous scenery around it.

After a second of, what seemed like true happiness, Cyrus received a slight headache, and a feeling of fear in the blink of an eye. The lake he imagined was doused in blood, running through the stream. The rain no longer felt nice on Cyrus's skin, it felt like tiny ice shards hitting him, one by one. A breeze than kicked in causing Cyrus's, whole body to feel like an icy prison with no escape. What was that? What's happening? He thought to himself shaking. Cyrus, was taking huge deep breaths, scared out of his mind.

After a few seconds of what can only be explained as true torture, Cyrus than snapped out of his trance. He noticed the carriage, and ran to it at top speed. He got in, soaked from the rain. He than put his hand on the back of his neck, and said with a slight giggly tone. "Ha...Sorry I am soaked. I just love the rain!"
 
[Henry]

"Well, that's good that you're enjoying it, Cyrus. I'm not too much of a fan personally." Henry slipped on his white gloves and he began flicking at some switches. A small light in the roof of the carriage turned on. "It makes driving these beasts much more difficult..." Henry said with a slight sigh as if he was already having to deal with the extra dificulty. "But I won't bring you down with my loathing. You've got a job to do." Henry turned back and smiled. "Are the others coming? Did they get up?" Henry faced back and relaxed in his seat. The rain continued to tap away at the roof and water droplets slowly slid down the windows like shooting stars.

Very few figures pondered the streets. All ragged looking fellows, but fortunate enough to own umbrellas. Their shadows caste across the sidewalk from the white, piercing light of the lamp posts which illuminated the falling water like snow.
 
Arabella's eyes fluttered open. Disoriented, her eyes struggled to adjust to the dim lighting of the den. As she slowly sat up she could feel the crackling vertebrae of her spine aligning itself. Ugh this couch may be the death of my back, but at least it's something. I've been through worse. Her gaze fell upon the refracted light pouring in through the drenched windows. The melodic rapping of the pitter-patter of the rain were like a million tiny hands knocking at the front door requesting entry. The victorian seat groaned as Arabella shifted her weight onto her tailbone as she sat up fully and then rose to stand. She walked over to the window and looked outside. The smell of fresh rain seeping in from the cracks and crevices of the widow's sill filled her with the nostalgia of days long gone.

Today is the day. Outside she could see, Henry clamboring into the mechanical carriage, and soon after followed Cyrus. She watched as he swept his sleek yet drenched brown hair with his hand as he cupped the back of his neck while remarking something to Henry. Henry as he was, seemed to not care and just merely stared back at Cyrus with a questioning almost sarcastic look, then smiled politely and replied to him. Arabella recovered from her watch and began to put on her gear emblazoned and punk-styled combat boots, then stepped out into the misty cold outdoors. Splashes erupted from her soles in each puddling stride she took toward the carriage, carrying with it a tinge of childlike whimsy in every step. Upon reaching the box she gave a cortious nod at Henry direction "G'day Henry" then repeated the action to Cyrus "and to you Cyrus. May today be filled with a Tol full of excitement." She added with a slight touch of sarcasm as she sat down.
 
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Doctor Berkeley awoke early, the sun was just raining. As Doctor Berkeley looked outside, he was full of dismay, it was still raining outside. While it was pleasant, it wasn't modern in the eyes of Edward. It clogged gears and got papers wet. Doctor Berkeley remembered a time when neither were of worry to him. It almost brought a smile to his face when he looked out his window, one that wasn't fabricated or made as an earnest act of benevolence. It was long ago when Edward enjoyed the rain.

Sighing, he laid on his bed and thought as he often did. Edward had done this whenever he broke routine, woke up early, and considered life. For once, Edward knew for sure that his published ideas about psychology and the functionality of the mind were wrong, they made sense, you could observe them and find no loop holes. Though from careful inspection Edward, not Doctor Berkeley, knew that he was wrong, the mind was far more fantastic and un-explorable than anyone knew. One day Edward figured he would be able to release his works, despite how controversial they might seem.

For what seemed hours, Edward laid there. Eventually being stirred from his thought by a knock on the door, Doctor Berkeley got up and put on his clothes. They were stylish, and fitting, much like the gentlemen he saw strolling through the streets. When he saw the clothes, Edward had devised a plan. 'If it is indeed this TUF group... I'll need the play the part of an intrigued business man.' Doctor Berkeley would have to talk to his team about his idea. It was quite unorthodox but then again, if it was anything he learned from working as a detective in the past, it was that fooling your opponent and giving him to reveal and build up his own weakness is the key to closing a case. Doctor Berkeley planned to do exactly that. Edward was reminded of a quote. 'One must assume a new personality when trying to appear as mysterious.'

His outfit seemed normal, until you sat across from him. The red lining made the suit pop up close, almost in a menacing fashion. The buttons were a silver with an outline of red painted metal, the collar and jacket were shaped primarily in triangles giving a feeling of power. Yet, the composition of it all made it seem relaxed, and the menacing side, discreet. To top it all off, Doctor Berkeley donned his bowler hat.

--~~-- Insidae --~~--
​
Walking out from the building, seeming to be of his mid twenties instead of mid thirties, Edward undid an umbrella, the clockwork snapped open the black fabric. The black explosion shielded him on his stroll through the rain. When he arrived in the carriage he greeted Henry, Arabella and Cyrus.​
 
Ruko had watched the exchange between the doctor and the girl rather intently the previous night, waiting for someone to say something that made sense. The stark difference in scenery had been exhausting, so she had already been tired, but they were also using words she'd never encountered before, making the whole thing rather difficult to follow. She just hoped she wouldn't be called up on it. After the exchange was over, she had excused herself and walked to the room she had been assigned. She opened the door, and was surprised at the sight awaiting her. It looked as if a lot of effort had been put into decorating it in an eastern style. Even the strange mechanical embellishments that were scattered around fitted in their own quaint little way. It was probably the first thing she had seen in this abominable city that was half-way sane.

The same however, could not be said for the clothing that had been set out for her. While it would no doubt allow her to blend in, at least theoretically, it would have been about as practical as wearing several boulders held together by threads of hemp. The original design was about as obnoxious as she had expected, with a stupendously huge dress part covered in actual metal. It was a wonder that people managed to wear this kind of thing in day to day life. It was of course then that she realised they probably took two hours to get dressed in a morning and would have back problems for the rest of their life. She had eventually chosen to disregard it completely, and vowed that she would wear her own clothes until she could find an apparel shop that was a little more down to earth. In the end, it didn't matter if she wore it or not anyway. She was clearly foreign, and no amount of metal boxes and 4 foot tall hats would change that. Plus, she felt that the kind of people they were likely to run into probably didn't care whether or not their foes were dressed for the occasion.

She wasn't sure at what point lying on the floor had turned into being asleep, but none the less, she found herself lying there bathed in refracted sunlight, and covered in aches. Apparently, western floor builders had not taken into consideration that people might sleep on them. Through the groggy haze of half-awakeness, she noticed a water outlet in the corner of the room, and proceeded to splash a quantity of the freezing water over her face, which had the wonderful effect of not only waking her up, but chilling her to the core so that she had a massive urge to do exercise. She stretched, somehow getting her arms into the impossible positions that you could only do while trying desperately to get blood into them. It was at this point that she noticed the weather. It was raining, though the water wasn't thick, so the sunlight refracted into a huge variety of colours as it shone through the raindrops and the window and projected itself onto the wall opposite. It was a good omen.

It was at this point that she realised that she had no idea how to read the position of the sun this far from home, and the time could be anything from about 6 in the morning to 2 in the afternoon. She frantically clothed herself in the same gear she was wearing yesterday, and made her way to the entrance hall. It turned out that she wasn't too late after all. While she was the last, it looked like the others hadn't been there for long.
 
[Everyone]

((Assuming everyone is in and buckled))

Henry greeted everyone, even Arabella who he showed slight amnisity to. Henry still didn't like the fact they would have someone so uncivil on the team. They barely deserving. "Be sure you buckle up. The drive might be a bit more... exciting than usual. I'm guess you've all gotten a good rest? Trust me, you'll need it." Henry flicked on a few more switches and the mechanical horses geared to life once more. Steam expelled into the cool stormy night and the click and clatter of the gears was barely audible over the pittering rain. Henry started to drive, but then stopped. "Oh, I almost forgot..." He pulled out a bag from the passenger seat and pulled out four stacks of cash. "Here are you Flynnz. 350 for each of you. I trust you'll spend it wisely." Henry handed them off to the crew. Though he was hesitant with a tinge of reluctance to hand the stack to Arabella. He had half the mind to say something, but he didn't bother. He put the bag back on the ground and drove off into the street.

Lighting flashed giving brief pictures of the people walking along the streets. Thundered boomed off into the distance and the rain seemed to come down a tad harder as they drove deeper into town. "Our first stop will be at Charleston Munition & Wares. We'll be able to purchase some weapons among other things there. The hope is you won't have to use them..." Henry trailed off turning a street corner. Water splashed as he drove through various puddles. Pedastrians jumped to avoid the muck. Most shops still seemed to be open as they drove past. The one store selling the Hydro Hats seemed to be out of customers. Over the sign, a poster said: "Sold out!". Guess the Hydro Hats are not in high stock. The white street lights blurred passed slowly as Henry moved through the traffic. To the right there was a nice little park with all sort of geard wonders. Pieces of art rotated on axis in the grass, which people even this late of an hour admired.

The drive was rather short despite the small traffic in between streets. The was small, no bigger than any of the other shops. The lights inside were dim and it seemed like the owner was cleaning up the shop. Henry pulled over to the side under a street lamp and turned off the vehicle. "I'll be in here waiting for you. Do take your time! Don't spend all your money in one place..." He trailed off as he pulled a book out from under his seat. He flipped to a page and pulled out a plain white book cover. Henry was immeidately absorbed by it.
 
"Before everyone leaves." Edward cleared his throat. "There is a note I would like to have everyone take. Our current lead is that the TUF group is poisoning the people. In my experience, the best way to investigate a criminal institution is to pose yourself as businessmen."

Doctor Berkeley locked eyes with everyone in the cabin, "Just to be clear. My name is Mister Cromwell. I handle London's exportation business. If anyone asks anything more, tell them that you cannot answer that information." Rubbing his hands together as a show of ending his little speech. "You are a group of people I selected to act as my troupe during my stay in New Victoria."

With that, Doctor Berkeley exited coach, looked to his left and right, straightened his jacket, and walked into the shop looking for the best concealed weapon he could find. Only nodding to who ever was in the shop before going to look at the wares.
 
Cyrus was bugged on the way to the store by what exactly happened. Something like that has not happened in about 10 years why now? The group finally reached their destination, and Berkeley proposed something. Cyrus nodded in agreement when Edward locked eyes with him. Although Cyrus did have a few questions. I guess he knows what he is doing, no need to bother. Cyrus thought to himself. Cyrus was about to hop out of the carriage, but was struck with his earlier experience. He did not want to seem like anything was wrong so he hurried, and hopped out of the carriage. Everything seemed fine. Cyrus sighed softly from relief, and felt the rain hit his skin once again. He did not feel comfort, nor pain from the rain this time. What is happening to me lately? He thought in his head softly. Cyrus ignored it, and ran to the front of the shop, and stepped inside. Looking for a gun, that would best suit his particular abilities.
 
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