Isn't It Grimm? Whitechapel, London

ConquerorFox

ConquerorFox

Conqueror Esra Fox
th
(( This is where you shall start! ^-^ (c) to original creator of the map of whitechapel ))

Streets, long winding roads that often or not had filth, busting crowds of ladies and young lords as they wander along. To the left side of Whitechapel Road, you could see a bakery, beside it a book store. Across from those was a restaurant, and a newspaper production office. There are many more stores that you could imagine, scattered around.​
 
Axel and some other guard said were patrolling the streets, eyes narrowed and sharp as they heard quite a bit of chatter about the letters they received- however, he was not aware of the fact that they had actually received two and not just the one from the yard.

He raised a hand to scratch at his balding head and to take out a handkerchief to blow his nose. He was not an easy man to get along with, he was cold and simple and would often or not bludgeon someone rather to helping them.
 
Chester was serving a woman and her son when the letters slid through the letterbox. "Pardon, son, could you get them for me?" He asked politely as he handed the mother two sugar-dusted croissants. The young boy wandered to the door and brought back two letters. Chester didn't look at them yet, just setting them on the counter underneath a sugar pot. He served two old ladies, a young couple, and a few boys until he finally had the chance to go through his mail.

He picked up the prettier one first, as admittedly he was in awe of the handwriting. He read over it with a certain scepticism, then reread it once or twice more. He scoffed somewhat at the fanciful wording, as he had always been a man of simple means. Still, something about the plea for help made him shiver. He decided that whatever their trouble was, it was none of his business. He put the letter in a drawer behind his counter where he kept all the rest of the mail.

Chester picked up the second letter. Again, he was in awe, but this time for the state of the letter and its ugly handwriting. To be fair, Chester's own penmanship was far from the best. He read over it, not recognising the Scotland Yard seal until he was finished the letter. He thought the letter was reasonable, at first, until he got to the part about the 'suspicious figures' and 'night roamers'. Chester had been told a few times that he was suspicious-looking, and he was certainly a night roamer; the best bars opened late. He sighed a little, deciding that maybe his late night drinking should maybe be discontinued until this Jack fellow got caught, so that he wasn't mistaken for an accomplice. He quickly discounted this idea, and put the letter in with the others.

The baker returned to his counter, arranging the cakes so that they were sat out beautifully. He waited patiently for another customer to come in, humming quietly to himself.
 
Tabitha Lossen just so happened to enter the bakery, she was known to be one of the more flirty of the brothel owners in this town and was not afraid to get dirty, she was simply here to collect payment from one of the gentleman from the night before- and afterwards had walked up to the counter with a smirk playing it's way onto her rose colored lips. Her olive complextiin and soft green eyes showing Hispanic descent and she had a slightly large but not chubby figure as her form would be hourglass like.

"Hello, sir..." She pulled up a seat and sat there, seeing as others did not appear to be coming in. "You almost appear stressed.. you know what would do you some real good? What would... calm those nerves of yours?''

Her long fingernails had began to click against the table as her fingers themselves lifted and fell back in a lazy habit.
 
Chester had his back turned to the door when the woman walked in. Hearing the door open, he called a quick 'Good morning!', and that's when he turned around. His face flushed somewhat, pale brown skin gaining a definite, deep red tone. He didn't know that the woman that walked in owned a brothel, as he had never been in one. The only thing he knew of the places were what his priest told him, and his priest was quite insistent in that the buildings were one of the worst possible places on earth. He opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds, and looked at the counter bashfully. He cleared his throat, though couldn't bring himself to look up at the woman.

"I dunno, miss. Would you like to buy something?" He asked, trying to sound polite and formal, but failing somewhat. His voice was tiny and not confident. Even in all his time drinking and staying out at night, he had never been approached by a woman. Certainly not one with less than Christian intentions. He honestly just wanted to serve the woman and have her leave the shop so that he could get back to maintaining his shop...and maybe say a prayer or two.
 
The woman appeared to notice he was nervous and so when he turned to face her, she gave a snicker in response, suddenly leaning forward and snatching his hand without hesitation. Her left hand forced his to face palm up, and with her right she began to gently rub along his palm with her index and middle finger. "You know.. I am also a palm reader... I sense that you are in need of some fun, away from this boring bakery"

Although she could easily tell he did not want much to do with her, she slid a small piece of paper from her sleeve with simply the address and name written. "Hopefully, I'll see you there love... would be a shame for you to continue with all this -" Tabitha looked around, skeptical. "Mm... 'comfy' way of living."
 
A slight 'ah' escaped the bakers lips as his hand was taken. He stared at his rough, flour-covered hand in the brothel owners' two. When she mentioned palm reading, it took him a few seconds to fully comprehend what she was saying. By the time he fully understood it, she had slipped the paper into his hand. He snatched his hand away out of fear of the occult, still holding the piece of paper.

"My bakery isn't boring!" He claimed, looking around the quaint little shop. His eyes clearly held huge admiration for what he had been working on all his life. He looked down at the piece of paper, and screwed his nose up in disdain. He finally realised that he hadn't really been talking with a normal woman. He subtly slipped the piece of paper into the bin under the counter. "Please, either buy something or leave." He said quietly.
 
Viola sat quietly on a bench at the park, ignoring the occasional glance her apparel would earn her. Her back was rigid as she stared at the letter in her hand. Naturally she'd already known about the letter from Scotland Yard, but the other one...? Well, that was something else entirely.

"We are in need of help... Will be chosen whether they wish it or not."

The letter was quite perplexing to Viola, if not outright disturbing. No doubt the other officers at Scotland Yard would soon be bustling about, trying to figure out the meaning of this second letter. She should be there to help, but...

Viola sighed as she carefully folded the letter and tucked it in her pocket, her shoulders slumping. She turned her gaze to watch the other people around her, allowing their monotonous actions of every day life to calm her nerves. Just a little longer... she thought.
 
She appeared annoyed but sighed and nodded, moving to where she could see what goods he had to offer before pulling out a bag and distributing out several pounds. "Just a loaf of sugar bread, please." Tabitha had figured he would retort and may not be interested in what she had to offer, so the English Hispanic woman would buy a snack and leave him to be.
 
Last edited:
Esra walked along the streets, sure she stuck out like a sore thumb due to her apparel, but she simply could not stand the dresses woman wore now a days! It was simply awful, her black locks were moved out of her face slightly by a gloved hand. She wore a dapper black hat and male apparel that did not quite compliment her figure, but she also wore a scowl that practically read for others not to mess with her. She was simply distributing her letters that morning and had yet to decide to return to the other realm, as she occasionally would let slip another parchment piece into the wind.​
 
Chester was surprised that the brothel woman actually decided to buy something. He kept his eyes averted as he pulled out the loaf from under the counter, wrapped up in a cloth bag. He sat the loaf on the counter and took the money, slipping it into the money drawer. He began to look busy by counting his stock, but most of his attention was on the woman, making sure that she left.
 
Viola was just about to get up to leave for Scotland Yard when someone caught her eye; a woman dressed like a man. True enough, Viola herself was not dressed like a proper lady, but then, that was her. There was something not right about this other woman that she just couldn't put her finger on. The way she walked with such intent purpose, the way the other people moved around her like a shark swimming through a school of fish. She was definitely suspicious; Viola could feel it in her gut.

Viola slowly got up from her park bench and meandered closer to the other woman, stopping by a nearby newsstand to casually look at the paper. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a piece of parchment slip from the woman's hand. Curious... she thought. She didn't move to look at it though. Not yet.
 
Soon enough, Tabitha stepped out of the bakery to go bother another shop keeper, although pausing outside to hold the door for three gentlemen- one being Axel as he stepped inside with his men. That spelled trouble most likely as some people scurried out of their way. Like most others in the Yard, they would take advantage of their position to gain things for themselves.
 
Esra looked around with narrowed eyes, not noticing she was being watched although she was typically quite the observant and paranoid female. What did catch her attention, however, was how people really did move away from her. Part of her felt saddened at this but... it was not like humans knew her position and importance! Or why she was cruel visibly, physically, emotionally, and even somehow mentally to others. She sighed and suddenly turned, walking up to the same news stand as she picked up one of the news papers to examine it and look at recent happenings. 'Looks like Jack is at it again. . .'​
 
Chester didn't look up immediately from pretending to count his stock, not hearing the difference between the girl leaving and the three yard men entering. He could only tell the difference when he heard their booted feet on the wooden floorboards. He lifted his head, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the counter. He swallowed; as dim as he was, he knew that these men couldn't mean much good. "Hello, sirs..." he said slowly, baffled at the huge variety of people entering his shop that day.
 
The males seemed to blank him as they were examining his stock themselves, they did not have much words until Axel spoke up. "Ah.. Hello..." He put his hands on the counter, nails having a coat of dirt and grime under them and rather unappealing. "Do you serve booze? Doubtful, a simple baker like you couldn't afford the good stuff even if you did!" His men and he burst into laughter, "give me some of your scones."
 
Chester flinched. Why would you enter a bakers and ask for drink? He quickly came to the realisation that it was a jab at him and his income. He winced inwardly. He glanced toward the scones, all piled neatly into two separate pyramids. "Of course. Would you like them fruit or plain?" He asked quietly, walking over to the two towers.
 
The men nudged one another with their elbows in amusement at the fact that Chester was having such a soft spoken attitude about himself, they acted like a bunch of school boys. "Mm, a bit of both would do well for me- do you two want somethin'?" He turned to them and they just pointed out some random baked goods, all the while grinning.
 
Chester didn't notice any of the young boy actions, just focusing on making sure he got the orders right. He got everything correct, until the last thing that the other two men had asked for. He glanced up at the two gingerly. "Sorry, what was that last thing?" He asked quietly.
 
"They said that they wanted some croissants- or do you not have any of those~?" That was not actually what they said but the men seemed to want to have as much fun with the smaller man as they could. They always enjoyed seeing the faint minded people listen to them because of their authority.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top