Colin made a dismissive gesture. He smiled at the same time, though it may have been more lewd than needed. "A little bruising might be good for you," he said with a grin. His better, more sober brain section caught up to his womanizing brain and Colin appeared to deflate. He raised a hand and turned. "Sorry, love, the drink seems to flow strong tonight. I meant nothing by it," he apologized. He rose and made his way to the door. He was just about to leave when he stopped, halfway through the door and poked his head back around. "I don't know how long we'll be together for this, but if you find me too loose with my words again, feel free to get violent. I've been known to get tossed and not be kind to people," he said with a look of shame on his face. It was obvious that he was fighting many different emotions and urges. He left without further words, lingering to see if Amelia took a parting shot. He would go to Mary in the morning.

At first she seems confused by the bruising comment but then her blonde eyebrows shoot up to her forehead. As soon as you apologize though they settle down again. I'd heard hunters could be crude... she shakes her head. I assure you, if you need it I'll keep your manners in check, the woman folds her arms and stares down her nose at you like a prim school teacher disciplining a student, though a moment later she softens. But...thank you for the apology she adds with a blush and a hint of a smile. Get some sleep and we'll speak no more of it. You need to be charming for Miss Mary.

The next morning you don't see Amelia but there is a note slipped under your door claiming she would meet up with you later. After breakfast you find Mary at the doctor's surgery, though luckily her wounds were not so bad as that. She lays in one of the sick beds, bruised and paled and somewhat out of it though you expect laudanum might play a part in that. The doctor leaves you to speak to her privately though he is not far, in an office adjoining the little building. You look...familiar... she mumbles.

Colin closed his eyes for a moment to regain his composure. He was still reeling from the effects of the bottle and needed a solid day to recover. Knowing that no reprieve was coming, Colin opened his eyes and pushed through. He gave a warm smile and offering some water in a glass from the pitcher and tray in the room. He starts to speak and then stops, repeating the process a few times before finally speaking. "Aye, I suspect I am. We've seen each other a few times over the last few days. What do you remember right now, love?"

She frowns, thinking hard and then her drugged eyes widen. You...stabbed me.... a lot...but I wasn't exactly myself was I? It sounds like partly a genuine question and she closes her eyes a long moment. You almost think she has fallen asleep but then she keeps talking. Are the children safe? I remember children, and that woman... she gives a shudder. And a cave. I think whatever had me...was going to take them away. They were supposed to go to Boston. I don't remember... she winces at the effort.

Colin looked genuinely hurt when Mary mentioned the knife. A knife he still had on his person. He had tried his hardest not to hurt the girl when he discovered the truth. He had failed that part, but the girl yet lived through a possession. Hopefully God would not hold that against her. He touched her hand gently and rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. "That I did, love. By heaven above I tried to keep you as whole as possible. Not many people live through a possession. You are strong though and helped me get those children home safely. The monster in the cave is no more," he said soothingly. He did not want to upset her. Colin instead summarized the events before and after the fight at Mary's cottage. He pats her hand and does not interogate her. Instead, he answers any questions he can, avoiding spilling too many details about Hunters and not revealing the Men of Letters. Answers would come in thier due time.

She listens intently, blushing at your rubbing her hand. She is relieved at the news that everything turned out well though she looks exhausted. She asks about the demon inside her and how common they are and what can be done to prevent such a thing from happening again. Clearly the idea of ever being possessed again is horrifying to her and her face turns angry at the memory. They used me to help capture those children! That cannot be allowed to continue! All I remember is Boston. And a hotel...the Cecilia...I'm sorry I don't know more. she shakes her head, eager to give you the information even if it is not asked for. I think you've some time at least. I think it was supposed to be a week or so before the meeting. But if you do go...be careful. I do not know what awaits you. she laughs suddenly. I'm far too fond of you considering you stabbed me she winks to show she's jesting.

Colin gave her a gentle smile and patted her hand before he stood. "Don't you worry. I'll make sure that meeting is stopped. No more children are going to be taken that I can stop. You just get better. If you ever need me again or think something odd is happening, here is how to reach me. It might take a few weeks, but I'll come if I can or write if I can not," he said as he wrote the address to a paper that several of his contacts worked at. They would send the message to all the big cities as an ad. It was an easy way to contact him. It would only work once, though. He had only paid them for one ad.

Satisfied that Mary was well enough and her curiosity satiated for now, he went to report his findings to Amelia.

Thank you. I will do just that. Though...it may be nice if you dropped by just because you wanted to... she adds with a flirty grin.

It takes a bit to find Amelia, but you are informed by a towns person she was last spotted at the stables and indeed you find her there, sitting on the floor surprisingly, for a lady such as herself would likely not do so if it could be avoided. She seems not to care though, hugging her knees to her chest and staring ahead blankly. For a long moment it seems as though she will say nothing but at last she speaks. I just spoke to Victoria. Half of the men of letters are dead. They were possessed for who knows how long and when they were exorcised, well...our ranks have greatly thinned. Her voice is quiet and matter of fact but it's clear she's in shock.

Colin saw the danger that Amelia was in and sprang into action. He had heard of men that suffered great loss of friends in the Civil War decades before and never recovered. He bent down to his knees in front of Amelia and grabbed her shoulders. He squared up with her and looked her in the eyes. His face was firm but caring. "What did Victoria say exactly? How did you speak to her? Was there a telegram?" , he asked rapidly. He hoped to force her mind to focus on him and the questions than dwell on the horrible news.

Your method seems to help for her deep blue eyes flick to yours. Telegram...? N-no. I scried with her, with a bowl of water. She told me everything. Half of them, dead, just like that. Who knows how long they've been possessed. How do they expect us to function with so many dead? My friends...so many... she shakes her head and starts to tremble, still stoically keeping from breaking down. You aren't sure if it is because she is so shocked or because she is Amelia, too proper and self controlled to allow such a reaction.

Colin forced Amelia to her feet. She needed to move. Blood flow would help her ease past the shock. He knew that from experience. Improper or though, once she was coaxed to her feet, Colin embraced her with sincere comfort in mind. He knew what it was like to lose people close to you. It might have been the reason he was a little madder than the populace at large. Done with the hug, Colin eased her off and took her shoulders, squaring up with her. "Look now. We've got to get moving. There'll be time for proper mourning when the work is done. Mary told me about a meeting in Boston regarding the kidnapped children. Im sure there will be a pub on the way that we can honor the Men of Letters at, but we gotta go save those young ones. Think you do that with me?" ,he asked. His tone appealed more to her sense of duty and her stiff upper lip than it did to her emotions, but then again, that was why he had hugged her before. There would indeed be time enough for a wake following thier work. Whether a Hunters work was ever done was a completely different question.

At the embrace Amelia seems surprised at first but returns it gratefully. You can feel her shaking. As you pull back and talk of the children though she gives a quick nod, wiping at her face for she has finally allowed a few tears to fall. O-of course she straightens her dress and tugs at her sleeves. You can literally see her sense of duty overtake her as she is back to the straight faced woman you've come to know. It won't take me a moment to get my belongings. Meet me here and we'll take the wagon. If I'm correct it should take about four or five days to make it. Less if the roads are good and we hurry.

ooc: Let me know your plans for the travel time. You will fully heal by then too so keep that in mind. You will have two nights of inns and two nights sleeping in the wagon because there is nowhere nearby. One of those nights it rains. Have fun with that! ;P

Colin squinted as he looked up at the angry sky and the thunderclouds rolling and barking claps of booms at them. He had wished the wayside inns had been further along, but the city of Boston had most of the traveler lodgings close to the city. Colin shook his head and finished rolling his cigarette. It was likely the last dry one he would get. Another day of travel and they would hit the city. Two nights under the wagon for sleeping was easy enough, if uncomfortable since Amelia got most of the comfort. He smiled and looked at the small shelter the wagon bench would provide. He reckoned that a bit of canvas would serve as his own private fort against the elements. He exhaled a puff of smoke and looked around in slight panic that Amelia wasn't around. If she found out where he hid the tin of smoking supplies, he wouldn't get another one till Boston. Safe and sound for now, Colin enjoyed the crisp air and wind of the coming storm. More than weather loomed in the distance and he was not worried about getting a little muddy either way.

During your travel Amelia is mostly silent save for giving you directions via map towards your destination. She does her best to keep you sheltered from the rain with tarps as necessary, even sharing her umbrella when seated next to you as you drive. When at last you reach Boston though you are both so grateful to see the city before you that even the somber woman breaks into a tiny smile. The rain pours down relentlessly and you manage to find a city stable to store your horses and wagon. The stable hand points you toward the hotel Cecilia, looking surprised you would select that over the others and you dash in the dark through the puddled cobblestone streets, the gaslights dimly lighting the way through the storm. It is several blocks away and the going is simply awful. Fortunately your carpet bags are waterproofed so your few belongings are dry at least.

You stop under the stoop of the hotel, an old seedy looking place that has clearly seen better days. Amelia puts a hand on your shoulder before you enter. What should our story be? We could be betrothed. That would allow for separate bedrooms, not that reputations probably mean much here she sniffs disapprovingly. Unless you want to claim to be strangers again, though if word gets around we arrived together that would raise suspicion. It's up to you, subterfuge is more your expertise. I'm just interested in a hot bath and some tea, if they have the like here that is... she wrinkles her nose.

Colin thought for a moment before retrieving a cigarette. His face was a mask of contemplation as he worked through the rolled tobacco. When finished, he nodded and presented his idea. "Seedy place like this invites little questions. Easiest way to explain us together is also the best. You be the prissy upper-crust runaway from home and I'm the hired help to look after you until the tantrum ends. Boston is an old town, lots of money from both sides of the pond. No one should look to hard, especially if you make a show of being independent. I've enough street smarts to play the part of shadow. Separate rooms, but if I'm seen with you, no one asks too many questions. It'll be me trying to 'convince' you to go home," he finished. He offered a cigarette her way out of habit before placing it in his own mouth. He lit it and inhaled before speaking again, this time with smoke leaking from his nose. "Now, the ruse requires a scene when you check in. I'll be trying to stop you from it, but you say whatever you like about being out of your father's control. Call me a henchman or even a slur to drive the point home that you are a spoiled child with a family that cares enough about you to hire an Irishman to bring you home," he said, as he left the rest of the plan into her capable hands.

She makes a face at the cigarette but nods at the rest of the plan though her face is a bit startled for a brief moment before returning to a mask of calm as she nods. Alright. Let's go. She enters without another word and you can't tell if she's actually irritated at you for some reason or if she's just ready to implement the plan. She barges in and stomps toward the front desk where a greasy man with shaggy thinning unkempt hair glances up from the counter, a half empty bottle in front of him. Stay away from me you twit! she snaps back at you with surprising venom, gesturing at you with her closed umbrella. Then she turns to the desk again. I require a....room.... she looks around at the decrepit place with disgust. Best you've got. And as far away from HIM as possible! she glares back at you. The man glances at the two of you with only half interested surprise though his eyes linger lewdly on her attractive figure and fine clothes. She raps the end of her umbrella on the counter violently. Keep your eyes where they belong you impertinent fool! she snarls. I'll club this umbrella over that stringy head of yours! Now, give me the blasted key and get back to your bottle before I climb over and get it myself! And as I said, that blasted Irish MERCENARY is to stay away from me! She turns to you again, deep blue eyes blazing. I don't care how much money my father is paying you. I can take care of myself! Now go find someone else to mind! By now the man's bony fingers have found the key and he watches the exchange with a sneer, not phased by her words, well not too much. He quotes her a ridiculous price and she laughs derisively. I'll pay a third of that and you'll be lucky to get it! Or do I have to find an officer to straighten things out? Surely he would be interested in dishonest men such as yourself. With a scowl he accepts the fee and slaps the key down on the counter with a grunt, muttering that her room is upstairs.

Colin had followed the young woman with a grim look on his face. He took her tirad in stride, even throwing in a few looks of frustration and ridicule for good measure. Once Amelia was done with the clerk, Colin swaggered up to the counter and brought out a fold of bills in an obvious show of money. It was everything that he had, but acted as if it was nothing more than pocket change. "If she was a'smart as she thinks she is, she would 'ave waited for meself to check in," he said with his returning Irish accent. He wanted to sound from the Enerald Ilse but not over do it. He hadn't been since he was a kid and his natural accent was more faded. He slapped a silver dollar, followed by three more, onto the counter. "You let me know if she decides to leave and I'm not following her?" ,he asked in a casual, but firm tone. The implication that more money would be given was heavily implied by his tone.  He turned to head to a room before turning around and pulling out another pair of cigarettes. One was for him, the other for the clerk. "Anybody in the hotel that I should be worried about? Anybody might cause trouble or harass the young miss?" He was trying to leverage his knowledge from the underbelly of New York. He doubted the question would get a solid answer. He followed it up with another that was sure to start a conversation. "Any lads around here I could talk to if I was looking for work? I'm good with my fists and skilled with a blade," he said. That was likely to point him to crime and thus, to seedy people that might point him to people kidnapping children. No one could tolerate them that preyed upon the children, not even hardened crime bosses.

07:25, Today: Colin Browne rolled 28 using 1d20+12.  Streetwise.
07:25, Today: Colin Browne rolled 14 using 1d20+3.  Gather Information.

By now Amelia has disappeared upstairs, no doubt realizing you'll have better luck with her out of the picture. The man looks greedily at the money you give him and intrigued by the prospect of more. The Cecilia is...not known for it's refinement...he answers the question of Amelia being in danger. We thrive because we don't ask questions and we mind our own business. If you're worried about the miss, you can take the room across from her he flicks you a key. If she locks her room at night she'll probably be fine enough. Tell her to watch her pretty mouth though, not everyone is as good at taking abuse as I am. As for...work opportunities? Well, this end of Boston is probably full of some rough work for men such as yourself. Your best bet? There's a poker game most nights in the basement. Some are hotel guests, others just locals wanting a scratch at some out of towner's money. You can ask around there, but watch your nose. People don't take to a lot of questions. Keep it brief and don't win too much money or that's another way to get into trouble, got me?

Colin gives a nod to the man's explanation of what Colin knew entailed that rest of his night. A poker game was just what he needed. He retrieved his bag and placed it in the room across from Amelia's. It wouldn't do for him to reach out to her just yet. Instead, he spent the intervening time between then and the poker game rolling cigarettes, ensuring that he had a properly sharpened knife, and walking down the street find a decent pub in the area. He tried to rustle up some rumors of what was going on in the blocks surrounding the Cecilia, just to get a feel for the area. He also let slip to a few of the newsies, along with a few quarters, that anything new breaking should come be delivered to him at the hotel. He promised a dollar to the lad that brought him the significant news first.

Once back at the hotel, Colin geared up for the poker game. He tried a few of his palming tricks so that he would not be relying on his bluffing skills alone. The only man that lost at poker was the one that played it honest. Still, he was keen not to over step his invitation. Last thing he needed was to get roughed up for dirty dealing. Not that he would be on the losing end, it just wouldn't be fun. He made his way down to the game and started to get the feel for who was in attendance.

There are a few scraggly lads who seem keen on finding news for you. You have a feeling they will come in handy. Between the pub and the newsies you get a general feel for the area. The rest of the city is apparently pretty affluent, but in the cheap side of town things are humming. There have been homeless going missing, blood in the streets with no blatant cause, and many shifty looking meetings in back alleys that no one is fool enough to investigate. The police don't come by here much, likely a combination of fear and being paid off by the right people. New York city is rougher of course, but Boston is starting to look a mite dangerous...

When you make it to the poker game you find four other men already there, smoking cheap cigars and chuckling at some private joke. They look quite unsavory and when they see you suspicion immediately crosses their faces. In the corner is a woman readying whiskies who must have been pretty once, though hard living and a few years have creased her face and deadened her eyes. She looks to be around forty and is wearing an alarmingly low cut blouse, her breasts at least have held up nicely. One of the men takes his wet cigar out of his semi-toothless mouth to ask, Who the devil are ya and whaddo ya want?

ooc: Don't forget to roll a bluff ;)

Colin gave his trademark grin and took his cap off, bowing low. "Name's Colin Browne, with an 'e' on the end. I'm babysitting a client and she is preoccupied at the moment." He put heavy emphasis on the word preoccupied, hoping it was enough to get past initial scrutiny. He was also banking on his accent lending credit to his duobiousness. Irish were common in the Northeast and were either vagabonds or constables as far as the public was concerned. "The clerk upstairs told me about a game down here and I figured I'd join. You have a problem with that?"

12:20, Today: Colin Browne rolled 14 using 1d20+3.  Bluff.
OOC: Good to be back in a playing rhythm. Work has been rough. I also editted my character sheet for the new levels and changes. Please let me know if you see any problem.

Irish eh? Me mum was Irish. Alright, you can join so long as you've money enough. Don't get sore when you lose it all though. He turns to the woman then. Esther, fetch him a drink woman She wordlessly gets another glass and soon brings the tray of drinks to the table, her brown eyes flick to you with mild curiosity and then away again, deciding you aren't worth a second glance.

You can call me Smitt. The others are Jake, Benji and Wilfred. Don't ask me to repeat em. He begins to shuffle expertly, the others watching you warily. They seem a bit suspicious of you but the idea of a stranger's money in their pockets is temptation enough to let you stay. here Smitty tosses you a cigar as he starts to deal. Babysittin eh? That wouldn't be that woman I heard made such a fuss upstairs? Is she as pretty as Tom says? You realize Tom must be the man at the desk. ooc: Go ahead and roll a 6 sided die. If you get a 1-2 you have a crappy hand, 3-4 is ok and 5-6 is a good hand, 6 being excellent. And I shall look over your sheet as soon as I can, thanks so much! :)

Colin smiled as he took his seat and pondered how to answer the question. Colin took the cigar as he did, using it to buy him more time to think. He settled on a story and went with it. "She is right pretty, indeed. Causin' a racket is her God-given gift." He was surprised it had taken him so long to come up with that simple explanation. He looked at his hand and decided to play it strong. It was no trump hand, but if he could convince the table that he was shit at cards, they might not suspect much. Especially when he lured them in with a big hand. He was going to wait to ask question until after they were more comfortable with him.


14:57, Today: Colin Browne rolled 3 using 1d6.  Cards!

Heh-heard that too. It's to be expected. Rich folk are usually hollerin about somethin or other. I suppose she's too stuck up to ever show a man a proper time eh? he arches a seedy eyebrow and you note Esther make a face from where she sits across the room. She lights a cigarette and starts puffing irritably. The others laugh, oblivious to her mood. How well she payin you anyway? You thinkin on making us rich men tonight? Or are you one of those gutless gamblers?

Colin gave a sneer, but it had no real threat behind it. "Ain't nobody going to call me gutless after I take all your money!", he said with a flourish as he put down his cards. They were shite for the round, but he had to maintain the air of overconfidence that his roll as a prim girl's body guard might have. "I've got enough to live by and gamble some from what the family is paying me. Easy enough job though. Girl causes a scene but tends to be to scared to actually do anything adventurous. All I have to make sure is that someone doesn't try to swipe her. Last time that happened was a long time ago. When she was a wee lass actually."

He looked at his next set of cards. Same as before, decent hand, but likely to be beaten.

11:12, Today: Colin Browne rolled 4 using 1d6.  Cards again!