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Jul-6-2015 11:19

New York, 1938
St. Regis Hotel
Rooftop Nightclub

"So there I was, staring down a barrel INCHES from death...and I told the man, 'darling REALLY, if you simply must shoot me do allow me to remove my earrings. They are Cartier, you know." Molly Maltese paused to take a sip of her Red Snapper, popping the olive neatly between her cherub lips before gnashing it to a pulp. "And the man was quite flummoxed, he said- I say, is that Riza Hawkeye?"

She rose, the group of rapt men in tuxedos and women in glittering dresses and furs murmuring their protests as she wended through their knees. But the apparition she was quite sure had been Riza Hawkeye had vanished in the crowd of New York socialites populating the exclusive terrace.

"Well, this place is a bit ritzy for Riza." she murmured, fairly certain her old acquaintance didn't make a habit of populating social-climbing fetes. And she reasoned, any time Riza had appeared before it was hardly ever for a pleasant cause. Well, maybe that was unfair. It just seemed she was more the swirl-of-furs-and-stiletto-daggers type than a frothy socializer like Molly herself.

Peering around, Molly saw nothing but the shadowed faces of revelers partially cloaked in the smoky haze. She had just been about to give up and go back to her companions when the most shocking hubbub began. Over on the north part of the terrace, she could distinctly hear the shouts of men and panicked screeching of females. Moving forward, she could just make out..

"Did you see... The Ambassador... who could have... murder! Someone has pushed the Ambassador off the building!" Molly picked up speed, expertly weaving through the crowd of panicked voices. Sirens already began to sound twenty stories below. Just as she grasped the ledge and looked over, an all too familiar voice sounded in her left ear.

"Oh hello there, old friend. Lovely breeze out today."

Before her stood Riza Hawkeye herself, looking utterly unruffled as several ladies fainted behind her.

Aug-24-2015 18:32

"The item that I offer you tonight," he said sternly, "in exchange for this woman's safety, is your own life. For your failure tonight and lack of usefulness, Sphinx will have you killed. If you leave now, you may have a chance to get somewhere safe. Start over. So what will it be? Shall I finish you, or set you free?"

The leader gritted his teeth, his face was purple with rage and lack of oxygen. With all the strength he could muster, he gestured towards the light at the end of the alley.

The figure dropped him to the ground with a thud. After pausing just long enough to catch his breath, he hobbled off down the alley.

The figure walked toward Agatha Brown and helped her to her feet. Flabbergasted, she didn't know what to say.

"Thank you!" she managed to choke out, tears streaming down her face.

The figure handed her the pistol the leader had possessed only moments earlier. It was still warm and wet from his hand.

"You may need this. I might not be there next time." he said tersely. Without another word, he turned and walked away.

*TAP* *TAP* *TAP *Tap* *Tap* *Tap* *tap* *tap* *tap*....

Aug-24-2015 20:18

The train's whistle blew, echoing at the train station as the doors opened. One by one, the thousands of patrons on the train stepped off, many taking their first steps into China. Among those, were Edward and his crew. Jasper Mayfield and Thomas O'malley smiled in excitement, as they pushed their way through the crowd of people. Stanley stood next to Edward.

"You okay, boss?" He asked

Edward opened his mouth to reply. Was he okay? Some of his cash had been taken the night before by that damsel he took to bed with him, and on top of that, his luggage had been lost by the train crew. He was not happy.

"I'm fine," Edward lied. "Come on, let's go catch up, get some clothes, and go find a room. Tomorrow's going to be a very buy day."

He and Stanley hurried to catch up with Jasper and Thomas.

"Excuse me," Edward said as people pushed their way through to get to the next train, "do you-"

People ignored him, smiling and nodding
"Excuse me-" he repeated multiple times, before an Englishman finally stopped to speak to Ed.

"Excuse me, sir do you know where I can find some decent clothing for my stay?"

"Of course, good sir," the large man replied, "you want to try Messelier," he pointed back behind himself. "Three blocks down, to your left. Can't miss his shop."

Edward thanked the man and he and Stanley left. Finding the shop was easy, right where man said he'd be. Ed pulled out his flask and took a big gulp as rain started to fall from the sky. He took a step inside. Messelier was a polite Frenchman, to Edward, whom didn't trust him anyways, but Messelier seemed to know his stuff. He rang Edward up for all clothes he bought, including a large wool jacket to keep him dry in the rain.

On his way out he bumped into a young woman, and he stubbed his toe, tripping and almost knocking her over.

Aug-24-2015 20:23

"Watch where the hell you are going!" Edward screamed into the young girl's face, releasing his frustration. His toe throbbed in pain, as he dropped his clothes to keep himself from falling.

"Je suis vraiment desole monsieur, Je suis tellement maladroite!" she replied rapidly, "pardonnez-mois s'il vou plait, bon, mon bon monsieur!"

"Damn Frenchies," Edward swore as he started picking up his new clothes off the ground.

He walked outside as the young woman left the other way. But something struck him. She looked familiar, he thought. Then he shook his head. "Onion eating, bread tossing, French bastards," he grumbled to himself as he met up with the rest of his team, who laughed at him after watching him almost fall.

Night had fallen by the time they had found a decent place to rent and stay. Ed reached into his pocket for what was left of his cash. His stomach formed an empty pit when he realised his cash had been stolen.

"DAMNIT!" Edward screamed throwing the service bell from the check in counter, across the room.

"That damn French girl stole my money! I can't believe it!" Edward exclaimed. Jasper let out a roar of laughter, with Thomas and Stanley snickering behind Ed's back. "You poor loser," Jasper joked. He paid for Ed's room. "You just need a little rain cloud to hover above your head," Jasper said, still laughing at Ed.


"I hate kids," Edward grumbled.

"Don't you have two daughters?" Jasper picked back.

Ed rolled his eyes. "Jasper," he said impatiently, "shut the hell up."

Aug-24-2015 21:31


Arielle was low on funds, she knew she needed to get more, and soon. She was going to need money where she was going to be going. She spied a man leaving a shopfront ahead, loaded down with slickers, blankets, and pants.

"Now that is a slightly odd combination," she mused.

His clothes were rumpled, probably from travel, but quite well made. Arielle could make out a slight bulge in his coat pocket, it looked about the size of a flask. He was hurrying toward her, and she caught a whiff of alcohol. That decided her.

Keeping her head down, she maneuvered her way into the oncoming rich man's path. She was short, not fully grown, and he would have a harder time seeing her with his load of goods. For good measure, she purposely tripped when he was no more than a foot in front of her.

"Uff!" the man fell into Arielle, who turned and managed to keep her feet.

This would never work if she actually fell to the ground, she thought.

"Watch where the hell you are going!" the man yelled in English,

Arielle replied, rapidly, in French, "Je suis vraiment désolé monsieur, je suis tellement maladroite! Pardonnez-moi, s'il vous plaît, bon, mon bon monsieur!"

"Damn Frenchies," the irritated man cursed, trying to gather everything that had scattered in the collision.

Arielle pretended to help, really tripping the man up even more, and picked his pocket in his confusion. Once she had the man's money clip secured, not an easy job while doing in front of the person just stolen from, she did help the man, made sure all of the items he had been carrying were back in the pile in his arms, before she gave him a final "Encore une fois , je suis monsieur tellement désolé. Entièrement de ma faute," and rushed off.

She entered the building the man had just left, because it was the building that Quin told her she would find the person she needed next.

Aug-24-2015 21:32

"Monsieur Messelier?" Arielle asked the studious young man who sat in front of a ledger, a drum carder sat, full of roving, next to him.

"Oui? Comment puis-je vous aider?" Messelier said as he raised his head. He caught sight of Arielle, and broke into a huge smile.

"Elle! You look so grown up!" his shocked delightment was apparent as he stood and embraced the younger girl.

"Where is Tante A-" Arielle cut him off abruptly.

"Philippe, I can't answer questions. I do need your help. I need to get to an opium den," her eyes were serious, all hint of pleasure gone.

"Elle, you do not want to find who you are looking for, please, trust me," Philippe lowered his voice as he went and put a closed sign out in front of the shop and locked the door.

Arielle's eyes flashed, then went cold. "Louis-Philippe Messelier, I may be younger than you, but you are sworn to me. I am going, but it will be much better for you if you help me. I love you, but you know as well as I what I must do."

He studied the slim, hard eyed beauty before him, a vision from his past. He saw a hardness about her that he did not like, although it did suit her somehow. He saw her determination in the set of her shoulders, her strength in her posture. He sighed.

"Fine, but only if you stick to me like glue."

Aug-25-2015 18:12

After watching Vulkie tumble into several rocks on the way down, Riza grabbed Hassan’s head and smashed it hard against the wall three times, then pinned him up by the throat. “You little weasel,” she hissed into his ear. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you live.”

Riza threw a glance over her shoulder, where Molly was struggling to pull Marc upright. Marc’s face was white, and he kept staring blankly at his empty right hand. Suddenly overcome with an emotion she cared not to admit, Riza grabbed Hassan by the hair and half-dragged him over to the railing.

“Move,” she commanded, causing both Marc and Molly to back up. Riza pushed Hassan up against the rail, pulled his head back, and slit his throat. Before blood could come gushing out, she had kicked his body over the railing and off the train. She watched as it tumbled down the rocky ravine, the limbs turning at unnatural angles, until it was out of sight.

“I don’t make the same mistake twice,” she said to no one in particular. She clenched the bloody dagger in her fist and stalked back to her compartment.

Aug-25-2015 21:23

Molly was struggling to pull Marc up and away from the rail, fully aware that he was shell-shocked.

"It's okay... it's okay" she kept murmuring, fully aware that it was not. She couldn't even begin to wrap her head around the idea of Vulkie...no. "Let's just get to bed." Awkwardly she walked with this frozen man back to his quarters and began the steps of stripping off his shirt, tucking him in. She felt as though she had to keep her hands moving, just wanting to dodge around the idea of someone like Vulkie being so vibrant and such a bloody nuisance to being... nothing, in the space of an instant.

Molly gave Marc a final pat on the shoulder and turned to leave when his hand circled her wrist in an iron grip. Surprised, she cast her eyes to him and saw a curiously vulnerable expression on his face, almost as though he were a young boy. Her eyes burned with tears suddenly, and to disguise them she knelt and kissed his forehead, gently prying his fingers loose and giving his hand a squeeze.

"Goodnight, Marc." she said softly and closed the door behind her, wandering into the hallway. For a moment she leaned against the wall, wondering when she had got to feeling kind of old. Not completely old, she still looked damn good thank you, but old enough to wonder if this was all, and if it was- if this was the sum of her life, exactly what was it? In the space of the last few years she had grown to believe that this odd gang of men and women, some still here, some in the far reaches of the world...they were here family more than Jack or her daughter or any shadowy figures from her past had been. Now, with Vulkie...

Molly turned flinty eyes out the window as she began to move along the hallway again, her steps strong and sure. It wasn't often that Molly desired to get her hands dirty, but for Vulkie, she would. She would enact horrific revenge for her friend.

Aug-26-2015 11:35

“Detective Joseph Zeo, I believe?” The shorter of the two men in black suits approached Joseph with his palm extended. Joseph awkwardly shook it without saying a word. The man continued in crisp British accent, “I am Robert Lindel and this is my deputy William Middleton. We are representatives from the Shanghai Municipal Council.”

“Representatives… from which department? The police?” Joseph questioned.

“Well the police is part of our subsidiaries, but I am referring to the Council itself, overlooking all public works, infrastructures and governance within the International Settlement.” Lindel stood taller, although his small frame did not amount to much. “The SMC would like to acquire your help in certain… complications we are facing at the moment... Should we return to the Council hall to further discuss the details?”

“Mr. Lindel, it is getting quite late now, and given the problem you have is urgent enough for you to be able to locate me at this hour, why don’t we save up some time and just head back into the hotel?”

“Very well,” Lindel replied, “as you wish.”

Aug-26-2015 11:36


The renowned Old Jazz Bar within Fairmont Peace Hotel is unusually busy considering the late hour. The earlier guest appearance of Zhou Zuan at the Dance Hall had drew the crowd and many were still in the mood for more. Joseph easily acquired a private lounge given his frequent patronage to the bar. Priceless Lalique glass artwork lined the walls and the scent of Cuban cigar lingered in the air, a scent Joseph strenuously tried to ignore. His anguish over Zhou Zuan at the opium den was not outwardly apparent, but his mind was a torrent of anxieties.

For someone in need of immediate help, Robert Lindel sure was taking his time. He laid out the accounts of the assassinations around the globe, beginning with the English Ambassador Higgins' death in America, all the way to China’s own Shin Yiu Tzu’s death in London and Qui Lin who was recently murdered in Egypt. Of course he revealed the gory details undisclosed in newsprints, including the dismembering for THE specific organ and the involvement of the Sphinx.

“Ambassador Kerr from the United Kingdom and Ambassador Johnson from United States of America could be their next targets, and we are wary although the security around them is as strong as the Great Wall of China.” William Middleton explained. The deputy has hands too large for his body, and his voice sounded like a bodyguard himself.

“Agents from around the world are flooding into Shanghai as we speak, and it’s going to be a whirlwind: Scotland Yard, FBI… everyone wants a piece of the action.” Lindel continued, “In fact, the group of four FBI agents has just arrived this morning and we didn’t have the time nor the manpower to welcome them properly…”

Aug-26-2015 11:38

Lindel eyed Joseph carefully for any sign of acknowledgement, which Joseph naturally concealed. Joseph kept his sight on his shot of Vodka he hardly touched, his eyes unreadable. Lindel had no choice but to bluntly lay it out, “Mr. Zeo, we know that you used to work for the FBI. For reasons we will not going into right now, you have ended up in Shanghai for the past three years, and your experience with both the Bureau and our city is invaluable…” Lindel trailed off, but Joseph still said nothing. The SMC representative finally experienced Zeo’s infamous poker face. “These agents will need guidance from a true Shanghailanders in order to maneuver around the city…”

“It’s okay Mr. Lindel, you can say it. You need a glorified tour guide to babysit your visitors from America, I can understand that.” Joseph stated nonchalantly. “Just let me know how much you are willing to pay for the services.”

Zeo’s reply stunted Lindel. From what the SMC had gathered, Joseph Zeo had a strong sense of justice and unbending call to duty. This turned out to be much easier than he expected. Lindel beamed, “Of course, the Council shall pay you handsomely for your assistance, and my deputy here will help you escort our visitors as well…”