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5:48pm Jan 1 2012 (last edited on 3:13am Jan 14 2012)
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Notorious Heretic Captured! Late last night, while making their rounds near the edge of town, two of Raftel's finest happened upon none other than William Archer, the previously at large criminal and practitioner of Satanic rituals. This heretic, once considered armed and dangerous, is now safely in police custody and awaiting execution on Friday, 5th May. Citizens are advised to continue cautious practices, as Archer is known to have commanded a large rapport of followers who may attempt to free him in the days before his public hanging.
A month and a half after Bryson Corsair was spirited away from the modern city of London to an alternate version of the past, everything seems to be going well. He's found himself a place aboard the skyship S.S. Moriarty and has set off following his dream -- to become a pirate. His new best friend, the pirate captain Lee Braxton, is all too eager to help him along, and the rest of the crew is equally glad to have Bryson on board.
It's during a routine ground leave that Bryson hears word of an old friend, one he'd thought long gone in the world he left behind. Though Lee assures him the two have no more in common than a name, Bryson can't resist going to check it out.
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6:02pm Jan 1 2012 (last edited on 6:04pm Jan 1 2012)
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Bryson "Bryse" Corsair age: 18 hair: light brown, straight and spiky, short, usually (85%) pushed back with a bandana eyes: golden-brown with green flecks build: average height, thin and sturdy occupation: sky pirate, first mate for the S.S. Moriarty skills: very agile, good with a knife, good sense of orientation, highly alert, quick thinker, quite daring, good pickpocket
William "Will" Archer age: 23 hair: black, wavy, about chin-length, parted in the middle eyes: light blue build: average height, thin and lean occupation: police officer, damsel skills: extremely fast on his feet, book smart, good with a handgun |
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6:35pm Jan 1 2012 (last edited on 6:40pm Jan 1 2012)
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As the crew of the S.S. Moriarty left their ship at its spot near the edge of the sky port, Rosette, the crew's crafty bosun, eyed the passers-by -- potential witnesses -- cautiously. She seemed to be the only one concerned, however. The rest of the crew seemed remarkably at ease, eager to explore the attractive, shining city of Raftel. Rosette relaxed just a bit only when a grizzled-looking man with two fingers missing from his right hand stepped forward.
Rosette slipped the man some coins and watched uneasily as he boarded the ship to keep watch. Just because he was her informant's barber didn't mean she had to trust him. Still, she had been informed that he was trustworthy, and after all, that's what informants were there for. Rosette sighed and slipped her hands in the pockets of her loose skirt -- necessary, to her discomfort, to avoid notice in town -- and looked to the captain. Of course, at some point they would have to take care of business. News would be gathered, supplies would be bought or stolen, a heading would be determined. But Lee had earlier announced a destination for himself and his still relatively new first mate, and all be damned if Rosette wasn't going to hear the end of whatever scheme he had in mind this time.
She did, of course, have some idea of what was going to take place. The little she'd heard of Bryson's old friend William suggested he was a well-intended, if fragile, man. That he happened to share a name with this criminal boded ill in the eyes of the superstitious. To be specific, Hugh had been against docking in Raftel altogether when he had heard of the villain's capture. Heinrich had also commented on the lucklessness of the situation, though he, as usual, had seemed a mite less concerned about it than Hugh. It was good for Rosette that she placed no stock in such matters, because Lee -- or, more accurately, Bryson -- had insisted that they try to get a closer look at the condemned man.
Lee, the only one who had been to Raftel before, nodded in the direction he was facing. A smile of practically fearsome intensity was emblazoned across his face. He didn't look concerned with anything in the least. "The jail's that way," he said. "Let's go."
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7:08pm Jan 1 2012 (last edited on 7:11pm Jan 1 2012)
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Bryson started forward, determination shining in his eyes. His usual smile was gone, replaced by clenched teeth to match his clenched fists. He rarely acted this way. He was always bright-eyed and optimistic, but a cold feeling of dread had swollen in his stomach and risen to his throat, making his body tense and heavy.
"It's 'im," he said quietly, as he picked up his pace. "It's 'im, Lee. There's no doubt abou' it."
Without waiting for a response, Bryson began running, pushing his way through crowds of shoppers. His feet hardly touched the cobblestone ground as he raced towards the huge prison looming on the horizon.
After spending a month and a half in the past, Bryson had become used to how different things were from his old home in modern London. But the sight of this prison gave him such a rush that his heart pounded hard in his ears. It was a massive stone fortress, a monster leering down at him. A thick wall around the prison taunted him. There didn't appear to be any guards around. Strange. Bryson clenched his fists again and ran at the wall, his feet pushing off the stone as he grabbed onto one of the bricks that jutted out from the smooth surface. Grunting softly, he began making his way up, his quick fingers finding handholds that would have been invisible to the human eye. He stopped when he was finally on top of the wall, and motioned for Lee to follow.
Dropping down to the ground on the other side, Bryson scanned the outside of the prison. He spotted a guard coming around the corner and ducked into the shadows, silently praying that the man wouldn't notice Lee.
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7:36pm Jan 1 2012
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Fortunately for Lee, he was nearly as swift as his monkey of a first mate, and quite possibly, he commended himself, doubly as resourceful. He jumped to the ground a few feet behind the guard and quickly straightened up, making his posture stiff and reeking of military. He gave himself a quick once-over, brushing and straightening his clothes and hastily tying his hair into a smart, modern (or his version of modern, anyway) ponytail. Then, putting on his best commanding air and resting his hand on the pommel of his light rapier, he cleared his throat gruffly and quietly enjoyed the startled ex pression of the prison guard -- lowly prison guard, according to his current charade, Lee reminded himself -- as he turned.
"Captain--" Lee faltered for a moment, "Lawrence." He cleared his throat and harshened his accent into one that spoke of England's north. "Captain Lawrence, here for the 2:15 interrogation of the condemned Mr. Archer. And it is currently--" Lee swiftly checked his pocket watch, attempting to conceal its battered, uncaptainly surface from the guard. "2:18, Mr. James."
"M-My name's Johnston, Captain Lawrence," stuttered the guard. Lee noticed with tense satisfaction that he was suddenly standing an awful lot straighter. "An' I didn't hear about no--"
Lee cleared his throat sharply. "Mr. Johnston," he said firmly, "You are wasting my time. To the cell, if you please." He knew it was a bit of a bold move, but at this point he knew he had better take a chance or give up the game.
Fortunately for him, the guard responded with a panicked "Yes, sir!" and began nearly marching in the direction of a dim underground cell block. Lee looked back at Bryson for as long as he dared, nodding at him to follow -- quietly.
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8:51pm Jan 1 2012
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I can't believe 'e jus' did that, Bryson, full of admiration, thought to himself as his captain strolled away with the guard. He was as silent as a cat stalking a bird as he followed Lee. The boy had mastered the art of stepping lightly, and he kept himself alert. He stopped with his back pressed against the wall as the guard led his captain inside the prison. Bryson would have to find another way in. Looking up, he noticed an open window directly above his head. It was probably open to maintain a steady flow of fresh air in the stifling heat, but right now it was going to be the young pirate's entryway.
Reaching for a handhold, Bryson started to climb up to the window, which was higher than he had initially thought. But he was determined to save his friend, and nothing, not even the devil himself, was going to stop him. He ignored the blood forming beneath his cracked fingernails and continued to scale the wall until his hand grabbed the windowsill. He pulled himself inside and collapsed against the wall, his chest heaving and sweat dripping into his eyes.
He appeared to be in someone's office. Luckily, he was that someone wasn't there. Bryson guessed the prisoners were being held on a lower level, possibly even underground. He would have to find his way to his captain -- and quickly.
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9:08pm Jan 1 2012 (last edited on 11:06pm Jan 1 2012)
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Lee, meanwhile, was having a much easier time of things. He dismissed the dim-witted guard as quickly as possible after being shown to William Archer's cell. Chances were that at least one of the men in the surrounding cells would recognize his deception, or even his face. With that in mind, Lee made no attempt to conceal his identity after the guard had gone. He untied his hair and, as an afterthought, unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt. It was unseasonably warm for early May.
Though the cell block was dim, it was not dark or damp. There were standards to meet, after all. The floors were dry and wooden, and the gas lights were all properly lit. Despite this, the occupant of cell number five-three-one-oh sat in a particularly harsh shadow, forcing Lee to lean forward and squint before he was sure his eyes were not playing tricks on him.
"Will," he murmured. "My god." He allowed his voice to raise to an audible level. "Hell, 'e was right." Lee dropped into a squat to level himself with the prisoner, his hand on the iron bar before him. "He was right, but how the devil'd 'e know?" He wiped a bit of sweat off his unshaven chin and raised his voice again, finally to a conversational tone. "Will," he said, "Will Archer, it's me. You remember me?" The prisoner moved a bit. "Lee Braxton?"
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10:10pm Jan 1 2012
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William looked up, his light blue eyes blurry with tears. He brushed his dark hair back and slowly stood up. "Lee Braxton," he whispered, his voice shaking. "You're... You're the man who kidnapped Bryson." He took a few timid steps toward the bars, then stopped and sank to his knees. Although they kept his lights lit and his floors dry, he had been the victim of prejudice ever since they had taken him in. They called him a "heretic", and he didn't understand why. They couldn't be reasoned with, either. He hardly even knew where he was. But the prison warden wasn't too worried about keeping a "worshiper of Satan" comfortable. William was positively weak with hunger.
He extended his hand and gripped one of the bars, just as Lee was doing. "What have you done with him?" he asked quietly, trying his hardest to keep his dim and dying eyes open.
Bryson had lost count of how many rows of prisoners he'd passed as he kept going down levels, knocking out the occasional guard with a well-aimed kick or punch to the head. The prisoners roared and laughed as he ran by, and he tried to ignore them. He had one goal, and one goal only: save Will.
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10:27pm Jan 1 2012 (last edited on 11:06pm Jan 1 2012)
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"Jesus," muttered Lee. He pulled a handful of crackers and cheese out of his pocket and pried Will's hand off the bar to shove the food into it. "Bryse is fine, on his way here right now." Lee knew his first mate was capable of handling whatever he was currently getting himself into. "Eat that, you look like a bloody ghost."
Lee sat back on his heel and looked at Will. "You're sentenced to death, Will." He stared at the man behind the bars. "We've got to get you out of here," he said in a hushed tone. Generally, prisoners didn't care about this sort of thing, but when escapes were mentioned, suddenly everyone wanted a piece. Best to keep it quiet. Lee quickly scanned the area, this time with a break-out in mind. It was fairly private, and quite close. The floor was wood, but no telling what was underneath that wood. No doubt the key would be needed. Lee prayed he wouldn't have to storm the prison, but he was willing to try it. In the one brief meeting he'd had with Will Archer before, he knew all he needed to know about the man: He was overwhelmingly innocent.
Lee swallowed and looked back at Will. "How in the 'ell did you get here?" His voice grew in intensity, but not volume. This, surely, was the biggest question to be asked. "D'you know this is seventeen eighty nine? What are you doing here?"
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10:47pm Jan 1 2012 (last edited on 10:51pm Jan 1 2012)
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William stared at the food in his hand for a long time before he slowly, cautiously began to eat it. He wasn't keen on taking food from this man, but the aching emptiness in his stomach won the argument.
"Seventeen eighty nine..." he murmured, pressing his forehead against the cold iron bar. Tears began to well in his eyes, and he squeezed them shut. "I don't know," he sobbed quietly. "This is all just a horrid dream... I'll wake up... I only have to sleep, and I'll wake up. I haven't been able to sleep... These men, these awful men, they yell at me... They taunt me... They taunt me, an officer of the very law that put them here! I just want to go home..." William's hair fell into his eyes as he sank back, his shoulders shaking. "I just want to wake up..."
Bryson was getting close -- he could feel it. He kept running, and he only slowed down when he had to disable a guard. He was surprised by his own strength. He was never much of a fighter, but he guessed that all that free running he did must have done something good for his muscles. He made sure not to seriously injure the guards. He wasn't there to hurt anyone. They were simply obstacles he needed to get past. Obstacles standing in the way of his goal.
He kept his head down as he ran. His feet pounded against the wooden floor.
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11:05pm Jan 1 2012
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Lee was more than a bit taken aback at Will's sudden breakdown. He wasn't used to such things. Lee had spent his life around people of strength, he himself was a person of strength, and he had never had much to do with the people on the other end of the chart. But he recovered quickly and, after a moment's deliberation, rested his hand on Will's shoulder and spoke to him in a low voice.
"This ain't a dream, I'm sorry to say, Willl." Lee thought he heard a clatter on an upper level. He hoped Bryson wasn't making a mess. They still had to get out of this place without causing a fuss that would lead to Will's early execution. Lee looked back at the formerly bold-faced cop he'd met on the street almost two months ago. "But we can get you out," he lied. "We can get you back home. Easy." He pulled an apple out of a leather pouch hanging from his right hip and handed it through the bars. "Better have that, too. Don't make yourself sick." |
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11:34pm Jan 1 2012
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A glimmer of gratitude shining in his eyes, William took the apple and held it carefully in his hands as if it were a precious jewel.
Suddenly, from across the room, someone shouted something out to William, who recoiled in humiliation and slid back into the shadows, the darkness hiding the blush on his cheeks. His trembling hands let go of the apple. It rolled a few feet away from him before coming to a stop.
The other prisoners began laughing and calling out their own indecent remarks. All William could do was close his eyes and wish it would all go away.
Bryson could hear men shouting below him. He quickly tucked the bag of money he'd "borrowed" from a guard inside his shirt and ran down the stairs to the room beneath him.
His footsteps slowed to a halt as he tried to take in everything that was happening in front of him. Lee was kneeling before a cell, most likely Will's. Definitely Will's, judging from the words that were being tossed into the air.
Anger suddenly rose in Bryson's chest, making his face grow hot. Like a flash of lightning, he shot his arm into the nearest cell and pulled the prisoner inside it against the bars. The pirate glared up at the man, who had stopped laughing and was now looking quite startled. In fact, everyone in the room had become silent
"What did I 'ear you callin' my friend?" he asked, his smooth voice turning into a snarl.
The prisoner opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Bryson shoved him to the floor and gazed around the room. Nobody moved.
Suddenly, someone murmured, "He looks jus' like... him."
Bryson ignored the whispering and walked over to his captain. "Sorry I'm late, Cap'n. 'Ow is 'e?" The young man peered into the cell, his heart breaking at the sight of his old friend.
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12:02am Jan 2 2012
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"You see 'im." Lee stood and rubbed Bryson's shoulder. "He's not good." He took another look around the room, with new eyes for the scum lining the surrounding cells. "See if you can pick the lock, Bryse. Give 'im whatever food you got on you. You can't get that lock open, we'll come back." Lee looked meaningfully at Bryson, making clear that what he was about to say was a captain's order. "We're gonna rescue him. Promise."
Orders thus given, Lee walked over to the next nearest cell and leaned against the bars, his forearm over his head. "C'mere," he instructed the cell's occupant. The man spat at his feet, but it was clear he was still shaken from Bryson's earlier outburst. Lee smiled, venom practically dripping from his canines. "Listen," he said in a falsely casual tone. "Kid over there?" He nodded at Bryson. "You're scared of 'im, aren'tcha?" The prisoner remained where he was, but he did look a bit more persuadable. Lee let off his best intimidating laugh. He knew from experience that these were not loud and forceful, but low and soft. The laugh of someone who's got it all under control. "I'm his captain, mate." Lee lowered his voice to nearly a hiss. "An' there's a reason you never 'eard of me."
Never mind that that reason was that Lee wasn't a pirate with a face, and liked it that way. Sure, his name got around from time to time, especially with Lee's brother holding the position he did, but he prided himself on being well-disguised. And few could compare to the notoriety of Bryson's distant relative anyway.
The prisoner swallowed hard and stepped closer to the bars. "Good man," Lee said with a bit of honest cheer. Nothing like easy compliance to lighten the atmosphere. "Now, tell me all you can about the guards."
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12:24am Jan 2 2012 (last edited on 12:25am Jan 2 2012)
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Luckily, Bryson was excellent at lock picking. He took out his knife and set to work on the iron lock, glancing up every few moments to make sure Will was still sitting up and conscious. The man looked horrible. Pale and fragile, like he was nearing death. The Will Bryson knew was neither robust nor proud, but he still carried himself with dignity.
"Will," Bryson said softly, and William looked up. Bryson had thought he would be surprised, perhaps even happy to see him. But the other man's tired eyes held Bryson's for only a moment before he dropped his gaze once more.
The lock came free in Bryson's hand. He quickly slid the cell door open and looked at his captain, awaiting orders.
William remained silent. |
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12:50am Jan 2 2012 (last edited on 12:51am Jan 2 2012)
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Everyone's head turned to find the source of the loud iron sound of the cell door sliding open. Lee smiled proudly. He honestly hadn't expected such a quick break-out. "Good job, Bryse." Lee clapped his hand on his young first mate's shoulder. "Stay with 'im a while. According to this gentleman, this room's not part of the regular patrol route, so you should be safe. No risky moves." Lee gave Bryson another pointed look that again meant captain's order but this time in a different way. "Make sure the others--" Lee gestured about the room to indicate the other prisoners "--know not to talk about us."
Lee tied his hair back once again and buttoned up the front of his shirt. "I'm going to go get a little reinforcement." He fingered the hilt of his rapier, the sound it made when it slid out of the sheath playing in his mind. "When you hear shouts, and it might be a while, depending on who I can find how fast... Run." Lee paused. He knelt and picked up the apple William had dropped, wiped it clean on his shirt, and handed it back to him. Then he stood and looked back at Bryse. "You'll probably have to carry him." With that, Lee walked out, taking the easy path up the spiral staircase he had come down. He had a diversion to enlist.
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1:23am Jan 2 2012
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The men in the room were quiet again, their terrified eyes fixed on Bryson. He didn't bother to turn to face them.
"You 'eard my cap'n," he said quietly, forcing every man to hold his breath and listen. "We were never 'ere."
Bryson stepped toward Will and carefully gathered the cop up in his arms. Although Will was a good five or so years older than Bryson, he wasn't that much bigger. His weight wasn't much of an issue.
Looking down at Will, Bryson realized how frail and frightened the man had was. His large blue eyes slowly opened and closed as he struggled to remain conscious. He held the apple in both of his trembling hands. Will had never been very robust or proud, but he had always carried himself with dignity. Bryson had never felt angrier in his entire life. They had done this to Will. He didn't care how or why his friend had ended up here. All he cared about was getting him home.
"Will," Bryson said softly, and Will looked up. "As soon as we 'ear shouts, I gotta run. You jus' 'ang onto me. We're goin' to get you out of 'ere. We're gonna take you 'ome."
William could hardly believe what he was seeing and hearing. Was this really the same boy he had spent years chasing around London? His nails dug into the flesh of the apple.
"Bryson..." William whispered, his eyes closing once more. He was too weak to open them again.
Bryson leaned in to listen, but William was silent. He slowly sat down with the man in his arms and waited for his captain's signal.
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2:27am Jan 2 2012 (last edited on 2:37am Jan 2 2012)
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Meanwhile, Lee was running all over Raftel in search of the most distracting woman he knew. "Rosette!" he shouted when the back of a curly orange head came into sight. Sure enough, Rosette turned expectantly, surprise crossing her face when she sighted her captain running towards her. Lee stopped before Rosette and pulled her away by the arm, the scarf she had been examining still in her hands. This, she quickly stuffed into the pocket of her skirt. Before she could ob ject, however, Lee began to explain.
"Bryse was right," he said, and Rosette's intent to complain died off abruptly. "Will's here somehow, and what's worse, he's--"
"Facing death penalty," finished Rosette. Lee grunted in confirmation. Rosette pulled her arm out of his grip and the two continued walking at as quick a pace as the crowd would allow for.
"Damned guards aren't feedin' 'im right," Lee said over his shoulder as he turned a corner, in search of the one other person he would need for his distraction. "He's weak, and they're tormentin' him, damn it. How's our food?"
"Already sent Ary and Prid out for more, they ought to be done by now," replied Rosette, jogging a bit to keep up with Lee.
"Good," said Lee, looking around the crowd. "Great. Can you give me a diversion, Rosie?"
Rosette laughed. "Mais oui, isn't that what you signed me on for?" Lee stopped in the middle of a street. He'd found who he was looking for.
"No, but I'd sign you again for it." He ran towards the tall man standing in front of the weapons shop and shouted, "Hugh!"
---***---***---
While Rosette and Hugh were busily creating a masked diversion -- with all the shouting promised to Bryson by the captain -- far away from Will's cell, Lee was hastily unlocking as many doors as he could in an attempt to make the escapes look random.
When he was done, he slipped over a wall and out of sight, circling around to the part of the city closest to the prison where he could meet with Bryson and William and make his way with them back to the ship.
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2:45am Jan 2 2012
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Bryson's head snapped up as soon as he heard the shouts that were his cue to run. Scrambling to his feet with Will held securely in his arms, Bryson bolted in the direction he had seen his captain leave.
He managed to slip outside unnoticed, but the shouts were getting louder. His heart pounding, Bryson ran as fast as his feet would carry him. He really had no idea where he was running to -- he hadn't planned this far -- but he figured the ship would probably be his safest bet.
Bryson slowed when he saw Lee standing a few yards away from him at the edge of the city. He called the man's name to get his attention and started running again. |
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3:35am Jan 2 2012
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Lee hadn't been waiting long when he heard Bryson call his name. Without another moment wasted, Lee joined Bryson and ran. The two didn't stop running until Lee ushered Bryson into a small alley and they paused to catch their breath.
"I think we're all right," Lee said, brushing himself off. They were halfway across the city by then, and the panic had mostly dissipated. "We ought to walk from here back to the ship. Less noticeable." Lee took William out of Bryson's arms and fastened the man into a piggyback by means of his belt. "I'll carry 'im the rest of the way. Light as he is, running with anything in yer arms gets tiring."
When the three finally boarded the Morrie, the sun had just begun to fall. Lee took Will straight to the sick room, it being the most private room with the softest bed, and Ary went to find some food that could be easily prepared, as Prideaux had not yet returned from his shopping. Lee pushed the two chairs in the sick room closer to the bed where Will rested and then, finally, did he stop to rest.
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9:35pm Jan 2 2012
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Bryson sat down in the chair next to his captain, his eyes on his friend lying in bed. Will appeared to be asleep. He was still as white as a ghost, and his body shook. Maybe from fever, maybe from fear. Bryson didn't know.
"Lee," he said quietly, "'Ow long 'as 'e been without food? I can't imagine..." The young pirate shook his head, biting his lip. "I swear to God, I'll get 'em back for this." His eyes were bright with anger. Hatred. He wanted revenge.
William shifted and inhaled softly. He could hear someone talking, and, curious, he slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the two men who were apparently keeping him company. "Bryson..." he said quietly. His throat was dry and it hurt to talk.
Bryson immediately reached out and grabbed Will's hand, worry replacing the anger in his eyes. "Will, you're awake," he said. Will rolled his eyes.
"Always stating the obvious," the cop croaked out.
A small smile formed on Bryson's lips. "Listen, Will... Jus' you rest for now. We're goin' to take care of ya."
William closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I... don't remember much. But I saw how those prisoners reacted to you. Why...? Are you feared now because you run with wolves?"
Bryson hesitated, then looked at Lee, silently begging him to answer Will's question. The truth was, Bryson had no idea what had happened back at the prison. But he knew Lee was hiding something from him, and now was as good a time as any for it to come out.
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