the mouse house

[groundrules]

Welcome to Serthica’s Mouse House — a mini plot roll for recent newcomers, lasting until 11 August. Characters who opted in are in a different physical location but can contact the group at sea through their communicators. You can use the log post below to top level and mingle, or you can make your own logs and posts.

THE MOUSE HOUSE

---

Characters awaken in the dessert, unburied from high sands, recovering in medical tents or drifting towards a caravan. After a day to mend, they are presented to the caravan leader — the Merchant, who provides them translation and communication devices.

He explains they are outsiders who have reached the world of Akhuras, where undead factions wage war with each other and the living. The undead summon otherworldly conscripts, to enslave or weaponise them in the conflict. The Merchant finds and transports such newcomers east, where beacons might return the visitors back to their home worlds. Other otherworldly guests are currently travelling the haunted Crossing Seas — the Merchant offers their names.

The group at sea will reach the beacon-bearing clockwork citadel of Serthica within days. Caravan newcomers are supplied 10,000 coins each, blade weapons and ship passage to the impoverished Mouse House — the underground outskirts of Serthica and home to beggars, smugglers, contrived thief networks and mercenaries. Here, they must complete a set of tasks to wrangle, muscle, thieve or bribe coveted Serthica passport papers for themselves and their incoming comrades. Good luck!

Image source.

CHEESE FOR THE WHINE

■ The Mouse House is the literal industrialised underworld that surrounds Serthica. Coarse and labyrinthine, it has the gargantuan width of a very large vessel (50m). Here and there, crumbled makeshift stone roads show defunct rail tracks underneath. One train still runs in the outmost pathway of the Mouse House, taking daily imported coal shipments from the port to Serthica.

■ Often filthy, dangerous and entirely cavernous, the Mouse House comprises several crammed community homes — ‘rat mounds’ — some small illicit trade and forgery shops, and hideouts for opiate suppliers, slavers and thieves. Sleep lightly and watch your backs.

■ A pathway leads out to the ports. There are no windows, and the stuffy air is unhelped by limited ventilation. A strong scent of sedative incense blooms in the air to keep the criminal population tame(r).

■ Characters are taken in by Ma’am Mariol, the benevolent matronly leader of a ring of orphans who provide courier and espionage services for the various overlords of the Mouse House. Enjoy her hospitality: dried bread, questionable soup and a resting place in her breezy enclosures.

■ Ma’am Mariol looks after 12 valiant urchins. You can enlist their services but expect they’ll want pay.

■ Twice a day, at 6:00 and 18:00, the Mouse House suffers a dull shudder for a few minutes, as if suffering the echoes of a distant, rippling earthquake. Ma’am Mariol shares this is because the two city halves of Serthica are starting to swap places: Eidris comes up in the morning, while Minaras is overground at night. They only meet for one hour during the swap.

Image source.

✘ PRIME OPPORTUNITY

Win passage into Serthica by completing quests from the list below. Multiple people can tackle the same assignment. Report in by 23:59 GMT on 10 August for your gains.

PLOY & PLUNDER

Highly superstitious gang leader Artemius Bale is holding a festivity to celebrate conquering the territory of former rival Edward Three-Hands . The crème de la crème of the Mouse House’s underworl attends in a bustling, tight space. Despite his recent victory, Artemius remains heavily paranoid and keeps his cronies on guard.

■ Steal decent garments and function invitations from attendees to join the party.

■ Ease the pockets of the many criminal merrymakers, while they’re enjoying their fine wine. The more coin you can collect for later bribes, the better.

■ Pass for one of the many séance holders and ‘necromancers’ Artemius Bale has commissioned to entertain his guests. Coax attendees that the dead want them to patron incoming travellers — You may need to pair up and simulate a few ‘haunting’ tricks to persuade them of your great necromantic talent.

■ Why not pull a fast one on old fox Artemius? You could even persuade him he has been cursed by Edward Three-Hands and will fall deathly ill or unable to enjoy his gains if he does not make amends for his wrongdoings… to your benefit.

ALL ABOARD

A time-honoured fixture of Serthica, the single coal train typically enters the Mouse House each day at 11:00 without threat or trouble. Loaded to brim, it brings in fuel and smuggled goods.

Come early morning, Ma’am Mariol’s orphan scouts mention the latest 6:00 shake has toppled large pieces of stone and metallic debris over a segment of the railway. As the train approaches, Serthica officials send word that anyone who breaks their backs helps clear out the tracks by 13:00 will earn considerable good will with the citadel’s distraught customs office.

■ Grab a shovel. Use it wisely.

■ Careful with the various oversized rats that haunt the filthier depths of the Mouse House — they typically avoid groups of humans, but will jump you if you’re alone.

THE SCRIBE

Serthica’s most skilled forger, Rayssa is returning to the Mouse House after months of imprisonment in the citadel. She brings along decades of experience crafting passport papers — and a wealth of debt collectors who want the coin she owed before her disappearance.

It is widely known she will visit One-Eye Calliope’s tavern as her first point of call, to enjoy a first drink in freedom. Her pursuers will be waiting for her, armed, prickly and ready.

■ Win Rayssa’s good will and services by rescuing her from the inevitable bar brawl.

■ Head into her heavily watched quarters in the Mouse House to collect her tools of trade — inks, parchments, pens and stencils.

■ Hold her watch or her hair while a heavily inebriated Rayssa writes up your forged passport papers.

LADY LUCK LOVES YOU

If you’re no fan of honest looting, leave your fate to chance: the Mouse House’s various taverns and gathering places host nightly gambling games, from cards to bone dice, arm wrestling and a local favourite, mouse races.

Pair up to rig the games in your favour, and win coin, passport forgeries, clandestine passage or a crime lord’s patronage. You never know what favour the right name can earn you later!

QUESTIONS

NPC CONTACT

GAINS

GRAB A FRIEND

Comments

[hatejakku]

[ Omni-... Oh, hell no. ]

I think I'm done for the day. [ Just making a 180 turn there, headed back towards Sylvain. Should he tell someone he's leaving? Maybe. He's not gonna. ]

What were you doing out here? Same thing?

[hatejakku]

[ That's... a curious question. ]

No. Has this happened to you?

[ He didn't realize that could be possible. Are there more places like this? Places that take people from distant galaxies, bringing them together for a common cause? Well, he figures if there's one, why not more? ]

[thedreamer]

[ There wasn't a need when he first approached her, not that he was conscious of, in any case. Nothing particularly that compelled him to speak with her apart from his insatiable curiosity and a thought that he might be able to help her attract ever more clients by giving her an enthusiastic endorsement. There's so much about her to unravel, he's just getting started. But, equally, it seems, she may be discerning a thing or two about him.

He doesn't know what he believes about what's about to happen, but his words do hold true; he believes her, and so, he'll follow where she leads him. ]

One very important question, actually. One that's kept me up since we got here. Did I leave the kettle on in my TARDIS before we were separated? [ He's often cracking jokes like this, that's nothing new, but he's perhaps a bit more inclined to it in the moment because the other question she asked - do you have a need - is what's really pulling at him. Every hour of every day, if he's honest. Yes, he does have a need. ] I won't forgive myself if anything's happened. Oh, sorry. Of course. Focus, Doctor.

[ It's a momentary distraction, a chance for him to catch his breath. Is he ready for what happens next? What will be revealed? What will she see?

He does, at last, close his eyes, taking a deep breath, focusing on the great need inside of him, the one that he thinks is dormant, the terrible secret. He's told friends the truth of what he's done, it's not that he carries it all alone. But no one knows the depth of the pain, not really. No one knows exactly what happened that day, no one knows that he knows precisely how many children were on Gallifrey that dark and terrible day. But his great and necessary need is hidden, not said aloud, so it couldn't possibly make itself known now. He thinks he's safe, even as he feels the familiar echoing dark creep at the edges of his mind. ]

[thedreamer]

Of course you don't, you're the picture of health, why- oh. Right. Not that sort of doctor. Happens all the time. [ He tosses his sonic-less screwdriver up in the air one more time before pocketing it securely. ] I suppose I could be, in a pinch. Bandages, I know how to use those. Not today, though, no. Today, we're delivering news together - brilliant!

[ Being able to read the notes, well, that would be ideal. But, you do what you can within limits.

Impossible to know how much he could glean from a glimpse at the notes, but he'll never not try. Feeling around and searching his pockets suddenly, the Doctor speaks under his breath. ] Where did I - it must be - yes! [ Deep in his cavernous pockets that look outwardly shallow, he finds what he's searching for and pulls out a wrapped and perfectly preserved caramel apple. ] Right where I left it.

[ The Doctor holds it out, offering it to his young companion. ] Wanna trade? You carry the morning news all the time, why not something different today?

[thedreamer]

It's very good that she believes that he believes. At least there's some belief mixed in here amongst the two of them, that should get them far, he reasons. He is confident, though. They'll be more than fine and they'll have a good laugh about this later, when they've made it to Serthica.

Falter even for a moment and they won't be believed, though. So the Doctor doesn't miss a beat, an easy smile on his face.

"Well," he starts, looking around the room, pointing to a few others in various dark corners who clearly are necromancers, both by how they've dressed and how they're currently engaging with their clients. "Bit on the nose, aren't they? Contrived, you might say. It's a challenging skill, necromancy. Not everyone can do it, but many people certainly claim to. Dress the part, put on a show, attract all sorts, collect that easy money, go about your business, with not a care given to what the person in front of you actually needs to know, or hear. Give us a try, what's the worst that could happen?"

The only thing the Doctor isn't entirely sure of here is how much of his telepathic ability he'll have retained. His sonic screwdriver is nothing more than a screwdriver, completely depleted. Will the same be true of his other abilities? If it's not, he should be able to glean enough from the man to tell a good story. If his natural psionic abilities have been diminished, though, then the next few minutes may be interesting. First, though, they need to convince this man to give them a chance.

[thedreamer]

[ Easy to miss, really. He carries on so seriously. ]

Well, wouldn't you? Imagine going about your day and being screamed at for just passing through. Not to worry, we'll have a chat later, I'll set him right.

[ Despite the temperature outside and the manual labor they've engaged in, the Doctor has barely broken a sweat. Blessed Time Lord physiology. He doesn't think about it much except in this particular instance, he does genuinely wish he could help with the unpleasant conditions those amongst his group are currently grappling with. He'll come up with something. Maybe. Possibly. ]

I'm the Doctor, by the way.

[thedreamer]

It's more to do with physiology. Evolution. My body is more efficient in making itself work than yours is. I might have been able to help you, unfortunately, but things being what they are here - [ He pulls out a small device that's quite something look at, but unfortunately does absolutely nothing here. He's used to being able to do anything at all with his sonic screwdriver, now it's just a useless weight in his pocket. He'll find a way to fix that, though, if he has anything to say about it. ]

I can't. I'm trying to find some scrap I can work with, though. Fashion something to cool it down a bit.

[matermali]

[ While Vanessa knows how important it is to remain clear-headed, the human in her struggles with going forward in this endeavor without touching any wine beyond the feigned sips from earlier in the evening. Any spirit (not that kind), or something to smoke, should be an exceptional stress release for her. She resists, insides coiled and twisted, while she carries on with a cordial smile.

He must know something that she's supposed to find out. She doesn't hurry it, letting her gaze linger when she does spot him. He doesn't look easy to approach, and so she mustn't be overly friendly, nor does she want to blend into the background. Vanessa carries on with her divinations, most frighteningly successful except for the one or two unlucky or stubborn client, until she catches their gracious host not far off about to depart a conversation.

It's only polite to greet the host, perhaps congratulate him on his 'victory', but she has no interest in his guards. Her steps are light, not that it matters in crowds like these, carrying her close but not too close, and she'll wait for their eyes to meet before dipping her chin in deference. She ought to hold out her hand, but caution keeps it near. If he hurries past, Vanessa hopes she can sense something of note, even if it's carries in a dismissive air. ]

I haven't witnessed such extravagant merriment and free-flowing libations in many years. [ It's the truth. Why lie? Appearances must matter to him, judging by his garb. ] Quite a magnificent gathering, sir. I must thank you for an unforgettable evening—yet to be concluded.

[matermali]

[ They're both unsettled, that much is clear, but neither of them is turning away completely. This will be more challenging that she had thought. They aren't real. They're figments. You must have made her. Vanessa hushes her thoughts, and eventually, she looks away first, her gaze dropping to the card on the table. The drying ink shimmers in the dim light.

No matter what the girl thinks or says, Vanessa can feel that hint of flames whenever the chains rattle in the back of her thoughts. Don't turn from it, the Thing whispers. Touch the fire. Smoke and fire. It will— ]

...Dark, black smoke...is it?

[ The wonder in her eyes dims, and Vanessa lifts up the card to gently blow on it. The corner ripples. She has never had the darkness inside of her described so poetically, aside from when her dear, ancient mentor first told her of its gravitas. I knew it the first time I felt you, this danger. I wanted to scream and bolt the door, curl up in my little bed and sleep and sleep. But you came closer. And what had happened? She brought danger with her.

It's no different now, and she ought to be more reluctant to invite another Old One into the fray of blood and smoke. Danger. No doubt, Vanessa must resist the draw. ]

Best to keep a distance, then, lest it choke you.

[matermali]

[ Amicable humility. Common enough for the average man with a good heart, but Vanessa can still be charmed by it. London is too full of ego to bother with such sincerity until one reaches the lower classes. Vanessa doesn't often travel in such circles, though she's comfortable enough doing so that she isn't remotely put off by the idea of joining him and a bunch of orphans for an adventure. ]

The tracks, is it... [ They're meant to earn coin, not spend it. But...is it any fun if there isn't a little risk of losing? ] It would be cruel of me to deny such an invitation and leave you to host so many youths by yourself. Are you familiar with the company of children, then?

[matermali]

[ It's a strange relief to be so caught off guard. Vanessa isn't the only one startled by Fei's appearance, and the looming gentleman is left with his mouth agape as the woman sobs in Vanessa's arms. A few partygoers have stopped, looking on and whispering. The man's face has nearly gone purple, but what is he to do? Lay hands on two women, one weeping, for all to see?

Vanessa reacts in time, trying not to be too obvious in her tension when Fei touches her arm. She's been careful not to touch anyone so far, but if Fei hadn't interfered, the man may have resorted to slapping her... This is far more preferable. There's no skin-to-skin contact, which she is certainly choosy about when so recently accessing her powers.

She lifts a hand as if to stroke Fei's head, stopping close enough so that her fingers barely tickle at her hair; the motion is replicated well enough, even without full touch. With a clench of his fists, the man is left glaring before he turns and stalks off. Vanessa will have to keep a careful eye out when she leaves the party. He'd already imbibed far too much wine. What's sorrier, is that Vanessa would have reimbursed him...if only he had asked instead of threatened. She is no swindler, but she has no interest in showing pity towards the brutality of men.

When he's out of sight, Vanessa drops her arm and nods her appreciation to the other woman. Her brow is perked, and Vanessa's quite charmed by her quick thinking. ]

Thank you. I would not have thought of such a ploy.

[matermali]

[ Vanessa almost chuckles at his jest, but he won't get proper results if he's too dismissive, so instead she'll offer a light 'tsk' of friendly disapproval while watching, her gaze occasionally flicking down now to follow where his hand moves. She doesn't know what a TARDIS is, but she can guess from context that it's his home. Charming.

Then, he closes his eyes and the air warms; Vanessa feels it. It had already been plenty warm. She watches and says nothing at first. His hand has stopped, still hovering.

If his curiosity is insatiable, then he's already trapped in her thrall, and Vanessa knows it. She's slow to reach across the table, leaving him to stew in anticipation (perhaps a punishment for his earlier attempt at the cavalier). Her hand creeps just beneath his to take the card, only a gentle stirring of the air tickling his skin when Vanessa pulls his choice from the table's edge to join the six card spread. It's flipped with a gentle care, and a murmur of alarm follows. X of Swords. The ten blades all pierce a dead rat's back. The card is reversed, leaving the simplistic illustration twisted around to gaze blankly up at The Doctor should he open his eyes. He may have been jesting. She still considers his question more carefully then she did before. This is not a card anyone should want to see, and her smile is gone. ]

And so, we begin at the end. [ By instinct, Vanessa has begun the Tarot reading backwards. Already, she knows this wasn't by chance. It doesn't matter if his eyes stay closed or open, so long as he's reaching an understanding. The more he does, so too does she, and the red thread of fate that earlier stretched out now tugs at their fingertips. Closer. ] The little kettle has long since been consumed by inferno, hasn't it? Do you wonder about what you left behind, then? What you continue to leave behind? Your trinkets? No. People? ...Memories?

[ The middle card is flipped. Page of Cups. A man with a flowing scarf holds an oversized goblet. Vanessa's sigh is sharp, and her voice lowers. ]

Memories are no different than ghosts. They haunt some more than others, but they now guide our present as much as they once did our past. Is it wrong to worry about them, then? Can you love someone if you miss them? It's a selfish thing, to miss anyone or anything. And so, you carry on. Don't be selfish. Ever forward. Ever backward.

[ She draws a breath, hesitating over the next card, and a dreamy glaze takes over as her voice begins to tremble. ]

What a kind teacher. What a sharp teacher. They teach you, too, don't they? Beautiful lessons. Horrible failures. Oh... But, so beautiful. They break the heart.

[ The third card is flipped. VII of Pentacles, with the number of pentacles drawn to match. Vanessa's voice drops to a whisper that scratches at the air. There isn't enough air. It seems to grow hotter. She's thirsty. These cards aren't right. The Seven of Pentacles and Ten of Swords ought to be swapped. Time isn't as it should be. ]

How lucky that it grows back. How lonely. Does it hurt? Is it a sweet kind of ache?

[matermali]

[ It may speak to her privilege that Vanessa is willing to let others carry on the more grueling work in order to pay back their gracious matron. It isn't that she thinks she's above it; she's dirtied her hands plenty in the past, and taken pleasure from it. She isn't of the mind that she has time for it, though, as it's the sort of work that can hypnotize a person. She must stay focused. It doesn't mean she can't join them and cheer them on, and learn more about them in the process.

There's also the practical matter of the overbearing warmth that makes the air feel just slightly thicker, only worsened by the quality of the air and the people that fill it. She doesn't show any of this discomfort, but even with her coat left on the blankets, the dark dress that covers her from neck to ankle isn't kind to her in this climate. She had been accustomed to and dressed for cool weather; she isn't going to try manual labor like this.

With every person she's laid eyes on so far, Vanessa has been able to surmise what their role is meant to be. Vanessa has yet to figure out the place for this puzzle piece, and following him may finally lead her to an answer. He must fit somewhere. If God has a plan, then so to does Lucifer.

The energy he emits is bright, but it draws her rather than repels. Is he blessed by the sun god? Gifted by Amun-Ra, then? There's no difference. They're all the same to the Thing deep inside of her. They're all someone that Vanessa should flee, and yet she glides closer. She doesn't consciously understand it.

Vanessa invites his staring, and she returns the look. Yet, her voice is friendly. ]

Negotiation, is it? Would you like company? You never know when you may require a woman's touch.

[growlies]

Red keeps close to Fei as they leave the tavern behind, still facing the man as she walks backward with her middle fingers pointed upward and manages to catch Fei kicking the chair in his direction. Man, even being with her makes everything feel more badass.

Once they're out the door, she'll turn back around, glancing over her shoulder but pausing beside the other woman. It doesn't look like anyone's following them. She doubts anyone would be interested in that after the display Fei put on there of her skill even if she insists that wasn't a big deal. It must take a certain amount of poise and strength and skill to make ones way through a crowd while not actually killing any of them.

Her face scrunches in brief confusion at the compliment. Mostly because she wasn't expecting that...

"Even though I pissed him off and spat on his face without a plan of how to get out of there?" She smirks a little, because she knows none of that was a good decision, but also. He pissed her off. "He did deserve to lose."

[growlies]

Red stares as she hadn't noticed his observations. Granted, she also knows absolutely nothing about alcoholism or biology or any of that so she'd never have noticed. Spirits in Purgatory can drink whatever, and it affects nothing. They're already dead.

"Holy shit, am I gonna kill him if I hand him another drink?"

No clue about how alcoholism works at all. She moves her gaze from the man to the newbie beside her, blinking a bit again at the brightness.

"...wait, are you a doctor or someone with a lot of experience with alcoholics?" Either way, she could definitely use some information about the full intricacies of alcohol damage on someone's body.

[growlies]

Uh, no. Different realms once right before I ended up here, but not entirely different worlds or... universes? I don't know how you fuckin' explain this. ( She takes a sip from her flask and then shakes her head. Becoming a living mortal being a few minutes before falling into this place has been a journey. )

Just wondering how you're holding up with... the, uh, forced change of scenery and everything.

[growlies]

Well, the newbie beside her certainly sounds very confident as well. Red's impressed with his ability to bullshit but make it sound really good. Granted, she thinks it helps he's mostly speaking truth about everything - there are people who fake being necromancers and fake everything else they do.

The man seems to consider, taking another drink from his glass. There's a flash of rage in his eyes, violence- There's a threat in the way he holds himself, but beneath the violence, Red can sense these wisps of hope and belonging. Something that hasn't been important to him for some time, and something she has never experienced herself - family.

"Okay," the man says gruffly, and it would be clear to the Doctor if his psychic abilities are in tact that he is conflicted but hopeful. His life is not one that he is particularly proud of. It's easy to be violent like his father was, but it's the violence of these streets that killed his sister in the end. "But not out here, I don't want anyone seeing or knowing."

He gestures to a private room. This works out better for them too so the man won't be distracted, so no one who is actually a Necromancer can call them on this. She doesn't see the man's sister among the spirits hanging around. It's mostly those who died of the crime lord currently putting this party on.

Red follows him into the room where there's a table and chairs. "Now like my partner said, there is a lot of people who pretend to do showy tricks with lights and shadows and candles. We're not like that, and I suspect you're a man who can appreciate that." It's taking everything in her to not throw in her curse words. "We get right down to business. All we need is to be close, quiet, and for you to think about your sister. We'll handle the rest."

[hatejakku]

[ He wouldn't say cruel, but Finn just laughs a little and doesn't argue. ]

Not really, honestly. I haven't been around kids much since I was one of them.

[ None of them were really children, though, not in that regard. Soldiers first, always. It'd be nice to be around real kids for a change. ]

Still sounded fun, though.

[hatejakku]

[ Different realms. And the cursing and drinking- Is she human? Finn's beginning to bet she's older than her looks would have her be believed. He's not unfamiliar with other species like that back home. ]

It's... a lot. I'm used to traveling to different planets or moons a lot, but nothing outside of my own galaxy. Thought I was dreaming for the first couple of days.

[ Hoped, rather. ]

What do you mean by realms?

[growlies]

( Red stares into her eyes like she's trying to decide what that means - warning? threat? No, it doesn't really seem like a threat at all - the nature of darkness is a devouring. She finally shrugs her tense shoulders even if she doesn't quite relax yet. They're all in this group now so she doubts taking a step back is really an option, and there's something familiar about her too.

Something that says she's maybe not so alone in her- in everything that she is even if obviously, this woman's way more powerful. )

I'll adjust. It's mostly strongest the first few times or if it's been awhile.

( When Hades goes for awhile to one of the other Underworlds then returns, it's like choking on it - his immense power and command over her. She'll get used to this power and aura over the time they're all here together, and it won't feel so strong any longer.

Like when someone's eyes adjust to a bright light after enough exposure. )

You said when you sense things it's not always by choice? Cause of... that darkness?

[hatejakku]

[ Great! Now he feels bad for yelling! ]

Oh, um- I'm... just Finn.

[ Not really "The General" around these parts. But also, is this guy like the Merchant or something? ]

You're new here, too, right?

[matermali]

That makes two of us.

[ The urchins are pitiable, and she doubts one day out with exotic visitors will change any of their lives, but it should give them a spark of joy in an otherwise smoggy underworld. She isn't so busy as to not endorse that, and she's more than capable of multitasking.

It will be loud. She steels herself, but will follow his lead. She's not the one that the matron asked, after all, so she must be careful about being too brash with overstepping if she wants to stay an observer. ]

Do you have any other plans? Perhaps we can locate them some special treats to mark the venture. Cakes, or sweeties.

[ She doesn't know what sort of sugar-infused goods are out there among the shops, but she shouldn't even think on it. Why torture yourself, Vanessa? ]

[growlies]

Yeah. Like none of this is real even. ( She couldn't tell if she felt that way because of the situation or because she's new to... living. ) Wait, different planets and moons? You travel through space? Because that is incredibly cool.

( It's said genuinely - space travel was not a thing at all where she was from beyond some fiction, and it's not like she absorbed any of it. ) Like different parts of the same world, y'know, like the Underworld, Earth, Mount Olympus.

[sansdoute]

Oh, silly billy, how's me to know? They're there, somewhere.

( This, spoken with the same carefree disinterest typically reserved for matters of great commerce, legislation or taxation. There's a limit to how much a woman should spare of her attentions for those things she can't alter, and she's learned hers long ago.

The day's passably bright, petrol lamps' burn deepening. The children will be wanting their breakfast, soon enough. )

Is all of it the trouble of people upstairs. We should all be minding our business, I think. Makes us kinder.

( And generous and polite and fond. All the virtues hail from discretion. ) Now, what be your doings here, poppet? Afraid our common friend wouldn't be loosening his lips long, when he spoke. Always so busy, him. Can't be helped, can it? Man must make his wages. 'Merchantry' is all so complicated...

[sansdoute]

Mmmm... right. I'm... I think...

( She won't mind, will she? The ma'am. And she doesn't need to know, and besides, when the boy slips the great, groaning heap of hand-scribed letters in the doctor's hand, there's no witness. Only him to know, only the gentleman, and grown men don't gossip or lie or tattle. Ma'am says so. Good people don't do the sort, and why'd she be letting them live with them, if they weren't good?

So they must be. So he must be right, trading the doctor his burden for the strange glistened trinket and starting the early trot down the nooks and twisting hollows of the tunnel roads. Won't be light like they see out any time soon, but they start the lamps at a hard bun, come 'morning.' )

We take them from, um. From... ( And pointing, behind himself, towards the indiscriminate mouth of another labyrinth. ) The train man puts it there. And they've got... ( A wipe of his thumb on the corners of the letters, marked with different inks of stamp. ) That's Mr. Grove, that's Mrs. Ellis...

( He's learned each and every one, knows all sorts of shapes, except... except this strange predicament of a gift in his hand, which has earned the weight of his thoughtful frown. )

What... ( And whispered, lower: ) What's it do?

( Looks like a globe, he supposes, or... or maybe one of those fine toys he sees at year's end time, when the fancier folk bring their children out for celebrations. )