Penny -- Plans
Title: “Making of Plans”
Author/Artist: Scriptator
Fandom: Concarnadine (original)
Rating: Probably PG
Prompt #039 - “Coffee Break”
Warnings: NC-13; narrative heading into darker country. Definitely do not try this At Home. These characters have Special Immunity granted by their Author to do things beyond the normal.
Disclaimer: Everyone in here is an Original Character. Please ask before borrowing.
The girl looked to be about fourteen years old, dressed as if for school, but with a wool hat and a heavy parka jacket over her uniform. What had drawn her to Penny’s attention, immediately, had been an aura around her which she recognised from the encounter, on the previous night, with Baleia.
“She’s one of them,” she said. “I don’t know if she saw that I’d seen her, but … “
“Leave it to me,” Regina said, taking up the long staff from where it rested against the wall.
“With a honking great piece of wood ?” Dee asked.
Regina turned and passed her hand across the end of the staff. Dee looked mollified: to Penny’s eyes the whole staff was now shimmering opalescently, but given that she could also see things through it, she presumed that, in effect, it was invisible.
Regina slipped through the café’s front door, and closed the street apparently insouciant, before suddenly turning, and, using the invisible staff to prevent the fourteen-year-old from leaving, brought her back and into the café.
“Martha - tea, hot and sweet ! All right, what’re you doing ?”
“ ‘ere, woss’is ? Wos goin’ on ? Hoo’re yoo t’be draggin’ ‘n’onest schoolgirl -- ?”
Regina gently pushed the girl into a chair, with Penny and Dee bracketing her at the table.
“You aren’t going to school at half-five in the morning. So we might ask you what it is that is going on ? And, ‘honest schoolgirl’ ? I think not - “ With a flick of her finger, Regina unearthed from round the girl’s neck a peculiar talisman on a piece of leather cord.
“Schoolgirls don’t normally wear a Medmenham Knot - not unless they’re a lot older, and just wearing the outfit for … shall we say, ‘social’ purposes ?”
Dee took the girl’s hand and then let it go again.
“I’m almost sure her name’s Lorraine, and she lives about four streets away,” she said. Lorraine’s head turned at breakneck pace.
“ ’ow did you know that ?”
Dee smiled: “A lucky guess,” she said.
“So, Lorraine,” Regina said, in an ever-so-slightly-grim tone of voice: “Why were you watching the café ?”
“So, a name to …if you pardon the expression … conjure with,” Regina said. Martha’s café was behind them, already filling with early-shift workmen and the like, with Lorraine under orders to stay there until at least six-thirty (“By which time, if she actually plans on going to school, she won’t have enough time to try to track which way we went,” Regina had said), and they were on their way to Hoxton and the Balls Pond Road.
Baleia, it appeared, was Tansy Epperdyce: eldest daughter of Edward and Rose, sister to Vervaine, Moss and Peony, and to her brother Tarragon. A slight contre-temps with a teacher (or three) had led to her losing her chance of being Head Girl at her exclusive school, and a second had meant her expulsion (although she had been allowed to take her final exams first). Now she was coasting on a “final year” at a City school, taking some extra courses to improve her chances of getting the scholarship to Oxford she wanted.
“And somewhere in all that Circe Botelbruss must have come across her,” Penny said: “Because she seems to be her hench-witch in the local coven.”
Regina nodded: “I’m surprised that she could get so many girls so quickly, but I don’t suppose Paddington is so far away, really.”
“I guess - “
They had to wind their way through an increasing number of people on the streets, and conversation sometimes got fragmented.
“We need to get a wash - “
“ - and fresh clothes,” Dee endorsed, with a wrinkle of her nose.
“Just wait and trust me,” Regina replied. They were on the edge of Canonbury when she retrieved her mobile phone and made a call.
“Abbott ? It’s me - yes, I know: it’s past seven: you ought to be awake. Listen, I need the bike. Bring it to Amos’s yard - the keys are in the usual place. Yes - I know … but you won’t mind the business I’ll put your way. Soon as you can, if you would. Ciao.”
Then she turned to the other two.
“Come on - it’s only about another two miles - we should do that in half an hour.” And she jogged off, seemingly effortlessly, dodging oncoming people as a gazelle might bushes and trees.
With a sigh Penny Mortenson picked up her own pace to at least try to keep up, and in the hope that Dee Rosenorth could be encouraged to do likewise.
By the time they reached the railway, a little to the west of Kingsland, both were exhausted (while Regina acted as though they had simply been out for a stroll along Oxford Street).
“When we got to the yard, be careful what you say: Amos just knows me from the School stuff - I used to run sessions up here, and one of his grandsons came - so he won’t understand witches or anything like that.”
The yard was on a short side road off the Kingsland High Street. To look at it wasn’t anything special, three sheds surrounding space for two small vans, and a narrow stairway up to a first-floor door.
“Regina ! It’s bin a while - come on up and bring y’r friends.”
Behind the first floor door was a little room dominated by a table that more than half filled it, and a black-iron stove in the wall that poured out heat and, as it proved, bacon, toast, tea and the occasional smell of brewing.
But, within minutes, Regina was moving things forward - “Amos, we need your help, again. We’ve been on the move since midnight - we could do with a bath and a bed.”
“Y’ know me, Regina - me and the boys will be aht till free or fower - tek y’r time ‘n’ just lock up when y’go.”
“Bless you, Amos - tell Frankie I’ll come and spar with him next week, if I can get free.”
“And y’rself, ’gina.”
The bathroom was cramped but the water hot and refreshing; the beds were bunk-things stacked in a back room. Penny let Dee go first and noticed that, by the time she went through, the young woman was already deep asleep. And, a few minutes later, so was she, as Regina Freewoman found when she herself went through.
Penny woke to the smell of coffee, and to find a sealed packet of underwear beside her bunk. She made herself as presentable as she could, and went out to the kitchen, where she found that the stove had also served as an impromptu clothes-dryer for her rinsed top-clothes.
And there was coffee and a doughnut. And Regina.
“We can’t stay here long - and I don’t fancy Paddington. Do you know anywhere else where we can find these witch-girls of yours ?”
“They … they’re supposed to gather in Brentford, out west,” Penny said. “I went there once and I was followed by one, and there were supposed to be more, but I got away again.”
“Are you up for going back ?” Regina rubbed her hands together. “Only I’m more a take-the-fight-to-them person, than waiting to be ambushed, on their terms.”
“I … I suppose I could. I’d be a little afraid, because last time there was someone there looking out for me, but you’ll be doing that this time, won’t you ?”
Regina smiled: “Just count on it, my dear. Head to head against a coven of witches - wouldn’t miss it for a three-course gourmet meal. Talking of which, any sign of - Oh, there you are !!”
Dee Rosenorth stumbled intro the kitchen, saw her clothes drying and fell into them with little yips of pleasure at the warmth, and more when she tasted the coffee (which, for Penny was both too hot and too strong, but she wasn’t going to complain - along with the doughnut, she was relying on it keeping her going).
“We should be moving on,” Regina said, once Dee had “breakfasted”; “It’s past noon now, and we should aim to be in Brentford by late afternoon.”
“Brentford ?” Dee asked: “Where’s that ?”
Penny explained it to her - beyond Ealing, on the Thames.
“We could get the train,” Dee said. “I know there will be some way to get there.”
“My bike’s here,” Regina replied: “And there’s a moped in one of the sheds that Amos won’t mind if I take, seeing as how it’s technically mine.”
“Technically ?”
“Its former owner isn’t with us any longer, and I don’t think the spirit that was possessing its former owner will be coming back for it, given it’s currently stuck inside the steel framing for an underground bunker, somewhere in California.”
Regina made the statement with such calm objectivity that Dee didn’t fancy taking issue with it.
“Won’t we need a licence for a moped ?” Penny asked. “I don’t have one.”
“I’m not sure what the law is - it’s only a small moped - “
“I have a license,” Dee said. “I’ve never used it, but I took the test and all.”
“Looks like we’re cooking with gas then,” Regina replied, and then faced down the strange glances she was given.
Author/Artist: Scriptator
Fandom: Concarnadine (original)
Rating: Probably PG
Prompt #039 - “Coffee Break”
Warnings: NC-13; narrative heading into darker country. Definitely do not try this At Home. These characters have Special Immunity granted by their Author to do things beyond the normal.
Disclaimer: Everyone in here is an Original Character. Please ask before borrowing.
The girl looked to be about fourteen years old, dressed as if for school, but with a wool hat and a heavy parka jacket over her uniform. What had drawn her to Penny’s attention, immediately, had been an aura around her which she recognised from the encounter, on the previous night, with Baleia.
“She’s one of them,” she said. “I don’t know if she saw that I’d seen her, but … “
“Leave it to me,” Regina said, taking up the long staff from where it rested against the wall.
“With a honking great piece of wood ?” Dee asked.
Regina turned and passed her hand across the end of the staff. Dee looked mollified: to Penny’s eyes the whole staff was now shimmering opalescently, but given that she could also see things through it, she presumed that, in effect, it was invisible.
Regina slipped through the café’s front door, and closed the street apparently insouciant, before suddenly turning, and, using the invisible staff to prevent the fourteen-year-old from leaving, brought her back and into the café.
“Martha - tea, hot and sweet ! All right, what’re you doing ?”
“ ‘ere, woss’is ? Wos goin’ on ? Hoo’re yoo t’be draggin’ ‘n’onest schoolgirl -- ?”
Regina gently pushed the girl into a chair, with Penny and Dee bracketing her at the table.
“You aren’t going to school at half-five in the morning. So we might ask you what it is that is going on ? And, ‘honest schoolgirl’ ? I think not - “ With a flick of her finger, Regina unearthed from round the girl’s neck a peculiar talisman on a piece of leather cord.
“Schoolgirls don’t normally wear a Medmenham Knot - not unless they’re a lot older, and just wearing the outfit for … shall we say, ‘social’ purposes ?”
Dee took the girl’s hand and then let it go again.
“I’m almost sure her name’s Lorraine, and she lives about four streets away,” she said. Lorraine’s head turned at breakneck pace.
“ ’ow did you know that ?”
Dee smiled: “A lucky guess,” she said.
“So, Lorraine,” Regina said, in an ever-so-slightly-grim tone of voice: “Why were you watching the café ?”
“So, a name to …if you pardon the expression … conjure with,” Regina said. Martha’s café was behind them, already filling with early-shift workmen and the like, with Lorraine under orders to stay there until at least six-thirty (“By which time, if she actually plans on going to school, she won’t have enough time to try to track which way we went,” Regina had said), and they were on their way to Hoxton and the Balls Pond Road.
Baleia, it appeared, was Tansy Epperdyce: eldest daughter of Edward and Rose, sister to Vervaine, Moss and Peony, and to her brother Tarragon. A slight contre-temps with a teacher (or three) had led to her losing her chance of being Head Girl at her exclusive school, and a second had meant her expulsion (although she had been allowed to take her final exams first). Now she was coasting on a “final year” at a City school, taking some extra courses to improve her chances of getting the scholarship to Oxford she wanted.
“And somewhere in all that Circe Botelbruss must have come across her,” Penny said: “Because she seems to be her hench-witch in the local coven.”
Regina nodded: “I’m surprised that she could get so many girls so quickly, but I don’t suppose Paddington is so far away, really.”
“I guess - “
They had to wind their way through an increasing number of people on the streets, and conversation sometimes got fragmented.
“We need to get a wash - “
“ - and fresh clothes,” Dee endorsed, with a wrinkle of her nose.
“Just wait and trust me,” Regina replied. They were on the edge of Canonbury when she retrieved her mobile phone and made a call.
“Abbott ? It’s me - yes, I know: it’s past seven: you ought to be awake. Listen, I need the bike. Bring it to Amos’s yard - the keys are in the usual place. Yes - I know … but you won’t mind the business I’ll put your way. Soon as you can, if you would. Ciao.”
Then she turned to the other two.
“Come on - it’s only about another two miles - we should do that in half an hour.” And she jogged off, seemingly effortlessly, dodging oncoming people as a gazelle might bushes and trees.
With a sigh Penny Mortenson picked up her own pace to at least try to keep up, and in the hope that Dee Rosenorth could be encouraged to do likewise.
By the time they reached the railway, a little to the west of Kingsland, both were exhausted (while Regina acted as though they had simply been out for a stroll along Oxford Street).
“When we got to the yard, be careful what you say: Amos just knows me from the School stuff - I used to run sessions up here, and one of his grandsons came - so he won’t understand witches or anything like that.”
The yard was on a short side road off the Kingsland High Street. To look at it wasn’t anything special, three sheds surrounding space for two small vans, and a narrow stairway up to a first-floor door.
“Regina ! It’s bin a while - come on up and bring y’r friends.”
Behind the first floor door was a little room dominated by a table that more than half filled it, and a black-iron stove in the wall that poured out heat and, as it proved, bacon, toast, tea and the occasional smell of brewing.
But, within minutes, Regina was moving things forward - “Amos, we need your help, again. We’ve been on the move since midnight - we could do with a bath and a bed.”
“Y’ know me, Regina - me and the boys will be aht till free or fower - tek y’r time ‘n’ just lock up when y’go.”
“Bless you, Amos - tell Frankie I’ll come and spar with him next week, if I can get free.”
“And y’rself, ’gina.”
The bathroom was cramped but the water hot and refreshing; the beds were bunk-things stacked in a back room. Penny let Dee go first and noticed that, by the time she went through, the young woman was already deep asleep. And, a few minutes later, so was she, as Regina Freewoman found when she herself went through.
Penny woke to the smell of coffee, and to find a sealed packet of underwear beside her bunk. She made herself as presentable as she could, and went out to the kitchen, where she found that the stove had also served as an impromptu clothes-dryer for her rinsed top-clothes.
And there was coffee and a doughnut. And Regina.
“We can’t stay here long - and I don’t fancy Paddington. Do you know anywhere else where we can find these witch-girls of yours ?”
“They … they’re supposed to gather in Brentford, out west,” Penny said. “I went there once and I was followed by one, and there were supposed to be more, but I got away again.”
“Are you up for going back ?” Regina rubbed her hands together. “Only I’m more a take-the-fight-to-them person, than waiting to be ambushed, on their terms.”
“I … I suppose I could. I’d be a little afraid, because last time there was someone there looking out for me, but you’ll be doing that this time, won’t you ?”
Regina smiled: “Just count on it, my dear. Head to head against a coven of witches - wouldn’t miss it for a three-course gourmet meal. Talking of which, any sign of - Oh, there you are !!”
Dee Rosenorth stumbled intro the kitchen, saw her clothes drying and fell into them with little yips of pleasure at the warmth, and more when she tasted the coffee (which, for Penny was both too hot and too strong, but she wasn’t going to complain - along with the doughnut, she was relying on it keeping her going).
“We should be moving on,” Regina said, once Dee had “breakfasted”; “It’s past noon now, and we should aim to be in Brentford by late afternoon.”
“Brentford ?” Dee asked: “Where’s that ?”
Penny explained it to her - beyond Ealing, on the Thames.
“We could get the train,” Dee said. “I know there will be some way to get there.”
“My bike’s here,” Regina replied: “And there’s a moped in one of the sheds that Amos won’t mind if I take, seeing as how it’s technically mine.”
“Technically ?”
“Its former owner isn’t with us any longer, and I don’t think the spirit that was possessing its former owner will be coming back for it, given it’s currently stuck inside the steel framing for an underground bunker, somewhere in California.”
Regina made the statement with such calm objectivity that Dee didn’t fancy taking issue with it.
“Won’t we need a licence for a moped ?” Penny asked. “I don’t have one.”
“I’m not sure what the law is - it’s only a small moped - “
“I have a license,” Dee said. “I’ve never used it, but I took the test and all.”
“Looks like we’re cooking with gas then,” Regina replied, and then faced down the strange glances she was given.