(Untitled)

[judgetightpants]

A man has entered the Nexus, barely seeing it. He is dressed, as some might recognize, in the manner of a Victorian gentleman of good standing. He paces, he fumes, he seethes, and at length a cry of frustration tears itself from his lips. "Damn it all, how am I to direct order out of madness and specious rumor

Comments

[impalaman]

Dean blinks and doesn't get the question. Something about direct ordering something.

"I dunno, have you tried credit cards? paypal?"

((The player gets it, Dean doesn't. hehe))

[judgetightpants]

The judge looks up, surprised, to find his surroundings not what he expected and this barely-dressed stranger accosting him in what should be the privacy of his chambers. Drawing himself up with an expression of indignation, he levels his most commanding glare at the hapless Dean. "Who are you, sir, and what nonsense are you speaking? Explain yourself at once."

[impalaman]

Dean straightened up to his full height, which.. really wasn't all that tall especially compared to his brother but he's not easily intimidated.

"Dean since you asked so politely." he smirked. "And you asked something about direct ordering something, I assume from a website or something. I was just giving you options."

[judgetightpants]

"Bah!" he barks, gesturing menacingly with his cane, "drunken whelp of an Irish dog, be off with you!"

[vicioussweetie]

"It has been said," comes the slow reply of a wary-eyed young woman, "that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

[judgetightpants]

"Eh?" He turns, giving an appreciative leer when he sees the redhead. Her hair may speak of mongrel Irish blood somewhere up the line, but he's not much interested in what lies above the shoulders. And the directness of her reply momentarily shakes him from his own values of condescension. "None of this is possible. Bedlam, burned to the ground? Constables, assaulted in the streets? It makes no sense!"

[vicioussweetie]

Her skin crawls when he looks at her like that, and it takes a considerable effort of will to not smack that look right off his face.

"Sense has little to do with the human condition, my lord."

[judgetightpants]

Ah, she appreciates the attention of a gentleman of good standing. He favors her with a smile, and a lift of the brow, an unspoken proposition. "Am I to believe the accounts of rabble in the street, over men well known to me? Even those are hardly to be believed, and drink is as common as rainwater in the gutter."

[fleet_st_demon]

To say that he was shocked to see Judge Turpin would be a terrible understatement. He froze, stared, and then shook himself out of his stupor and reached for the razor at his side... The razor that wasn't there, the razor that he'd left back at the shop, because he wouldn't need to carry it in the Nexus.

Another circuit of his brain kicked in and reminded him that the AV field would keep him from doing anything anyway. His hand flexes, and he reminds himself that he ought to just walk past, that he's going to the market and he doesn't want any trouble...

But Chester senses his master's unease and whines, pulling at the leash, trying to be a Good Dog and protect Sweeney. There's nothing to do but confront Turpin now. He's bound to have noticed.

[judgetightpants]

The judge, really, is gaping around him and trying to find something in his Victorian mindset to explain what he's seeing. A dream, perhaps, or some hallucination brought on by stress. Surely, this can't be real.

[fleet_st_demon]

Sweeney takes advantage of Turpin's confusion, ducking his head to avoid letting the judge get a glimpse of his face. "Something troubling you, your honour?"

[judgetightpants]

Finally, the respect he deserves. What is this mad place? "I seem... to have taken a wrong turn, somewhere. Mislaid the courthouse." He frowns sternly at his surroundings, which stubbornly refuse to be his chambers.

[in_jubilation]

"You don't."

[judgetightpants]

"What do you mean, I--" He gets a look at her, then, and, already angry at being contradicted, an outburst is forthcoming; "brazen harlot, cover yourself! Even the whores on the docks have some withered sense of modesty."

[in_jubilation]

"I am not a harlot." Jubilee says with a careful, but angry tone. "And you have no command here."

[judgetightpants]

"You've nothing approaching decency, child, tramping about all unclothed."

[scrapsplz]

"There must needs be at least a grain of truth even in madness and rumor, must there not?"

The man speaking is, as the icon would imply, wearing a very nice suit of armor, complete with helmet - the latter imparting a rather boomy echo-y tone to his voice.

[judgetightpants]

"Hmph. So I have always held, but this... this mess confounds me. Assault and arson, without rhyme nor reason."

[scrapsplz]

"There is bound to be a reason. Even should it seem the events are little more than chaos, there will no doubt have been someone to cause them." Or someones, but that's besides the point.

[judgetightpants]

"There is a cause, certainly, but reason has done naught to unravel this."