The Widow

"The people you love become ghosts inside of you, and like this you keep them alive.”

[adaletneekartal]

pollysheedy​:

.

It has been a while since Polly had seen Adalet - since before their throat had been opened by The Ripper’s blade, before The Frost Fair, before life had gotten more complicated, and then infinitely better. They have thought about her, though, and the kindness that she has shown them. They want to repay it, and now they have the means to. That’s what brought them here today, to Bedford Square, a bag in hand with a dress inside it made just for Adalet. 

They knock the door cheerfully, but unlike their previous visit, no confused housekeeper comes to greet them. They know somebody is in. There’s a candle in one of the upstairs windows, but why nobody is coming, they cannot fathom. For a moment, concern blooms in their chest, and they knock again, more frantically this time. 

The door is open, Adalet’s familiar face appearing in the small crack, and Polly lets out a small sigh of relief. “Oh good, you’re here. Or, a little bit of you, at least.” For a moment, doubt sets in. They wonder if Adalet had seen them, peered out the window and noticed who was coming to visit, and had changed their mind about their offer to visit whenever they wanted. 

“I have something for you. A present. I made it.” They hold up the bad so she can see. “But I’m happy to leave it for you to look at, if you want. I don’t want to intrude, but….” They bite their lip. “Is everything ok? You look - different.” 

.

Adalet studied and studied the face she found on the opposite side of the door. Her heart had been pounding so loudly that her ears had been filled with a roaring, ringing sound that muffled the world around her. It was stifling. But it was Polly. Sweet Polly. It felt like ages since she’d seen them. Some far away memory of tea in the parlor, long before the parlor and the house itself became a thing to fear. 

A strange sensation passed over the woman, and she found herself out on the front stoop, pulling Polly into a tight hug. Her whole body shook from the fear of... of nothing, of ghosts and nonsense that a lady of her age shouldn’t believe in. But her mind and heart still raced about, fueled by the terror that harm might come to her, come to them... come to anyone who found themselves near Adalet. 

“I’m alright-” Too fast, you’re speaking so hurriedly... “I’m... I’m fine, yes, it’s just been a strange few days.” She reluctantly pulled herself away from Polly. Adalet folded her arms tight across her torso, anxious fingers fidgeting with button and lace. “It’s so good to see you, it’s been so long... Would you like to come in?” And pray that He doesn’t come to visit. She added in her mind as the skin on the back of her neck prickled. 

[adaletneekartal]

henry-whittock​:

.

There had been many additional casualties in his life from the loss of his brother and, later in her own way, his sister. The first among them was himself. When he looked in the mirror now, he only saw a man he did not recognize. The shifts in himself had wedged a distance between him and the woman he had once loved that had only left them separated. Adalet was perhaps not as serious a loss, but she was one still. He had tried to keep in touch with his sister’s old friend, but it had become to difficult during the years when she was only a reminder of what he had lost.

Still, he did what he could, to keep a small eye on her. It wasn’t much. Stopping by after the death of her husband despite the rumors that swirled around her. Watching her home for any signs of something wrong. An occasional dinner invitation. It was never much, always less than he knew Eleanore would want of him if he asked her, but he tried, not matter how inconsequential it felt.

He had kept eyes on her home the last few days, especially as the spirit kept him awake all hours of the evening. He had realized earlier in the day that he hadn’t seen her in a bit. He would usually at least catch a glimpse of her every few days as they went about their lives. Maybe it was nothing; they were simply not crossing paths, their schedules not aligning. But something sent him to her door that evening. He knocked gently at first, then a bit harder when not response came, his concern growing.

When the door opened, just a sliver, he did his best to offer a gentle smile. “Ms Kartal. It’s Henry Whittock. I noticed I had not seen you out as of late. I thought it only the neighborly thing to do to assure nothing was amiss.” He paused, taking in the look on her face. “Is everything alright Adalet?” 

.

“Henry...?”

Once upon another time, long before Adalet knew that life often offered more bitter moments than it did sweet, she had known Henry Whittock as a friend. She’d been so close with his older sister before she simply vanished from London society altogether. Henry was a welcome face, if a face that came with a saddened memories. Since Thomas died, he’d made an effort to come around every so often- she had appreciated it. She knew he had the best of intentions... that, and he brought with him a piece of Ada’s past that she had long since lost. It was a comfort, most of the time.

Most days, however, she didn’t have plagues of supernatural concerns.

That day, staring through the crack between the door and the door frame, she couldn’t help but feel scared. It was like the ice that had frozen over the Thames had gotten caught up inside her, and icy dread had become a constant state. A state that company made worse. If he came in, and it upset Him... She tried to brush away the invasive thought. 

Usually the woman would try to paint on a smile and pretend as if nothing too out of the ordinary was wrong. But even there, half hidden in the doorway, she could feel unseen eyes glaring from behind her. “I’m- yes, everything is... I’m alright.” The sentence was miserably strung together as she tried to figure out her excuse. Ill? Tired? Busy? What was believable? Certainly not ‘haunting’. “What are you doing here?”

[adaletneekartal]

Date: 15th January, 1889 Time: Early Evening Location: 40 Bedford Square Status: Open

She didn't know what to make of it... In the days following the start of the new year, it seemed like all of the progress that Adalet Kartal had been making in moving on had simply reversed itself. Once upon a time, she might have been able to convince herself that she was imagining things- that a familiar whisper might have been imagined, that a spectral hand brushing against her skin was explainable- a cobweb, a bit of fabric, a breeze. But dreams and imaginations remained safely separate from reality. Thom had been a dream for a while- a specter that lived in her memories, outside the reach of reality. Adalet had known that, or thought she had on some level.

Logic had dictated that Thomas was dead, and that he could not reach her any longer. Logic would have also dictated that Thomas would never have harmed her in life or death. And yet, Adalet was being tormented by a memory that had somehow made itself tangible in a way it never had before. If it was Thomas who lurked just over her shoulder, whose very presence was firmly made known now in the new year, then it was not her Thomas. Not her husband. Not anymore. 

She’d hardly left home since the haunting- in part because she was scared of seeming absolutely foolish by reasonable friends, and in part because she was scared of what it might do should she be around someone it didn’t happen to like. Even Mrs. Crocombe was kept at a distance as Adalet shrank in on herself more and more. The quiet was safe. If there was no one with her, then there was no one to worry about getting caught up in whatever was going on. Real or imagined. 

So when one evening a loud knocking was heard from the front door, the noise shook Ada to her very core. Rather than logic, fear dragged her mind immediately to the impossible, to the spectral, to Thom. The knocking came again, making the woman flinch. She would prove to herself that it was just her imagination... She wouldn’t live in fear over nothing- She crept towards the door like a child avoiding a monster lurking in the darkness. Step by step, her breath caught inside her chest...

Adalet tried to calm herself down as her hand rested on the doorknob. Don’t be a child, just open the door... Opening a door won’t hurt you. She opened the door just a crack, just enough to see who it was standing outside, praying all the while to find a real person rather than a memory, or worse, nothing.

[adaletneekartal]

SELF PARA - WHAT DREAMS MAY COME

CHAPTER IV - Haunted and Haunting

She’d been sleeping soundly. Sleeping without tossing and turning for the first time in... well, a year. Now when she closed her eyes, all was black. Nightmares hadn’t plagued her, and if she dreamed, the dreams had been peaceful, uneventful. The bags under her eyes had slowly begun to fade. You’re looking well, dear. Mrs. Crocombe had commented at breakfast. Adalet had noted the look of relief that seemed to flicker in the older woman’s eyes. It had seemed that the young widow had taken the message she’d received during the seance all those weeks ago to heart: Move On.

That was, until early in the morning on New Year’s Day. 

It started as innocent as anything. A sweet dream, a remembrance, nothing more. A voice tickling her subconscious as she slept. Familiar enough, though incoherent. The press of a kiss at the corner of her mouth woke her. A sleepy smile drifted across Adalet’s face- a lovely ending to a lovely dream- that’s all the kiss had been, nothing more... But then she felt fingers sliding through her hair.

When Thomas had still been alive, he’d woken her up in such a fashion countless times. A kiss,  fingers combing their way through long tresses. Tender. Gentle.  

Ada would have loved to think she was dreaming. Ada would have loved to think that she had woken up to a world where Thom’s death and the previous year were nothing more than a nightmare that was beginning to fade. But Ada knew his spot on the bed beside her was still cold. And she knew that she wasn’t dreaming anymore...

As she began to gain more clarity, the spectral fingers that had caressed so lovingly suddenly tightened in her hair. Adalet’s heart began to pound in her chest. Not real, not real, not real... She felt as though she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t scream. She wanted desperately to convince herself that it was all just a bit of her imagination, that she was still dreaming. But a sharp, painful yank removed that pleaded fantasy from her mind altogether. 

It- Thomas- whatever it was held her in a vice with no intention of letting go. From deep within her, all the feelings that had begun to fade- the pain, the fear, the distress, all came bubbling and boiling back up to the surface. In life, she had never been afraid of her husband. Not once. But if it was him- if it was his spirit that was tormenting her- then she certainly feared him in death. You are mine, you are mine, you are mine, you are mine... The only thing she could think, the only words she could hear.

And then it was done. 

The hand ripping at her vanished. The feeling of being smothered by a weight that did not exist... gone. 

Adalet jolted up in the bed, a sharp sound of a desperate gasp punctuating the silence that  gripped the house on Bedford Square. Frantic, panicked eyes scanned across the room, looking for him, but the room was empty. The moonlight trickled in the window, casting grim shadows and pools of pitch black all across the room. At the center of a bed far too large for once person sat a woman who seemed far too small. Her arms pulled her knees tight to her chest, her hair tumbled about her shoulders wildly as silent sobs shook her frame. 

The thieves Grief and Death had come a year before to 40 Bedford Square. And they intended on staying.

[aetunion]

at the beginning with @adaletneekartal​ | at the whitechapel station, platform 2 on thursday afternoon, january 03rd.

a stranger is sitting on one of the many benches, eyes trained stubbornly on the train that has arrived a few minutes prior. link glances at her and sees that her hair is a lustrous brown that calls the bronze of statues to mind. it’s a fair match for her warm brown eyes and a narrow face with sharp cheekbones. even sitting, her attire — a uniform of matching jacket and skirt — catches the eye with its dark color. but without the high-collared white of the chemisette, he’d have thought she was in mourning dress. how fitting, he thinks, his smile tinged with cynicism.

london has never felt as bleak and soulless as it has in the past weeks. news of his brother’s sudden death reached him far too late for link to see the point in hastening his journey back to a city that holds more bad than good memories and when he, at last, found solid ground beneath his feet, his chest ached with the same unspoken sorrow as it does now. watching thomas’ widow wait for his arrival makes him feel more of the same, but there are no words to encapsulate the extent of his grief.

he cannot begin to imagine hers.

the puttering of the steam-powered engine makes a rhythmic counterpoint to the loud conversations between friends and partners lingering on the platform. the cries of the personnel overseeing that their schedule isn’t disturbed cuts through the air with formidable steeliness as link’s feet slowly begin taking him to his family’s last lifeline.

“are you adalet kartal?” the name sounds strange rolling off his tongue, as though it doesn’t belong there. a muscle in his jaw twitches as he contemplates what to tell her, his mind going blank the moment she lays eyes on him.

[adaletneekartal]

. She stared at the train, frozen in her place on the little bench on Platform 2, the clouds of her breath mingling with the clouds of smoke from the train. Adalet hadn’t stopped watching since the train had pulled in- and even before that... She knew that somewhere amidst the noise and smoke and bustle there was a man she’d never met and somehow knew for quite some time. The last link to a world she’d lost, without hope to regain. 

Thomas had told her stories of his brother, and with them, she had painted a portrait in her mind. Since she’d realized he was coming to London, she had spent hours re-imagining, re-defining, re-creating the man in her mind. Would he look like Thom? Would he be taller? Shorter? What would he think of her, the widow of his brother? Would he see a stranger, a sister-in-law.... someone to blame? Her gloved fingers wound themselves into knots as she stared and stared, willing the man to arrive.

The American accent made Adalet’s head turn. There was a timbre and tone to it that was similar enough to Thom’s confuse the woman. Her stare switched from the side of the train, up to a man with eyes like her late husband’s. It was jarring. She mentally chided herself for staring, for letting her mouth fall open like a fish as she tried to force words to escape her throat. But they stayed stuck there for a moment, forcing her to stay silent as she traced the similarities and differences in the other Littledale son’s countenance. An earring in one ear, some scars on his cheeks, hair a little too long and unkempt, a different line to his jaw... Not Thomas. Someone else. 

“Yes,” The word finally stumbled off her tongue and she stood to greet him. “You must be Link... I’m happy to finally meet you, though I wish it were under different circumstances..” That is to say, I wish your brother were here to introduce me, I wish your brother were here so you and I would not be staring and wishing to see someone else.

[adaletneekartal]

A lover’s kiss on the corner of your mouth as you sleep. 

  Adoring fingers run through your hair. 

  They tighten. They pull. 

  Does your heart ache, my love? 

  What happens when death does not part? What happens when the spirit lingers? And what when I am not the only one? 

  Things are changing for the both of us. Death rots. It corrupts. So does grief. 

  You are mine.

[adaletneekartal]

inventorlee​:

.

The discomfort caused by such a notion that the Ripper is eager to see his work, his creations is more than apparent. “I know that, but how–” he looks to her a mildly desperate gleam in his eyes, “how would I even know if he came to my shop? What if he has been to my shop? What if I have spoken to him and not realised?” the edge of paranoia couldn’t be helped in his voice, the circle of thoughts drifting around his mind a fearful torrent.

Kai wasn’t certain what he would find if Adalet hadn’t found anything, his eyes tracked the lines of words once and then twice and then a third time. Nothing apparent jumped out at him. “It just sounds like its taunting you. Though the fact he seems to find the notion of these occupations laughable… It would suggest he isn’t any one of them I suppose?” Though that hardly felt like a ground breaking clue all things considered.  

Naturally falling in behind her he followed the route through her home, still he chuckled faintly. “Mrs Crocombe wouldn’t be half so terrifying if I hide her rolling pin,” he joked lightly hardly minding the slight distraction. 

.

There were a lot of ‘what if’s coming into play. What if the Ripper had been to Kai’s shop? What if he’d spoken to him? What if he was familiar to both of them? She could hear the faint edge of anxiety and paranoia creeping into his voice... He’s just as scared as I am... She wanted to tell him that everything would be alright, that they would catch the man responsible, and that Kai would never have to worry about a killer perusing through the inventions at his shop again. But Adalet knew she could offer no such promise.

“Well, don’t let Mrs. Crocombe hear you say that,” The faintest hint of a grin twinkled on her face for a moment before vanishing once more. She could just make out the older woman’s distinct laughter echoing from the kitchen. 

“Taunting, yes,” She huffed as she sat down. “I suppose he thinks that because I’m a lady he can simply toy around with me. But if it is a clue...” Adalet paused a moment, silently mouthing the words she’d stared at for hours once more: doctor... butcher... prince... “If he isn’t any of those, then what does that leave us with? Half of London, I would think... It looks like we have a puzzle to solve, Mr. Lee.” 

[billxbarker]

Closed Starter for : @adaletneekartal​ Location : Adalet’s home

Home visits weren’t usually part of Bill’s job description. No, usually, his constituents came to him with their woes, Bill did what he could to fix them (when it suited him), and that was that. It wasn’t completely out of the norm, but it was unusual enough that he felt a bit strange showing up at Adalet’s doorstep. Or maybe, it was simply because of the potential damage to his reputation if he was seen there. 

The thing was, though, Bill didn’t believe the rumours about the death of her beloved one jot. He knew killers - he was one, after all - and Adalet didn’t fit the profile. If she had done him in, she was a master of concealment, and Bill wanted her on his team. Sadly, he doubted the likelihood of either occurring. 

Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t be useful. 

“Ms Kartal,” his tone was pleasant as he stood to greet her with all the proprietary of a gentleman greeting a lady. “I hope you don’t mind the unexpected intrusion. Unfortunately, I am here on business.”

[adaletneekartal]

Adalet did not know what to make of the situation.

Bill Barker, standing at the door. Pleasant, proper, and on business. Though, as to what the business was and what in the world it had to do with her was beyond the widow. The whole thing caught her by surprise. After the surprise began to fade, she mustered a smile and opened the door a bit wider. “Mr. Barker,” 

“Please come in- I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting anyone... if you’d like tea, you’ll have to wait a moment.” She motioned for the gentleman to enter before closing the door behind him. While her external disposition remained somewhat calm, her mind had already begun to tie itself in knots of confusion. Why in the world...?

She led him into the parlor, catching a glimpse of a very confused Mrs. Crocombe staring her down from the end of the hall with a look that screamed you best tell me what is going on later before the older woman disappeared into the kitchen. Adalet sighed before following Bill into the parlor. 

“So: What is it that I can help you with, Mr Barker?”

[adaletneekartal]

dayanitas​:

.

Daya had been about to rise, to thank Adalet for having her, and to leave. There was clearly little else to say here. Adalet would think and act as she saw fit, Daya would do the same, and those things were simply incompatible. Their view on the world was simply too different, and there was nothing that could be said to salvage any attempt to rectify the situation. Daya wasn’t sure she wanted. 

I have had no one to be ‘real’ to.

With that one confession, it hit Dayanita that maybe there was more that the two women had in common than she first assumed. All of Adalet’s previous politeness had been stripped away, and here was a woman offering Daya nothing but the truth, as raw and unappealing as it was. as much as it seemed that the widow did not want to admit it even to herself. And if she could let enough of her guard down to do that, Daya could give her something in return. “I haven’t either.” 

And there it was - an admission that despite everything, the two of them finally, finally, had stumbled across common ground. “But I am here now. And I am somebody. If you want to be real, you have nothing to lose.” She didn’t know if Adalet would take her up on the offer. She certainly wouldn’t, if the roles were reversed. But with the truth finally being spoken between them, the door that kept them from understanding each other opening just a crack. 

“London will always gossip,” Daya waved a hand dismissively. “Today it is you. Tomorrow it may be me. It is how things go. The truth never is quite as exciting.” 

.

There was a moment where the silence was palpable. It hung in every dark corner, clung to her skin, set her on edge. Adalet had donned her polished, polite mask for months, careful not to let it fall out of position. Careful not to give anyone another reason to despise her, another story to tell. But now, it had fallen. And for Daya of all people. It was a terrible thing to be seen, finally. It was a lonely thing... until

I haven’t either. 

The words broke the silence that had hung over the room, forcing Adalet to stare back at Daya and wonder who was it that she was sitting across from. She knew snippets of the woman. Stories Thom had told her once upon a time. Fragments of moments they had interacted before his death, and the moments that came after. But in that moment, the widow realized she had never really known Daya. She had been a mystery to her that she had never thought to try and solve.

An incredulous laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep inside her before she had a chance to smother it out with her had. There was some piece of her that simply couldn’t believe that this was a conversation that was being had. She could pinch herself- she did. And she didn’t wake up. The words had been real. 

She didn’t know quite what to make of it. 

“They live off gossip and lies. It’s the only thing anyone in this city has to make them feel just a little better than someone else.” Adalet paused a moment. “The day the truth becomes more exciting is the day London falls into the Thames.”

[lucianriviera-deactivated202205]

Tarot for @adaletneekartal

Keep reading

[gvzel]

MELISA  ASLI  PAMUK  via  instagram

[adaletneekartal]

inventorlee​:

.

Perhaps if Kai had not received a letter in the very same script he might have been able to make light of this little correspondence. Unfortunately, as he revealed himself by his own admission the letter he too had received was only further evidence to one of two possible options:

The first, that the killer terrorising these very streets had indeed been busy in his spare time writing messages for the people of London. Fearmongering and further boosting his own renown with this little charade.

The second, that someone had a perverted sense of humour and had decided to make light of recent events and play a prank on the undeserving.

Ultimately it mattered not which it was, both achieved the same end - spreading infamy and terror through the general populous until there was not a soul in London who didn’t know who Jack the Ripper was.

“Yes,” his expression dimmed in apparent uncertainty but Adalet had asked him here to help, keeping things from her would only serve to their respective detriment. “He…” work roughened hands wring themselves tight in apprehension “he isn’t threatening me… He says he’s…” his voice drops, hushed disgust and true fear colouring the final word “eager.” His skin visibly pales at the mere notion of such a thing, that the Ripper was a fan of his and that he was eager to see his macabre machinations made real by Kai’s own hand. “He wants me to craft him a tool to make his business easier.”

“Agree to what?” Kai’s expression seemed perplexed by Adalet’s statement unsure if she referred to the contents of his letter or to the notion of aiding her. “I’m here, I’m hardly about to leave you to try and decipher this yourself.” So he nodded to her proposition of asking Mrs. Crocombe to arrange some food but waved off the carriage “yes please to the food but don’t trouble yourselves about the carriage - I’ll stay as long as it takes us to figure out this clue of yours.”

.

She bit her lip, her brow furrowed deeply as she listened to the man, trying to comprehend the situation they both found themselves in. Both with red letters, both known to a murderer... both with potential clues to a puzzle she didn’t quite understand. Adalet blanched a little at the idea that the killer wished to use Kai’s inventions maliciously. What bothered her more, she found, was how he went pale as he tried to explain it. “Well... we certainly aren’t letting him get his hands on any of your inventions...” Adalet practically whispered, the seriousness of it all stealing away a bit of her voice.  

“I’ve been looking at it for hours, and I’ve found nothing. But maybe a second pair of eyes? Perhaps you’ll bring a bit of luck.” She tried to banish the gloom from the room with a bit of cheer, a feeble smile trying to smooth out the creases of concern that etched their way into the lines of her face. She didn’t want to admit it, but his company would help scare the shadows away. She’d been looking over her shoulder the whole day. Perhaps Kai was exactly what she needed, showing up right on time.

She motioned for him to follow her back into the dining room, glancing up at him as they went. “Kai, don’t be silly, if it’s late when you leave and a killer knows your name and wants something from you, I won’t let you go walking off through the streets on your own... Besides, it won’t only be me you’ll have to fight. Mrs. Crocombe is very scary when she wants to be.”

[adaletneekartal]

xcarringtonxbishopx​:

.

Carrington was privy to all manner of secrets and rumors alike. The confession box was a place for ridding oneself of the burden of sin, be they physical or otherwise, and Carrington was honor-bound not to share anything he was told in confidence. Unlike so many of his brethren, he took his oath seriously. So he listened to Ms. Kartal as he would anyone, with patience and respect, but also with an open mind. Carrington preferred to form his own opinions about people, despite what he may or may not have heard.

And most people, he had found, were neither good nor bad, but a varying mixture of both.

“It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” he agreed quietly. All the horror, the fear, the suspicion, the bloodshed… how could anyone be expected to find hope or goodness in such a time as this? Carrington looked over, his own candle casting flickering shadows across his eyes. “An evil like this-” He gestured vaguely towards the dark street ahead, his eyes remaining on her face. “… it drains us of hope. Drains our will to look for something better for fear of coming face to face with it ourselves. It bleeds us dry, until death is a mercy.” He frowned. “Which is why we mustn’t give up hope. If we do… evil wins.”

They walked on for a bit, passing a few more people, all walking close together in their rings of light. Carrington glanced at her, his own smile a bit warmer now. “Most people don’t,” he told her. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. But… think of it this way: when you come to the end of all the light you know, and it’s time to step into the darkness of the unknown… faith is knowing that one of two things shall happen: either you will be given something solid to stand on…” He looked back to the darkness ahead as the candlelight flickered. “- or you’ll be taught how to fly.”

.

When she had been younger, she’d been full of hope. It was easy to see the world in a rosy light when the nightmares were kept far away from sight. That hope for life had clung to her for so long... and then it shattered. It was like a pebble striking glass- shards falling everywhere, irreparable. The rosy light of youth faded, and the reality of the world came into focus. Lies, death, hurt- they all existed, they never went away.  She looked into the face of the priest and wished for a moment she could be able to see with hope again. She wished to live in a world that wasn’t so sinister, though it was becoming easier and easier to believe that such a world never had and never would exist.

Something akin to a smile flickered across her face for just a moment. Taught to fly... That was a thought. A beautiful thought. Worded in a way that almost felt like a balm for the soul. “You could be a poet, Father.” 

“If you’d be so kind as to share a little bit of that hope, I think the city is running a little short on it, considering recent events.” She didn’t know how if she would ever be able to muster up enough faith or hope to fly, all things considered. She’d felt as if any wings she’d had had been clipped long ago. But at least he had faith. Maybe that would be enough for the rest of the London...

[adaletneekartal]

dayanitas​:

.

Dayanita couldn’t help but roll her eyes. If Adalet had expected a reaction to her words, she received none. That was the thing about Daya - once her friendship was won, a warmer, more protective and thoughtful woman you could never meet. But it was hard-won, and though she was willing to extend a tentative olive branch to Adalet, the reaction to her words - words that had not been intended to offend, but had anyway, though that really was not Daya’s problem - had Dayanita retreating back in the shell that she had claimed as her home, the hard exterior she badly needed to get through the day. 

Daya leaned back, blinking slowly, letting Adalet say all she had to say. “Finished?” she didn’t mean it to be patronising, simply to ask if Adalet had said everything she needed to. “Now, I think this is the first time you have ever shown me something real. Your husband died, and you are asking me how I am? Anybody that nice is either naive, or has something to hide.” She didn’t sugar coat her words. She had been through enough of her life believing pretty lies. Now, Daya fully believed that the ugly truth was far preferable. Hard to hear, perhaps, but in the long run, healthier and kinder to all involved. “If it were me in your shoes, you’d be suspicious, too.” 

She sighed, then. It seemed clear to her that no matter what she said or did, Adalet would misconstrue her meaning. Perhaps they were simply too different to ever see eye to eye. She had been in two minds about coming here tonight - and right now, she was starting to wish she had listened to the part of her that didn’t want to come. 

“With all due respect, I have no loyalty to you.” The harshness of her words were softened, somewhat, by the gentleness in which she spoke them. It was clear Daya was not trying to hurt her further, but neither would she lie, claim to be a support that she wasn’t for the widow. “I am not going to coddle you. We have never been friends, and that is not my job. Neither of us have any obligation to be there for each other. I have apologised for doing you wrong, but I will not apologise for saying what I mean. Nor for the notion that I should have been here, for whatever reason, over the last year.” 

.

It felt as if all the words that had churned deep in her chest came spilling out without anything to stop it up. It was as if a dam had broken in her. And now, staring back at Daya, all Adalet could feel was empty. Cold. She open and closed her hand in her lap, trying to keep it from shaking and to keep more words from creeping out. She blinked as Daya’s Finished permeated the silence that followed Ada’s tidal wave of speech. Compose yourself, Ada... 

Daya spoke practically, logically. And some part of Adalet knew it was true. Why would Daya trust her? Or owe her any sort of niceties or loyalty? It wasn’t as if she had grown being Daya’s friend. The truth, she began to remember, hurt. It was a vicious thing with teeth and claws that stung when they caught up against someone else. Truth could burn worse than any lies. Some piece of her supposed that she had hoped that Daya would have been a friend in the days following her husband’s death, considering their relationship. But Daya had had no responsibility to her, or to Thom. You’ve been a fool, she couldn’t help but think. 

Adalet tried to swallow the lump that had risen in her throat, tried to blink away the burning in her eyes. It simply isn’t worth it... A sharp breath, and looked back up from her lap. “I have had no one to be ‘real’ to, as everyone believed the lie that was sold to them.” Her voice was flat, tired. The niceness, naive or not, had been an armor she had not quite understood herself... until now. If she was kind enough, if she painted a mask of a smile, then maybe she never had to appear the villain that they had made her to be.

“Your apology is acknowledged. And I appreciate it, as I appreciate your unwavering dedication to the truth... With that said, you know the truth now. I’m sorry it isn’t as exciting as the rest of London would have it be. It would make it easier if there was someone to blame, believe me, I know.” 

[adaletneekartal]

theundertakcr​:

“I UNDERSTAND,” REPLIES Rahat, and they do. They say no more on it, knowing all too well the comfort of anonymity and privacy, the necessity for it, and respect her decision. If the lady wants to make an anonymous, nameless donation, then they will accept that without question. They could all use the help, more so in the event that nobody comes forward to properly help identify the body. In their years working as an undertaker, Rahat has had their fair share of unclaimed corpses, people without families to help with arrangements, without loved ones to grieve for them, and they’re hoping, hopeful that this latest victim won’t count as one of those. When Adalet takes the words right out of their mouth, they nod. “I hope so, too.”

As they walk, activity begins to grow around the two of them, and from a distance, Rahat spots an open establishment, light from inside spilling out of the windows and open doors into the street. A few youths step out, dragging each other into groups, perhaps not entirely sober, as they prepare to “search” for the killer. It’s not the best place, not the most peaceful or quiet, but on a night like this, peopled is much better than alone. Rahat turns to Adalet, just as she mentions sending costs her way. “Of course,” they affirm. “Just between us. Mayhap I can contact you within the week, once I’ve acquired the necessary details. By that time, a friend or a member of her family may have already come forward.”

.

Adalet couldn’t help but be grateful for Rahat. In a world where ears that listened and heard what someone said were few and far between, they always seemed to do both with a compassion that was not lost on her. Perhaps London needed more individuals like Rahat. Ahead, clusters of courage-sodden fools stumbled out into the street, all boldness and bravado. They wouldn’t find anything in the evening, though they might make a show of pretending to. A subtle frown set the corner of her mouth downward as she watched from afar. At least the light was warm, welcoming...

“I would appreciate that,” She replied, glancing back towards her companion. “If you’d like, you could come for tea, or send a letter, whatever is most convenient for you. I’m sure you’re very busy...” Adalet paused for a moment before her seriousness softened. “Thank you again for walking with me for a little while.”

[adaletneekartal]

lucianriviera​:

.

One of Lucian’s favourite pastimes while evading overzealous merchants of sausage rolls, apples and flowers was watching the crowds trying to spot the little coat-charmers dotted amongst them. The inattention of London’s busy thousands still managed to feed even those who didn’t make the cut to be selected to run in Lucian’s own crew. They’d find their way eventually - onto something better or to witness the inside of a jail cell. He couldn’t help them all, but he did what he could for those with the knack.

Idly dancing a shilling over his knuckles on the spare hand that wasn’t gripping the basket Lucian whistling a low tune to himself, in the early morning light the coin glittered as it moved, giving his knuckles a silvered glow. He moved easily with the flow of the crowds, going along wherever they took him listening absent-mindedly to the echoes and murmurs of the masses haggling, arguing and debating around him.

He hadn’t intended to bump into someone, let alone had the items he’d been carrying scattered all over the cobbles. Collecting the last of the scattered produce he turned towards the woman he’d bumped into certainly one of the richer folks in these parts from what his initial assessment gleaned for him.

“Oh no–” he allowed a little embarrassment to colour his expression and his tone the picture of an embarrassed middle to upper-classman who hadn’t anticipated such a fiasco in his day “it’s quite alright, I was in a rush and wasn’t looking where I was going…” he sighed a little to himself noting the ruined cabbages getting back to his feet. “You didn’t happen to see where the vegetable salesmen was moved to? He was being ushered out of his usual spot…” he shifted the vegetables under his arm “it’s just I’ll need fresh ones for the children… I can’t be giving them this.”

.

Foolish, stupid girl, walking without watching, head in the clouds... Shame and embarrassment colored her cheeks scarlet as she internally chided herself. The widow could practically hear her mother scolding her like she was a little girl all over again. All that produce, and she’d gone and made him drop it. How much had it cost? How much had she wasted? She looked up at the man as she fumbled about with a few carrots. 

And then he spoke, and her heart dropped. 

Food. For children. And she’d gone and ruined it. 

Somehow, all of this made Adalet feel more monstrous than usual. “I am... so terribly sorry. I believe that they were a few minutes up the street.” She got to her feet, guilt eating at her as she glanced down at the ruined produce in her hands. You can’t just give apologies, Ada, that does nothing for this poor man. 

“This is all my fault- You weren’t expecting a clumsy woman to ruin it all. Please, let me replace it all for you? Fresh, no charge to you. As much as you like and need.. I insist.”  She spoke in hurried, babbled apologies, uncertain of what exactly was right to be doing, but certain that she needed to do something to rectify the situation.

[gwendolynmalvern-archived]

open to : @adaletneekartal

location : Gwendolyn’s shop

time : after hours

Gwendolyn knew to set aside time for Adalet, being as they had to adjust to make up for a lot of old habits. Times where she, being the ever responsible adult that she was, would insist on spoiling her niece rotten with the array of sweets she kept stocked. She still insisted on thinking of her as when they were children. Where Gwen would let the younger girl play doctor with her, even as she started to get more serious in her career. Adalet would be the only one she would let around her when she was studying. She remembered extensively studying the different species of flowers, just so she could rattle off the facts to her niece who was particularly fond of them. It was rather obvious from the time they were young that they would joined at the hip. Gwen would sometimes see her as a younger sister, and not just her niece. But she supposed it was all the same to her. Family was family. In every sense of the word.

So it was safe to say they weren’t really used to having to compartmentalize their relationship. Where they could only limit themselves to the times where the city slept, in the shadows, like criminals. Sinners. Gwen didn’t like even the idea of her niece being treated that way. It wasn’t fair, she thought. She was a good person. A pure soul. And Gwen had seen enough to know when someone wasn’t right, she’d paid her dues with the world and now all she wished to do right by the people she loved. It would be doing them a disservice if she wasn’t the way she was. 

Somehow, she blames herself. For what Adalet was going through. Like she had failed to protect her in some messed up way. She didn’t deserve that. And sure, she was a grown woman now. Life wasn’t always so beautifully romantic. But at least, her life should’ve been. She should’ve had the romance to end all romances. And she had, if only for a moment. A snapshot in time. It didn’t make sense for a person like her, made her wonder. If a person like Adalet could suffer the way she has, then what was left for the rest of them?

She didn’t like to think about it. Even though it was easy to fall into that mindset, the kind where she would spend hours wallowing. Questioning, cursing God because she just couldn’t understand why. She’d moved past that though, it was only through doing could she move on. So she had the shop, and that was where her head had to be. If she had to live with herself for this long, at least she’’d have a distraction.

It was a quarter past midnight, most people had scattered and found their way back into their homes. Which was definitely for the best, these were not the times to be roaming the streets. She felt for the people who had no other choice though. It was the back door, that Gwendolyn kept unlocked for her niece. At this point she’d need to copy a key for her. It wasn’t exactly safe to be doing this any longer.

It was the dead of night when she heard shuffling coming from the backroom.

[adaletneekartal]

Adalet hated sneaking about in the dark for a number of reasons. She wasn’t overly fond of the dark, for a start. The way that shadows clung about things, concealing them in inky blackness, letting things creep up on unsuspecting people. The dark could create things that weren’t there, could trick her... Could make her feel as small as a child, and as lonely as if she were the last one in the universe. If she could have gone through the dark with a light for the rest of her life, she would... even if it did make her seem a bit foolish.

But there were times where the dark was a necessary ally.

Since the rumors had started bubbling up naming Adalet as the responsible party in the unexpected death of her husband, it had made seeing her aunt a rather difficult endeavor. Usually, Ada wouldn’t have given a second thought to wandering into the shop. When she had been younger, she had been practically inseparable from the older woman. Though in title, Gwendolyn was her aunt, Adalet thought of her more as another sister... perhaps a favorite older sister. Not that she would ever tell Ece or Safi that.  But she knew the implications that could be made revolving around her aunt. The last thing Adalet would allow was Gwendolyn’s good name being dragged through the mud for the likes of her.

Much to the dismay of her housekeeper, Adalet had insisted on going to meet Gwen alone. It would be better off, she had insisted. And, for the most part, she had been right. Adalet had moved as quickly as she could through the night-covered streets. Bundled up, head down, moving straight ahead. Carefully, she slipped through the back door of the shop, closing it with a cautious glance behind her. Just in case... 

“Hello?”