#detectiveconstablealbertflight

[frankgoodnight]

new followers

Huh. Which woodwork did all of y’crawl from?

[livinganomalously]

closed starter- detectiveconstablealbertflight (ripper street AU type thing)

Antonia was, in short, an exceptional individual. She was like no other young woman in Victorian London, furiously independent with an incredible intellect, misanthropic to the highest degree, and certainly not afraid to speak her mind, regardless of to whom her words might possibly be directed. Although she would frankly vastly prefer to wear trousers and shirts, it was too soon for even her to attempt that in public, but she did still dress slightly unconventionally, choosing to wear a long cloak with a hood, and often wearing her hair down. Loose hair was generally considered a symbol of a 'fallen woman', unchaste, and morally depraved. However she was none of those things, which was partly why she wore it loose, to rebel, defy the conventions that she saw as vastly unintelligent. However currently, her hair was up, as much as she wanted the freedom to dress as she pleased, she knew it unwise to do so to such a degree when walking alone at night in London. Her hood was up too, she'd perfected the art of going unnoticed in public, because she knew few people truly looked at things, it was easy to slip through the streets undisturbed.

[detectiveconstablealbertflight]

[mrsbennetdrake]

"Mrs Drake~" Flight greeted with a tilt of his hat. "I must thank you for treating my wound.." He thanked in his Irish voice as he ran his fingertips across the now red mark.

"Not a problem, Detective. Like I said that night, you’re a tough one. Don’t reckon it’s impeded you in any way." she smiled politely, tipping her head. "I hope work at the station’s treating you better now."

[detectiveconstablealbertflight]

Not a task for a boy

Flight held the billyclub in a hand, his arm by his side. He had personally chosen to do the job of patrolling the streets of Whitechapel. However, Reid hadn't exactly mentioned the fact he was to do it without the Sergeant or another copper and at dusk. A better chance to prove myself, Flight figured as Reid set the task. 

Reid was obviously probing over his worry that the job wasn't a task for a boy. But as no one else had volunteered and Arthurton had put in a good word. Jackson had just given him that look that meant 'You aren't gonna survive the night, fella'. And Flight just cocked an eyebrow then lit a cigarette.

Flight was indeed determined to prove them wrong. To prove that he wasn't a boy. But he had taken a wrong turn down a street filled with Whitechapel thugs. He hid the billyclub beneath his jacket to avoid looking like the police, titled his hat to cover his eyes and continued on and hopefully away from the disgusting place in which he had entered.