#secular missionary

[geraldofallon]

Fallen London through paintings: Secular Missionary

[shadowflameswords-blog]

Eyes of Lost Sky: +2 Watchful, +2 Shadowy, +30 Infuriating. Softens the hearts of the susceptible and soft-headed. Those who see through the wounded damsel act may well want to strangle you, though.

(Her act just gets on my nerves. She overplays it so hard it’s insulting, like she thinks your character has no brain at all. ‘Oooh I’m a sweet and innocent creature look at my sweet and innocent charm.’ ‘don’t you just want to console me because I am Sad and Tragic and All Alone in this Cruel World?’ No. fuck you.)

[geraldofallon]

Romance in the Neath: Secular Missionary

There is power in secrets. Together, you are powerful indeed.

She barely mentions her husband. She recalls the time you spent together. She hopes you’ll meet soon, when her charity work permits. She mentions ‘respect’; she also mentions ‘affection’…

She’s never less than delighted to see you.

[justcoffeenotea]

Ruins and Ruminations

“Let’s go.”

It was only after a few steps that Grey became vastly more aware of the pain in their ankle now that the danger had, for the moment, abated. They grimaced but said nothing of it, doing their damnedest not to limp least the Firebrand take notice. Not now, not when he’d finally stepped up to the occasion enough Grey didn’t worry quite so much about him. If he started fussing about them now they’d never get anything done. From the pain it was likely just sprained not fractured and for it Grey pushed through the throbbing that was setting in. It’d be hell getting those shoes off once swelling set in but there was nothing for it now.

The Firebrand didn’t seem to notice. His attention hyper-focused on the fog around them, ears straining for the smallest noise. He couldn’t hear any more gunshots and it was beginning to look like they really were out of the worst of it. That was until a shape seemed to materialize in the fog and he gasped loudly, scrambling back a step and reaching for... what exactly? A knife? A gun? Grey didn’t know him to carry a weapon though who knew what he kept on his person.

Their fright was very quickly short lived as the man-high shape revealed itself to be a broken pillar. A small number of them in fact in various states of destruction.

“Fourth City ruins...” Grey said quietly, recognizing the rearing horse mosaic on the cracked tile at their feet as easily as the style of the broken pillars. The Firebrand sighed deeply in relief, reaching out a hand to touch a pillar and relax against it a moment. Grey stepped a bit farther into the ruins, spying what may well have been a mausoleum or some other stone work structure the pillars led up to. They were filed so neatly towards it too...

Walking towards it cautiously, Grey snuck closer until they could peer into the gloom of the gaping maw the doorless structure presented them with. Into the dark and directly down the barrel of a shotgun.

It cocked and Grey stumbled backwards, heart in their throat and almost didn’t notice the person on the other end of the firearm. The Secular Missionary, her hair a mess, her dress torn, and the fiercest look of determination on her face looked ready and capable of firing the weapon. She only stopped when she recognized who it was she was pointing her rifle at.

“Jesus in Heaven, that bloody mask!” She cried, looking relieved and annoyed in equal measure. “Thought you were one of those devils!”

The majority of the other workers were behind her, crouching in the gloom, doing their best to keep out of sight. Grey offered a very nervous laugh and a twitchy sort of smile. “Oh, right, the mask...” They had entirely forgotten the coursers took to wearing masks just as they did. Though thankfully Grey lacked the sharp teeth and glowing eyes a devil had; perhaps their saving grace in not being blasted with buckshot right then and there. Trying to catch their breath, Grey counted the workers behind the Missionary and knew the Devils had certainly gotten one of their number.

The Firebrand hurried to the scene when he saw Grey had been in danger but when he saw the Missionary once more the man got some of his excitement back. “Everyone here? Yes? No? Oh...”

“One man took a shot to the back of his head, my dear. There is nothing for it.” The Missionary said as she lowered the shotgun, voice stern as if lecturing a child.

“We can absolutely--”

“No.” Grey interrupted with a frown. “I’m sorry... We have one we need to go back and collect but not a second.”

“You’re mad.” The Missionary claimed, looking between the two of them. “You can’t be serious... My god, you are! We need to get out of here as fast as we can, not worrying about any stragglers who couldn’t be bothered to keep their heads down!”

“Keep your voice down!” Grey hissed, frowning all the more at her. She’d done brilliantly to keep the group together for the most part but between the loudest weapon possible and her indignation it was any wonder devils weren’t descending upon them right then and there. “The first casualty just took a leg wound.” They gestured the way they’d come. “He can’t move as fast but he’s patched up. We just need to collect him about a hundred yards from here as the crow flies. Then we high tail it out of here back to London and instead take to searching the bottoms of liquor bottles, savvy?”

The Secular Missionary begrudgingly complied when she was shown to be outnumbered. The workers wanted to go back for their own and with the Firebrand and Grey’s direction were able to find their companion in quick time.

There were no more devils on the way home though Grey had the haunting suspicion they were being watched. It might have been Paranoia though the back of their mind told them this was the Devil’s hunting ground. It was highly likely they knew full well what was going on therein.

By the time they were safely in the Tomb-Colonist district, Grey’s foot was swollen tight and not even forcing themself to carry on was working. A hansom was hailed, and with the unfortunate business being taken care of by the Missionary, the Firebrand accompanied Grey back to their home. He seemed rather more stern now, chiding them for not mentioning it sooner. “I-I could have made a splint or-or something!” He’d insisted. It got Grey to chuckle to see him reinvigorated with some of his spark at long last. It would be a while before they chanced another expedition but at least for now Grey knew they were in capable hands and little worse for wear all things considered. They were one of the lucky ones after all.

[justcoffeenotea]

It Bodes Poorly...

Leaves and gravel crunched underfoot on the way back to the Forgotten Quarter’s safer districts in what almost looked like a funeral procession. There were boxes in place of caskets, the remnants of supplies the party was able to keep while undertaking this fool’s errand of a mission. No one spoke, no one dared to when things had become so bleak.

Near the head of the group was Grey, looking all the worse for wear with their clothes disheveled from the trek and a scowl set behind their mask. They preoccupied themself scribbling in their journal as they were want to do on occasion and here in the Forgotten Quarter there was very little chance of running into something while part of a group. At least, they’d thought so. While busy writing, they stepped on something half hidden in the faint mists of fog tangling around their ankles. Pausing at once, they looked down from their journal to see... a picnic?

Turnabout was fair play and all but this didn’t look like something February had set up. Why bother after all? They were leaving their quarry to her. Upon bending down to look at the bottle of wine beside a wicker basket revealed Amanita Sherry and beside that a brass signet ring. Devils. Real ones this time. And out here in the Forgotten Quarter that did not bode well at all. A flash of chill ran through Grey’s blood when they realized it too and looked back to the group. “We’ve got to move quicker, gents.” They said to break the silence in a quiet but firm voice. “Now. Devils’ afoot and I’m not keen on getting dragged into their hunting party.”

Nimble fingers as ever, Grey swiped what they could from the spread including the ring-- that was likely to come in handy later on surely. It wasn’t often that one got hold of such particulars of devils after all.

“Devils?” The Firebrand asked nervously, glancing around the rocky outcroppings at once as if he might spot a pair of glowing golden eyes in the gloom.

“Shh!” The Missionary snapped back at him and the hiss of it got the poor man to flinch. He really was quite the sight right then, having lost so much of his fervor.

Grey would have just about sighed at them if they weren’t thoroughly done with the whole ordeal. “No time, let’s hurry! Quickly if you want to keep your skins.” With that the party got a move on and made certain to put as much distance between themself and the merry little picnic the devils had abandoned.

[justcoffeenotea]

September 18th, 1894

Again. AGAIN they beat us to the punch! My only solace is they seem to be making the most dreadful progress in getting into the cave once they’d beaten us to it. If it’s not more stolen supplies it’s the fact that February is breathing down our necks trying to snipe at any chance she has to deter us.

I lost my temper again on this mission though not with the Firebrand but the Missionary. The Firebrand, though I almost hesitate to call him that any more, is a shell of his former self. He seems more lackluster than ever before and seems mired in depression where as his companion has gotten on my last nerve. She insisted on pressing on when we were at a distinct disadvantage and I suggested we take our leave early. That woman tap-danced on my last nerve and I have never shouted so vehemently in my entire life. By her stunned silence there after I am fairly certain she had never been shouted at so either.

Once we are back I am going to find some means of distracting myself from this venture. I am not destitute but I will not partake in this fool’s errand a moment longer when does nothing but hemorrhage funds and secrets. It is cursed I swear!

[surfacestars-blog]

I have 30 Secular Missionaries. Do you have 30 Secular Missionaries? (Now a part of my Mantlepiece)

Victor Gulenko gets all the bitches.