Behold the Machine! [Take Two]

[The Lifted Lorax]

Lola sat curled up by the fire, waiting. The swinging pendulum of the grandfather clock was almost enough to put her to sleep, but she resisted. She had a meeting to get to.

“So you’re off to where again?”

“Doctor Parvonian, Harry. I’ve told you three times already!” Lola answered exasperatedly.

“I thought we said you could tell me when it was one of your girls,” Harry answered blandly. Lola flushed indignantly and sat upright in her chair.

“It’s not one of my girls. I don’t have any girl. You act as if I have a new one every week! I’m appalled, quite frankly.”

“Well, Lola, to be perfectly candid I don’t quite believe you. Don’t get that look with me!” Harry snapped as his wife’s mouth dropped open. “Meeting some doctor I’ve never heard of in the middle of the night—”

“It’s not the middle of the night!”

“—For reasons you won’t explain,” Harry continued as if she’d never spoken. “And you won’t let me nor any other gentleman accompany you. Do you realize how ludicrous this sounds?”

“Which is why you’re going to have to trust me!” Lola stood and took her husband’s hands, pressing her lips to his knuckles before continuing in a calmer tone. “Dr. Parvonian said he could help me and I believe him. It’s only a late dinner, there will be other people there—”

“So he says.” But it was Lola’s turn to avoid acknowledgement.

“—And I shouldn’t be home much later than 10:30 or eleven o’clock. He’s an elderly fellow, perfectly harmless. He says it’s just a bit of physical therapy to help work out the kinks after my…accident.”

Drowning had both physical and psychological effects on Lola, one of them being a loss of breath around anything more than a small basin of water. She'd also been left with a pretty fair muscle problem in her neck from the fall and the struggle against the current. The good Doctor had found her some weeks after her accident and asked her about any…side effects which had been occurring. Of course, she’d denied it all until he started naming some very specific incidents which had indeed happened to her about which no one else had known. After attending several consultation sessions with him—through which Harry had insisted upon sitting right outside the door—he’d invited her to a physical therapy group he ran several evenings a week. She’d accepted, of course, eager to receive proof that others like her existed. But she’d not told anyone about these extraordinary abilities and Harry—who disapproved of the doctor and his whole operation, calling him a witch doctor and a common mountebank who preyed on the fears of young women—was no exception.

Harry…dear Harry. He knew, of course, about Lola’s secret. Not these “side effects,” but her other secret. Her parents called it an “affliction,” and Harry was inclined to agree…but nevertheless, he and Lola had been childhood friends and, having no other attachments at the time, he’d been perfectly happy and willing to enter into a platonic marriage with her for the sake of appearance...for them both. And it had stayed strictly that; platonic. Of course he’d been frustrated when Lola had brought home her “friends”; First the neurotic Rose, then clingy Anne, then timid little Elizabeth. He’d actually quite liked Elizabeth and was sorry to see her and Lola part ways, but he had to agree with his wife. Dear Liz was too timid. What frustrated him about all of it was that those who didn’t know would soon if she kept bringing women into the house at all hours of the day and night, and then…then tongues would wag! They’d be the butt of every joke Society had to offer! After several arguments, she’d become more discreet—as discreet as he. He’d been allowed to carry on his affairs as much as he liked, just as his wife did. It was just harder to catch his eye. Platonic or not, however, Harry still felt the obligation of a husband toward Mrs. Cartwright and he didn’t like this one bit.

“This…Parvonian fellow, we don’t know the first thing about him, Lola! He says he’ll help you, says he’ll put you back to normal, but we don’t know him from Adam! He’s just after your money!”

“He’s not asking for money,” Lola pointed out calmly.

“Yet.” The shining grandfather clock struck the half hour and Lola dropped Mr. Cartwright's hands. “You need thirty minutes to get to Wimpole Street?”

“It’s across town.” Smoothing out her dress (http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=Steampunk%20dress&order=9&offset=144#/d2fma84), she jammed her hat (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YiZ9RS1kuZc/SpusYBewCwI/AAAAAAAAByo/FyR1iZdeOgM/s400/AA_HSVamp.jpg) firmly onto her head and started for the door.

“It’s fifteen minutes by carriage! And I won’t have you walking out alone at night. Say what you like about this doctor, I won’t have it!”

“Haven’t you learned, Harry?” Lola chuckled and smiled, laying a hand on her husband’s cheek. “If I’m not fifteen minutes early, I’m half an hour late. I’ll see you tonight.” The truth, however, was that she was eager to meet these other "patients" and hear the doctor's theories. She pecked him on the cheek and stepped lightly down the stairs toward the handsome waiting for her.

"Have...have a good time," Harry called lamely after her.

Sure enough, at a quarter til eight Lola arrived at the intimidating 27-A Wimpole Street. Thanking the driver and telling him to pick her up at ten-thirty, she took the three steps up to the door and rang the bell firmly. She stood, waiting in the chilly October air for a servant to let her in, her heart pounding in her chest with excitement.

[SlenderJen]

Alexander stood behind the counter of the small shop he worked in with a frown. Not a single customer today, or the day before... His employer would not be pleased, not at all.

Moving to the door, he removed his gloves and slid on his coat, not noticing the man approaching the door. Quickly he slid on his left glove as the door opened, his right hand instinctively reaching to pull the door open all the way. And suddenly, he groaned, feeling the metal slide up to cover his hand and forearm.

"Sir, the store is in the process of closing..." He muttered, sliding his hand into his panta pocket to hide his strange ability.

The man nodded but continued into the door way.

"I'm afraid I am not here to shop. I'm here to ask you some questions...

It seemed so long ago that he'd first met Doctor Parvonian. Of course six months is a long time, but not as much as you'd think. He stood around waiting for the rest of the group he'd spent much time hearing about, the group that had ablilities like him, but none quite like his. Or, so he'd been told. Being the first anywhere always sucked. Fiddling with his gloves, the young German stood, waiting.

[DemonGirl00]

October was such a dreadful time of year, Naomi thought. It was in the middle of autumn, so most of the leaves had fallen off the trees, leaving them barren and ugly. Moreover, it was cold. The redheaded lady pulled her cape over her shoulders, using the fabric to warm her chilled fingers. She hated the cold. This time of year wasn't anywhere near as bad as the dead of winter, to be sure, but it was far too cold for her liking. She let out a heavy sigh. If it weren't for where she was headed now, Naomi would have long since convinced her husband to take her away from London and its awful winters.

While George hadn't been home when she'd left - he'd had a particularly important business deal today that he had already known would keep him late - she had made certain to tell her husband where she would be. To this day, Mr. Raphaelis was wary of this Doctor Parvonian fellow, and he'd made that clear whenever Naomi so much as mentioned the man. Still, no one could deny he'd done her good - the metal brace she wore, now hidden by her bodice, did wonders for her back, which even now, almost four months later, was still just sore enough to cause the lady discomfort. The mental effects of her fall had been lessened as well. For a while, Naomi hadn't dared go near a window, and even the thought of looking down from a great height had been enough to make her faint, but she'd recovered from all that - to an extent, at least. All in all, thanks to Parvonian's efforts Naomi was doing well, and for that much George was grateful, but it would never stop him from worrying about his dear wife whenever she left for her late-night appointments.

Of course, the other side effects of her incident persisted. Mrs. Raphaelis had grown used to her new ability, to be certain, but what to do with them was still a mystery to her. It was the main reason she remained in touch with Dr. Parvonian. He seemed to know more about her newfound power than even herself, even developing a theory or two about how she'd gotten it in the first place. It all made little sense to Naomi, but that was why she was on her way to Wimpole Street now, at the awfully cold evening.

It was right around quarter to eight when Naomi arrived at her destination. She thanked her driver and stepped out of the carriage, and as soon as she did, a heavy chill went up her spine. "Oh, it's too cold to be out here," she muttered to herself as she shuffled up to the door.

When she got there, though, she noticed someone else was already there. A young lady, right about her age, stood at the door. “Oh, good evening,” she greeted, her surprise evident in her voice. Perhaps this young lady was another of Parvonian’s patients – someone with unique abilities like her own. Ah, but she wouldn’t dare ask, as enticing as the idea of others like her sounded.

[Falcon Red]

"Yuh sure yuh don' wanna stick aroun' kid?" The ring leader asked in a strong american accent.

"I'm sure sure, Mr. Canargy. I'm sure it's not goodbye though, just a temporary absence." Adrian responded in a similar accent, though, not as harsh and with a twinge of a southern country added to it.

"Well, yuh always have a home here. Yer a good kid, see yuh 'round."

The ring leader placed his hand on Adrian's shoulder and pulled him into a hug. On top of the prophets that Adrian was making him, Mr. Canargy had always been a sort of uncle to the boy, family. When he pulled away, before he turned to make his leave, Adrian noticed pools in his eyes, as if he were fighting back tears. Adrian stood, concentrating on holding his ground. He had said his farewells to the rest of the circus, even his favorite lion, Santi, who was always affectionate towards the boy, moreso than her own tamer. It was all hard, but the true battle was yet to come, what stood behind the flaps to this tent.

Adrian stepped in and was immediately wrapped in his mothers arms. His father placed his hand on his sons shoulder blade. They hated to see him go, he hated to leave them, but they all agreed it was best. The circus was a simple life, their education was somewhat lacking. Adrian learned basic math from Mr. Canargy, who handled all of the finances and was responsible for paying everyone. His mother and father taught him what they could to read and write, but even they ran away from home at young ages in order to get married, so their education wasn't complete. The opportunity presented to Adrian, to learn better about his ability, also presented hope for a better education and a better life, something his parents wanted for him. He was a skilled performer, and a polite young man, but they had always felt he was meant for more than this.

Even so, it didn't make anything easy for them. The circus life was a close life for this ring. Everyone knew everything about everybody. His best friends had been his parents and Santi who never left his side except during practices, rehearsals and sleep. Word spread quick about his departure, even Santi seemed to understand what was going on, and she didn't inted for him to forget her either. She made sure of it with the bite mark on his forarm. Nothing dangerous, just enough to leave a mark was all, however, he still had to wrap it up and stop some bleeding. Before he left her cage, she pushed her head up against his jaw, licked his face one last time and he knew it was time to leave. She would be fine without him, he talked to Jordan, the tamer, and they agreed she'd keep him posted with where they were and how the lioness was doing, and he'd send gifts and treats to her, with his sent on them so she would know he never forgot her.

After a moment, his mother released him and kissed his cheek. She was still young looking with light dirty blonde hair and pale blue eyes. He looked to his father, his father looked his age, as well as a much older version of Adrian, with some exceptions. His hair was a little more straighter than his sons, face slightly more chiseled, and a broader upper body.

"You have everything you'll need, son?" His father asked.

"Yes, Dad."

"Well... I guess this is it than." His father said again.

At that phrase, Adrian's mother covered his mouth with her hand in attempt to fight back tears. Adrian leaned down and opened his bag. He had spent some of his last pay on gifts for them. Nothing to extravagent, he had bought a little locket for his mother and had put a picture of himself in it on one side, and his father on the other. He presented the box to her and saw her expression drop when she opened it.

"Adrian, you shouldn't have done this... what about..."

"Mom, just take it. I'll be fine. And this is for you, Dad."

Adrian then pulled out a bald eagle statue in mid-swoop. He had always compared his father to as such, and wanted his compliments to be remembered. His father took it and set it down embracing his son.

"Now, I know it's cheesy son, but you were more than a gift to us. We couldn't be prouder, son."

Adrian hugged his father back and felt his own tears start building as he felt his mothers arms join them. They stood there for a moment before Adrian cleared his throat. He held them a second longer, and kissed his mother on the cheek. He picked up his bag and walked to the door. "I love you both, keep in touch." His father nodded as he left out the door. As he walked, he could hear his mothers crying, and it tore at his heart.

------------

When Adrian arrived at 27-A Wimpole, he had to stop a moment. He had never been to a house this large, and it took a moment to take it all in. He felt excitement leap up in him, then looked down at his clothing. Short of his performing clothes, these were the only ones he owned that had no holes, and suddenly, he felt a twinge of embarassment. He wore brown loose pants that stopped about halfway down his calves, black flat, rubber soled, cloth shoes with no laces. He also wore a black shirt that was form-fitting. Technically, it was one of his peforming shirts, but it was so old and really the only clean looking, and un-holed shirt he could find. He also wore his black leather gloves that weren't overly bulky, and kept his dexterity in his hands.

Taking a deep breath, he let his embarassment subside as best he could, and walked towards the door, noticing two young women. "Excuse me," He asked with his slight, american/country accent, "I'm right that this is Dr. Parvonian's house, ain't I?"

[The Imposter]

27-A Wimpole, the decor of the place reminded McShane little of his own estate back in Ireland. No mounted animals heads, skins, or even stuffed trophies instead the home was quite the opposite rigid and mechanic. In truth he wasn't surprised he knew his tastes differed from the good doctors but always found the same thought surfacing when he was visiting. This place never really strikes me as a home...just a house.

His mind quickly went elsewhere as he looked at the others as they had arrived and settled in. One in particular, that being the one who had arrived even before he had. The blacksmith if he recalled from past conversations with Dr. Parvonian. The slightest bit of competitiveness crept from McShane's grin. Truth was Stephen had never met any of the others, he certainly had heard about all them but this would be quite the introduction. Especially with this newest one...Cartwright was it? Speaking of people not yet arrived why wasn't the doctor with them? Instead being entertained by one of the servants.

'When is the rest of this here lot arrivin'? I know you can hear me Doc, and I'm quite anxious to meet everyone.'

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Oh, hello." Lola smiled politely at the woman who had just walked up on the stoop. Clearly another one for the dinner party, and also respectable-looking. She felt she would be comfortable among these people.

No sooner had she thought this, however, than an attractive-looking youth appeared at the bottom of the steps, asking if this were the right house. And an American, too; how dreadful. Lola quickly hid her distaste and smiled politely.

"Well, if it isn't then I'm afraid we're all in error." She laughed nervously before rapping smartly on the door and pulling her coat more tightly around her. Without warning, the door opened.

"Ah! Mr. Donald and Mrs. Raphaelis, how nice to see you." The head of house keeping, one Mrs. Price by name, had only seen these two once or twice before but she had a good memory for names and faces despite her age. "And you must be Mrs. Cartwright, the Master's only seen you at his office. Come in! Come in out of the cold! It's no sort of weather to be standing on the doorstep all night." As if to punctuate her sentence, Lola felt a few drops of rain fall onto her head as they stepped inside where it was warm.

The pleasantly plump, ruddy-complexioned woman took the hats and coats of those who had them as they stepped into the foyer and brought them to the cloakroom. " "The Doctor's a bit preoccupied at the moment," she told them all as she came back, "but he'll be with you shortly. Dinner should be ready in about half an hour. Won't you wait in the parlour?" Smiling, she led them down the hall and through a door on the left, her shoes thudding dully against the carpet, before retreating back to the kitchen.

Meanwhile, one of the servants was serving tea in the parlour. Only two were there so far, Mr. McShane and Mr. Redwood. McShane she knew very well from his frequent visits and Redwood she'd seen only once or twice before. The good doctor brought in many hopefuls, some to his office and some he invited into his house, but only a handful were ever invited to dinner. The servant, a shy Welsh girl named Mary, poured tea for the new arrivals.

"The Doctor's busy, Mr. McShane, but he'll be down for dinner." She smiled politely before retreating to let the new arrivals speak.

Lola stepped shyly into the parlour, jumping aside as Mrs. Price left. She sank onto a couch and looked around. It was a comfortable enough room (http://www.anniewiggins.com/sitebuilder/images/VictorianParlor1-720x483.jpg) indeed, though green had never been Lola's favorite color. What would have been a normal room, however, was interrupted by an unidentified liquid (http://i333.photobucket.com/albums/m400/uglygenius/DSC07338.jpg) bubbling in the corner and several (http://www.geeky-gadgets.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/steampunk-frankenstein-pc-mod_1.jpg) strange contraptions (http://images.search.yahoo.com/images/view;_ylt=A2KJkeuUqRBQWi0ALdeJzbkF;_ylu=X3oDMTBlMT Q4cGxyBHNlYwNzcgRzbGsDaW1n?back=http%3A%2F%2Fimage s.search.yahoo.com%2Fsearch%2Fimages%3Fp%3Dsteampu nk%2Bcontraption%26fr%3Db1ie7%26fr2%3Dpiv-web%26tab%3Dorganic%26ri%3D27&w=660&h=991&imgurl=www.wired.com%2Fimages_blogs%2Funderwire%2F 2009%2F06%2Fnup_134150_0273-contraption-660.jpg&rurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.wired.com%2Funderwire%2F2009 %2F06%2Ffirst-look-steampunk-gadgets-go-wild-in-warehouse-13%2F&size=393+KB&name=A+little+bit+of+X-Files+intrigue%2C+a+little+bit+of+Indiana+Jones-style+supernatural+archaeology+and+a&p=steampunk+contraption&oid=1bf968466ddff3ca5e928ae5c9643c19&fr2=piv-web&fr=b1ie7&tt=A%2Blittle%2Bbit%2Bof%2BX-Files%2Bintrigue%252C%2Ba%2Blittle%2Bbit%2Bof%2BIn diana%2BJones-style%2Bsupernatural%2Barchaeology%2Band%2Ba&b=0&ni=128&no=27&ts=&tab=organic&sigr=12svneocr&sigb=13b859pkp&sigi=12ge32bqn&.crumb=sm6RVckNQZl) whose normal positions, she could see from the imprints int he carpet, were normally positioned approximately where the coffee table was now and had been pushed aside for the occasion. Ticking away on the wall behind her was a strange, faceless clock (http://www.instablogsimages.com/images/2010/05/17/steampunk-clockworks-zeppelin-clock_01_P6OCq_58.jpg). What really drew one's eye, however, was the twisting staircase (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fKXlhnDTeys/SzS2K2t1kEI/AAAAAAAABZk/HJCtO6kC2IE/s640/waterworks.jpg) for which a hole in the ceiling and a good portion of the wall opposite Lola seemed to have been cut out in order to make room. She frowned at this staircase, wondering where it lead. She'd have asked the others under the assumption that most if not all of them had been here before, but it seemed like too much prying too early on in the visit.

[SlenderJen]

Alexander looked around as the others entered and sighed a breath of relief. He hated being alone and Mr. McShane... Well he hadn't been much of one for conversation. Pulling his gloves tight he looked towards the others heading over to Mrs. Raphaelis and Mrs. Cartwright with a respectful smile. In pleasent German he addressed the woman with much respect. "Guten Abend meine Damen." He says with a smile, than corrects himself. "Er-- Good evening Ladies." He smiles. "My apologies, my english is not perfect and I slip into my native tongue much. Its a pleasure to meet you." He says with a smile and small bow.

Stepping away from the ladies he moves to look at the stange things in the good Doctors home, his thoughts darting back to the day he met Doctor Parvonian...

"I heard a young shop keeper working here had a small accident. Would that be you?" Alexander nodded. "Rumor had it he was run out of his home and he ran fron his country." Suddenly frightened, Alexander covered his hand more, and reached for his glove.

"Da... That is I. And who are you, if I may ask?" He looks at him warily, slipping his glove on, the metal gleaming in light.

"I am Doctor Parvonian... And I can help you."

[Enigma]

Mercy swept quickly yet thoroughly, chasing the day's dirt towards the shop's door where, no doubt, it would seek tomorrow to once again attempt at least temporary entry into their little corner shop. The broom looked tiny in her hands - well, her right arm had been liberated from a suit of dusty, forgotten armor, with pistons, tubes, wires and clockwork drives worked in on the surface. It made her look lopsided - but not wearing it was worse, as far as she was concerned.

Opening the door with her good hand, she swept the last of the dirt outside, then firmly shut it to keep it from getting an early start. Fishing out the key from her apron pocket, she locked the door, taking one last look as she turned the sign to declare to the darken street outside that "John McBeals', Locksmiths" was without question closed for the night. Mercy allowed herself to wilt against the door frame, wiping her brow with her good hand before glancing at the shop clock. It was already seven minutes past the hour!

"John!" she called out, darting swiftly to the gas lamps, turning them off. "I've swept and locked up! Do you need anything before I go?"
"Just leave the back door unlocked," her erstwhile boss yelled back faintly from the open door in the back. "I've got a late customer coming!"
"Oh? When did this happen?" she demanded, slipping off her apron and hanging it on the peg in the hall past the door.
"While you were down at the pub getting those pies."
"You and your late customers! I don't know why we bother locking up some nights! Ta, John! I'm off to see the doctor!"
"Ha! You nag me about late customers!" he chortled. "Who sees a doctor this time o' night who ain't in desperate need?"
"Who said I weren't in deperate need?" she grinned, draping her shawl over her shoulders. Something heavy fell upstairs and she could hear John swearing. "For my arm, you twit!"

Rolling her eyes, she swept down the tiny hallway towards the back door and pulled it open. A dark shape loomed on the step and Mercy bit back a scream, her Strong Arm already drawing back to strike.
"Who ar' you?" she demanded.
"I might ask you the same," the woman in the shadows said coldly, stepping forward. "This is the back door of McBeals', is it not? I have an appointment."
Mercy blinked, then let her strong arm relax. Perhaps she shouldn't worry so much about John!
"Well?"
"Well, wot?"
"Are you going to let me in?"
"Yes mum," she winced, pulling the door open so the stranger could step inside. The woman from the veil on the top of her head to tips of her very expensive boots was dressed entirely in black - a wealthy widow in mourning, it looked like. The stranger removed her tiny hat and its veil, placing it most carefully on the thin hall table.
"Did he send you to escort me?"
"No mum, I'm on my way out to see my doctor. You'll find Mr. McBeals at th' top of th' stair."
"Then I shall not keep you."
"Thank you, mum," Mercy said, gritting her teeth as she curtesyed sligthly, then started out the door.
"Wait a moment!" the other woman demanded, surprised. "What's wrong with your arm?"
"Nought, mum!" Mercy declared, pulling the door shut behind her and sprinting through the dark tiny garden towards the back gate. She caught sight of the woman staring from the step as she closed the gate behind her, but she resolutely turned her head and headed towards the street. A footman stood at the mouth of the alley, holding a lantern in his hand. Behind him was a private family carriage, the crest on the door covered by some black cloth. She sniffed and stepped past him, ignoring the looks he gave her as she headed towards the street corner.

"'Ello, Mercy," boomed a cheerful voice. Bob Hopkins the neighborhood peeler was standing there, eying the expensive carriage. "Strange visitors for this street."
"Friend of John's," she shrugged.
"Oh, aye? Headin' home, were you?"
"Not tonight, I'm catching the Thayer Street Omnibus, my doctor wants to see me."
"Oh, aye?" Bob said, a faint note of disappointment in his voice. "I were hopin' to walk you home."
"Perhaps later," Mercy smiled. "I'd welcome a strong man then."
"Haw!" cackled Smiling Jack at the coffee cart, still bustling at his trade. "More like 'e needs you ta see 'im 'ome!"
"Shut it, Jack!" Mercy said, stepping forward, her Strong Arm already clenched in a fist.
"You'll miss yer bus!" Smiling Jack yelped, pointing at the horse team approaching.
"See you later, Bob," she told the constable, then pressed her way through the crowd towards the bus.
"She was gonna thump me," Smiling Jack scowled after her.
"Look like."
"Weren't you going to stop 'er?"
"No."


On Weymouth, seeing her corner come up, Mercy reached over and gently tugged the bell cord, proud she hadn't broken another one. The driver pulled back on the reins, making everyone sway as the omnibus came to a halt. She pushed her way through the crowd.
"'Ere now, mind that arm!" the cheeky conductor yelped, tugging on the bell cord as she stepped down.
"Mind your own!" she snapped back. A few chuckles escaped before the omnibus lurched back into motion.

A clock was chiming the quarter-hour. She glanced carefully down the street and darted across to the corner, being careful to avoid the piles. No street sweepers at this hour! A carriage was pulling away from one of the houses down the street - Dr. Parvonian's, no doubt. She could see light illuminating a few figures on the doorstep. Pulling her shaw tight, she hurried quickly down the street.

She paused at his door, using the gas lamp and her reflection in the glass to check her appearance. She held no illusions about her place in society - mill girls like herself did not normally come in the front door. Satisfied that a few loose strands were now safely tucked back in place, she knocked hesitantly with her good hand and waited. The door swung open after a moment, and the servant nodded in greetings as she stepped inside.
"Miss Smith, good evening. Dr. Parvonian is expecting you."
"And others, I see," Mercy said, blinking in surprise. Who were all these people? Other patients of the doctor?

Past the strange apparatus and the odd smells, her nose caught the faint scent of food. Her stomach rumbled loudly in protest. Mercy's hands clamped over her belly as her face began to burn with embarrassment.
"S...sorry, didn't 'ave my tea," she mumbled.

[GraftRaven]

Right, this one should be Wimpole... and 27-A is down here... Allen thought to himself as he grasped onto the street sign, the metal fittings of his gloves clanking on its surface. Navigating London wasn't exactly easy even if you could see the signs, and he didn't really have that luxury. If he concentrated there might have been a letter or two, but not unless the paint was raised enough. Of course, he would know when he reached the correct house, he found that the doctor and most of his possessions carried a unique quality in their auras. He pulled the thick overcoat tighter around his shoulders, hoping to get there before the chill really set in on him.

And, in a few minutes his hopes were realized as he clambered up the front steps of 27-A, having been able to read quite plainly the numbers above the door. Almost before he knocked the door opened, and before a greeting could be uttered he flung one back. "Good evening Mrs. Price, I see I've found the house again." Allen smiled warmly and stepped in as Mrs. Price moved aside. "Indeed you have, Mr. Faulkner, I'll take your coat and the others are waiting in the parlour. If a blind man can find his way through London I suppose he could remember the way?"

Allen smiled back, "Of course I can, unless it's been moved." As she made for the cloakroom Allen went down the hall, slightly adjusting his blindfold, and turned into the parlour, finding it ablaze with all kinds of new auras. "Hello, hello; I suppose the doctor is busy, is he?" Allen asked the room at large before taking a seat on an empty chair.

[Falcon Red]

Adrian smiled at the confirmation from the women who looked around his age. When the door opened, he was pleased to be further confirmed by the familiar face of Mrs. Price. When she acknowledged them and let them pass, he turned towards her and stated, "Please, call me Adrian. I don't know what to do with all that Mr. Donald stuff."

In truth, this whole scene was not something he was acustomed to. He had just left all he had known, and wasn't sure he was ready to be taken in by all this fancy stuff he was sure to see on the regular. His insecurities were only added upon as he entered the parlour and saw more finely dressed people. He placed his bag in a corner knowing full well that Mrs. Price would pick it up for the coat room, but he prefered to think that he was settling in himself rather than making her put his things away.

The young man took a gander at the room, first to observe the people in the room including the women who had walked in with him and the others who followed after, taking note of one lovely dark-skinned woman with a machine arm, and a blind man, though he didn't think twice about either. The fortune teller at the circus had been blind, and Doll, Santi's tigress friend, had a machine leg due to an unfortunate accident. Feeling a bit out of his league, he walked up to the bubbling green liquid, fascinated by it. He wondered what it could be that the doctor was working on. Finished looking at that, He turned toward the staircase, picturing himself climbing it, several ways that he could do it. It would be so easy. A smile came this his face as he leaned against a side table, putting one arm across his torso, the other overlapping the hand taking hold of his elbow as he imagined different scenarios feeling more at peace with the daydreaming.

[DemonGirl00]

Naomi's mood lifted a little when Mrs. Prince opened the door and greeted the growing group with her kind smile. After shivering for another second, Naomi reciprocated it. "Likewise, Mrs. Prince," she replied as she entered the house. She had only been to Dr. Parvonian's residence twice, and she had only seen this particular part of it once. She recalled the collection of curiosities and strange contraptions around the room, but they were much more amazing once she got to see them in person again.

It was also in this room that Mrs. Raphaelis realized that the group with which she supposed she would be having dinner was larger than she'd anticipated. There were three others with her at the doorstep when she'd arrived, and now there were two others already here - one of whom, Mr. McShane, she recognized from before, but she didn't recall ever speaking to him - and then another two showed up shortly after she'd arrived. After having attended the massive dinner parties with her husband in the past, the party here wasn't of astounding size in her opinion, but it somehow hinted to her that this was no playdate.

She looked around at the other visitors, taking note of their unique features. One man spoke in a heavy German accent - or at least she assumed it was German - and another wore a blindfold. A young woman wore a mechanical arm. While none of these things surprised her, she surmised that they have some interesting stories to tell. More interesting than her own, to be sure.

As she looked about the room, listening as the others attempted to make conversation, she considered joining in, but wasn't sure what to say. She often preferred to listen anyway.

[Fox Xalian]

Natomi had gotten up early that morning as she always did. After having breakfast with her family, at which they discussed Natomi's appoinment today she ran back up to her room and got dressed. She kissed her parents and little brother and sister goodbye and took the carriage to the address. As she walked up to the door she saw everyone was starting to go in. "Oh I do hope I'm not late" she said quietly, hurrying into the building and standing with the others in the room. She looked around, all the faces where familiar, except one. She looked at the new girl and smiled.

[SlenderJen]

Alexander finishes looking at the Odd contraptions, and looks around to see all of the people who had arrived, and was happy to see some familiar faces. None he cared to remember the name of, but... Familiar. He chose a seat close to the fire, his gloved hands aching to stoke the flames and work some metal into its proper shape. But no... That wouldn't happen. Not for a long while, maybe never again.

He sighed, and watched the flickering flames as a small child joined them. She he didn't recognize. Continuing to watch the flames, he waits for dinner, and the Doctor.

[Falcon Red]

The young American took a moment from his thoughts, and looked around the room. He had heard stories of big time parties that the more priveleged. Even if they were just dinner parties. Fine attire, fancy music, talks of society. Nothing of that sort was happening here. The room seemed a bit dead to him to be honest. Some made small talk, but not much happened, the atmosphere seemed lifeless. Adrian's smile turned into a smirk as he glanced around the room. Hoping to help lighten the mood he made note of people's and furniture positions before moving foward head first into a hand stand.

He begand to walk forward into the front of the room, his legs bent keeping his balance as he moved forward on his hands. When he reached the center, he began to steady himself onto one hand, reaching the other out to the side. He held the position a moment hoping he had everyones attention before making a bend in his arm and jumping forward, flipping back onto his feet, as soon as he landed, he didn't give a moment to react, instead he flawlessly jumped backwards into a back hand spring.

When Adrian landed back onto his feet, he still had too much momentum and without a quick thought, he would have ran into the wall, an instant redirection, and he hopped to the side, his torso horizantal to the ground, arms outstretched, and legs split going in front and behind him, catching himself on his lead foot. He brought his back foot down, legs crossed, and spun on them to face the crowd giving a short bow. He didn't give himself a chance to look at their faces. He felt he may have been a bit too forward, but performing was something he loved, and he'd hoped it'd help them break out of their shells at the very least.

Standing up straight again, Adrian spoke in his american accent with a light country twinge, "My name is Adrian Donald, I'm from North Carolina, and it is my pleasure to meet you all today."

[Enigma]

One of the guests got up from his seat and proceeded to jump around the parlor, much to her surprise! He did it with such practiced precision, it had to be something he had done so many times before. Finally, he landed and straightened up, then introduced himself as Adrian Donald from North Carolina.

"A regular stunner!" Mercy beamed, clapping her hands, her fingertips tapping on the edge of her metal hand. "A right slang cove you are! My name's Mercy Smith. Are you from the Colonies?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Good evening," Lola replied with a pleasant smile to the German before settling herself on a couch against the wall.
"Erm...that's what we've been told," she addressed the blind man who'd found his way in rather well. Her grandmother, God rest her soul, had gone blind from cataracts before she died but Lola had never known anyone who was actually missing their eyes.

She was very surprised when a child walked in, smiling at her in what was a rather bold manner, and a dark woman of all people! The mechanical arm was cause enough to stare, but Lola had never seen a woman of her color and station in a parlor like this without wearing a maid's uniform. She wondered how the woman got by day-to-day without constant harassment. Rain began tapping harder at the window as the American from the stoop stepped into the middle of the room. Her mouth dropped open as he performed several acrobatics in a row, which there hardly seemed room for in the parlor.

"I'm...Mrs. Cartwright..." Lola said slowly after he introduced himself. "Er...Lola Cartwright. And...yes, Miss, North Carolina does happen to be in America. The East Coast, isn't it?" She had gradually recovered from the surprise enough to also recover her manners. "I've never been but I hear it's beautiful."

[The Imposter]

It seemed to McShane that everyone had arrived now, with the grand entrance of Mrs. Cartwright concluding everyone's arrival. It wasn't long after that that the American had began twisting, turning, and jumping about. The whole event only reminded the old hunter that this wasn't a typical meeting, or group even. He had thought back to times in his own home having grand parties to showcase what he had got on his last hunt. He could have lost himself in the thoughts of moments past but composed himself and spoke.

'Well you are quite the spry fellow aren't ya? It must take a lot of practice to be able to pull off those fanciful jumps, perhaps if I was younger....hohoho. And who is it we have here? Mrs. Cartwright welcome to the group, it is a pleasure to meet a fine young lass like yourself. OH! I almost forgot to introduce myself, I'm Stephen McShane, and yes Stephen isn't much of an Irish name but my dear mother wouldn't have had it any other way.'

McShane chuckled and extended his hand to greet her, he could only imagine how awestruck being brought into such a group so quickly might be. Whispering to her he assured her that he wouldn't do anything quite as extravagant as the young circus performer.

[SlenderJen]

Alexander blinks as the American does his tricks. He smiles and claps, a small smile forming on his face. "Das war fantastisch! Good job!" He turns back to the fire after that, fading back into the background into the room. He was glad to see he was not the only foreigner, but was also saddened, because his English was still so-so, and he often slipped into his native tongue. Upon hearing the mans introduction, he looked over to him again. "Good to meet you, Adrian." He said, zoning out as everyone seemingly resumed speaking.

[Falcon Red]

Adrian was pleased to see a few from the crowd join him at the front of the room after his display. He grinned at the excited Mercy, but was spared the breath by Mrs. Cartwright. In response to her, he answered. "Yes ma'am, right above South Carolina, just under Virginia. Lovely little area, someone could get lost in the very trees that cover the area." Talking about his home gave a bit of a jolt in his voice.

It was then that Stephen walked over, a hunter by the looks. "Thank you sir, most of it comes from my mom and dad, but a bit of it I learned the same way as you, from watching the wildlife." He answered and turned to the german boy and waited a moment in thought to speak. "Danke, mein deutsch ist nicht sehr gut." He spoke in a rought form of german. He waited a moment again to speak, but couldn't remember much of the language. "It's my pleasure to meet you too, sir." He had hoped his german would have made the boy feel more comfortable, even if it was only a seed that was planted.

Not wishing to seem rude, he turned back to Mercy. "My apologies Miss Smith, it's my pleasure to make your aquaintance. How did a lovely lady like you make it out this way?" Adrian asked.

[Enigma]

"My apologies Miss Smith, it's my pleasure to make your aquaintance. How did a lovely lady like you make it out this way?" Adrian asked.
"Oh, I rode the omnibus," Mercy smiled, a little confused by his question.

Her stomach gave a little rumble. Cheeks burning, she pressed on it with her hands.

"Sorry about that," Mercy apologized. "Have you seen Doctor Parvonian yet?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

Lola couldn't help but giggle a little at the German's reaction. He was adorable and seemed friendly enough. It was only now she was kicking herself for not having paid more attention to her German lessons as a child; she'd have liked to make him feel a bit more at ease since he didn't seem to have a very wide base in English. What he'd said so far she could understand, the simple phrases, but she highly doubted she could actually produce any tolerable German and so wouldn't try for fear of offending him with the butchering of a beautiful language by a clumsy English tongue. It was then that Stephen McShane introduced himself; she was glad for the distraction. She hated feeling awkward among new people.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. McShane," she smiled pleasantly, shaking hands but keeping one ear idly on other conversations. "Thank you for the reassurances," Lola said back in a hushed tone. "I'm rather new to...well...the things Doctor Parvonian studies. I admit it's more than a little intimidating, being around such an...eclectic group." She threw a glance over to Adrian and the dark girl who had introduced herself as Mercy.

She wasn't prejudiced against either of them, to be sure. Well...maybe a little toward the American, having generally found Americans in the past course and rude. But she was willing to give both of them a chance. She just wasn't used to being among their kind was all, and wasn't sure how to act around them. Her gaze slid, too, over to the blind man who had followed behind her when she'd first entered.

As if in answer to Mercy's question directly, a gong from the kitchen sounded and Mrs. Price appeared in the doorway.

"Dinner is served," she announced in a very formal manner. "If you will all please follow me, Doctor Parvonian will be down in a few moments to join you." She turned on her heel and strode briskly out again.

[SlenderJen]

Hearing the word dinner, Alexander stood and headed for the dining room. Food was something good, something no matter the country would always be good. He sighed a sigh of relief hoping the meal would ease his awkwardness. And, he'd hope to show his power. Well if the silverware was silver. Or atleast a majority silver. He than smiled. Even if it wasn't, he'd get to feel it again. Metal, the cool smooth feel, the thing he'd lived his life forging. Plus, he'd get to eat at the same. It was a win-win situation.

Moving quickly, he selected a seat close to the end of the table, not on the end but near it so he could be alone and with the others at the same time.

[Enigma]

Others were moving into the dining room. Mercy closed her eyes and sighed, then turned towards Adrian.

"I'm sorry to ask this, but I can't wear my Strong Arm at the table. Could you help me take it off?" she asked. "It's very quick, I just need to take off this vest but I need someone to hold onto the arm so it don't drop."

As she undid the buckles, she could feel her cheeks burning, knowing everyone was watching...! Finally the last buckle was unfastened and she felt the arm sag a little. With her good hand, she caught the wrist of her Strong Arm.

"Just over there in that chair! That'll be just fine!" she told Adrian. Already she could feel air circulating around her tiny bandage-wrapped stump and middle.

Once her metal arm was safely taken care of, she ignored the looks at her stump and crossed onto the opposite side of the table, resting her good hand on the back of a chair near the kitchen entrance.

"Mrs. Price, do you need any help?" Mercy asked, defying anyone to bring up her missing arm.

[Falcon Red]

Adrian smiled and took hold of her metal arm, catching it as it dropped. Once it was fully off, he put the heavy arm over his shoulder and crossed the room to set it in the chair that Mercy pointed out. He walked over to where Mercy had moved to and placed a gloved hand on the darker woman's shoulder. He had been around many different people, different races, and was glad to know that he could read their expressions fairly well.

"Don't be ashamed of who you are, miss. I know this tigress, beautiful, fierce creature. Powerful, mighty, ferocious, and loving. You would never know she were missing a leg by the way she acts. Sometimes I don't think she even realizes it." Adrian smirked at the thought, losing himself in it for a moment. "Let the spirit of a tiger course through you, be proud of all that you are and all that you can do."

With that, he crossed the threshold, into the dining room, spotting Alexander on the far end of the table. Adrian made his way over, and sat right next to the german. "Do you mind if I sit here?... er... Alexander wasn't it?"

[GraftRaven]

Allen had been about to introduce himself when dinner was announced. So instead he lifted himself from the chair and started following the procession of people heading towards the dining room. As he left he caught the tail end of Adrian's speech to Mercy. Allen rather admired her independence and individuality, but he also saw the embarrassment painted in her outline.

As he passed the pair Allen felt compared to add his two cents. "Aye, lass, the hunter is right. You're certainly not as bad off as myself." His tone did not ask for pity but exuded a light humor instead, and he grinned as he stepped into the dining room and moved along the table, using the backs of chairs to keep measure. Allen picked the spot across from Adrian. "Evening, gentlemen." He said as he took his seat, almost catching a foot on the leg of the chair.

[SlenderJen]

Alexander smiles at Adrian and motions to the seat. "It's your's sir, as I do not see anyone else in place." His face got a puzzled look, as if he thought he misspoke. He shook his head and smiled. "Da, my name is Alexander, but you can just call me Xander. That is what I'd prefer, anyways.." He looks around the room silently as more people enter, and across the table at Allen, than just around in general once again. It was his first real dinner with the group. Some face's were new, others old. None did he know by name, just yet anyways.

[Potatrobot]

"Not again..."
Michael Victor was always late. Well, that's a lie. He was always late when it mattered. This time, he felt he had a reason rather than an excuse. He had spent the past hour looking for an open shop that would sell him something decent to wear for the dinner at Dr. Parvonian's house. Why only the past hour? Work finished at half nine. Why only today? He still needed an excuse for that.

He ran up Wimpole street, trying not to collect the thick raindrops with his head, and searching desperately for the street number that would betray his destination. Even then, there was nothing preventing the October rain from pelting his new olive green waistcoat and trousers; they were slowly becoming darker from the aqueous burden.

A tiny flash of dull light pervaded his left eye, drawing his attention to a reflective object to his left. It was the street number for the house currently beside him, and it had caught the light of a street lamp on the opposite side of the road. It was fortunate that it did, for it read 27-A.

He took the steps two at a time andtook shelter under the awning above the front door. He smoothed out his apparel and ran his fingers through his hair, before knocking on the door.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Oh no dear, that's quite alright. You're a guest, now sit," Mrs. Price answered, bustling two and fro with the two other maids.

Dish after dish was brought out. Shepherd's pie, lamb, salad, green beans, radishes. Roast potatoes, trout, and bread rolls were brought out last, and all in all it was a lovely spread. Lola was mightily impressed; the Doctor didn't seem one to stand on ceremony with a formal five course meal, but it looked like a holiday feast. He was not a poor man, by any means. Everything was steaming hot and the smell was mouth-watering, but the seat at the head of the table was still empty; their host was yet to be seen.

Lola noted the challenge which had been apparent in Mercy's voice and didn't make eye contact. Though she would never admit it to anyone, the coarse woman intimidated her with her projected confidence and strangeness. At the same time, she was embarrassed on behalf of the poor girl for what she must have to go through every day. And what she'd faced just then.

"You're very brave," she agreed softly, trying not to stare and opting instead to not look at all. The men had been giving her plenty of encouragement and Lola highly doubted Mercy had wanted to draw any more attention to herself than that.

Tucking her skirts underneath her, she took a place across from the German, Alexander if she remembered correctly, and next to the blind man. Between him and the woman, she wasn't sure who she felt less comfortable around, terrified of offending by accidentally staring too long or saying something insensitive without thinking. She was starting by not being anti-social, or at least trying not to be.

"So..." she said at length after clearing her throat, "what does everyone do?" Work was always a safe place to start. Nearly everyone worked.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Price's heels thudded down the carpeted hallway to answer a knock on the door. She opened it with a smile, but her expression quickly fell into dismay. Not dismay at the person, but at his situation. Her smile recovered, a gentle one this time, and she stood aside.

"Please come in, Mr. Victor. I'll set your coat by the fire." She peeled his forlorn-looking coat off of his shoulders and held it at arms length. "The others are in the dining room. I trust you know the way?" She ducked into the parlor quickly to hang his coat by the fire before returning quickly to the hallway.

[The Imposter]

McShane had followed the others into the dining area without saying anything. Conversation had picked up with all the other guests so he instead stayed back and listened. As they all begun to take seats Stephen couldn't help but see that most of the men sat first. Was there not a gentleman in the whole lot other than himself. He was unable to pull out a chair for Mrs. Cartwright but was able to pull one out for the lass Mercy before speaking lowly at the table.

'Aye, you men forgot your manners at the door? Here you go Miss.'

He proceeded and took the other seat beside the blind man. He didn't recall him introducing himself yet. The table was beautifully laid out, and the aromas were terribly appealing. As the group awaited the good doctor's descent Lola asked the group about work.

'Oi, I hunt...mostly exotic animals. I don't quite think its proper to speak about much of the finer points at the dinner table though. What about the rest o' you lot?'

[Falcon Red]

Before Adrian could respond, the blind man sat across from him, responded with a "good evening" in return, and nodded to Mrs. Cartwright. When the hunter came out, and made a note on their manners, Adrian couldn't help but feel a tad embarassed. He had never grown up with the same manners as the hunter he supposed. In the circus, they all sat together in merriment, there wasn't much ritual to it.

Face growing slightly hot from the occurence, he started fiddling with the napkin in front of him, as the food was brought out. At first, he didn't take notice, but as it kept coming, his eyes lit up. Never had he seen so much food, and such fancy dishes. He suddenly felt out of place again, but was snapped out of it once again as McShane spoke up again, telling about his profession.

He let his embarassment subside again, and spoke up to answer both Mrs. Cartwright, and McShane. "I was in the circus. We had our last show earlier today, and they're heading out again right now. I'm an acrobat though, an entertainer."

[Enigma]

Mercy started with surprise when McShane spoke, then saw he'd pulled out a chair for her.

"Thank you," she said softly, sitting down at the magnificent table.

"I used to work at a mill in Harrogate, before...." she admitted, trailing off. Mercy looked down. "Now I'm a shop clerk for a locksmith."

[The Lifted Lorax]

"An entertainer? How very interesting a life you must lead, Mr. Donald." Lola was suddenly very aware that most of her company were laypeople, the woman included. She was rather embarrassed that she herself didn't have an occupation, but she tried not to let her discomfort show. "My husband is a banker," she put in quietly, hoping it wouldn't be noticed that she herself didn't have a trade, "but you...well you all seem to lead such interesting lives!"

[Potatrobot]

"Oh, thank you," Michael sighed as Mrs. Price took his waistcoat from him and promised to set it by the fire. Judging by the sheer warmth of the room, it was a big fire; he'd dry off in no time at all.

Many voices echoed from another room. Michael's guess was that the rest of Dr. Parvonian's guests had congregated in one room, and a mouth watering aroma on the air caused him to refine his guess: they were in the dining room. He was late for dinner.
"Blast..." he muttered, hoping not to offend Mrs. Price; he wasn't familiar with the expletive threshold that the upper class adhered to, so he just left it at 'blast'. He lingered motionlessly in the heat for a while longer, before starting towards the sound of voices. The good doctor always made jokes about his lateness, so maybe he would have a good-hearted reception. If not, he would have to improvise something that would excuse his inability to arrive on time.

He glided to one side of the door frame and peered into the dining room with one eye. Five were seated so far, and others were taking their place. Perhaps nobody would notice his tardy if he moved with the crowd. He stepped out from his hiding spot and walked as casually as he could to the table. He tried not to look to hard at the other gifted ones present; they could notice his gaze and look right back. He had to keep unnoticed until he sat down. Then he'd be in the clear.

He sat down next to Adrian. If the boy was upper class, he didn't look like it, so he probably wouldn't see Michael's lateness as such a crime as he himself did.

[SlenderJen]

Alexander looked to the man who had just arrived and smiled at him pleasantly. "Running a bit late, da?" He chuckled and looked over the man, locking eyes with him for a moment. "Isn't that bad for someone like you?" He asked, his appearance making him seem at the same social level as some of the women around.
(I refuse to watch this die! >:D)