Categories > Original > Fantasy > 131 Night End
"Murder and Midnight Mayhem in Mudtown!"
0 reviewsKaylee has a bad morning, but manages to tie up one loose end.
0Unrated
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Kaylee woke up at nine thirty-one at the sound of a newspaper hitting the doorway two floors below her. She slid out of bed and waded across her clothes-strewn bedroom and out the door. “Alvin?” she called as she opened the door. She had a vague feeling he was gone somewhere, but she couldn’t say why, or where he might be. Perhaps he was in one of the rooms that locked from the inside, pacing and muttering and deaf to anything that was said outside his head.
Or maybe he’d gone to see his foreign girl.
Kaylee’s stomach turned. Oh, right, of course he would, just to gall her. What a brat. She always worked so hard to keep her name out of the dirt, to keep herself out of scandal and out of the sensationalist claptrap like the Daily Prophet, and it was too easy to get noticed in this day and age for doing the wrong things. But Alvin didn’t care. Alvin didn’t care at all, and he thought it was all well and good to be seen gallivanting who-knows-where with God-knows-who and nothing bad could ever come of that, now could it?
Kaylee stormed down the hallway, taking care to not mutter under her breath and settling for grinding her teeth instead. She managed to fume all the way down the spiral staircase to get the paper, and when she picked up The Pseudopolis Herald she stopped raging. The Pseudopolis Herald never printed a word of a lie, after all. So who was she to argue with the front page news?
MURDER AND MIDNIGHT MAYHEM IN MUDTOWN!
Kaylee ripped open the paper, heart beating quickly.
Early this morning, a murder was reported on Drury Lane in Scab’s End. Anybody familiar with Rotterfeldt is also a bit too familiar with the decay and urban rot of Scab’s End.
Oh, typical, typical, more chin music, blah blah blah! Kaylee scanned the article, until her eyes alighted on one particular sentence.
Our inside source, Sherlock Holmes, managed to clear a few things up for us. “Well, the suspect has yet to be identified, but this ‘Jack’, so called, is probably a six-foot three white male.” No comment was available from Commissioner Irene Adler at this time. This Jack the Ripper seems to be running lose in the streets...
Kaylee exhaled hard, and sucked in air through her teeth, not even bothering to finish the sentence. Panting with rage, Kaylee tore the front page off the newspaper, crumpling it beyond repair. This was supposed to be her moment! Her’s and Alvin’s! And this cad, no, this fraud thought he could just steal it away from her? It was monsters, not a person! How could anyone be so dense?!
“I deserve this! I have worked too hard to lose it to you!” Kaylee hissed at the newspaper. The newspaper didn’t respond and did not take Kaylee’s criticisms to heart.
Kaylee slammed the door, and strode over to the phone. The Hall of Justice’s Library always seemed to let her through.
“Constantine!” she barked.
“Sun well to you too, little sister.”
“Did you see the paper?” she hissed, twirling the phone cord around her finger.
“Did I ever! Can you imagine? A murderer, Kaylee! Is that who you were chasing last night? Oh, it’s too grand! Wonderful old time, my dear! I even got a special request for the Second Star party to boot! It was from Xavier in Filing, funny that he's got connections!” Constantine rambled happily. Kaylee’s memory snapped on the piece of information. “Second Star?” she repeated.
“Yessiree, it’s a gin joint. But you wouldn’t be interested, would you?”
“As a matter of fact, Con, I’m all atwitter,” responded Kaylee, a plan forming.
There was an incredulous noise from Constantine. “What? My girl, that’s fill. Just because I’m invited doesn’t mean I’m going.”
“What? Connie, please! You have to!” Kaylee wailed. She had to go. That writing on the wall, that hint when she was looking, it had to mean something! And now was her chance, and stupid Constantine was ruining everything!
“No how, kid. I’m not going down that route again.”
“Con, please?” Kaylee begged.
“Kaylee! I! Can’t! I don’t want to go back. I can’t go back, okay!? Why the hell don’t you get that?” Constantine snarled. A bright pop of static burst in Kaylee’s ear. The line went silent.
“
Sorry, Connie. Shouldn’t have pushed you,” Kaylee whispered, cradling the phone between her face and shoulder. Constantine didn’t say anything, but Kaylee could hear him breathing. “You can have the invite if you want. Just don’t expect me to go with you,” Constantine said after a while. “It’s got everything you could possibly need on it, so be a big girl and go by your lonesome.”
Kaylee woke up at nine thirty-one at the sound of a newspaper hitting the doorway two floors below her. She slid out of bed and waded across her clothes-strewn bedroom and out the door. “Alvin?” she called as she opened the door. She had a vague feeling he was gone somewhere, but she couldn’t say why, or where he might be. Perhaps he was in one of the rooms that locked from the inside, pacing and muttering and deaf to anything that was said outside his head.
Or maybe he’d gone to see his foreign girl.
Kaylee’s stomach turned. Oh, right, of course he would, just to gall her. What a brat. She always worked so hard to keep her name out of the dirt, to keep herself out of scandal and out of the sensationalist claptrap like the Daily Prophet, and it was too easy to get noticed in this day and age for doing the wrong things. But Alvin didn’t care. Alvin didn’t care at all, and he thought it was all well and good to be seen gallivanting who-knows-where with God-knows-who and nothing bad could ever come of that, now could it?
Kaylee stormed down the hallway, taking care to not mutter under her breath and settling for grinding her teeth instead. She managed to fume all the way down the spiral staircase to get the paper, and when she picked up The Pseudopolis Herald she stopped raging. The Pseudopolis Herald never printed a word of a lie, after all. So who was she to argue with the front page news?
MURDER AND MIDNIGHT MAYHEM IN MUDTOWN!
Kaylee ripped open the paper, heart beating quickly.
Early this morning, a murder was reported on Drury Lane in Scab’s End. Anybody familiar with Rotterfeldt is also a bit too familiar with the decay and urban rot of Scab’s End.
Oh, typical, typical, more chin music, blah blah blah! Kaylee scanned the article, until her eyes alighted on one particular sentence.
Our inside source, Sherlock Holmes, managed to clear a few things up for us. “Well, the suspect has yet to be identified, but this ‘Jack’, so called, is probably a six-foot three white male.” No comment was available from Commissioner Irene Adler at this time. This Jack the Ripper seems to be running lose in the streets...
Kaylee exhaled hard, and sucked in air through her teeth, not even bothering to finish the sentence. Panting with rage, Kaylee tore the front page off the newspaper, crumpling it beyond repair. This was supposed to be her moment! Her’s and Alvin’s! And this cad, no, this fraud thought he could just steal it away from her? It was monsters, not a person! How could anyone be so dense?!
“I deserve this! I have worked too hard to lose it to you!” Kaylee hissed at the newspaper. The newspaper didn’t respond and did not take Kaylee’s criticisms to heart.
Kaylee slammed the door, and strode over to the phone. The Hall of Justice’s Library always seemed to let her through.
“Constantine!” she barked.
“Sun well to you too, little sister.”
“Did you see the paper?” she hissed, twirling the phone cord around her finger.
“Did I ever! Can you imagine? A murderer, Kaylee! Is that who you were chasing last night? Oh, it’s too grand! Wonderful old time, my dear! I even got a special request for the Second Star party to boot! It was from Xavier in Filing, funny that he's got connections!” Constantine rambled happily. Kaylee’s memory snapped on the piece of information. “Second Star?” she repeated.
“Yessiree, it’s a gin joint. But you wouldn’t be interested, would you?”
“As a matter of fact, Con, I’m all atwitter,” responded Kaylee, a plan forming.
There was an incredulous noise from Constantine. “What? My girl, that’s fill. Just because I’m invited doesn’t mean I’m going.”
“What? Connie, please! You have to!” Kaylee wailed. She had to go. That writing on the wall, that hint when she was looking, it had to mean something! And now was her chance, and stupid Constantine was ruining everything!
“No how, kid. I’m not going down that route again.”
“Con, please?” Kaylee begged.
“Kaylee! I! Can’t! I don’t want to go back. I can’t go back, okay!? Why the hell don’t you get that?” Constantine snarled. A bright pop of static burst in Kaylee’s ear. The line went silent.
“
Sorry, Connie. Shouldn’t have pushed you,” Kaylee whispered, cradling the phone between her face and shoulder. Constantine didn’t say anything, but Kaylee could hear him breathing. “You can have the invite if you want. Just don’t expect me to go with you,” Constantine said after a while. “It’s got everything you could possibly need on it, so be a big girl and go by your lonesome.”
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