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Earth Victoriana: Music Hall Mystery!


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She gave an encouraging little smile to the man; if they were going to be subtle then she would have to prepare the man to the fact that she looked like his beloved.

“Do you think it’s a good idea for me to wander into the hotel into looking like this? I mean going looking for a Bishop whilst looking like a glowing creature from the heavens? It’s bound to bring out all his Inquisition guards.â€

She took a deep breath; this could be quite traumatic for the poor man.

“I have another ability, to take on the visage of another. I could take on the form of Ms Wheatly and together we could confront him, it might get more information from him than a direct confrontation.â€

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GM

"A woman of many talents!" said a surprised Mr. Trowell. "You know, I simply must talk to your agent" he continued, slipping her his business card.

A little later

Trowell pulled up outside the Hotel Wilde, all gold paint and a somewhat vulgar, garish look compared to much of London, Earth Victoriana. He ushered Young Britannia inside, and had a quiet word with the receptionist, and manager, slipping them what looked like a couple of tickets to a show, and giving them a friendly smile.

He strolled back to Young Brittania.

"Room 210" he said "with a couple of official Vatican agents outside, apparently, and I don't think a couple of tickets to The fourty nymph's of arabia will do the trick on them, if I know anything. So, what's your plan?"

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Agnes looked a little thoughtful for a few moments.

“We need to get the Bishop away from most of his guards. Hmm, If the mountain will not come to Muhammad...â€

She gave Mr Trowell and confident little smile.

“Do you happen to have a sample of Ms Wheatly’s writing? Maybe we can tempt him out of his room.â€

She wandered over to the reception desk.

“Hello there I wonder if you provide me with a room for a days.†Even though she only needed if for a few hour, she didn’t want to have that kind of reputation. “And I would like a pen and paper and oh I could really do with a cuppa, it’s been that kind of day.â€

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GM

"Ah but of course Madame!" replied the manager, with a trace of a faux French accent. "I do hope you enjoy your stay at the Wilde hotel!" he said, almost fawning over what he presumed was a wealthy starlet.

"Manuel! One Pot of English Tea! Pronto! Pronto!" he snapped at a passing porter, who jumped to attention, heels clicking, and sped off.

"What Room would you like?" he asked politely "We have a few single's a few double's and of course the executive suite is free, if Madame would care to avail herself of the very finest luxury service one can buy in the Empire! Of course, it is quite expensive, but I can assure Madame it will be an experience not to be forgot!" he added, twirling an upright finger infront of him to add particular emphasis.

"I can arrange your luggage to be taken, of course" he said "and please, if there is anything Madame would care for, then please do not hesitate to ask!"

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Oh well in for penny. She just hoped that the Ministry would be happy to foot the bill, it was unlikely that her credit card could take the strain.

“I believe I shall take the executive suite would you arrange for afternoon tea to be delivered within the hour. When we are satisfied with the quarters my manger here will return with further requests. Unless of cause you can spare a member of staff for solve my requests.â€

She gave her sweetest smile, trying to convey that yes she was meant to be her and yes she could make such demands.

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  • 2 weeks later...

GM

The executive suite did indeed live up to its reputation, all plush cushions, silk, oak, and a magnificent view.

Tea was served, and it too was spiffing.

The butler who carefully poured her tea was dressed perfectly, with pristine white gloves and a marvellous elocution.

"Your teah mad-ahm" he said in most regal tones.

"Ahm I to H'understand that Mad-Ahm also wishes to make H'additional H'inquh'uiries?" he asked politely, giving a nuanced bow.

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Using all her patience and skills picked up from a predecessor, she carefully wrote out a note in the handwriting of Ada. She had to use a lot of guess work but she was starting to get a feel for Ms Wheatly.

The note basically invited the Bishop up to this wonderful suite to share afternoon tea with her and discus the unfinished business between them. The last thing she needed was the verbal sparring that she suspected the Bishop would indulge in but she was hopeful to get the last piece of the puzzle.

Of cause if he already had Ada he might just try to kill her but she could actually cope with that better.

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GM

Later, at the Wilde Hotel...

*Knock Knock*

The Bishop Innocente burst in, alone, in full ceremonial garb. He looked flustered.

"Ms. Wheatley, Ms. Wheatley" he said in a garbled tone, before grabbing her and clutching her to his bosom.

"How I feared for you, feared for you mortal soul...I know our love is forbidden by the church. But our my love and desire for you was not to be denied! Oh Ms. Wheatley! I feared the Inquisition had taken you! Spirited you away, to keep you from my arms! Oh how I have wished it was not so, and now, to find your womanly form once again clutched to my chest...!"

"Oh! Ms. Wheatley!" he sighed, clutching her head once again straight into his chest.

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Well that explains that.

“I’m afraid there’s been a ghastly mistake.†She made her voice as gushy as she could.

She gently pushed herself away with the bishop and gave Mr Trowell and go with it look. Tears fill her eyes, and to think EastEnders turned her down.

“I had hired a look alike as part of my act, she could barely sing but the two of use on stage together would have been sensational. But the poor girl has been kidnapped by those ungodly fiends.â€

She straightened up and whipped the mock tears from her eyes.

“We must help this poor girl. I feel responsible to rescuing her from these… these people!â€

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GM

"Wha...Wha..." spluttered Bishop Innocente, before gabbling a whole strong of Italian out - not directed at her, or maybe even at himself, but ending in a Latin phrase and a crusifix motion.

"Heavens! you look so like her!" he proclaimed, before shaking his head.

"Deceit! Deceit! All around! Who can Innocente trust! Nobody! that's who!" he said, fingering the heavy cursifix around his neck and running his fingers through his hair nervously.

"Who hired you? the Inquisition?" he demanded, with a look of dread on his face "too subtle for them...but still. A blackmailer? I will deny everything. EVERYTHING, you understand!"

He sat down, his head in his hands.

"Oh my poor Ms. Wheatley, what have they done to you? what are they doing to you?" he moaned.

"Yes, yes...rescue her! the Inquisition! perhaps..." he stood up and took 'Ms. Wheatley' by the shoulders.

"One slender possibility presents itself! the Spanish ship, Galicia...it is docked at Deptford. Oh, I know it is under suspicion. But yes, Innocente knows the Inquisition operate out of it. Merchant vessel, hah, damned! a secret deck, underneath all others! yes, I saw the plans, I still have some wits about me!"

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Agnes gave a little smile, she had said it before, but this time she really thought she had a clue. With a brief moment of concentration and flash of light Young Britannia was standing before the two.

“Non Angeli, sed Angli.†She gave a little bow towards Bishop Innocente “This deception was unfortunately necessary Monsignor. But I must remind you a young woman’s life may be at stake even as we speak.â€

She floated a few feet in the air and offered her arms out to the two men.

“I’m going now to save the woman you both care about. Do either of you wish to help me?â€

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GM

"Of course madam!" both men replied.

Innocente fell to his knees. "What is this?" he asked "Are you my Guardian Angel?" he said, pleading at her with wonder in his eyes and his voice. He held his crucifix tightly with both hands.

"You fly like one! Amazing! You must be sent from Heaven to save poor Innocente! Oh! How I have sinned! Yes! Sinned! I beg forgiveness for the sins of the flesh! It was done from love, dear God, Oh Innocente! Innocente!!!"

He prostated himself in front of Young Brittania for several uncomfortable seconds during which eyes were casted left and right, not knowing where to look.

He then peeked upwards.

"What's the plan?" he said in a more straightforward way.

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It was tempting to play to his beliefs, on better than these Cannonades, but her conscious got the better of her. Her flow faded a little and her feet touched the ground.

“No I’m just a normal person just like yourself. Given a special gift to help people, all people, whenever the need arises.â€

She obviously left out the part about being the embodiment of a pagan spirit of the land that might gall a practicing Catholic.

She gently lifted up the two men and slowly lifted them all into the air.

“Before we leave is anyone afraid of heights? I might need help with directions; I don’t think I have Sat-nav for Victorian London.â€

She slowly drifted out of the window, before taking off at her top speed.

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GM

Later, at Deptford Docks...

With Mr. Trowell's directions (admittedly, one wrong turn - well London did look a little different airborne) it did not take long for the unlikely trio to reach the docks of Deptford. They were a busy, and indeed slightly unruly place, especially as the evening was late and the pubs full. The docks were worked by immigrants of all sorts - Chinese, Irish, Dutch, and, yes, even a few Spaniards. It was perfect for the Galicia to dock.

It was big, for sure, but not otherwise impressive. Indeed, it actually looked slightly shabby, a little outdated, weatherbeaten, even a bit of disrepair showing, although it worked well enough. Huge steam powered machines powered it, and Iron and wood made its skin.

Young Brittania's light drew quite a crowd, mainly Chinese workers. They looked friendly enough, and highly impressed.

"What's this?" said their leader, in a grubby but very tall high hat, that ill matched his work clothes. "Don't tell me Chun-Su has made some steam powered jet pack now! he caused enough trouble last year, prob'lee explode in faces!" he said with a raised eyebrow, some caution, and a hefted crowbar, although he didn't look ready to pounce.

The others were more curious about exactly how the heroine could fly, but all looked pretty impressed.

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Agnes really wanted to wave back to the dockworker or at least give a little barrel roll, but that would be a little unfair to her passengers. Instead she called out a little greeting in Mandarin and just for luck Cantonese. Luck some of her past selves had spent some time out in the orient.

“I’m afraid stealth is probably not an option gentlemen. Is it worth trying to talk to these Inquisitors Monsignor?â€

She stopped to hover in the air a good distance from the Galicia, but close enough to see if anyone was moving around on deck. She even dialled down the glow, though a faint light still flared around her.

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GM

“I’m afraid stealth is probably not an option gentlemen. Is it worth trying to talk to these Inquisitors Monsignor?â€

Bishop Innocente shrugged his shoulders. "The Inquisition, no madam. It is not, in my experience. They talk at you, rather than with you. In some situations, they back up their words with unfortunate metal instruments that significantly improve their powers of persuasion."

He was starting to sweat slightly.

"And on that note, I would rather not be seen entering the boat. Or indeed be in your presence..." he looked nervously around at the Chinese dockworkers. "Not that the Chinese, heathen swine, have much to do with the glory of the one true God. Filth!" he clutched his crucifix in an attempt to ward them off.

"The Spanish Merchants on the top decks, perhaps" he continued "although I have no doubt they are loyal to Church and Spanish state. And are probably more loyal to coin, and no doubt paid well by the Inquisition. Sea Merchants worship gold more than anything else. "

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Agnes gave a sharp look at the Bishop comments, it probably didn’t help she was raised a good pagan girl. But despite being a small minded bigot who was in lust with a trollop (who looked just like her, let’s hope the Red Tops didn’t get hold of that) she needed his help. Instead she mumbled a rather creative insult in mandarin.

Wait the Chinese! That gave her an idea.

“Close your eyes it’s going to get rather bright out here.â€

It’s not something she’d ever tried to do, but hey it was just lots of coloured lights in the sky right?

After a few moments concentration the sky was lit up with a sparkling array of firework, in multiple forms and colours, basically as many as she could remember. They weren’t perfect, she couldn’t get the sound just right but the display did blanket the sky around the ship in multiple lights.

Hopefully unnoticed her and her two passengers touched down on the ship to see if the crew on board would be suitable allies.

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GM

"OOOh"

"AAAAh"

"Some of them go bang-whizz!"

"Some of them go whizz-bang!"

The crowd lapped up the display.

Aside from the spectacular display of lights, the power of Young Brittania's firework display also caused a draining of light from herself and her two (slightly reluctant) colleauges. Their visage faded, as the light leeched out of their form into the fireworks.

"Very impressive my dear" said Mr. Trowell.

"El Miracle! El Miracle!" said Innocente, clutching his Cruicifix. "Lord be praised!"

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She gave a little mock bow.

“Arthur C Clarke would disagree with you Monsignor, but thank you anyway.â€

She concentrated briefly and her normal, disguised, visage returned. She gestured towards the interior of the ship.

“Unfortunately my Spanish only goes as far as Two Beers and No, I don’t want to dance. So you are going to have to do most of the talking Monsignor.â€

In her tiny little blow for feminism she pulled open a nearby hatch.

“Shall we go and see if the crew are willing to help. I’ve had a couple of lucky days with sailors the past couple of days.â€

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GM

The upper deck had several Spanish merchant sailors milling around. Young Brittania, Innocente, and Trowell had to creep around very quietly, and one occasion stand deathly still and breathe in as a young sailor walked past them in a corridor.

It took several minutes, and longer, for the three of them to find the hidden hatch, behind a large wooden box labelled "beware of the tiger" but only stuffed with hay and a mechanical record player giving the occasional growling noise.

The hatch itself was of robust Iron, reinforced and locked, and probably barred from the inside.

"Probably have some fancy knock or password" said Trowell, pressing his ear to the hatch. "Maybe some nice Latin phrase, but it's pure guesswork... I don't know how we are going to get pass this, invisible or not..."

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Agnes signed and in an instantly resumed her Young Britannia form.

“Oh well bugger all this subtly then. I assume both of you are armed in some way. If so I suggest you get ready. And try to stay behind me; I’m a little more bullet resistant than you two are.â€

She grabbed the rusted door and tensed her muscles ready to pull whilst the two gentlemen got ready behind her.

“Everybody get stand back, and I suggest you don’t try this at home!â€

She them began to push the door inwards whilst striding forward hoping to take the door with her and catch the occupants by surprise.

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GM

“ I assume both of you are armed in some way. If so I suggest you get ready. And try to stay behind me; I’m a little more bullet resistant than you two are.â€

"Of course Madam!" replied Innocente, proudly and with a little indignation.

"I am armed with my faith in the one true God!" he proclaimed, holding his crucifix infront of him like a shield. "It is my sword and my shield!"

"Bloody useless, then.." said Trowell, with a sneer "about as much use as a woman driver. No offence, miss" he said, with a polite bow at Young Brittania. "And I am afraid I don't go around carrying firearms. I employ people for that. I am a gentleman. I don't get my hands dirty. I pay other people to get their hand's dirty..."

As the door lock snapped in twain, to the astonishment of both Innocente and Trowell, who took cover behind the heroine (despite Innocente's proclamation of divine protection), Young Brittania got a look at a secret, Iron Walled operation deck, open planned.

A quick glance in showed that there were at least 6 agents, in dark monk's robes, working there, with weapons of various types. Whilst they could not see the three intruders, they could certainly hear the Iron lock snapping and the door opening...

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GM

That didn't help the Inquisition much however...

"What was that?" said one, reaching for a crossbow. The others looked at each other.

"We are betrayed!" cursed one, shaking his fist at the upper levels.

"Nothing there..." finished yet another, peering at the empty doorway. "But I heard the lock snap..."

"Arm yourselves, Bretheren, there is devilry afoot!" mumbled one more, as he sidled to a desk and picked up a variety of weapons - crossbow, knive, some caltrops, and grenades. His fellows followed suit, all making crucifix motions and looking nervously at the door...

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Young Britannia came crashing into the room door still in hand.

â€Nobody expects, no that’s far too cheesy. And most you don’t understand a word I’m saying.â€

Whilst playing the glowing idiot she was scanning the room, trying to work out where everybody was. If she could incapacitate everyone without any harm it was reduce a possible diplomatic incident. And the two poor unarmed fools, after all they were just trying to help.

She twirled the door and placed it in the gap before the two could step forward into the room.

“I can think of a much better phrase for you.â€

She gathered together all her power into a quick flash of light.

“Fiat Lux!â€

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GM

"Satan, the angel of light!" screamed one, followed by echoes of agreement.

"I cannot see! Lord grant me your eyes!" shouted one, firing off a crossbow bolt wildly, which thudded into the wall beside Young Brittania.

Four of the Inquisition, faster than their unfortunate comrades, moved in, unfazed by the brilliance... their heavy robes being brought up against the illumination.

"Child of Satan!" said one, fixed on Young Brittania "We see you and...INNOCENTE???" he gasped, spotting the cowering Bishop.

"You shall pay!" he said, pointing an accusing finger at the poor man "Fornication, Treason... these would have been enough to seal your fate. But consorting with the devil...there shall be no mercy, Innocente! No mercy at all!"

It had to be said, it seemed these six grim men were not big fans of mercy at the best of times. The knives were drawn and slid straight and true into the brilliant heroine, without leaving a scratch!

"The Devil's Sorcery!" said one, startled "Lord! Give me your strength, give me your arm! Cut out her fiendish heart!"

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