At the Longfellow bunker, The Tombs; New London, Britannia:
Viola (to George): Here, George, let me lend you a hand with that. Addie's sleeping soundly and I've got 2 hands for a change.
George (to Viola): Oh, um, thank you, Miss Viola. The kids left the room in quite a state & it's my turn to do the tidying.
Viola (to George): So you been here awhile & I imagine you've heard a lot of things, right?
George (to Viola): Oh, you know, my fair amount, I suppose. But I don't really like to gossip or nothing.
Viola (to George): I'm not looking for gossip… I was just wondering if you knew Turner's girl?
George (to Viola): … Charles has found himself a girl!?! Pull the other leg it's got bells on. I mean, I suppose there's some gel out there dumb enough to fall for that stuck-up gentleman act of his but I don't know a name. Sorry.
Viola (to George): Oh well, no matter… I was only curious.
George (to Viola): Miss Viola, may I offer you some advice?
Viola (to George): … I guess so. What is it?
George (to Viola): Leave Mister Turner alone. Stop focusing on the past and try helping your future.
Viola (to George): That's exactly what I'm doing, George. But, I appreciate the concern… I'll let you get back to it. I shouldn't leave Addie alone for too long.
George (to Viola): See ya later.
Viola (to George): Yeah, you too... Bossy lad. Who the hell does he think he is? … I can't wait to get the hell out of here.
A few hours later:
Fiona (to Charles): There you are, Mr. Turner!
Charles (to Fiona): Ms McGillivray! ...You...You really enjoy doing that, don't you?
Fiona (to Charles): Ha ha! Of course I do! Don't stop on my account. No one wants me holding up the food. What can you tell me about Miss Viola before she joined the Smith gang?
Charles (to Fiona): Not much, I'm afraid. She and her brother Phillip joined the gang to get away from a workhouse, I believe. I'm afraid I don't know her last name. Or much else about her.
Fiona (to Charles): Well, we wouldn't want it to be too easy now, would we? One more thing, what exactly does the tattoo on your neck mean? Clashes a bit with that Little Lord image you've cultivated.
Charles (to Fiona): ...I didn't have a choice about the tattoos. I, um, I used to collect the "dues" from the brothels Achilles controlled. I, uh, I had a pretty good rapport with the girls... This mark was how I proved to the new ladies I was with the gang. The one Maladori removed, according to Achilles, was a code that only he knew. It had my name and the amount it would cost me to buy my freedom from the gang. Everyone who owed him money had one.
Fiona (to Charles): Thought it might be something like that. Alright, lad. That's me sorted for now. I'll leave you to your work. Cheers!
Charles (to Fiona): Yes, ma'am. Good evening… Ruddy 'ell... She's gonna give me a fit one of these days.
A couple hours later:
George (to Fiona): Hi Miss McGillivray! I have some information for you, if you want it.
Fiona (to George): I always want information, lad! I'm the nosiest of Parkers. What did you learn, lovely?
George (to Fiona): The last name's Locklear. Their Pa was a bloke name of "Lockjaw" Locklear. he was an enforcer for the Fleet St. Gang. Their Ma was at Madam Wong's, you know one of those places.
Fiona (to George): Awww! The Fleet Street boys. I've got a history with them. Well, well, well... This promises to be a fun assignment. Good work.
George (to Fiona): Thank you, Miss.
Fiona (to George): No reason to thank me, Fitzroy! You were the one that did the leg work. I don't hand out false compliments, so there's no need for false humility.
George (to Fiona): I wasn't offering false humility, Miss. I appreciated the compliment… Um, one of the girls I spoke to said that Viola had been attacked & changed a bit afterwards. She apparently had no memory of it. Shock, I guess. That might be why-- Oh. Nevermind. It could explain a few things at any rate.
Fiona (to George): ...Thought it might be something a bit like that. <tsk> Too ruddy common a story, if you ask me.
George (to Fiona): Yeah… I still don't like her much.
Fiona (to George): Heh. No one's asking you to. Doesn't matter how broken some of us are. We're still all responsible for our actions.
George (to Fiona): I know… I guess I should go get some dinner before there's nothing left but salad.
Fiona (to George): Go on then. I've got a ponce to annoy before I head off to shove my nose into business that isn't mine.
George (to Fiona): Yes, ma'am. Good luck on your assignment, Miss McGillivray.
Fiona (to George): Heh. Save your luck for those that'll need it. ;-) Keep on your toes, Fitzroy!
A short time later:
George (to Charles): Excuse me, Mr. Turner, is there anything left to eat?
Charles (to George): Oh, yes, of course, Mr. Fitzroy. I saved you a plate. I can reheat it if you like.
George: Oi! Shut your gobs, you lot! This is how polite folks talk to one another. Try & learn somethin'. (to Charles) I don't want you to go to any trouble.
Charles (to George): Ignore them, Mr. Fitzroy. They've been taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in teasing me this evening.
George (to Charles): Heh. Well, they better can it, if they know what's good for 'em. Chore assignments are getting doled out tomorrow. Heh. That shut 'em up.
Charles: ... Keep up your sniggers and you'll get no other scraps. Nothing wrong with bein' well read. (to George) Heh. I believe you're better with the students than I am. Here you are. Is that enough?
George (to Charles): Yeah. That should be fine… Your problem is that you're trying to reason with 'em. It's bloody useless with this lot. Sure, if they stick around and start developing some actual brains in their little skulls, you can do that. But, right now, it's simply easier to threaten them. Isn't that right, you little monkeys?
Charles (to George): Heh. I acquiesce to your greater knowledge, sir. Means he's right 'bout you lot. Now clear off 'fore I make you clean up!
George (to Charles): Heh. See? Works like a charm.
Charles (to George): Heh... Sorry. I keep trying to treat them like I wanted to be treated. At least they're not muttering at me darkly when I walk the tunnels now. Mostly.
George (to Charles): Yeah well, one on one you can probably do that but when they're in groups. Don't bother. It's all pack mode with 'em then. Thank you for setting food aside for me.
Charles (to George): I was never very good with groups, even in the gang. It was no trouble to set aside a little something for you, sir. I'm sure you'll find a way to forgive this small kindness should you find yourself so inclined.
George (to Charles): ... I'm sure I'll think of something... I should go. I don't want to get in trouble with Mr. Vadrouiller.
Charles (to George): Yes. Of course. I won't keep you, then.
George (to Charles): Oh! Mr. Turner, do you know anything about um, plumbing? Because, my sink seems to be have issues & I could use some help repairing it.
Charles (to George): I wouldn't call myself an expert, sir, but I know a bit about pipes. I'm at your service. Shall I call after your rounds?
George (to Charles): Yeah, that would be perf-- swell, you know if it's not too much of a bother.
Charles (to George): Of course not. I shall see you then. Um... Before you go, if I may be so bold to beg your help, would you be so kind as to step into the pantry and smell something for me? I fear some of our supplies have gone bad.
George (to Charles): Oh yeah, I guess so... Heh. Don't ever use that line on a girl, Turner. Come into my stinky pantry. Heh.
Charles (to George): I-- I beg your pardon, sir! I'm sure I have no idea what on earth you could possibly mean. C'mere! ... Heh. Sorry, Wildcat… You should go... I'll see to your sink later, yeah?
George (to Charles): After a kiss like that, you better. ;-p
Charles (to George): You can count on it... Thank you for your help, Mr. Fitzroy. I'll get those grains sorted straight away.
George (to Charles): See you later, Mister Turner.
Charles (to George): Yes, sir.
