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located in Steampowered London - 1885, a part of Death Comes to London, one of the many universes on RPG.

Steampowered London - 1885

A metropolis of clockwork and steam.


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Outside London - The Former Parish of St. Lukas
July 4, 1885 - 22:30 p.m - Thunderstorm
Theodore Kent

Though young, Theodore Kent had not been small in quite some time. With two tall parents, it had always been a sort of foregone conclusion that he'd end up the same. Still, he had to quicken his pace to keep up with the Prince, who had a speed and fluidity to his motion that Theodore knew meant he probably wasn't quite human.

Not that he minded. Honestly he probably wouldn't even mention it, just in case he happened to be wrong.

They made quick time to the outbuilding. The local constable hadn't arrived yet, and the Church fellow had no doubt found it more important to keep the guests contained than watch over a corpse, which Theodore figured wasn't exactly a bad instinct. Poor lady wasn't really going anywhere.

The light from his lantern illuminated a bit more than anyone had been able to see earlier, including the cooling pool of blood Lady de Jaager was laying in. Theodore grimaced, trying not to make it obvious how much seeing her like that unnerved him. His mother hadn't ever really tried to keep truths about the world from him, but... he'd never seen a dead person so close before either. The fear frozen into her expression, her dull eyes... it wasn't something he was going to forget anytime soon.

Still, he had a job to do, and that was to help Mr. Ramsey by getting any information he could before the locals got here and messed everything up like they were always doing. Or so his mum said anyway, usually when she was teasing Mr. Ramsey the way she liked to.

"You, uh... you see anything?" he asked the Prince, not totally sure what the protocol was on a situation like this. Titles seemed kind of stupid in this situation, and this fellow had done more or less what Theodore's mum and Miss Amy had said, so he didn't seem to be too big for his trousers or anything.

The Prince didn't immediately answer, and seemed focused on Lady de Jaager. He knelt down as if to inspect something before pursing his lips together. “Other than the obvious, she was stabbed in the neck. If there were any scents that could have been connected to her, the rain's washed it away," he finally spoke, sighing deeply. He folded his arms across his chest and seemed to be contemplating something.

“The man they found with her, Seamus? He might have seen something," he muttered as if to himself. He didn't seem too convinced, though, and shook his head. “That doesn't seem right. Hey, Kent," he stated, turning towards Theodore. “Come here for a second, and..." he paused to turn back towards Lady de Jaager before pointing to a spot, “stand right there. I need to see something."

Theodore, much more interested in helping with whatever investigating the Prince was doing instead of fixing the power, moved carefully to the exact spot he specified, still holding his lantern. It gleamed off the golden handle of the thing Lady de Jaager had been stabbed with—apparently a letter opener, if he was seeing that right.

"What is it?" he asked, turning his eyes from the body and the weapon and back towards the Prince.

The Prince furrowed his brows. “It looks like a letter opener of some sort. Wasn't cheap, from the looks of it," he stated, however; he moved so that he was behind Theodore. He made a soft sound in the back of his throat before he moved back to Theodore's line of sight. “Lady de Jaager was standing forward, and stabbed from behind. I can't tell, exactly, but that's what the gist is, so Seamus wouldn't have seen anything. Let's see if we can get the power back on," he stated, moving carefully around Lady de Jaager.

“It'll be easier to see if there is anything else that might point in the direction of the murderer," he stated, making his way towards the wire box.

Theodore nodded slightly, throwing the dead woman one last uncertain glance before following the Prince to the box. Making sure that the power was shut off first, he noted that the cover was already off the box, which definitely did suggest that the O'Sullivan guy had been taking a look at it and gotten electrocuted.

"You know," he said, crouching down near the box and taking a look. "If this guy was supposed to be the handyman around here, there should be no way he forgot to check if the power was off. Seems to me like someone flipped it back on after he got here. That's not a lot of time—maybe they were followed in here directly for some reason? Then the culprit flips the switch, waits for O'Sullivan to electrocute himself, and stabs Lady De Jaager afterwards? While she's freaking out?"

It would explain the scream, and why it suddenly stopped. Maybe she hadn't seen her attacker at all, just her handyman getting possibly killed by an electric charge.

He hummed as he examined the wires. "I think the storm really did knock it out though. Nothing here looks like it was tampered with. So it wasn't a trap, you know? I'm gonna throw the backup generator on."

“That is a possibility," he replied, huffing quietly as he shook his head. “It could have just been the perfect opportunity to commit a crime, and return under the cover of darkness. I think..." he paused for a moment, “it would be something I'd take advantage of if I wanted to murder someone. It also looks like a spur of the moment kind of thing, though. Who goes around carrying a letter opener as a choice of weapon?"

“Come to think of it..." he paused again, pursing his lips together, “Why would anyone have a letter opener on them if this wasn't their home? Doesn't add up, none of it." He merely shrugged, though, and waited for Theodore to turn the backup generator on.

Theodore in the meantime had picked his way over to the backup. It was an old, squat thing, and if he was completely honest the copper wiring didn't look to be in the best shape, but as best he could tell in the dim light, it should work okay for now.

Given the recent electrocution of Mr. O'Sullivan, he was careful about it, making sure that nothing he could see was connected some way it shouldn't go, then flipping the necessary switches to start the thing up. It groaned and shuddered a little before its pitch settled at a hum, and with a slightly-worrying wheeze, started to circulate power.

The lights in the outbuilding flickered on, dimmer than they probably should have been, but enough to basically see by at least. From the dull sounds filtering in from the direction of the main house, something similar had probably happened there. "Well," he said, expelling a breath and straightening to turn towards the Prince. "I guess that's one problem solved for now."

“For now," he murmured, his lips pursed into a fine line. The Prince seemed to be thinking about something since he had a furrowed brow, and he was staring at the floor where Lady de Jaager had been found. He shook his head, though, and turned towards Theodore. “Since we have more light, perhaps we should look around to see if anything is misplaced. Perhaps a servant or two saw something out of the ordinary," he began, his face smoothing out in the process. He sniffed slightly before rubbing at his nose.

“We won't be able to find any footprints, not that it'd help, because of the rain," he muttered to himself, it seemed. “Let's go see what we can find," he stated, glancing in Theodore's direction. “If it really was a spur of the moment thing, the person might have messed up somewhere." It was likely in the event that Lady de Jaager's death wasn't planned.

Theodore scratched a bit at the back of his head at the bit about footprints and the rain, but shrugged. It sort of made sense, if that kind of thing was likely to be washed away. Glancing up, he caught side of the electric clock on the wall. 10:10. It was later than that now, of course, but he figured that was probably when the power had gone out. "I don't think the Lady has a whole lot of them," he observed. "Servants I mean. Mum said she'd written a few months ago asking for advice on how to downsize a staff. We don't have very many either, so I guess she wanted to know how it worked."

He also couldn't imagine too many of them having wanted to be outside in the rain, but maybe one of them had seen something weird earlier.

Glancing once more at the poor lady on the floor, Theodore filed out of the outbuilding behind the Prince, taking care to close it tightly behind him. There wasn't much he could do by way of being respectful, but at least this way she wouldn't be visible to anyone who walked by or anything.

“That will make things slightly difficult," he responded, his shoulders slumping as he sighed. “It would be one thing if she had a full staff, but if you're saying she downsized..." he trailed off slightly, glancing towards Theodore from the side of his eyes. “It'll still be worth asking the ones she does have. If there's even a small chance that one of them saw something, we'd have somewhat of a trail." He hummed something in the back of his throat, as if he'd figured something else out, however; he remained quiet until they reached the doors.

The Prince opened them, stepped inside, and glanced around the hall. Some of the guests were gathered in circles, chatting among themselves. Now that the lights were back on, it was easier to see who was around. The Prince didn't seem too interested in the guests though, and seemed to be looking for one of the servants. They didn't spot one until they reached the kitchen area, and he immediately walked up to them.

“Did you happen to be near the windows or doors before the lights went out?" he asked once he had their attention.

The servant, a young man probably only a few years older than Theodore, blinked, eyes going wide. Probably because he was being so directly addressed by one of the guests. “Erm, no, uh—milord. We've all been kind of... everywhere all night, but only inside the house, and erm... focused in, if y'know what I mean?" He had the typical uncertain tone of a service class individual speaking to presumed nobility, which Theodore had learned early on in life wasn't something that went away just because you said it could.

Humming a bit, he tried it the other way around. If there was anyone who'd been seen inside when the power went out, they were probably less likely to have been the killer, right? "Was anyone around you when the lights went out?" he asked.

“Erm..." The youth looked like he was trying very hard not to rub at the back of his close-cropped dark hair. “Well like I said, most of us staff have been in and out of the kitchen all night. What with the serving and all. I think I remember seeing everybody pretty close to then? Oh, and there was uh, Lord Hollis. He was really interested in the brandy for the tasting later, so I saw him just before." The servant shrugged, as if to say this sort of eccentricity wasn't unexpected.

Theodore wondered if maybe Lord Hollis wasn't one of those types that was a little too fond of liquor. A servant would be both too polite and too intimidated to tell an actual lord off for sneaking glasses of the stuff beforehand. But even if that was true, it didn't seem to have anything to do with the murder. He turned his attention to the Prince and grimaced.

"I think we might be stuck until Mr. Ramsey gets here," he admitted.

“Yeah," was the response Theodore received, however; the Prince looked puzzled by something. His brows were furrowed deeply, his lips were pursed into a fine line, and his eyes were slightly narrowed. It was almost as if he were inspecting something in the distance, but he blinked, and glanced at Theodore. “Something still doesn't smell right," he muttered, but said nothing further. Instead, he rolled out his shoulder and sighed.

“Let's wait for Ramsey, then," he stated, ushering Theodore in front of him.

The youth nodded, and led the way back to the ballroom, where it seemed nearly everyone had been gathered.

Mr. Ramsey would know what to do.