Victorian Crossover: 1874

London, December 25th, 1873

The Victorian Era labours forward, as indomitable and proud as the Sovereign herself. In just over a year, the nineteenth century is to pass into its fourth quarter. The world is gripped by tumultuous change, even as it stagnates. The future encroaches, and the world struggles to adapt. Opportunities await those who would seek them, as do dangers.

Both danger and opportunity presented themselves in the immediate future of an unusual gathering, summoned as the result of a wager between two great men seeking to settle an ancient score. The outcome would be decided through a number of players, all of whom had little concept of their role, as of yet.

Over the previous month a number of letters had been dispatched to an assortment of locations. The order in which these letters had been sent off may have seemed random and uncoordinated to an uninformed observer, but had in fact been carefully arranged, with the intent of eliciting all recipients arriving in the enclosed location at the same point in time, or thereabouts.

These letters, written in yellow ink upon red paper, contained little in the way of discernible information, simply stating the name of the recipient in question and a sparse yet formally worded invitation requesting their presence at “48, Doughty Street, London” on the first of January, 1874, at 00:01PM exactly. Aside from these details, the only clue as to the identity of their sender was the printed monogram “M.H”.

The city was only now seeing the first of these arrivals...

edited 19th Jun '13 8:20:48 PM by Vox

Philias Fogg stepped out of the taxi carriage, paid the driver, and looked around while he clattered away. He turned; walked up to the door, and knocked on it at exactly 1:00 PM. Fogg made sure to always be punctual to a point, and today was no exception. He taped his cane on the ground and hummed quietly to himself while he waited. His mind wandered to the schedule he usually adhered religiously to, but something about the letter had made him decide to break routine and check this out. Only now that he was standing here did he wonder if monsters or magic were involved. He tightened his grip on the cane and waited.

"Dispose of this malcontent" sniffed the long beaded man, using a finger to curl around his beard and eye the letter he now held. One of his 'girls' had apparently been sent by Scotland Yard to spy on him. The fiends! Could a gentleman not be judged for providing young girls with all the benefits they should be accustomed to? He opened the letter with a ornamental blade and read the contents therein after putting on some pince-nez. After dealing with the girl vigorously via his cane, her belongings had been searched and the letter found. It intrigued him as the brute enforcer dragged the still warm body away.

"A rendevous I see. Well, since she won't be able to make it I should go in her place. It is the least I could do" he said, and laughed to himself gayly, taking up his cane and twirling it as he strolled out of his 'throne room'. "Lenore, watch the collegium if you wouldn't mind" he ordered to the short squat man in a plague mask stuffed with smelling herbs. The man nodded and scuttled away as Svengali, Master of women, strolled to his new appointment.

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Outside the house, he spotted a man already ahead of him and slipped into the dark of an alleyway. Things could only get more interesting, he reckoned, and watched the house, and it's visitor.

edited 14th Jun '13 1:46:02 PM by BigDaddyP

-As the London-Edinburgh express pulls into the station, four men aboard look out, with varied expressions ranging from apprehension to disgust to outright hatred. An acute observer of human types, the kind who could identify a cigar by its ash, would have been hard-pressed to precisely categorize these men. They were all sailors, as evidenced by their exotic tattoos, but their uniforms belonged to no known navy, and their complexion and builds represented the four corners of the Earth. Conversing among each other in a bizarre tongue, they retrieve their luggage and hire two cabs, heading for the address indicated.-

-The leader of these men is dark-skinned and bearded, and it is he that casts the blackest looks around him. Through the windows of the cab his imperious gaze goes from the common beggar to banker, and finds them equally lacking. The cab arrives, and after unloading and paying the very surprised drivers with small discs of pure gold, the group looks around. There seems to be another man there already, an archetypal Englishman if there ever was one.-

-There is some further discussion, which the man in charge silences with a gesture. Any individual capable of not only guessing the existence of the Nautilus', but even to send it a message is a dangerous foe indeed. A threat of this magnitude is enough to make Captain Nemo break his most sacred vow; to never set foot on the soil of his most bitter enemy. Until that individual is identified, not one word will pass their lips.-

John Clayton, or as he more sincerely thought of himself was uncomfortable on several levels. First of course was that he did not like cites. He was and always would be, more comfortable in the jungle. Or in a forest. Or on a savannah. Anywhere that was truly alive and where the air did not reek worse than any rotting corpse. Second;ly, even though it was, technically his homeland, he did not want to be in England. He had given up his identity as Lord Greystoke and only the fact that the letter had been addressed to "John, Clayton, Lord Greystoke" had impelled him to come here.

edited 15th Jun '13 7:26:22 PM by tricksterson

Jack was happy, as could be seen by the smile on his face as he dressed, seemingly for his sunday best, he put on a long black coat, a tall hat, he sat down, putting on his shoes and walking to the window, jumpinh across the street and landing on his feet, sprinting down and looking for his next prey.

Erik was slightly confused when he received the invitation, as the date in the letter was 1974, but he decided that he would attend now , instead of a century in the future, as the date could have been a mistake.

He was suspicious about the invitation, as he knew it could quite possibly be a trap. Knowing this, he decided to use one of the windows to enter. He also was carrying some rope, in case of attack.

Svengali unwrapped a crumpled sandwich and ate it carefully as his eyes scanned the street, seeing other people apparently arrive and wait. He finished the second half and then looked behind him as he heard a familiar sound. He walked to the other end of the alley way and looked to see Jack running down the street. Not necessarily towards him, but it might be good to have his top enforcer with him. He stepped out of the alley and raised an eyebrow at the approaching serial killer.

Jack scowled at Svengali, turning. He was covered with fresh blood and had an almost feral look in his eyes.

"I hoped i would not see you tomight."

edited 16th Jun '13 10:35:49 AM by TroyandHawk

Tarzan's attention was drawn by Jack's running onto the scene. His eyes narrowed. the older, bearded man's mannerism reminded him of Ungo, the jackal and the other man, there was something of Dango the Hyena, about him but more than that, something, rabid. These two would bear watching.

"You should watch your tone, boy. Don't forget why you've not-" he began than looked over the area where Tarzan was, peering. "Come in here" he said, and beckoned Jack into the alley way, putting his sandwich in his inner pocket. "Do you recognise any of the people in front of that door?" he said quietly and motioned to the address the letter had been sent in.

"No. I do not. And do not speak to me as if I was your pet. Understood?"

Jack glared at him, two short Katars slid out of his sleeves and he looked at them.

"Should I kill them?"

Erik had been wary of the fellow in the long black coat ever since he noticed him. The man was like a barely restrained and vicious beast, .

The man had something    off    about him.....

It was barely surprising to him when the black coated man pulled out two punching daggers.

Jack looked around, notcing the figure in the mask.

"Someone's watching us."

Ignoring whatever Svengali said, he vanished into the shadows. Ready to slaughter the man in the white mask who was watching them.

edited 16th Jun '13 7:09:39 PM by TroyandHawk

Erik knew that the    black-coated man    knew he was watching him .

Almost as soon as the    man    started towards the shadows, Erik had recognized the look of murderous intent in the fiend's eyes and body language.

Erik went off and hid from the    evil-shaped-like-a-man    . He was very good at hiding.

"What? No. Well, maybe. Anyway it's, hey, wait where are you going" he hissed quietly but saw the mass murder leap out. He cursed silently and wondered why he expected anything different. Jack was one of hardest people to hypnotise, due to the fact he had a precedent for Attention Defecit Ooh Shiny for murdering people and would never listen to his careful words. Svengali fingered his cane and drew the sword out. It was a sleek rapier, and he held it carefully as he kept went back, looking for the men who had distracted his dog. He looked back and forth, wondering where he should focus on first then reversed his footing, slid his sword back in and bent over to pretend to be hobbling. He came out of the alley way to the men mingling around the doorway.

"Excuse me sirs, excuse me! I need your help" pleaded Svengali, some quick makeup making him look twenty years older than he looked as he gestured with his cane as if slightly mad. He resisted a start when he realised one of the men was Sherlock Holmes. The Devil was playing a fine tune this night for sure.

Jack stepped out of the shadows where he saw the man...However the watcher had disappeared. Damn. He leapt on to the roof, looking down at Svengali,

There were yellow eyes peering at    the monster of a man in the black coat    and the bearded man.

The pair of eyes continued to watch.

??????????

Jack watched, waiting for Svengali to signal that the men could be killed

See here.