City of Heroes: Live Forum Archive

Extracts from the Journals of Miss Honeysuckle Weeks

ChristopherRobin

By ChristopherRobin,
Posted on: 2011-09-11 07:19 in Multi-Media Fan Creations

 

Posted

Inspired by the new and quite inspiring CoH steampunk pack, the following presentation (in several parts) hopes to offer heroes everywhere a mild diversion in their busy lives of saving the world and such things, and hopefully explain how a few of the steam fellows ended up in Paragon City:
~
Part 1.

It was a triangle; William Pears, the reluctant heir to an international perfume and personal hygiene business, Agnes his brittle, long-suffering "mad wife in the attic" and Miss Honeysuckle Weeks, a decidedly unconventional and strong-willed fil de joie.

The intense affair with Pears gave Miss Weeks the opportunity to climb to a higher perch in the rigidly stratified class system of the time, in time becoming an independently wealthy and respected society lady. However, partially due to the skills she had acquired and the leverage a mysterious gentleman had concerning her background, Miss Weeks was approached by "C" and recruited into the far murkier world of HM Secret Service.

The London in which Miss Weeks now found herself was a bad laudanum dream, both a physical and moral maze, a warren of squalid gas-lit streets marked with odd visions: a grubby angel with swan's wings, prowling vampires, Robur's Franco-flying machines, eruptions of spirit manifestations, a crow headed robed figure, an emaciated demon dying on a cobbled backstreet, Releaux's Prussian-engineered machine men, there was even a madly cackling old woman to decorate the scenes - a popular gothic accessory you can normally take as a failure of imagination but here something would be missing without one. Armed with her formidable will and her fencing prowess, Miss Weeks threads her way past squealing piglets, obese slatterns and urinating doxies in this the latest of her undercover assignments.

~

The Blind Beggar Public House was crowded, heaving with bodies, the drone of conversation, raucous bursts of laughter, a heavy fugg of smoke and the smells of beer, gin and sweat. It was a favourite rendezvous of Jack's and a hub of East End underworld gossip. He was sitting in his usual booth, entertaining a giggling couple of working girls with his oh-so clever anecdotes. "Blackheath," she said by means of diverting his attention. She didn't take a seat.

"Miss Weeks!" he replied, "You are well I trust?"

"Thank you," she responded icily. The pair of strumpets cast her the most disdainful looks of scorn they could muster and sidled away, back into the clamour of the pub.

"Would you care for a drink?" he asked.

"We really haven't time for fripperies, Blackheath, it will take us a while to travel out to Long Acre."

"Ah, but we have use of my new motor-carriage, I estimate we can reach our destination in less than half of one hour."

"Your motor-carriage," she said, tonelessly. "How wonderful."

"Your wield your sarcasm as you do your finely honed blades, Miss Weeks," Blackheath scooped up his hat and cane and offered her the crook of his arm. "Shall we?"

~

Extracts from the Journals of Ms Honeysuckle Weeks, 23rd - 31st Oct, 1904.

23rd Oct '04: I'd been introduced to James "Jack" Blackheath some months ago. He was a well know figure in London society circles, fancying himself as something of a raconteur, wit and gentleman about town... gossip had it that he was a member of the notorious Medmenham Hellfire Club, a cad, a bounder and apparently a dab hand at baccarat. I put forward the recommendation to "C" that he engage Blackheath to His Majesty's Secret Intelligence Bureau, it seemed a perfect marriage.


to be continued.....

 

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Quote:
Originally Posted by ChristopherRobin View Post
I say, good show!

Great first post SH-Jack and I await further story updates with interest.
Oh and welcome to the best part of the forums.

thank you very much, old chap , pleased to have found the place & further instalments below!

 

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Part 2.
James "Jack" Blackheath, Agent Six His Majesty's Secret Intelligence Bureau... Spring-Heeled Jack!


 

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Part 3.
"C" allocated Blackheath the service codename "Spring-Heeled Jack" after his penchant for free running through London's smog-blanketed rooftops, a swordstick, a pair of Webley service revolvers and a sawn-off blunderbuss being more to Blackheath's taste than the legendary Jack's rather ungentlemanly supernatural doings, mind.

It was the evening of the 23rd when "C" informed us that the Bureau had lost contact with Burnes and Younghusband, and so was assigning Blackheath and I to take up the investigations into the cases of "Outrage at the Old Forge" and "the Red Barn Murders".


 

Posted

Part 4.
The Old Forge was in Long Acre and upon our arrival it was something of a surprise to encounter representatives of the Prussian Secret Intelligence Services, accompanied as they were, by some remarkable, but rather oily, clockwork Maschinenmensch.

After a brief, rather embarrassing misunderstanding and a bit of a to do, we managed to smooth the waters with the Prussians and with the welcome assistance of Herr Doktor Reuleaux and his machine-men, we uncovered a trail in the mysteries which seemed to unwaveringly point in the direction of Ireland. It pointed, more precisely, to the residence of the Marquis of Waterford, Curraghmore House... but it also...