maudxlytton

[maudxlytton]

pollysheedy​:

It was easy, almost natural, in some ways, for Polly to slip out of notice. They’d been doing so for almost as long as they could remember, and it was one of their few gifts in the world. People looked over them, looked through them, didn’t see what was right in front of them, and Polly could use that. They had learned to work it in their favour, but it hadn’t always been so. At one time, it had been almost a curse. There were things about them that people didn’t see, the good bits that lay behind the outer shell. People didn’t want to notice Polly, didn’t want to be remind of that which they would rather ignore.

But then, there was Maude. 

The detective was everything Polly had always feared, authority and legality and everything of the like on her side. If they had never met her, Polly had no doubt that they would be afraid. They had been, at one point, but Maude had surprised them. Polly knew that Maude saw them, and not as the poor little waif from Whitechapel. Whilst most ignored that which was good about them, Maude turned a blind eye to that which was bad, and for that, Polly would never not be grateful. 

“Questions like ‘how’s your evening?’” they shot back, smile lighting up their face and chuckle escaping their lips. “S’all right, actually. There’s hot foot, the drinks okay, and I managed to make a bob when the barmaid needed a rest.” They looked proud of the fact, honest work being one of the more evasive things in their life. “What about you? I imagine you won’t be getting much rest tonight.” 

Maude chuckles with them, feeling her shoulders starting to relax a little. It was always a little bright around Polly, jokes were easier and laughing was not a distant thing. How Polly did that, Maude couldn’t know and she suspected they didn’t even knew their ability of making the world seem a bit better, nonetheless, Maude was grateful. They were a reminder of the existence of good things that had to be protected, it was so easy to fall into dark holes and become cold and distant, law and oaths becoming nothing more than mere words written on a paper.

❝ Work can be stressful sometimes” she answers evasively, not wanting to admit her tiredness. ❝ I’m glad you helped that barmaid, I was afraid of her collapsing. ❞  she admits, wincing while thinking of the deep shadows under that barmaid’s eyes. It was also good that Polly had earned a bit of money while helping ❝ After waiting for the morning to come, I’ll have to go back to the police station and then hopefully I’ll have a few hours to rest.” she explains already dreading the reports, she once enjoyed writing them, however lately they were distracting things. They were more fun when she had actually interesting things to report. ❝ Polly, I have to ask, have you seen or heard anything strange lately? Stranger than usual? ❞ Maude asks, her playfulness suddenly substituted by seriousness.

[maudxlytton]

closed starter for @vanexglorious​

location : the police station

time : early morning

Maude only hears the commotion too late, being immersed in her work as usual. Angrily looking at the door and the source of the noises, mumbles curses as she leaves the chair, her cheek and hands stained with and ink, crossing her office and angrily opening the door, the only thing stopping Maude from loudly cursing being her surprise. Staring at Ms Edevane and the scene before her, Maude can only smirk  as she watches several officers being intimidated by the woman, poor Mr Evans too scared to block or speak against Ms Edevane presence, but still forced to do his job and failing at that. If the man started crying, she wouldn’t feel surprised as she saw his eyes watering with despair.

She memorizes the scene, forever keeping it in her mind and thinking it’s a shame that she can’t laugh.

❝ Ms Edevane has an appointment with me officers, it seems that I have forgotten of making it known ❞ lying confidently, Maude gives them an excuse to escape, although they leave their presence so quickly that Maude has to cover her mouth to muffle her laugh. ❝ Please, come and thank you for scaring them. I hope they didn’t give you much trouble? ❞ she starts with small talk, opening the rest of the door for the woman to enter. ❝ Please, don’t mind the mess. ❞ Maude asked, as if noticing the piles and piles of notes, books and all sorts of scientific instruments and inventions.

[maudxlytton]

mvsquerade​:

❖

When Maude approaches her, Zoya can’t hide the surprise flickering across her features. And she’d thought they’d be dancing around each other all night—Zoya certainly planned on doing so. What was the point in re-opening old wounds? Why should she let Maude in when she made that mistake once? 

And here lies Maude’s mistake: Loving Zoya Fox, for she will never love you enough back. 

In the few moments it takes for Maude to reach her spot at the bar, Zoya debates treating Maude like a stranger and driving the knife back in, but she does not hate her that much. ( She might even be worried. Where crime happens, Maude follows, and the woman she once called dear is unstoppable. But if asked, she will deny any concern, and she has always been an excellent liar. ) She offers a tight smile instead, though it is quickly replaced by scowl when her former lover speaks.

“ It was dangerous then, and it’s dangerous now. What difference does it make? ” Zoya scoffs. Let Maude figure out what she means—putting the pieces together is her specialty, after all. And how close she came to figuring out the puzzle of Zoya Fox, only to fail.

“ Did you come here only to tell me what to do? ” Her voice bites; there are no pretenses here, no dulcet smiles and pretty lies. Even now, Maude would see through it. Even now, Zoya wants to pick up her mask despite the cracks there. Even now, she is stripped bare by a single sentence. “ Waste of time, I think—Surely you’ve more pressing matters to attend to tonight. ”

Maude cannot help but scoff at Zoya’s words, the way she diminished the killings as nothing more than a nuisance. Perhaps she was doing this on purpose, possessing the knowledge of how to push her buttons, or perhaps it was just Zoya. Maude would and could never know the truth of the woman in front of her, she had tried and regretted immensely, however Zoya was someone who took delight in lying to herself and to others, unknowingly or not.

She turns head, not wanting to look at her, smiling angrily not so dissimilar to a angry and cornered animal. The least she can do is observe as Zoya’s mask start to crack with anger, the action bringing her immense pleasure. If one wanted to be childish and retort with sharp comments, so be it.

❝ I cannot help but wonder if these words are the truth or a poor attempt of you trying to delude yourself of the current situation. ❞  she mumbles, storing away the shard of information that Zoya had so generously given her. ❝ Would you like me telling you what to do? ❞ she retorts already regretting her decision to come near Zoya. What foolishness Maude had in her head?

❝ My current pressing matters is my job and it requires that I ask some questions of you. If you have seen anything stranger than usual, you should tell me. Although It’s quite foolish of me to think you would have a desire to share information, Zoya. ❞ Maude doesn’t even glance at her lover’s direction, the surrounding crowd suddenly catching her interest, anything to be used as an excuse to not look into Zoya’s eyes.

[maudxlytton]

Séance Live Event 2 - 14.03.2021, 4pm - 7:30pm GMT

When: 11th September, 1888, late night Where: Baba Yaga’s Tent Led By: Baba Yaga Featuring: @hauntedyves, @ishmaelhassan, @lucianriviera, @treadboards, @mvsquerade, @maudxlytton​, @pollysheedy​

Transcript below the cut. The following has undergone minor edits for clarity and continuity’s sake.

Continuar lendo

[maudxlytton]

lucianriviera​

.

Lucian had always wondered how this moment would come about, several years they had been playing the game yet this moment was the first they had ever stood face to face. He’d only ever seen her from afar, biding his time and keeping his distance for the simple sake of his own self-preservation. But his curiosity had always nagged, always wanted to involve himself to know her better. Years of circling and testing the waters gave him a good foundation of knowledge, yet whenever either one of them moved they were parried back by the other. How many of his plots had she foiled? Too many to count, but enough that she had caught his attention. Not an easy feat for anyone.

But Maude Lytton was hardly anyone, she was miles apart from the rough and rabble that littered the street crawling over themselves for any means of advancement. Lucian had pulled himself from those dire depths and he wasn’t about to go back if he could help it. It was just as good he was wearing his nicer clothes today - a fine grey woollen coat over a tailored stiff-collared shirt and buffed black boots. A respectable outfit for a respectable gentleman. 

He pretended that he didn’t know acutely what she was doing, the intensity of her stare looking for the slightest flinch, committing every detail to memory should it be necessary. He knew what she was doing for it was something he did himself, but where Maude stared, Lucian absorbed information in subtle glances. Picking details to focus and hone in on that would make an individual remarkable to him if needed. It was a piercing gaze that most would look away from for fear of their souls revealing their secrets, but Lucian had constructed this persona long ago that he felt comfortable slipping into their shoes with but a moment’s notice.

“No Ma’am,” he agreed taking her hand with his own, the shake conveying an easy familiarity with the meaning of the ritual and a grip that was not overly tight nor lacking. It was the handshake of a man with self-belief and conviction, but the mindfulness to take others seemingly into his account. “Lucian Riviera,” he answered withdrawing his hand back to himself and noting the diversion of her attention. That was fine, he was certain what he had to say next would be more interesting to her. “I was wondering if I could ask after the boy–” he paused to let that sink in before elaborating, “I couldn’t help but overhear a few of your officers discussing him y’see. Billy Jones? Thing is I know the lad… See, it’d trouble me conscience if I didn’t ask after him if he’s in trouble.” 

Immediately after hearing Mr Riviera's worries about the boy, Maude's expression changes to something more open and relaxed. She remembers seeing the boy clutching his bloodied hand with a shocked expressions seconds before it turned to pain, mind too blank with fear to move to safety. She had helped him cross the street and then led him to the police station not knowing which one he was most frightened of, her or of the wound. Maude had suspicions that a wound of that type was less frightening than being a pickpocket inside a police station. Still she does what she can do, the wound is gently washed and medicine is given, she gives the boy one of her handkerchiefs to help clean the blood.

All attempts to scare the white pallor of his skin and glasslike eyes of someone who had suffered too much hardship for his few years.

His name had been offered apparently as a way to compensate for the handkerchief he had quickly stashed into his pockets.

Maude raises her head a little, too much distracted and hopes her attention slip isn’t noticed, which she doubts very much. A person who didn’t shy back or gave her a nervous smile when the target of one of her stares was someone who had guts at the very least. His handshake was something she noticed to be perfect way for a gentleman and yet he was absolutely someone who was used to work.

❝ Billy was kind enough to answer some questions, I sent for someone to do stitches and treat his injured hand ❞ she explains, remembering the deep gash on his palm, how it took very long for the blood to stop pouring. “ ❝ He’s in good health, just shocked by the event. Are you his caretaker by any chance? ❞ she asks as if wondering aloud, although she doesn’t hide her interest.

[maudxlytton]

theundertakcr​:

• • •

THE HAND ON their shoulder surprises them, but surprise for the undertaker has never quite taken the form of jumps and yells. Even in shock, they remain silent: the throat seizes briefly, the heart skips a beat, and the shoulders rise in time for but a moment. Maude Lytton’s form swims into view half a second later, and they calm considerably, realizing how lost in thought they must have been to experience shock over a friend’s touch. Rahat straightens up in her presence and watches as she takes the seat opposite them.

There is a fleeting urge to say something ( perhaps “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show,” or something of the like), but they hold their tongue, cognizant of how busy a night this must be for the detective. They let her speak, deciding to answer only once she is finished. Thankful though they are for being granted the chance to remain well and sober tonight, it is not this comment they choose to focus on. Their eyes move instead to have a look at the stain on Maude’s sleeve, and while there are questions, they do not ask any of them — at least, not straight away.

“Table salt, and cold water, never hot. Kerosene works as well,” they mutter matter-of-factly as they observe the browning spots. “I am certain those who do your washing for you will likely have tricks of their own.” They pause for a moment, silently figuring out the best way to phrase their first query. “Perhaps you can tell me how such a stain came about? I should very much like to hear the truth. Anything, really, about our situation tonight.“

Maude’s eyes catch the way her friend tenses with her touch and she immediately regrets her impulsive action. Of course Rahat would end being scared, anyone would if a person suddenly touched your shoulder while in stressful situation, Maude opens her mouth to apologize before closing it. The damage had been already done and poor Rahat almost ended having a heart attack. She calls the attention of the barmaid and points to their cup, silently asking for a refill and one for her. Maude uses these actions as excuses to ponder what should and should not be said for curious ears around them to hear. No doubt there would be abundant curiosity as Maude finally sat down to talk with the undertaker of all people.

If they were in a more private location, Maude would spill her mouth about theories and the wounded boy, how frustrating and horrifying to think women were still being killed and she failed yet again to find the responsible.

However they were not, so Maude waits for her cup to arrive and then takes a sip, wishing it was something stronger.

❝ I always try to deal with these situations myself as it would raise very, very bothersome questions ❞ she tells them a bit of the truth, it was better to attempt to clean the sleeve herself than to have to explain to the laundress why there was blood on the fabric. There not so many people Maude feared in life, however the woman in charge of cleaning her clothes was someone Maide would never want to gain her enmity or offend. That woman was simply terrifying.

She takes another sip of her drink and taps her fingers against the hard wood, she had promised herself a few moments to avoid stress and here she was, wondering who would hear what and the panic it could cause.

❝ I’m very sorry for the scare, I should have warned you” she firstly apologizes and very quickly glances at the people near her. ❝ I’ll fill you on the details later, but everything is fine, this was an accident where a child got hurt, not seriously, however there was blood. ❞ she explains very carefully, hoping that Rahat would understand her unspoken words.

[maudxlytton]

Séance Live Event 1 - 07.03.2021, 1am - 3am GMT

When: 7th September, 1888, late night  Where: Upstairs, The Britannia Pub  Led By: Muiris Doyle Featuring: @mvsquerade, @maudxlytton, @vanexglorious, @lucianriviera, @ishmaelhassan, @widowedwillow, @winniebao​, @theundertakcr​

Transcript below the cut. The following has undergone minor edits for clarity and continuity’s sake. 

Continuar lendo

[maudxlytton]

closed starter for @pollysheedy​

location : the britannia

time : late evening

Maude walks towards Polly, taking care to not show her relief. In some way, she felt that they wouldn’t accept her gladness of seeing them away from the dangerous streets very well. Maude's feelings towards Polly were of fierce protectiveness and amusement, for it was an easy thing to laugh when near them, the easiness of talking being one of traits she felt the most gratitude. Resting her back against the wall, she turns her head towards Polly, nodding in their direction as a greeting.

“How is your evening going? Besides the boredom, of course. And a certain detective asking yet more boring questions?” she pretends as if she wasn’t referring to herself and quickly glances at the bar, her throat suddenly parched for the alcohol and the knowledge that she would and could never drink while working. She starts tapping one finger against the cane, body too full of energy to stay in only one place and mind starting to tire.

[maudxlytton]

“Pretend I had nothing to do with you being here.”

She swallows the quick flash of hurt instantly, one thousand logical explanations to know how much reasonable Zoya’s words were, but still, it prickles Maude a little. She hides this with becoming too busy with buttoning her blouse and coat. It’s a strange thing for her to do, hiding her emotions and yet Maude chooses a bit of rebellion when she wraps an arm around Zoya’s waist and places a kiss on her lover’s neck before quickly walking away, the only proof of something strange being the warm smile decorating her mouth and twinkling eyes filled with mischief and something more.

“Very well, have a nice day, my dear friend” she stress one word above all and doesn’t look back when she closes the door, before walking down the stairs and leaving, Maude pauses briefly to put one of her gloves, knowing that the other had been left behind very strategically.

[maudxlytton]

“It’s a cool day. A speedy step keeps you warm in the wet London air.”

“I don’t mind the wet London air, actually.” she opens a smile full of teeth and hold his arm tightly. She purposely slower her steps, forcing both of them to walk very slowly and carefully. “Sometimes a gust of cold wind it’s the best way to clear a mind” she adds, cane in one hand, the welcoming tap-tap sound of it hitting the ground being the only noise around them for a few and long moments.

“And you Mr. Riviera do you also enjoy the cool air of London by any chance? Or do you prefer the calm and warm winds of the summer?” Maude asks, eyes looking around the scenery before them, apparently too distracted to pay attention to Lucian’s answer, of course, thinking in this way would be an enormous mistake.

[maudxlytton]

“Please! I’ll never hear the end of it if we are caught.”

She smiles at them, holding her laugh deep inside as to not cause more attention, the hilarity of the situation making it very difficult. Maude then opens the parasol and gives it to Polly, long tassels decorating it, providing shade and the best of all, inconspicuousness. She offers her left arm to Polly and discretely position her body in a way as to help hide them from view.

“Don’t worry, they will only see two strangers having a nice stroll in the afternoon” she whispers and starts to walk, voice breaking with the effort of not laughing. “After we escape, I promise to share the gin with you” seeing that both of them were distant, Maude finally cracks, the final result is she having to cover her mouth with a hand in a poor attempt of silencing her cackling.

[maudxlytton]

closed starter for @theundertakcr​

location : the britannia

time : late evening

When the crowd is too much and the answers she receives are so many that her head rings, Maude decides to find Rahat. She had seem them before, although too busy to have a decent dialogue before, Maude at least had attempted to catch their eyes in acknowledgment. Hours late and feeling not so dissimilar to a mouse in a cage, she goes to them, their presence a haven and an excuse to hide for a few minutes. Touching other people always had been mixture of discomfort and unease, with hugging being one of the worse gestures by far and yet, with people she liked, Maude realized that touching them would give her a grounding feeling. So, feeling a little guilty, Maude announces her presence with a light touch on their left shoulder, hoping to not scare them.

She sits on the chair across the table and although she wouldn’t let her guard down while working, Maude allows herself some leeway to not focus so much on her surroundings. She still is very aware of her ex lover, the worried man with slouched shoulders, the owner of the pub with frail nerves, the mysterious and calm woman, however Maude makes effort to put them on the background.

❝ Tell me, Rahat, do you have any tips for removing blood off garments? ❞ she asks in a low voice pointing to her bloodied sleeve, her amused tone slipping away from her serious expression. Already having noticed their non-alcoholic choice of drinks, Maude nods in the direction of the bar. ❝ I believe this will be one of the rare evenings where I won’t attempt to convince you to get drunk ❞

[maudxlytton]

The building is full enough to Maude think comparisons to a sardine can without feeling guilty. She shouldn’t feel nervous, being around so many people, she was always one to stand in the spotlight if that was required and yet, in the pub, she almost has a primitive instinct of watching every corner for invisible threats. Maude was too tired, head held high only by will alone, feeling as if something had scrubbed her mind raw and filled it with stones, if she were to be thrown into the river, Maude’s head would be cursed anchor and first thing to sink.

She walks around the pub, pausing to sometimes talk with the clientele, ask questions and if strange things were seen. In her mind, there’s a circle she must never cross and at its center is Zoya and her cursed perfume. So she wanders, observing every inch of the place, cane in hand because she was too distracted to take an umbrella and sleeve stained with the blood of a child who didn’t cry even when wounded.

Wanting to observe more of the building and be sure that everything is under control, Maude walks towards what she suspects it’s the basement, only to be stopped by a random man with a smile so sweet she immediately pictures molasses in her mind. Maude stares at him, eyes going up and down for anything interesting, her mind carving memories of how his shoulder slouch, the lines and bones of his face. All in an attempt to remember if she ever saw him before and if not, she most certanly will.

“I don’t believe we have met, sir. “ she ignores his request for a moment before extending her hand. “Your name is?” smiling a little Maude looks to the basement instead of him and then add seconds later “And how may I help you?” 

Déjà Brew: Maude & Lucian

The dust of the evening had barely settled before the rumours had begun to swirl as to why they had all been carolled at the Britannia. Some whispered of another murder had coloured the cobblestones crimson while others whispered that Jack had finally been caught. Lucian wasn’t so convinced on the latter, after all, why group people up in a rush if the killer had been caught.

There were several officers in the central bar some that looked more disgruntled than others to be here. It didn’t take him long carefully moving around the bar and discretely eavesdropping on their hushed conversations to pick up the gist of what had happened. Billy Jones. Caught putting his hands where they don’t belong and paid the price, thankfully a little blood was better than paying with the transgression with his life. It explained the frenzy, and the uncomfortable silence on why they had all been brought here.

He was leaning in the corner of the bar nursing a tankard of bitter ale when she arrived. A hush falling over the space as she all but glided through it. Most knew her by reputation alone. Detective Maude Lytton. A woman revered in whichever sphere she circled for her uncanny sense and ability to solve the seemingly unsolvable. No case was too much for her and she succeeded where all others failed. 

Lucian knew this woman almost as well as he knew his own self. Why? Because she was his very antithesis made flesh. Together they were the epitome of a living dichotomy. The day to his night. The order to his chaos. The union to his division. For the last ten years they had been caught in an intellectual battle of chess neither one could win. So when she entered Lucian’s attention immediately picked up. She’d not been engaged in the chase of late, but looking at her now he could tell there was a heavy distraction drawing her focus from their anonymous dalliance.

His eyes subtly tracked her as she made her way through the room towards Ish, who looked nervous and into the storage beyond. That wasn’t good, immediately he assembled a persona around himself and trailed a little way behind. Best to distract her just in case. There was no need for her to snoop around these rooms that she’d find anything of use. He cleared his throat an apologetic smile lightening his features humbleness stooping his shoulders as he grasped his hand in front of him to sell the disposition “ah– ‘scuse me Miss– apologies to bother you… I was wondering if I might beg a few moments of your time.”

@maudxlytton​

[maudxlytton]

closed starter for @mvsquerade​

location : the britannia

time: late evening

The first thing she notices is Zoya’s surprising presence in the pub. One holding her hat and the other her cane, Maude makes sure to avoid eye contact or worse, walk by her. An unmistakable feeling of anxiety and pettiness starts bubbling, the usual reactions after hearing Zoya’s name pronounced in her presence. Although this time, Maude needs to do more than ignoring her previous lover’s name, she has to actively pretend that nothing happened while working and stay inside the same building as that cursed woman.

There were so many things left unsaid, it was almost too much in normal circumstances and being locked inside a building in which Maude had the responsibility of both questioning and maintaining the safety of everyone, meeting Zoya after so many years was not ideal at all. She decides then, after a few seconds of logical thinking , that she will deal with the concoction of feelings later, much later.

This logical decision only lasts about three hours, each hour marked by a new worry, a new doubt that needed answering and if Maude had a terrible weakness, it was her tendency to not let dangerous matters laid to rest. She slowly approaches Zoya, chin held high and lungs filled with that lovely floral perfume that she knew so well. A quiet voice whispers that this is such a bad idea, how unlucky and lucky she was, the pieces of hope Maude shattered so dearly threatening to cut her yet again.

❝ You shouldn't be here, Zoya. It's too dangerous, you know that. ❞ she maintains what she thinks a safe distance, too close and too far for her liking, the only proof of her discomfort being how her hand clutches the cane, whitened fingertips contrasting against the black wood.

[maudxlytton]

bio // pinterest // skeleton

Chaotic lesbian inspired by Sherlock Holmes.

Be warned if you mess with her, she will hit you with a parasol or a walking cane depending on the time of the day. If you’re her friend she will share the alcohol hidden in both.

Therapy? Healthy habits that help her deal with trauma and stress? Of course not, she will ignore them and hope for the best.

Has a past that is comprised of 40% of people she punched, 40% of people she investigated and 20% of her exes. Consequently not many people like her very much, mainly the high society.

Nowadays she is much more peaceful and will think before making an important decision, most of the times.

Is an intellectual and can be easily seem reading something, be it a mystery novel, poetry or a investigation report. Sometimes both, but very rarely.

Has a very strong sense of justice and she abhors the opinion of a black and white world. She is always open for discussion, but if in said discussion someone attempts to convince her of allowing powerful people to exploit or harm people that only want to survive in any way, she will very, very strongly disagree.

Fingertips are always stained with ink, no matter how much she is careful. For that matter, unfortunately, her books are always stained with ink too.

[maudxlytton]

[maudxlytton]

“Touch me. With your finger. Softly. My scent on your neck. Open your lips. Taste.”