cartergetsyou | 3. voice

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floods

3. voice

[The voice is similar to Carter's, but older, rougher, and even more East Ender. That he's switched the communicator on at all is blind luck.]

—got an investigation to get back to! Who's in charge here, I'd like to know?

[Say hello to Carter's flood replacement, Inspector Fred Abberline. He was the fellow who headed up the Jack the Ripper investigation back in the day (and was played by Michael Caine in a 1988 TV movie). He's taken from shortly before Mary Jeanette Kelly's murder, in early November 1888.]

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An investigation! Well isn't that exciting. Are you a detective, then?

[All smiles and bubbly demeanor; meet Sally, Abberline. ...Pretty much the exact opposite of Rorschach in ALL WAYS.]

[Oh dear god what. Not even a Whitechapel tart shows THAT much skin.]

Inspector Frederick Abberline of Scotland Yard ... miss.

[Welcome to 1938! She's *independent*. ...Which apparently translates to "dresses like a hooker but doesn't put out as easily".]

...Sally. Please, call me Sally. [Primping and posing while trying to seem demure, and have some cleavage, Abberline. She knows you want it.]

Scotland Yard? You're a little far from home, aren't you? Nice to meet you. So what are you investigating, if you don't mind my asking? ...I do a little of that myself sometimes.

[Mustn't stare. Mustn't stare. Mustn't ... damn it, woman.]

Murder, miss. Some ladies come to an end they didn't deserve.

[His brain has more or less filtered out the "I do a little of that", because that simply doesn't fit into his mental paradigm. At all.]

[Sally seems pleased by the attention, not that she'll call attention to it.

She pulls a face and looks appropriately distraught when he mentions murder, though; okay, that's not really her forte.]

Well that's horrible! I hope you find the man responsible. Although, when anyone's murdered can you really say they deserved it?

Not at all, miss. It's my sincere hope we find him as well, because he's a monster and no mistake.

Well I'm sure you'll catch him soon enough, most nasty pieces of work like that don't last long.

[A dismissive handwave and an amused smile.]

Oh, there's no need to be so stiff, Investigator, like I told you, Sally works just fine; I work with a bunch of overgrown boys for a living, I promise not to tell anyone if you relax your manners just a little.

[Sally you are breaking his brain.]

...What is it you do for a living, miss?

These days? I'm Silk Specter, sorry, I thought you knew.

[All the chagrined, although come on. She's in the papers, how don't you know this? And unlike most of them she makes NO attempt to conceal her identity. At all.]

Silk ...? Beg pardon, miss, there's no one I know of that name.

[It sounds like the nickname for a tart, except it's not one he's ever heard. Of course, she sounds American, so maybe she's, ahem, "famous" in New York or something.]

Well, if you're overseas I guess I can't really blame you.

I'm a crime-fighter. A "costumed adventurer," I think is how one of my friends puts it. We all have different names we use when we're on-duty, and that's mine.

[Please, she doesn't do that anymore.]

Sounds like something out of one of those French novels or something. Begging your pardon, miss, but there's nothing like that where I'm from.

I didn't think they had any overseas. Which, if you ask me, is a shame; just imagine, us all over? An international sensation. Wouldn't that be great?

[...And the helping too. It's not all about the fame and popularity. Really. ...Only mostly.]

...there's men and ladies both that do what you do? Or just ladies?

[She laughs at the question, because really, now.]

...I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh, but here I was thinking most people thought it was a boy's game! Two of us are girls, the rest are all men.

That would be The Admiral, I suppose? I've yet to fully understand this strange ship.

A ship, is it? Looks more like a factory crossed with a grand hotel.

I... had been told it was a ship. It looked like a ship when I last ventured from my room

What in the Blight is happening here?

...Nah, I reckon you're right. A ship. Not like any ship I've ever seen though, that's for certain.

As for what's happening, I'd like to know that myself. Inspector Abberline, Scotland Yard. And you are?

It certainly is a sight, isn't it? I've never seen one like it myself.

There are more questions than answers, from what I can gather. Though that one I can answer; Anders is my name.

And what's your business here?

I wish I could tell you. I was brought here after a rather ... unfortunate event. I've yet to be told what is expected of me, here.

Bit rude of 'em to drop you here without so much as a word of explanation or by-your-leave.

Somehow I don't think Good Manners are on the list of those pulling the strings around here.

Oooo, Inspector Abberline, that's familiar! I'm Molly from the Ten Bells. I don't know much at all about what's going on, but I've found a spot to pull pints in should you need refreshment!

Molly! Course I remember you, luv. There's a pub here, then?

There is. Top floor in the locked area, but I have a sort-of key. They have odd machines that make one's coffee. And another one plays this funny sort of music.

I've been sorting it all out...a pub's a pub in the end. Come by if you like and I'll pour a hot drink into you.

Much obliged. Once I've had a look around, I'll be along, I reckon. Strange place this is.

[And indeed, a few hours later, he's knocking on the door of the pub.]

It is. That's why I settled in at the pub. It's familiar. And pouring a drink into people is generally a good way to learn things.

[She comes out to greet him, all smiles and black curls bouncing around her shoulders.] Oh, please, come in. I just finished cleaning up. Her Majesty is here! She's going to visit! I do hope I got the place clean enough.

[The entire place smells of lemon oil. She had been busy.]

I saw she was here. Didn't half do me a turn, I don't mind telling you. [Looks around, appraisingly.] Nice place, I must say. Nothing like I'd have expected, but then nothing here's what I wild have expected. [Sigh.] 's all very well, I suppose, but I've got work to do. Still, this'll pass the time, if nothing else.

It does all right. But drinking in here one does not know what to try first! [She does a little spin, curls bouncing.]

Well, pardon me for saying so, but if I were puzzling out a great and deadly mystery a quiet place to think would sometimes be in order. And it does seem that many men do their best thinking over a cup or a pint.

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3. voice

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