[ He knows the corner she means, knows the pub she means. He's had a pint there himself. He's had a pint in most places in London. At least one pint, in truth.
But that area is busy. He's fairly sure that he can get in without being recognised, and get what needs to be done done.]
You can pass that information on to me? When he's going to be there? Don't much fancy going all the way up to York if he's going to be in my neighbourhood.
[ She nods - and for all she has been afraid, is afraid - there is something of that reputation there. There is a surety to her, of what she can do, what she knows how to do, and how unerringly she can move pieces when she needs to. ]
I will send a runner when I know. I won't be able to come myself, Jack will...
[ There doesn't have to be an elaboration there. ] Where is the best place for them to meet you?
[ Jacob nods, the answer an obvious one. Somewhere busy, somewhere convenient, somewhere that will get him to Picidilly quickly, as soon as he gets word of Wilheim being in town. ]
Under the clock at Waterloo station. Sometime around dusk.
[ He pauses, considering her again ] If you are in London, and you need me, you send for me, alright? A plan is all well and good, but if you need me, the plan goes out of the window.
[ Because something about this girl worries him. Not about her, despite her reputation. He knows that she's dangerous, this could all be a trap but if it isn't? Then her blood is on his hands. All she wants is out.]
[ It catches her off guard. She doesn't expect people to care about her. She expects men to want her, they always do. The way you put a special ornament on the shelf. She expects other women to not pay much attention to another woman on the circuit. She expects Templars to be proud of their weapon, and Assassin's to want her dead.
She doesn't expect Jacob Frye to care about her. To want to more than what is best for him and his own. Angel would be as naive as Jack accused her of being if she really didn't know what he probably thought of her until this moment. ]
Oh -
[ Paused, it's different to when he'd crept out of the shadows, or Jack's voice startling her - her eyes are wide, and in the dim light, her too white skin goes steadily pink.
Gallant, she thinks again and realises she is being silly, as the smile spreads on her face - until it's suddenly blindingly earnest. ]
[ Jacob would love to believe her. He'd love to have enough faith to believe that if that man hurt her, she would fight back, that she would defend herself with every skill and breath she had. But he's seen the way she cowered in his presence, shrunk away from his touch. She'd let that man kill her before she did anything to stop him, Jacob is sure of that.
He's sure too that telling her that his father was a bastard won't help. For a start, he doesn't seem as bad as hers, by a long way. It won't help, it will just add insult to injury.
No, best not. ]
Alright. The offer is there. Always.
[ And with that, he touches the brim of the top hat, and leaves via the thick undergrowth, mulling over the strange revelations of the evening.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ He knows the corner she means, knows the pub she means. He's had a pint there himself. He's had a pint in most places in London. At least one pint, in truth.
But that area is busy. He's fairly sure that he can get in without being recognised, and get what needs to be done done.]
You can pass that information on to me? When he's going to be there? Don't much fancy going all the way up to York if he's going to be in my neighbourhood.
no subject
I will send a runner when I know. I won't be able to come myself, Jack will...
[ There doesn't have to be an elaboration there. ] Where is the best place for them to meet you?
no subject
Under the clock at Waterloo station. Sometime around dusk.
[ He pauses, considering her again ] If you are in London, and you need me, you send for me, alright? A plan is all well and good, but if you need me, the plan goes out of the window.
[ Because something about this girl worries him. Not about her, despite her reputation. He knows that she's dangerous, this could all be a trap but if it isn't? Then her blood is on his hands. All she wants is out.]
no subject
She doesn't expect Jacob Frye to care about her. To want to more than what is best for him and his own. Angel would be as naive as Jack accused her of being if she really didn't know what he probably thought of her until this moment. ]
Oh -
[ Paused, it's different to when he'd crept out of the shadows, or Jack's voice startling her - her eyes are wide, and in the dim light, her too white skin goes steadily pink.
Gallant, she thinks again and realises she is being silly, as the smile spreads on her face - until it's suddenly blindingly earnest. ]
Thank-you. I'll be fine, I promise.
no subject
He's sure too that telling her that his father was a bastard won't help. For a start, he doesn't seem as bad as hers, by a long way. It won't help, it will just add insult to injury.
No, best not. ]
Alright. The offer is there. Always.
[ And with that, he touches the brim of the top hat, and leaves via the thick undergrowth, mulling over the strange revelations of the evening.]