[ Evie dresses herself. The only thing she ever asks for help with is her hair, and even then it's simply because it's easier to have a second pair of hands when pinning them at the back. None of her clothes is the fancy sort Angel is used to. In fact, Evie has bemoaned every dress and every corset she has ever had to wear.
But Angel seems distressed, although Jacob can't think why. He's seen enough women naked to know there are differences, important ones, but he can't see exactly what the problem is. Best not to think too long on it. ]
...Let me fetch someone.
[ And so he does. Of course, it's not until he's showing Ruthie back into the carriage that he wonders if Angel just wanted a few minutes alone in the carriage to nose around, but anything of any real importance Evie took with her. But Angel seems to be where Jacob left her, nothing moved, and so he makes his excuses to leave the ladies alone, and slips back into his own carriage for a quick, stiff drink. ]
[ There isn't another word for it: uncomfortable. When he brings someone else.
Jack's servants, they always looked down. Maybe because they knew there was something wrong with her. No respectable lady looked as she did. No respectable lady would have to be covered up in this kind of shame.
She held her coat tightly to her throat. Rising when Jacob and his... Friend? Came in. Despite his warnings, she bobs in greeting to them both.
Then he's gone, and at least the woman - Ruthie, she said her name was. Gets to business without much talking, and more than anything doesn't tell her anything like Jacob had. About this just being pants or about why it might be hard.
No, Ruthie does the best thing in the world, when she gets a look at Angel after helping her with the pins, the laces, the ties. The endless amount of hair pieces, flowers, ribbons. She looks at Angel once the last of the buttons and undone and she's just down to her smalls and a delta worth of blue markings that cover her entire left side with a whistle. Didn't know fine ladies had it in em. That's some nice work.
And Angel is so much brighter for it, a little bit more with every second. Taking eagerly to the pants, the waist coat - well Evie was shaped a little different, tighter on the hips looser on the chest. That wound be fine, she wasn't here to look good. Even if she was ready to part with the corset just yet.
So that when she finally sticks her head out, and Ruthie has finished her making look like a proper dodger, to use her term. Angel is much diminished in shape, no longer needing a meter in distance either side, hair no longer a hangman's worth of intricate braids on top of her head, instead black and loose, it falls down her shoulders. She's just a young woman, a little too thin, too pale, covered still from neck to wrist to ankle.
But at least one that was sensibly dressed. ]
So, uhm, do I look the part?
[ she grins at him a little, but for once it's sincere if shy. ]
[ Jacob doesn't understand and he won't gain any understanding from Ruthie either, at any point now or in the future. They don't break a confidence, his Rooks. He's proud of them for that. Thieves and brutes but they have honour.
He isn't waiting long for them both to reappear but he's nor expecting Angel to look so happy, so confident in unfamiliar and unladylike clothing. He stands when she puts her head around the door, pleased that she hasn't withdrawn into herself.
Maybe in a way, casting off those layers is casting off some of the fear of Jack, a little with every ribbon and every fold of petticoat.]
You look like you'd come raid a warehouse with me. But maybe not tonight, all things considered.
Thanks, Ruthie.
[ He adds as the girl passes them, her hand going to the brim of the bowler, tipping first to him and to Angel. ]
[ With that all done, she waves good-bye to Ruthie, waving her hand briefly and the brief promise of if she needed anything in exchange in the future.
It certainly was easier to walk around, she had to give that. When she drops back into a seat. Stretching out both her legs, looking down at them both. The boots not polished to a shine, but more serviceable then her dancing shoes. ]
I don't think I'd be much good for raiding warehouses. [ It's laughed, she doesn't mind it particularly. ] Climbing out of one window is enough for the night.
I wouldn't worry too much if I were you. By the time we get back to London, it'll be too light to do anything.
[He says, getting up off the chaise-lounge and moving towards the map of London that he'd taken from Evie's room when she left, hanging it up on the wall that used to be adorned with the faces of their targets. All gone, all dead.
But perhaps not all of them. There's Jack, and while the man doesn't frighten him, he needs to be dealt with. Angel will never be free otherwise.
He glances back, about to ask if she would prefer to be in a hotel than on the train, but there's no need to ask. She's asleep, stretched out, and it's all he can do to gently cover her with a blanket, and let her sleep off the excitement.]
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[ Evie dresses herself. The only thing she ever asks for help with is her hair, and even then it's simply because it's easier to have a second pair of hands when pinning them at the back. None of her clothes is the fancy sort Angel is used to. In fact, Evie has bemoaned every dress and every corset she has ever had to wear.
But Angel seems distressed, although Jacob can't think why. He's seen enough women naked to know there are differences, important ones, but he can't see exactly what the problem is. Best not to think too long on it. ]
...Let me fetch someone.
[ And so he does. Of course, it's not until he's showing Ruthie back into the carriage that he wonders if Angel just wanted a few minutes alone in the carriage to nose around, but anything of any real importance Evie took with her. But Angel seems to be where Jacob left her, nothing moved, and so he makes his excuses to leave the ladies alone, and slips back into his own carriage for a quick, stiff drink. ]
no subject
Jack's servants, they always looked down. Maybe because they knew there was something wrong with her. No respectable lady looked as she did. No respectable lady would have to be covered up in this kind of shame.
She held her coat tightly to her throat. Rising when Jacob and his... Friend? Came in. Despite his warnings, she bobs in greeting to them both.
Then he's gone, and at least the woman - Ruthie, she said her name was. Gets to business without much talking, and more than anything doesn't tell her anything like Jacob had. About this just being pants or about why it might be hard.
No, Ruthie does the best thing in the world, when she gets a look at Angel after helping her with the pins, the laces, the ties. The endless amount of hair pieces, flowers, ribbons. She looks at Angel once the last of the buttons and undone and she's just down to her smalls and a delta worth of blue markings that cover her entire left side with a whistle. Didn't know fine ladies had it in em. That's some nice work.
And Angel is so much brighter for it, a little bit more with every second. Taking eagerly to the pants, the waist coat - well Evie was shaped a little different, tighter on the hips looser on the chest. That wound be fine, she wasn't here to look good. Even if she was ready to part with the corset just yet.
So that when she finally sticks her head out, and Ruthie has finished her making look like a proper dodger, to use her term. Angel is much diminished in shape, no longer needing a meter in distance either side, hair no longer a hangman's worth of intricate braids on top of her head, instead black and loose, it falls down her shoulders. She's just a young woman, a little too thin, too pale, covered still from neck to wrist to ankle.
But at least one that was sensibly dressed. ]
So, uhm, do I look the part?
[ she grins at him a little, but for once it's sincere if shy. ]
no subject
He isn't waiting long for them both to reappear but he's nor expecting Angel to look so happy, so confident in unfamiliar and unladylike clothing. He stands when she puts her head around the door, pleased that she hasn't withdrawn into herself.
Maybe in a way, casting off those layers is casting off some of the fear of Jack, a little with every ribbon and every fold of petticoat.]
You look like you'd come raid a warehouse with me. But maybe not tonight, all things considered.
Thanks, Ruthie.
[ He adds as the girl passes them, her hand going to the brim of the bowler, tipping first to him and to Angel. ]
no subject
It certainly was easier to walk around, she had to give that. When she drops back into a seat. Stretching out both her legs, looking down at them both. The boots not polished to a shine, but more serviceable then her dancing shoes. ]
I don't think I'd be much good for raiding warehouses. [ It's laughed, she doesn't mind it particularly. ] Climbing out of one window is enough for the night.
no subject
[He says, getting up off the chaise-lounge and moving towards the map of London that he'd taken from Evie's room when she left, hanging it up on the wall that used to be adorned with the faces of their targets. All gone, all dead.
But perhaps not all of them. There's Jack, and while the man doesn't frighten him, he needs to be dealt with. Angel will never be free otherwise.
He glances back, about to ask if she would prefer to be in a hotel than on the train, but there's no need to ask. She's asleep, stretched out, and it's all he can do to gently cover her with a blanket, and let her sleep off the excitement.]