Penny #36
Title: “Circles on the TfL Network”
Author/Artist: Scriptator
Fandom: Concarnadine (original)
Rating: Probably NC13
Prompt: #080 “Under Pressure”
Warnings: Do not try this at home.
Disclaimer: Everyone in here is an Original Character. Please ask before borrowing.
Breakfast over, Penny went to reclaim Tiger from Sandy Miniver, taking with her a spare box of cat-food as part-compensation for Sandy’s efforts on her behalf.
She supposed she had vaguely hoped that, by the time she got back from Sandy’s, Dee Rosenorth would have quietly gathered her things and gone, back to Kensall. But it was not to be.
“W- What are we going to do ?”
“I’m going to work,” Penny said: “I have a living to earn. What about your editor ?”
“Oh, ‘Tumult’ take stuff as and when I send it in. Well, when I say ‘take’, I mean ‘consider’ - quite a lot of my stuff gets sent back. But when I mentioned your case to my editor, he seemed quite interested.”
Penny schooled her face to show no reaction … but this was starting to look like she might be being targeted. And, if so, Max Levin needed to know, for Adrian’s sake.
Penny fed Tiger and smoothed down the blanket in his kitty-bed and made sure there was fresh water and a catnip mouse for him.
“Well, I’m going in a minute, so unless you fancy being locked in with the cat … “
“I’ll … I’ll get my stuff.”
Not that there was much to get - her shoulder bag, her shoes, and her coat.
Then it was opening the front door time … and watching Dee flinch at the possibilities. But there seemed to be no-one watching the flats, and Penny set off to the station.
“How you get home I don’t know,” she said: “But the Overground line from Shadwell might take you.”
Fortuitously that proved the case: with only one change of train, Dee could go through to one of the two Kensall stations. Less fortuitous, however, was the sudden appearance of the slab-faced Paradmant, appearing out a suspiciously-deep patch of shadow filling a small alleyway just across the road. Thankfully, Penny saw him first, so Dee’s panicked gasp didn’t take her by surprise, and she had had enough time to plan her response.
“Go down,” Penny urged Dee (It was contrary to logic, Penny mused, but the London Overground line at Shadwell, was underground, a legacy of the days when it was the East London Extension of the Tube). “I’ll come with you till we’re away. He won’t dare follow us.”
Penny made it sound as confident as she could: for all that she knew, the creature would just teleport onto the train to reach them. Which was another question: exactly what was the Paradmant’s purpose ? Was he after Penny herself, who’d been in the Park ? Or after Dee, who had been Asking Questions (though nothing specifically to do with Paradmants) ? Or was he simply happening to be where Dee, and now Penny, was ?
At that time of the morning, there were good services: the two of them had barely been on the platform for ninety seconds and there was no sign of the Paradmant, who would, in any event, Penny reasoned, have had to negotiate the ticket-barrier without any sort of pass (and presumably also without the money to buy a ticket), when a north-bound train came in and they got on. Penny stayed with Dee Rosenorth to Highbury, where they were both going to change: Dee for Kensall, and Penny for the Underground back into the City, to see what Max and Adrian had in mind (and to see whether Sergeant Flavour had any more news of Phillipson).
Penny was just settling onto a seat on the Victoria Line at Highbury when a movement caught her attention. For a second or two she thought that it was another of the witch-girls, which would have raised the immediate question of how they knew that she would go to Highbury that particular morning, and not into the Bank on the DLR, but then she realised that it was Dee Rosenorth, slipping onto the train a carriage behind her, at the last possible instant.
Penny debated making an issue out of it, but decided not to - there was the outside chance that Dee had legitimate business in Central London, and felt this out-weighed the ‘going-home-getting-a-shower-and-fresh-clothes’ option.
But when Penny changed trains at Kings Cross and glimpsed Dee from the corner of her eye, trying to follow her unobtrusively, it was clear that more was going on than Penny had allowed for.
Still, there was a humorous possibility inherent in all this, and she pretended not to notice.
And she didn’t see Dee when she walked through the tunnel from the Monument to Bank and out onto the street.
Adrian and Max Levin both expressed themselves pleased with Penny’s efforts.
“I’ve already taken both your analyses into account, Pen - possibility of small bonus if the deal with the Panamanians goes down. How do you fancy researching mineral extraction in Fiji ?”
There wasn’t time for much more with Adrian (which didn’t exactly surprise Penny), but Max Levin was more fulsome.
“We’ve had the first indications that you may be being watched,” he said: “Some-one put through three orders based on your dealings with Solme - we’re just waiting to see if there’s more when you put in this week’s orders.” He passed her an envelope. “That’s why this week’s will be neutral trades. But we’ll make the difference up in a direct transfer to your account.”
Penny told him about Dee Rosennorth - well, up to her hysteria and the slab-faced man that morning.
“I can’t tell exactly what line of enquiry she’s following,” she admitted; “But I’m telling her nothing. She followed me halfway here on the Tube, but since she already knows where I work … “
“If she’s free-lance,” Max said, “then there isn’t an editor we can put pressure onto. You are sure that she is nothing to do with Imago ?”
“She says that they are part of what she’s investigating.”
“Leave it with me.” He paused. “And your friends at the theatre ?”
“You should take in a performance,” Penny told him. “Adrian would enjoy it, but he’s too busy.”
“Tell me about it,” Max groaned.
From there Penny headed to the Frencham, via Solme’s cramped office. Hallie was back, and she and Emma were elbow-deep in Ukrainian grain futures, so Penny left them to get on with it. The Fijian stuff she sub-contracted to Nanesha and one of the front-office girls.
“Pull the raw data and see what you can get out of it. I’ll come in again tomorrow, and I’ll have a look, and we can compare notes.”
“All right, Penny. Could you look at this for me ?” Nanesha passed over a medium-plump envelope. “It’s not for LeGrange: it’s for a Covent Garden firm - how they heard of us, I have no idea - and it’s a bit outside the norm.”
“I’ll take it with me,” Penny said.
She was walking out of the Frencham Building, when she noticed glowing lines on the floor. Noticed them with her inner sight - the one that normally showed her the magic which Concarnadine and Elizabeth employed. Immediately she stopped and looked more closely. The lines looked ….unhealthy. They were purple and sickly green, they swirled when she wasn’t looking directly at them, there seemed to be … symbols … at intervals, and she was sure that she’d seen something like them involved in Ranyer Mortimer’s warding circle. Not that Penny thought that Mortimer had put these lines there, but unless his magic and witch-magic were utterly different …
Time to leave via the back doors again - except that there were glowing lines in an arc round the outside.
But Penny knew there was a service entrance to the building, where they took the trash (or in politically correct terms, the recycling) out and brought the restroom supplies in. And that wasn’t warded.
Penny was going to head for the Durbar, but decided that it might not be a good idea, if “they” were looking for her. So, instead, she caught the Tube to Blackfriars and went to see if Mr. Fitz-Lawrence was there.
“Oh, dear - and you’re sure about this ? That they’re Paradmants, I mean ?”
“I’ve only seen one … well, three at Mr. Mortimer’s, but only one here in London. But it looked exactly like the other ones.”
“Mmmnn.” FitzLawrence made a humming sound in his throat. “This sort of thing is, of course, far more Mortimer’s field than mine - he guards the Gate, I the Cup. His role is to control access to our frame of existence from others; mine fundamentally to minister within our frame.” Then he raised his head from reverie: “But, you, my dear, clearly are in need of ministry. Not, perhaps from the Grail itself.”
He went over to a wall-cupboard, opened it, and took out a black box, such as might have been for a necklace. He put it down, and opened it, and Penny saw a jumble of silver items. With a long finger, Fitz-Lawrence poked through the contents until finally he fixed on one item - a small medallion, which he withdrew and offered to her.
“Here - this will neither protect you, nor call aid to your side. What it will do is to offer you a route of peace in times of turmoil. Place it next your skin, touch it gently, and open your mind.”
Slightly doubtfully, Penny did as the elderly man suggested. And, suddenly, a memory was brought back, crystal-clear, to her mind - a summer’s day, somewhere high on the Yorkshire moors, on a holiday with her parents; a bright day, bell-clear, short tussocky grass, interspersed with heather; a shimmering stream, blinding bright beneath the sun, bubbling and swirling in its stony bed, tinkling and burbling to give a background sound-track to the day. And ginger-beer and salmon-paste sandwiches, and hours to eat them in, and drink in the clear air, and not to fret about anything at all.
Author/Artist: Scriptator
Fandom: Concarnadine (original)
Rating: Probably NC13
Prompt: #080 “Under Pressure”
Warnings: Do not try this at home.
Disclaimer: Everyone in here is an Original Character. Please ask before borrowing.
Breakfast over, Penny went to reclaim Tiger from Sandy Miniver, taking with her a spare box of cat-food as part-compensation for Sandy’s efforts on her behalf.
She supposed she had vaguely hoped that, by the time she got back from Sandy’s, Dee Rosenorth would have quietly gathered her things and gone, back to Kensall. But it was not to be.
“W- What are we going to do ?”
“I’m going to work,” Penny said: “I have a living to earn. What about your editor ?”
“Oh, ‘Tumult’ take stuff as and when I send it in. Well, when I say ‘take’, I mean ‘consider’ - quite a lot of my stuff gets sent back. But when I mentioned your case to my editor, he seemed quite interested.”
Penny schooled her face to show no reaction … but this was starting to look like she might be being targeted. And, if so, Max Levin needed to know, for Adrian’s sake.
Penny fed Tiger and smoothed down the blanket in his kitty-bed and made sure there was fresh water and a catnip mouse for him.
“Well, I’m going in a minute, so unless you fancy being locked in with the cat … “
“I’ll … I’ll get my stuff.”
Not that there was much to get - her shoulder bag, her shoes, and her coat.
Then it was opening the front door time … and watching Dee flinch at the possibilities. But there seemed to be no-one watching the flats, and Penny set off to the station.
“How you get home I don’t know,” she said: “But the Overground line from Shadwell might take you.”
Fortuitously that proved the case: with only one change of train, Dee could go through to one of the two Kensall stations. Less fortuitous, however, was the sudden appearance of the slab-faced Paradmant, appearing out a suspiciously-deep patch of shadow filling a small alleyway just across the road. Thankfully, Penny saw him first, so Dee’s panicked gasp didn’t take her by surprise, and she had had enough time to plan her response.
“Go down,” Penny urged Dee (It was contrary to logic, Penny mused, but the London Overground line at Shadwell, was underground, a legacy of the days when it was the East London Extension of the Tube). “I’ll come with you till we’re away. He won’t dare follow us.”
Penny made it sound as confident as she could: for all that she knew, the creature would just teleport onto the train to reach them. Which was another question: exactly what was the Paradmant’s purpose ? Was he after Penny herself, who’d been in the Park ? Or after Dee, who had been Asking Questions (though nothing specifically to do with Paradmants) ? Or was he simply happening to be where Dee, and now Penny, was ?
At that time of the morning, there were good services: the two of them had barely been on the platform for ninety seconds and there was no sign of the Paradmant, who would, in any event, Penny reasoned, have had to negotiate the ticket-barrier without any sort of pass (and presumably also without the money to buy a ticket), when a north-bound train came in and they got on. Penny stayed with Dee Rosenorth to Highbury, where they were both going to change: Dee for Kensall, and Penny for the Underground back into the City, to see what Max and Adrian had in mind (and to see whether Sergeant Flavour had any more news of Phillipson).
Penny was just settling onto a seat on the Victoria Line at Highbury when a movement caught her attention. For a second or two she thought that it was another of the witch-girls, which would have raised the immediate question of how they knew that she would go to Highbury that particular morning, and not into the Bank on the DLR, but then she realised that it was Dee Rosenorth, slipping onto the train a carriage behind her, at the last possible instant.
Penny debated making an issue out of it, but decided not to - there was the outside chance that Dee had legitimate business in Central London, and felt this out-weighed the ‘going-home-getting-a-shower-and-fresh-clothes’ option.
But when Penny changed trains at Kings Cross and glimpsed Dee from the corner of her eye, trying to follow her unobtrusively, it was clear that more was going on than Penny had allowed for.
Still, there was a humorous possibility inherent in all this, and she pretended not to notice.
And she didn’t see Dee when she walked through the tunnel from the Monument to Bank and out onto the street.
Adrian and Max Levin both expressed themselves pleased with Penny’s efforts.
“I’ve already taken both your analyses into account, Pen - possibility of small bonus if the deal with the Panamanians goes down. How do you fancy researching mineral extraction in Fiji ?”
There wasn’t time for much more with Adrian (which didn’t exactly surprise Penny), but Max Levin was more fulsome.
“We’ve had the first indications that you may be being watched,” he said: “Some-one put through three orders based on your dealings with Solme - we’re just waiting to see if there’s more when you put in this week’s orders.” He passed her an envelope. “That’s why this week’s will be neutral trades. But we’ll make the difference up in a direct transfer to your account.”
Penny told him about Dee Rosennorth - well, up to her hysteria and the slab-faced man that morning.
“I can’t tell exactly what line of enquiry she’s following,” she admitted; “But I’m telling her nothing. She followed me halfway here on the Tube, but since she already knows where I work … “
“If she’s free-lance,” Max said, “then there isn’t an editor we can put pressure onto. You are sure that she is nothing to do with Imago ?”
“She says that they are part of what she’s investigating.”
“Leave it with me.” He paused. “And your friends at the theatre ?”
“You should take in a performance,” Penny told him. “Adrian would enjoy it, but he’s too busy.”
“Tell me about it,” Max groaned.
From there Penny headed to the Frencham, via Solme’s cramped office. Hallie was back, and she and Emma were elbow-deep in Ukrainian grain futures, so Penny left them to get on with it. The Fijian stuff she sub-contracted to Nanesha and one of the front-office girls.
“Pull the raw data and see what you can get out of it. I’ll come in again tomorrow, and I’ll have a look, and we can compare notes.”
“All right, Penny. Could you look at this for me ?” Nanesha passed over a medium-plump envelope. “It’s not for LeGrange: it’s for a Covent Garden firm - how they heard of us, I have no idea - and it’s a bit outside the norm.”
“I’ll take it with me,” Penny said.
She was walking out of the Frencham Building, when she noticed glowing lines on the floor. Noticed them with her inner sight - the one that normally showed her the magic which Concarnadine and Elizabeth employed. Immediately she stopped and looked more closely. The lines looked ….unhealthy. They were purple and sickly green, they swirled when she wasn’t looking directly at them, there seemed to be … symbols … at intervals, and she was sure that she’d seen something like them involved in Ranyer Mortimer’s warding circle. Not that Penny thought that Mortimer had put these lines there, but unless his magic and witch-magic were utterly different …
Time to leave via the back doors again - except that there were glowing lines in an arc round the outside.
But Penny knew there was a service entrance to the building, where they took the trash (or in politically correct terms, the recycling) out and brought the restroom supplies in. And that wasn’t warded.
Penny was going to head for the Durbar, but decided that it might not be a good idea, if “they” were looking for her. So, instead, she caught the Tube to Blackfriars and went to see if Mr. Fitz-Lawrence was there.
“Oh, dear - and you’re sure about this ? That they’re Paradmants, I mean ?”
“I’ve only seen one … well, three at Mr. Mortimer’s, but only one here in London. But it looked exactly like the other ones.”
“Mmmnn.” FitzLawrence made a humming sound in his throat. “This sort of thing is, of course, far more Mortimer’s field than mine - he guards the Gate, I the Cup. His role is to control access to our frame of existence from others; mine fundamentally to minister within our frame.” Then he raised his head from reverie: “But, you, my dear, clearly are in need of ministry. Not, perhaps from the Grail itself.”
He went over to a wall-cupboard, opened it, and took out a black box, such as might have been for a necklace. He put it down, and opened it, and Penny saw a jumble of silver items. With a long finger, Fitz-Lawrence poked through the contents until finally he fixed on one item - a small medallion, which he withdrew and offered to her.
“Here - this will neither protect you, nor call aid to your side. What it will do is to offer you a route of peace in times of turmoil. Place it next your skin, touch it gently, and open your mind.”
Slightly doubtfully, Penny did as the elderly man suggested. And, suddenly, a memory was brought back, crystal-clear, to her mind - a summer’s day, somewhere high on the Yorkshire moors, on a holiday with her parents; a bright day, bell-clear, short tussocky grass, interspersed with heather; a shimmering stream, blinding bright beneath the sun, bubbling and swirling in its stony bed, tinkling and burbling to give a background sound-track to the day. And ginger-beer and salmon-paste sandwiches, and hours to eat them in, and drink in the clear air, and not to fret about anything at all.