Party crashing Part 2
"So the red one has to be Waverly, right?"
Jack sighed. "Geoff, you've been randomly shuffling their names and colours for the past 20 minutes. Do you even know which one is which...you know what? I give up." They watched as a woman in a veil walked up to the man in the wolf mask who stood near them. "Lord Shaw, is it?" She adressed him.
He turned to her. "Correct my lady, glad to make your acquaintance. Is there something that I can do for you?"
"I believe so." The woman withdrew a note from within one of the pockets in her robes, which Lord Shaw took and began to read. "It's from Treavor Pendleton," the woman continued. "I'm afraid I haven't read the contents inside, so-"
Lord Shaw flung the note to the ground, and Jack and Geoff exchanged worried glances. With a loud voice he yelled,
"Pendleton is a lying, gutless, sack of-"
"Okay, that's not what I expected." The woman tried to compose herself. "What did he-"
"Your friend has made some very untoward comments about my wife. Specifically, how her face resembles a 50 year old weeper."
Jack snorted as Geoff raised his eyebrows in actual alarm.
"Well you certainly seem to care a lot about your wife." The woman replied, indicating a hint of mischief in her voice. "At least, for a gentleman who visits the Golden Cat."
"What?" Shaw spluttered. "How did you-"
"And visiting a premature ten year old girl, too? Dearie me, is your wife aware of any of these suspicious activities you take part in?" Switching to a younger voice, she eerily parroted "Of course I'm available sir, would you like me to sing a song for you?"
Lord Shaw choked. "How...how did you...how dare you! Let's see if your aim is as sharp as your wit!" Oh here we go. Jack thought, grimly. "Sir, are you implying that-"
"Yes."
"Against a woman?"
"Yes!"
"But she's a lady! Have you no-"
"Are you questioning my orders, guardsman?" Shaw's voice has taken a quiet and deadly turn.
Jack sighed again. "Very well then, Lord Shaw requests to defend his honour in a duel, against this anonymous...lady... who stands in the place of Treavor Pendleton."
"I accept the duel against Lord Shaw." The woman was wearing a veil, but she was blatantly smiling.
"On my command, you will turn and fire." Geoff said while Jack was sweating indefinitely.
I didn't ask for this. When Pendleton had handed the note to her just before getting into Samuel's boat, Emily had thought it would be a request for an allegiance or something of that sort. Oh well. The flintlock was heavy in her grip, but the Outsider's mark (though invisible and unnoticed by the many guests who were spectating) was cool on her hand, and the slingshot fit snugly in her pocket.
"You will turn in three...two...one...Fire!" Emily span around with, her fingers on her left hand snapping together. Lord Shaw's shadow tripped him, and he let out a surprised cry as he fell, his flintlock firing blindly into the air. Emily had more accuracy, her bullet slamming into one of the large red balloons that hung in the air, the whale oil lamp inside it exploding. As the two guards covered their eyes to shield themselves from the glass and lightly burning remnants, Emily drew her slingshot and scooped up a pebble, firing it at Lord Shaw's facial area. There was a satisfying thunk, and he lay still. The two guards turned to face her as she dropped the still smoking flintlock on the ground.
"Is he!?-" Geoff blurted out but was cut off by Emily.
"Dead?" She dusted her hands off and walked towards them. "I shouldn't think so. That was fun though, is there anything else I can do here?"
The stunned duo looked at each other. "Well..." said one, awkwardly.
"There's always the Guessing Game?" The other piped up. Emily titled her head in curiosity. "Guessing Game?"
"Yeah. Everyone gets one chance to guess the real identities of the Boyle triplets, which one is in which dress. If you get them all right, you win the Boyle cameo, which is probably worth more than we earn, combined, in a year."
Emily smiled, and then looked towards Lord Shaw's unconscious form. "Do tidy him up, won't you?" With that, she turned on her heel and returned inside. A difficult game for the self-obsessed upper class, surely. She thought, cracking her knuckles. But it is the Empress' duty to know her people.
And mother was always one for whispering secrets to me. She thought with a sad smile.
The Boyle in the red dress laughed, slapped an aristocrat on the back, and continued around the table. "Care for a drink?" She turned to see a veiled woman offering her a glass.
"I'm afraid I'm already seeing two of you darling." Boyle chuckled. "Though if you're trying to make a pass at me, feel free to continue."
The veiled woman set the glass down. "Dearie me, flirting with someone you don't even know, and a woman no less?" She shrugged. "I suppose it doesn't surprise me. I recall you once made a pass at the Royal Protector...Esma Boyle."
Esma laughed. "Oh, well done. So you're really making a pass for the cameo, are you not?"
The veiled woman nodded. "You were the easiest decision, no offence meant. Now if you will excuse me, I'm about to make my next guess."
._.
The Boyle in white was passing through the main entrance room when her ears pricked up. Was that the audiograph player? No, that was a harpsichord going from D to F sharp major. Intrigued, she walked quickly towards the music room, where a woman in a veil was performing a beautiful rendition of Sokolov's 3rd minuet. Boyle stood watching until the end of the piece, before walking forwards slowly and clapping. In fact, the performance had drawn quite a crowd, including both her sisters in red and black. "Very well done." She called to the veiled musician, who had stood and given a deep curtsey, much to the small crowd's amusement. "I noticed you converted it into D and increased the tempo slightly, it made it more satisfying when you-"
"Converted it to the enharmonic minor?" The musician replied, a smile in her voice. "I'm afraid you give me too much credit, I had a very good teacher. However, you have just given yourself away. Only one of the Boyles has such musical understanding and interest, and I recall you proved it when you played for the empress once, Lydia Boyle."
There was an "Oooh" among the converging crowd as Lydia Boyle nodded at Emily's success, and the veiled woman turned towards the final Boyle in black. "And that makes you Waverly Boyle. I had no special plan concocted to discover your identity, but I am familiar with the process of elimination."
"Well well well..." Waverly exclaimed. "It looks like we have a winner!" The crowd gave a cheer.
Well that went much better than expected. Emily thought, as the three Boyles led her upstairs to obtain her prize. Esma Boyle had once tried to flirt with Corvo; it had been hilarious to watch him throw her out of Dunwall tower. And she was thankful to her music teacher, after all, he had written that piece. Inventions, paintings, music...Sokolov was ever destined to create, in any fashion he tried his hand at. The stationed guards nodded to her and the three Boyles as they passed through into the bedrooms of the three women, where they were apparently keeping the prize, and Emily got a glimpse at a letter lying open on the side.
"I know you will look wonderful in black...sorry I couldn't be there...My beloved Waverly..."
It was signed by Hiram Burrows. The newly appointed Lord Regent. Emily looked up at Waverly, in her black dress and reserved attitude. Interesting. She innocuously made a grabbing motion with her marked hand. A small sphere of gold light, invisible to all but her, floated above that black mask and hat. Smiling, Emily prepared to receive her prize.
She made a quick escape after that, politely declining the offers of drinks and further conversation. When finally she made it to the alleyway outside the house, she returned to her normal size and face, taking a deep breath. Maintaining a spell for that long had been difficult, she had been surreptitiously sipping from the blue magical remedies made by Piero throughout the evening. Suddenly, a continuously loud stomping noise came from the next street down, and she smiled.
Sticking to the shadows next to the street, Emily watched as the same patrolling tallboy walk past. Making the same gripping motion with her hand, a golden orb appeared over the tallboy's head, and with it, a long golden link stretching over to the Boyle manor to where she knew Waverly Boyle was socialising with the upper class. Emily then grappled up to the back of the tallboy, and softly began to sing into his ear.
"Ba, ba, black sheep, have you any wool...
Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full..."
Across the link, Waverly stiffened, the domino effect bringing the notes to her mind where no-one else could hear it. Shaking, she suddenly grabbed a pistol from a nearby guard's pocket, and fired it into the glass chandelier. Screaming, she clubbed an aristocrat in the back, and ran after another, as chaos ensued in the party.
So now i've beaten the sequel twice and have a few months until my next few tests, it's open season on this fic! Yay! Thanks to my new Beta for checking over this for me: SwoedPro51. And we get to see Emily's domino power manifest! WOOO!