Demimonde Logs Cont - Dec 16/16

(Dec 16) 13:35:01 Edmond took the Lady Buchanan's arm in a jaunty, half-formal way as he began to stroll without direction about the room with her. "Well, Lady," he said, using her title, though there may have been the slightest sarcastic undertone laced with the two syllables. "As I said before, we are the premier researchers of the human mind and behavioral sciences. We seek, as a whole, to learn as much about the mental state of being human, the reasons behind actions, and, most importantly, how to correct the negative behaviors of the criminally deranged." He was confident about his work and his words, but the speech had quickly taken on the sound of a rehearsed sales pitch, coming out stiff and mechanical. He paused in his walking steps, Edmond's body turning toward the Lady Buchanan's. His head canted to the left in a nearly canine manner as a lopsided grin stole its way over his lips. "Hey, why don't we make it simple. At a date when you have a bit of freedom, we might make an appointment that you can view our facilities and see first-hand exactly what transpires," he watched her carefully though it seemed nothing more than the simple eye-contact of polite conversation. His mind was trained from years in the trenches to note human reaction, the simple change in expression that might tell so much more than a statement could. It was quite difficult for people to lie with their expressions, if one knew the subtle signs of which to note. He knew them well, for he had spent years in the practice of doing just that: lying with his expression as smoothly and as easily as he might lie with his words. One doesn't, after all, simply tell the leader of a crew of cutthroats that he would sell anything he learned from their discussion to whoever wanted to pay him for it.

(Dec 16) 13:53:28 [Elsie] The slur of whispers within the room eluded her for her attention was notably given to the male who now accompanied her around the expanse of space. The lavish affair for the British Museum was always over done and deep within Elsie despised such gatherings calling them “tedious, boring and irrelevant”. But as the former wife of one of the Board, her status alone made it a necessity that she show her face. Beyond that, always working for the ‘Purgis’ meant that ears and eyes had to be open at all occasions - awareness was key and essential to survival and for maintaining the status quo. Looped around the wrist of her free arm hung a fan that was direct match to the red silken gown picked out by Lucy earlier that evening. Grasping the device she raised it to her face slightly to hide lips from others as if she was in deep talk with this gentleman. This was two fold - for one it would no doubt bring attention to Edmond - (Gossip after all was all the rage) and as such it may have others of a similar stature to Elsie curious about his needs leading to possible future ventures. It also however signaled to those within the large area that Elsie was in conversation with someone potentially either a threat or future Society member which would put her compatriots on alert. Smiling toward the male when he came to a pause in speech and step, she batted the fan several times as if to splash cool air against her expressively striking features before snapping it closed to tap against his wrist in a playful, almost coy manner. Elsie was a skilled actress. After all she’d been through, everything she’d done.. Seen… one had to be in order to keep their secrets, their demons at -
(Dec 16) 13:53:36 [Elsie] bay. “Ah, Mr. Dagenhart, I thought at first you passionate but with your speech just now, it was rather more a recital.” She laughed, leaning her head back to allow a curl of ebony hair to fall over her shoulder, alluding to the smooth ivory column of her neck. Again the laugh was for Society - it was a continual show. She further continued by leaning into whisper toward the male. “Just play along. I’m merely attracting attention your way and by tomorrow you’ll be the talk of the town. In fact, that may help you service your needs.” She paused raising the fan once more now to conceal their discussion. “T’is helpful for your cause. Believe me.” Another peel of laughter throaty in resonance flowed through red plush lips. “However, you intrigue me and so, therefore, I shall grant you your appointment. “ She wouldn’t call it a date. Business was entirely different from courting and courting was not something Elsie was in a mind of doing at any point in the near future. If ever at all. Keeping the haunted look from her features, she felt the old wound, the betrayal deep within yet her face remained alight and friendly, and evocative as always. “I would be delighted to see what you do, first hand.” Behind them the crowd shifted as the Opening Waltz of the night began it’s melody. “Shall we?” It was uncommon for a Lady to ask her partner for a dance. Indeed, exceedingly rare but then again it could be said that Lady Elizabeth Buchanan was no Ordinary Lady.


(Dec 16) 14:14:34 [Edmond] The actions of the Lady were perfectly poised, he had noted, but there was something about the way she moved, perhaps, or the way she glanced about, that made Edmond think that she might not actually belong here. It wasn't anything concrete or anything he could put his finger on, so to speak, but there was a certain air around her that said she was above this, or perhaps merely on its periphery despite her prominant position in the metaphorical spotlight. Edmond had the grace to look down and away, slightly abashed at having been so blatantly, yet tactfully, called out on his choice in cadence as he spoke of work. It was, after all, his side job, so to speak. There was a certain passion and intrigue leveled toward the idea of human behavioral patterns and thought processes, though, and Edmond did truly wish RAPIER all the success possible. "Ah, I am sorry, Lady Buchanan," he said more formally, the bobbed hint of a bow again. He did it habitually, both to mock the hypocratic creatures of high-society, and to show a certain level of deference deserved the woman. "I spend as much time speaking to people and trying to fund the endeavors of my colleagues and myself that I begin to lose focus. I am not one to sell the potential of an idea but for the ever growing need to back our prospects in RAPIER." The young man smiled broad, though, as the Waltz picked up and he was invited to the floor. This was unconventional, to say the very least, but his limited knowledge of the Lady Buchanan named her as anything but that which convention dictated or expected. "It would be my great honor," Edmond replied, this next bow low and with a flourish, his hand holding and sweeping low the imagined hat from atop his head. With that, he led the woman out, taking the lead as was proper in such matters, and began to move with fluidity and careful grace. He was no excellent dancer, but he had been well versed in the intricacies of the more popular dances of the period by his family, their -c-
(Dec 16) 14:15:08 [Edmond] insistence that their son maintain the 'Honor and responsibilities of their station.' Their station? A Baronet was a glorified thing, the title nearly meaningless and handed to one of the Dagenhart ancestors for services rendered a duke of some sort some centuries back. The legend was spoken often in the family, though Edmond found it trite at best. "I do believe," he said as opportunity presented itself to speak face to face in their carefully choreographed dance. "That you will be quite impressed by what we have done so far, and the potential we have yet to gain." The monotone had left his voice and in crept a hint of excitement, as he truly believed great gains would be made soon, though not likely by him. He had other battles to fight, other behaviors to learn and monitor. The scourge of vampires, the disgusting beasts that were a deranged mockery of the human form, were the driving focus of his plans. He would kill them and any who backed them, one and all, if he could manage it. The brief flash through his eyes was fleeting, the smile returning tenfold, though it barely touched his lips as a hint of an arrogant smirk. -fin-

(Dec 16) 14:40:16 [Elsie] The irony of this sultry dance - one that was provocative and scandalous (though by now it was merely a singular accepted notion that at least ONE waltz be played through the night) was that both parties were neither privy to either of their true goals. And much akin to the Waltz where one spun again and again, carried away by the tides of strings, so to did they both as they spoke, spinning their yarns without so much of revealing their true purpose. Regardless, Elsie felt the strong hands of the man around her petit waist, the warmth of it pressing through the silk of her gown and corset underneath. His other hand, taken by her own gloved one was just as warm as fingers draped over to hold the gesture in place. Moving, twirling, she kept his pace which was both fluid and graceful, masculine and not flowery like some of the Dandies that asked her to dance on occasion. All in all, it was quite delightful and the woman felt intricately drawn into the conversation he was starting while their bodies maneuvered around all others. One hand grasped the skirt of her gown, pulling it into a flourishing splash of red with each titular spin, adding a flair to her beguiling form and well, in truth to the attractive female. For sure the male was not bad on the eyes. His way of expression was notably keen and his eyes - something within their depths reminded Elsie of herself. Though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. In that as his body pressed to hers however she stifled a gasp at the shocking flare that rose within her - unexpected to say the least. Clearing her throat though she remained at all times complacent with that singular smile upon her face that was both respectable and responsible, at all times. “You need not apologize, you know, Mr Dagenhart. Truthfully I can well imagine -
(Dec 16) 14:40:25 [Elsie] the need for funds, the desire to see something you adore, feel ultimately passionate about come to fruition. While my means are not.. How shall I put it..” she paused a moment as talk of money was poor etiquette to say the least, and more so for a woman.. “… not endless. I do have friends who may share my passions and be willing to offer aid as well. Though it is to be seen first what it is you actually do. “ She countered with a brief reminder that while he was here seeking patronage, it wasn’t necessarily appropriate to do in certain circles. Though she understood why he was doing what he did. “I look forward however to seeing first hand. I’m rather intrigued by the mechanisms of the brain, it’s functions and the like.” A brief glimpse into herself. Just enough.. “Though most males think it ridiculous of me to find interest in such areas. As you can see however, I don’t always follow social conformity. Being a widow allows me that grace, if you will.” She laughed following her words because it was very true. In fact being a ‘Purgis was the only job a female could truly do without being judged by others of the Society and were morally accepted in such roles that would be frowned upon by London aristocracy on the whole where it known. “You dance quite well, Mr. Dagenhartz. I take it you’ve had lessons, yes?”

 Edmond was well aware of the strictures of society at large upon females, of course, but the idea of interests being limited based upon gender made absolutely no sense to the man. It wasn't that his ideas were progressive or anything, but the simple idea that one could not always help what one's mind chose to enjoy or find interest in. The point was unimportant, though, as his goal was simply to gain the woman's support, be it through her own financial backing or, as she now presented the idea to him, her societal compatriots who may have deeper accounts. "I do not see why people would think unkindly upon your interest, Lady," he said, moving along still, mechanically true to the dance but with no flare or added steps. "After all, I do not see how anyone could fail to have interest in the mind and how it works. Imagine, if you would, a businessman with a knowledge of human attitude and reaction, or a gambler, or a school teacher, and so on. We all, each and every one of us, use it to some extent in an instinctual manner," he paused for a moment, his head canting in that canine manner again. "We at RAPIER simply wish to define and quantify these things that we may learn further and dig deeper. We do not wish to limit ourselves to the falability of instinct, but to willfully and knowingly be able to analyze and interpret the actions of a single man or woman based upon the result." He continued without missing a beat, speech or dance wise. "Example being this Ripper fellow who terrorized the streets for so long. It is our belief at RAPIER that it was not only more than one person, but persons who wished specifically to push terror into the community at large. The further motivations elude us, as do the reasons one would wish to terrorize society beyond the mere fact that it would give this group power, but, from body to body, the methodology changed very subtly. We do not believe that was a result of a learning curve or a change in comfort level, but a different hand-c-
(Dec 16) 15:17:21 [Edmond] wielding the weapon," Edmond continued for a while, rambling on until he realized that he was. Shaking his head and smiling sheepishly, he apologized quickly. "Such a dark subject, Lady, I am sorry. I would not discuss evil in the presence of beauty," he recovered quickly, realizing immediately his faux pas but subjugating any misgivings. SHe was, after all, beautiful. And she had, after all, asked him to dance. And he had, after all, just talked about the most horrific crimes to have been known to the public in many many years, and, truly, the most unique. "Yes... I was forced to learn by my family at a young age. They thought it was proper that a young Baronet be well versed in the ways of higher society, though, I must confess I hardly think we belong as a whole." -fin-