[No one would believe Jacob Frye if he said he had better things to do than interact with Ned Wynert. If he wasn't on the train making idle conversation he was hijacking the rails, the river, and the roads, all to gain his favor and coin. Word was it was more for the former.
He argued that he couldn't make any progress on the Templar front with Evie and Henry God knew where studying, despite the fact he'd went off spilling blood and asking questions later only weeks ago. He argued that there weren't any other jobs to take, despite a very suspiciously manly old woman that could be related to Fredrick Abberline stopping by the station to catch his time. He argued that he didn't even like talking business that much with Wynert, despite Rooks noticing his smile stepping into the next carriage.
He's at the point where he's just stopped arguing. There is no excuse for him looking down the train to make sure Ned was at the bookcase before stepping on. There is no excuse for him to have been looking for pressed flowers, since Evie and Henry were already getting married over the damn things. And yet he's still stopping behind him, book of flowers in hand when the thief's taken to looking at the shelves.] Surely you've gone through all of these by now.
[Ned likes trains and people who don't ask questions. His boys and girls are good for that—nobody wonders aloud, to his face or to each other, why he takes his leave from his office and winds up on the Frye's train more and more often lately. Some of them don't honestly care; they're all set believing that Ned really does like the train that much, more now that Agnes has really prettied it up. And he does. It's not a secret: Ned likes trains.
So Ned doesn't have to argue about why he's here. Sometimes the Rooks loitering on board blink at him in surprise when he steps onto the train, if they've never seen him there before, but he's convinced himself that's because they're just gang members and he's a household name among criminals—surely they're starstruck. Evie and Henry are busy telling each other twelve times a day about their feelings, and staring at old handkerchiefs or something else incredibly dull, so...
Anyone who cares to know has guessed by now that he pokes through the Frye's bookshelf over and over like it's going to change that much in a week because Jacob Frye will clomp his ugly boots into the car sooner or later and give him something to do. Nobody asks; Ned's grateful he got out of that one, and he's already smirking at the books when he hears Jacob come up behind him.]
I have, and you know what? I'm disappointed, Frye. Not one of these has a secret compartment and a stash of coin tucked away inside.
I'm pretty sure Henry would assassinate me if I cut open any of their books. You'd be better off searching the bar to find my coin. [Jacob grinned, glancing to the titles.] He cares very much for the assassination of... Cesare Borgia. Whoever that is.
[He should know this. He doesn't care. He bites the inside of his cheek, flipping through the pages of the book before he just shut it and held it out.] It's not exactly something for you to read, but Greenie has too many from my dear sister. It's not anything shiny, but... if you like that sort of thing.
[It is truly amazing how little Jacob Frye knows about his own craft. Ned probably knows more about it and he's really not supposed to, but when you're tiny and smile a lot it's easy to fade into the background of people's private assassin conversations. He's gifted in the craft, just like he's gifted in raising his eyebrows just so, to look interested and critical at the exact same time.
A book full of pressed flowers? Is Jacob trying to pull something funny??] If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were just trying to pawn your trash off on me.
[It really isn't anything shiny... but he reaches out and accepts the book anyway, flipping a few pages idly. He'll keep it, for his own mysterious reasons.] Hang on a second, what do we have here—why, Frye, what are you trying to pull?
[He holds the book upright, gives it a little shake, and three coins fall into his outstretched palm. Whoa!! How did those get there!!]
Trash. [Jacob spent all morning looking for some of those, so excuse the mild offense in his expression. If he didn't want those, he can take them back!! It lasted about two whole seconds, though, because the coins leave him with a ridiculous look of dismay.]
What-- [He's a damn child, with how wide his eyes get while he just gapes. It doesn't occur to him that they're more than likely his right away. Give him a second.] I didn't--
[Wait-- He pats his many pockets, the dawn on him slow but sure.] ... Alright, you got me. Just this once. [Until the next time,]
[Ned smirks to counter Jacob making about half a dozen expressions in thirty seconds, tossing the coins a little in his palm to make them jingle before he holds them back out in offering. He doesn't need this pocket change, so please, buy cheap beer and illegal bombs with it.]
Just this once, sure, you got it. [Ha... Now he tucks the book of flowers under his arm, leaning his shoulder against the shelves.] You didn't come over here just to give me flowers, did you?
[Just when Jacob thought he knew what to say. He blanches, choosing to make a slow deposit of his coin back into his pocket while he tries to find some plausible excuse he was there.]
No, of course not. I'm clearly here to... to... [Say something,] Get you off this train. Stretch your legs. Talk about... other trains. [YEAH.]
[Oh, look at him go. Ned makes a noise of surprise that's completely put-upon, like he has some snide remark ready to go about how he's finally being thrown off the Frye's secret train, but hmm—talking about other trains. Not bad, for something he came up with in half a second.]
Well then, I won't take up any more of your time with my loitering. [He straightens up from the shelf, taking a few steps toward the car door and patting the book at his side as he does.] I'll just take my spoils and go talk to myself about other trains, shall I?
Yeah, you... you do that, you dooo... that... with me. [That's about as smooth as Jacob will get. It's a good thing he's good looking. He stayed put and crossed his arms in some effort to look stern, but it's lost when he's just following Ned like a lost dog.] I meant with me.
[He can last a few hours without Ned, shut up. Just not right now.] If you're going to loiter about waiting for me, it might as well be out in the city. Get your head out of paperwork for a change.
I wonder if she's noticed we've gone, or she's still talking about bloody pieces of Eden. [It has to be at least thirty minutes since they've left the station, which Jacob thinks makes his question even funnier. He'll probably ask again in an hour, two, three...
If he wasn't busy with anything else, at least. He was stupidly excited to be closing in on Ned's home and have the opportunity to go through all this things as the crime lord has on his train. He's been in good spirits since he remembered the book that he's all but forgotten they're going for drinks.]
You sure about giving me the address I can always drop by, Wynert?
[That joke's funny now, but it'll be a raised eyebrow and a frown the third time Ned has to hear it. It's more like did Evie even notice he showed up to grab his new book, the way it was such a brief visit for once. Right now he's more interested in taking Jacob back to his office, a rare privilege he hopes Jacob can appreciate.
He'd better appreciate it...] I've got other places to hide out if I get tired of your face, Frye.
[Not that he will, really, but he has to say it. His house is completely innocuous, in the middle of a completely unremarkable street lined with the same closely-packed houses as everywhere else. There's nothing about the building that screams "criminal mastermind's home" other than the fact that Ned happens to be the one with a key to the front door. Immediately inside there's a narrow staircase and a door slightly open at the end of a short hall; one or two of Ned's people are down there, but nobody gets up to come see who he's brought home before he's already elbowing Jacob upstairs. Go, go up to his office, great idea.]
You won't make it past the door without me here. Don't provoke my boys just for the hell of it.
You won't get tired of my face. [He counters confidently, but he was more caught up in paying attention to each and every detail of the walk inside. There's nothing to catch on here, aside from his men, but that's smarter than more than half his targets. Ned was smart. Ned was...
He's cut off thinking of ways to describe Ned by his elbowing, swatting his hands as he starts up the stairs. Fascinating.] Have you forgotten you're inviting an assassin into your home? I find other ways than the door.
[Don't swat at him, you baby. Ned nudges him right back again, up the stairs and then side stepping around him once they're in the upstairs hall.] Give me a break—you're supposed to be on my side.
[Is Jacob not Ned's personal muscle...?? Anyway, the upstairs hall is just as spartan as the hall downstairs, but the carpet is nicer. There are a few windows and they're all locked from the inside, thanks, and only three doors, all of which are shut. Ned motions for Jacob to quit flapping his hands at him and come on, taking them down to the last door, which he pauses to unlock again before swinging open and gesturing around proudly at as he walks in.
It's... an office, that's for sure. For someone who steals so much art, he only has one painting hanging and not even one that's recognizably famous - it's a nonspecific countryside, to boot - and he clearly doesn't decorate to show off his wealth but rather to subtly remind anyone who makes it this far to see him. There are two different massive safes, his desk is solid wood and worth more at a glance than the painting on the wall, and along one wall shelves holding thick books that are, some of them, business records, but expensive besides. Two more locked windows; maybe he'll move the bookshelves in front of those to make it fun for Jacob to harass him. On top of the safe behind the desk there is a very nice model train; never touch it.
The lamp is still lit from whenever he left before; in case anyone outside is waiting for it to go dark so they can smash their way in, obviously. Ned doesn't feel the need to point this out. The most important part of the room however is the coat rack behind the desk, because it's directly responsible for Ned taking off his coat and hat to hang up, loosening his tie just a fraction as he comes back around to the front of the desk and leans back against it. Go ahead, Jacob. Touch his stuff.]
[To say Jacob marvels at the simplest of things would be an understatement. One would think he wouldn't be able to shut up about how it's a small office for a small man, but his attention was on... Ned. Ned taking off his jacket. Ned putting his hat up. How his hair was dangerously close to curling at the ends.
But his office. Right. Right! Jacob blinks as Ned settles, looking away to belatedly take in his apartment. He didn't expect anything lavish, but this? Since there's so little decoration, he'll just have to go everything. He'll start walking forward to thumb through his little collection of books.] So this is what you work to make all days of the week? I didn't think you'd have the patience.
[What if he needs to go back and reference something... This not what he expected, and it wasn't because he didn't have any expectations because he was distracted. Certainly not.]
[If Ned notices the way Jacob seems to be frozen until he stops and leans against his desk, he doesn't say anything about it. He just watches him, arms folded in front of his chest, amused by Jacob going through his books and wary of the very same. Don't mess up his shit, he needs that...]
Feel free to make yourself comfortable. [Since he already has!!] What did you think running a business involves, Frye? Rallying my people to take out Blighters doesn't happen every day, unfortunately.
That sounds awfully boring. [Jacob glances over his shoulder, to Ned, of course, then at the book he'd gotten for him. He didn't want it shoved with these and forgotten... hm. He'll just have to shove it in his desk somewhere before he leaves.]
Well, Wynert... if it weren't for the safes, I'd never guess you were running all of London. [He turns, clasping his hands together so he'd resist undoing one of the window locks. He couldn't do that while Ned was paying attention.] I'd imagine that's just a quarter of what you make in there, right?
Dreadfully so. [How often is he going to need to look at pressed flowers, Jacob?? He will sometimes, but how much will he need to?
Anyway, his gaze drifts from Jacob to one of the safes and he hums a little, shrugging.]
It'd be kinda silly of me to lay out all my profits for you, wouldn't it? It's part. [He says this mostly for the excuse to wink while he does it, because that's not flirtatious at all. Flirting about money? Him? Perish the thought. He shifts slightly, dropping his hands to pat on the edge of his desk.] This fine piece of craftsmanship's worth more than a couple houses on this street, all by itself. Weighs a ton, too—hiding it in plain sight.
[Nobody will steal these expensive wooden assets!!]
[Any banter between Wynert and Frye was just supposed to be that: banter. Jacob wasn't supposed to make a habit of doing jobs that are said off-handedly to be impossible, and he wasn't supposed to start showing up at Ned's just because he'd said he couldn't get enough of him sarcastically. But he delivered, like it or not, no matter the subject.
So when the two get into it about trains and how nice a ride without his annoying assassin business, it was only a matter of time. Instead of waiting for Ned at his own train, he's sat at the station, hands constantly patting the pocket of his coat and adjusting his hat like he wasn't constantly looking about for if Ned would actually show that day. It was almost every sign he did something he wasn't supposed to, but his cheeky grin has long since faded into an annoyed frown.]
[Banter is good. Banter does not require Ned to break from his actual, real, important schedule so much - something Jacob Frye and his very loose "business" of being an assassin clearly don't understand. He's said as much half a dozen times, usually to get away from spending too much time talking about how Jacob is the one climbing in windows at weird hours and yet, they keep seeming to meet whenever it's convenient for Ned.
Business.
He's tempted by trains, though. The stars align and find that the day Jacob wants him to show up at the train station is a day that he doesn't have anything else that needs his immediate attention, so Jacob's gotten lucky once already. But Ned shows up whenever he wants, so if Jacob is loitering for a while, that's a personal problem. Ned does show, immediately looking Jacob up and down with a critical eye, like that will tell him what Jacob has done...]
Then I paint a target on my back? [he hears. Fun greetings: assassin jokes.] Alright, Frye, I'm here.
[Ignore the way Jacob nearly trips over himself getting to his feet, and the way his eyes just light up upon seeing Ned. It's not important. Neither is the way he adjusts his hat, or how he doesn't look like he hit every branch on a tree before falling into garbage today. It's not like he's made some attempt to look impressive, no way.]
Course. How else would I find you at that size? [He says, digging through his coat's pockets before he's procured what's unmistakably two tickets. Probably the first time he's ever needed them, and he expects it's something to behold.] I hope the rest of your evening is taken care of, because I happen to be taking you hostage.
[Jacob looks like a real person, but first-] Always a kidder.
[Let him live his tiny life in peace. He'll have to save his comments about Jacob's slightly improved fashion for later, since there's no way to hide the way he perks up and zeroes in on train tickets despite himself. So Jacob actually went through with it, look at that—]
You don't say. Which train? [This is a question only Ned would ever have. He's reaching expectantly for the tickets. Show him the train information.] I think I can make time to get a little kidnapped.
It's... it's a train. A good train. Second most beautiful to Bertha, really. [Leave it to Ned to make Jacob feel dumb for not paying attention to a train model.
He sighs, reluctantly handing over the tickets with only a little bit of a pout.] It's got a dining car that all... kidnapped persons have to have a nice dinner in with their handsome hosts. Countryside view... back to London before you know it.
[Ah... Jacob does try. Ned takes the tickets with one hand and pats Jacob on the arm with the other, not looking at him now that he has train details to inspect. Look at this, a whole train ride...]
If you wanted to have dinner with me, you could've just said so. [He says this, but it's clear from the smile he's pretending not to have on his face that a countryside train ride was definitely the best choice to make. It's no Frye train, which is its own kind of disappointment, but also how nice will it be to have dinner without being interrupted by stupid twin fights?
So nice. Jacob earns a point.] Well, let's get a move on.
Don't pretend you aren't excited. [Jacob positively beams, so he probably has enough excitement for the both of them if Ned weren't. He spends a few seconds admiring the smile Ned totally doesn't have before he actually remembers to get moving, turning for the station tracks that their luxurious ride awaited.]
We have a nice closed car to ourselves, and I think there's a bottle of champagne waiting for us. Don't let anyone tell you Jacob Frye doesn't pull out all the stops.
[Don't be cute at him this early in the evening. He's still giving the tickets a fond look as he follows Jacob to the correct train, eyebrows raising with interest at the idea of a whole goddamn car? A whole car.]
How many of these stops am I funding? [remember you work for him sometimes,] I'll spread the word that Jacob Frye knows just how to throw his money around.
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dumbshow2017-02-06 11:06 pm
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He argued that he couldn't make any progress on the Templar front with Evie and Henry God knew where studying, despite the fact he'd went off spilling blood and asking questions later only weeks ago. He argued that there weren't any other jobs to take, despite a very suspiciously manly old woman that could be related to Fredrick Abberline stopping by the station to catch his time. He argued that he didn't even like talking business that much with Wynert, despite Rooks noticing his smile stepping into the next carriage.
He's at the point where he's just stopped arguing. There is no excuse for him looking down the train to make sure Ned was at the bookcase before stepping on. There is no excuse for him to have been looking for pressed flowers, since Evie and Henry were already getting married over the damn things. And yet he's still stopping behind him, book of flowers in hand when the thief's taken to looking at the shelves.] Surely you've gone through all of these by now.
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So Ned doesn't have to argue about why he's here. Sometimes the Rooks loitering on board blink at him in surprise when he steps onto the train, if they've never seen him there before, but he's convinced himself that's because they're just gang members and he's a household name among criminals—surely they're starstruck. Evie and Henry are busy telling each other twelve times a day about their feelings, and staring at old handkerchiefs or something else incredibly dull, so...
Anyone who cares to know has guessed by now that he pokes through the Frye's bookshelf over and over like it's going to change that much in a week because Jacob Frye will clomp his ugly boots into the car sooner or later and give him something to do. Nobody asks; Ned's grateful he got out of that one, and he's already smirking at the books when he hears Jacob come up behind him.]
I have, and you know what? I'm disappointed, Frye. Not one of these has a secret compartment and a stash of coin tucked away inside.
[Are you really a criminal!!]
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[He should know this. He doesn't care. He bites the inside of his cheek, flipping through the pages of the book before he just shut it and held it out.] It's not exactly something for you to read, but Greenie has too many from my dear sister. It's not anything shiny, but... if you like that sort of thing.
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A book full of pressed flowers? Is Jacob trying to pull something funny??] If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were just trying to pawn your trash off on me.
[It really isn't anything shiny... but he reaches out and accepts the book anyway, flipping a few pages idly. He'll keep it, for his own mysterious reasons.] Hang on a second, what do we have here—why, Frye, what are you trying to pull?
[He holds the book upright, gives it a little shake, and three coins fall into his outstretched palm. Whoa!! How did those get there!!]
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What-- [He's a damn child, with how wide his eyes get while he just gapes. It doesn't occur to him that they're more than likely his right away. Give him a second.] I didn't--
[Wait-- He pats his many pockets, the dawn on him slow but sure.] ... Alright, you got me. Just this once. [Until the next time,]
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Just this once, sure, you got it. [Ha... Now he tucks the book of flowers under his arm, leaning his shoulder against the shelves.] You didn't come over here just to give me flowers, did you?
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No, of course not. I'm clearly here to... to... [Say something,] Get you off this train. Stretch your legs. Talk about... other trains. [YEAH.]
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Well then, I won't take up any more of your time with my loitering. [He straightens up from the shelf, taking a few steps toward the car door and patting the book at his side as he does.] I'll just take my spoils and go talk to myself about other trains, shall I?
[stare..........say it]
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[He can last a few hours without Ned, shut up. Just not right now.] If you're going to loiter about waiting for me, it might as well be out in the city. Get your head out of paperwork for a change.
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If he wasn't busy with anything else, at least. He was stupidly excited to be closing in on Ned's home and have the opportunity to go through all this things as the crime lord has on his train. He's been in good spirits since he remembered the book that he's all but forgotten they're going for drinks.]
You sure about giving me the address I can always drop by, Wynert?
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He'd better appreciate it...] I've got other places to hide out if I get tired of your face, Frye.
[Not that he will, really, but he has to say it. His house is completely innocuous, in the middle of a completely unremarkable street lined with the same closely-packed houses as everywhere else. There's nothing about the building that screams "criminal mastermind's home" other than the fact that Ned happens to be the one with a key to the front door. Immediately inside there's a narrow staircase and a door slightly open at the end of a short hall; one or two of Ned's people are down there, but nobody gets up to come see who he's brought home before he's already elbowing Jacob upstairs. Go, go up to his office, great idea.]
You won't make it past the door without me here. Don't provoke my boys just for the hell of it.
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He's cut off thinking of ways to describe Ned by his elbowing, swatting his hands as he starts up the stairs. Fascinating.] Have you forgotten you're inviting an assassin into your home? I find other ways than the door.
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[Is Jacob not Ned's personal muscle...?? Anyway, the upstairs hall is just as spartan as the hall downstairs, but the carpet is nicer. There are a few windows and they're all locked from the inside, thanks, and only three doors, all of which are shut. Ned motions for Jacob to quit flapping his hands at him and come on, taking them down to the last door, which he pauses to unlock again before swinging open and gesturing around proudly at as he walks in.
It's... an office, that's for sure. For someone who steals so much art, he only has one painting hanging and not even one that's recognizably famous - it's a nonspecific countryside, to boot - and he clearly doesn't decorate to show off his wealth but rather to subtly remind anyone who makes it this far to see him. There are two different massive safes, his desk is solid wood and worth more at a glance than the painting on the wall, and along one wall shelves holding thick books that are, some of them, business records, but expensive besides. Two more locked windows; maybe he'll move the bookshelves in front of those to make it fun for Jacob to harass him. On top of the safe behind the desk there is a very nice model train; never touch it.
The lamp is still lit from whenever he left before; in case anyone outside is waiting for it to go dark so they can smash their way in, obviously. Ned doesn't feel the need to point this out. The most important part of the room however is the coat rack behind the desk, because it's directly responsible for Ned taking off his coat and hat to hang up, loosening his tie just a fraction as he comes back around to the front of the desk and leans back against it. Go ahead, Jacob. Touch his stuff.]
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But his office. Right. Right! Jacob blinks as Ned settles, looking away to belatedly take in his apartment. He didn't expect anything lavish, but this? Since there's so little decoration, he'll just have to go everything. He'll start walking forward to thumb through his little collection of books.] So this is what you work to make all days of the week? I didn't think you'd have the patience.
[What if he needs to go back and reference something... This not what he expected, and it wasn't because he didn't have any expectations because he was distracted. Certainly not.]
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Feel free to make yourself comfortable. [Since he already has!!] What did you think running a business involves, Frye? Rallying my people to take out Blighters doesn't happen every day, unfortunately.
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Well, Wynert... if it weren't for the safes, I'd never guess you were running all of London. [He turns, clasping his hands together so he'd resist undoing one of the window locks. He couldn't do that while Ned was paying attention.] I'd imagine that's just a quarter of what you make in there, right?
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Anyway, his gaze drifts from Jacob to one of the safes and he hums a little, shrugging.]
It'd be kinda silly of me to lay out all my profits for you, wouldn't it? It's part. [He says this mostly for the excuse to wink while he does it, because that's not flirtatious at all. Flirting about money? Him? Perish the thought. He shifts slightly, dropping his hands to pat on the edge of his desk.] This fine piece of craftsmanship's worth more than a couple houses on this street, all by itself. Weighs a ton, too—hiding it in plain sight.
[Nobody will steal these expensive wooden assets!!]
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So when the two get into it about trains and how nice a ride without his annoying assassin business, it was only a matter of time. Instead of waiting for Ned at his own train, he's sat at the station, hands constantly patting the pocket of his coat and adjusting his hat like he wasn't constantly looking about for if Ned would actually show that day. It was almost every sign he did something he wasn't supposed to, but his cheeky grin has long since faded into an annoyed frown.]
I swear, Wynert, you stand me up now...
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Business.
He's tempted by trains, though. The stars align and find that the day Jacob wants him to show up at the train station is a day that he doesn't have anything else that needs his immediate attention, so Jacob's gotten lucky once already. But Ned shows up whenever he wants, so if Jacob is loitering for a while, that's a personal problem. Ned does show, immediately looking Jacob up and down with a critical eye, like that will tell him what Jacob has done...]
Then I paint a target on my back? [he hears. Fun greetings: assassin jokes.] Alright, Frye, I'm here.
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Course. How else would I find you at that size? [He says, digging through his coat's pockets before he's procured what's unmistakably two tickets. Probably the first time he's ever needed them, and he expects it's something to behold.] I hope the rest of your evening is taken care of, because I happen to be taking you hostage.
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[Let him live his tiny life in peace. He'll have to save his comments about Jacob's slightly improved fashion for later, since there's no way to hide the way he perks up and zeroes in on train tickets despite himself. So Jacob actually went through with it, look at that—]
You don't say. Which train? [This is a question only Ned would ever have. He's reaching expectantly for the tickets. Show him the train information.] I think I can make time to get a little kidnapped.
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He sighs, reluctantly handing over the tickets with only a little bit of a pout.] It's got a dining car that all... kidnapped persons have to have a nice dinner in with their handsome hosts. Countryside view... back to London before you know it.
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If you wanted to have dinner with me, you could've just said so. [He says this, but it's clear from the smile he's pretending not to have on his face that a countryside train ride was definitely the best choice to make. It's no Frye train, which is its own kind of disappointment, but also how nice will it be to have dinner without being interrupted by stupid twin fights?
So nice. Jacob earns a point.] Well, let's get a move on.
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We have a nice closed car to ourselves, and I think there's a bottle of champagne waiting for us. Don't let anyone tell you Jacob Frye doesn't pull out all the stops.
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How many of these stops am I funding? [remember you work for him sometimes,] I'll spread the word that Jacob Frye knows just how to throw his money around.
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it's been a week...... what is time anymore
fake