Thread: Scarlet Letters -DEAD RP-

RE Scarlet Letters -QuixoticXCandy- Somewhere deep down in the very soles of her feet, Olivia knew what Darcy would say about Leather Apron. She knew that this particular subject would cause a heated debate about whether this killer was nothing more than common street filth attempting to sate some vicious boredom or if he was truly a mastermind that not even the police could catch. It was inherently clear which side Darcy chose, but Olivia was not as easily swayed by the mad rambling of cynical journalists like the whole of London was. She believed there was something methodical about the killing, but why he did it, was even beyond her. There were so many things the Ackerman girl wished to say in rebuttal to her lover's unreasonable assumption of the headlining killer but realized that one misunderstanding or one dirty secret that she admitted freely to Darcy would only tarnish her and her families good name. After all, it was improper for young ladies to be so entirely obsessed with the macabre as she was. He seems smarter than your average criminal Mr. Oxenham perhaps we should wait and watch before we assume our killer is a novice as you believe him to be. She knew she was walking a dangerous line but having to subject herself willingly to the ramblings of a spoiled, pretentious child was enough to make her teeth ache. As she stood across the table from him, she witnessed something cross Darcy's face that instantly quieted any previous agitation. It was a look that Olivia had learned meant he was rolling an idea around in his head, it was a look that said he knew something that she didn't, likely something he was supposed to keep buttoned up. With bated breath, she waited until he opened his mouth and divulged truths none in London, aside from those working on the case, knew, inwardly she grinned impishly.Jack the Ripper? She questioned incredulously, her tone finally holding a spark of only a fraction of her true enthusiasm. Comparively, 'The Ripper' sounded far superior to what the media had dubbed him, as well as far more terrifying she loved it! Hmm, has a nice ring to it, she murmured softly, knowing full well she was 'poking the bear' with her quiet omission. Lifting her eyes from the bold-faced print on the morning paper, Olivia was more than a little surprised that her comment had left him unphased and instead he began to recount the gruesome albeit fascinating details concerning the first victim that the police had found. Hazel eyes went wide in surprise to hear the particulars of the killing that the newspapers had failed to divulge. Jack had taken his time it seemed. He had plucked out her eyes, her tongue, and what body parts he hadn't wanted were left as a grisly reminder for any whore brave enough to traverse the streets at night in White Chapel. Genuine giddiness almost overwhelmed her at the knowledge that the Ripper did in fact, seem to enjoy toying with his victims a little after all, she had wondered only moments ago herself if he had left the first one alive long enough to see true suffering reflected in her eyes as she died. Olivia could not imagine what it was like to watch him work, to see the intense concentration on his face as he sawed through limbs, or cut through skin to rip and tear out organs but all of her wonderings refocused on one simple question, why? It seemed rather odd that the Ripper had decided to take bits and pieces back from his victims instead of leaving them intact or at best, in pieces around the crime scene. Was he collecting trophies from each victim? Or perhaps he had stalked these strumpets first from the shadows, watching them for a few days before he acted on some basic instinct, taking only the parts that he enjoyed most, leaving the rest as a personal calling card for his particular brand of brutality. In the span it had taken her to draw in a shuddering breath, Olivia knew she had to see it first hand. She needed to see just a glimpse of Jack's handiwork! There was something different about Jack that instantly ignited an unyielding desire to see inside the mind of this particular killer. He was unlike the typical murderer who only killed for three reasons money, revenge, or because they had grown bored. What had possessed him to kill and collect spare parts? I'm sure it was quite the gruesome sight, she remarked numbly, though it was a sight that Olivia desperately wished she could have witnessed what stories could the scene of the crime depict of Jack's madness? There were so many unanswered questions that the young woman desperately wanted answers to but knew that any semblance of a reply rested at the epicenter of Jack's second masterpiece, a place that an honest girl like herself had no business witnessing. Already her mind was abuzz with plots to see the disembodied whore and how she would justify her being there. As she thought, lost within her wondering, the soft touch of her lover's hand cause a surprised gasp to issue from her lips. She knew it was dangerous to lose herself in thought, but the Ripper had captured her full attention, and it left Olivia raw from curiosity. Darcy, sweetheart- she began, coming to stand before him, her long fingers brushing against the sides of his face lovingly. We both know we drank far too much last night and is likely the cause of any 'paleness' you believe you see. I do hate to be 'that woman', but your phallus does not count as a cure-all for a hangover, Olivia assumed the only reason why he mentioned returning to the bedroom was another quick romp. However if you do possess something to alleviate this throbbing headache and my churning stomach, don't hold out on us. In all the time she and Darcy had been together, Darcy had proven to her on numerous occasions that while yes, he did possess some brilliance, that even surprised her at times, his gray matter was centric around a good lay instead of logic. Now was one of those moments that made her question if he was brilliant. Olivia was floored when Darcy mentioned he desperately wanted to see the crime scene it was as if he had read her mind and knew she had been trying to piece together a way to see the whore's tattered body. Why don't we go? She questioned, attempting to contain her excitement. If she was going to convince Darcy, the best way was to appeal to his second head. What sort of woman would I be, she punctuated her statement by pressing her body firmly against his, her large supple breasts pressed teasingly against the smooth plains of his chest. Olivia allowed his mind to silent any disquiet he might have had felt and instead let him visualize in his mind's eye the concealed curves that lay beneath her borrowed clothing -if I kept you away from the scene of Jack the Ripper's second victim. Was it considered 'playing dirty' if she knew how to use what she had to get what she wanted? There were some who would agree that it was, but she considered it as being creative. I'm sure a big, strong man like you, she cooed seductively, brushing her pillowy lips against the sensitive skin of his lobe, her breath hot and raspy as she finished her thought, can protect me again anything.