literature

A Diffrent Ripper

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Literature Text

The dull light in the bar shone mostly on the stage, the man stood with bright eyes that reflected in the lights as he toyed with cards, preparing his act before glancing to the paper.  It had been all over the news, He'd earned the name 'Jack The Ripper'.. killing prositutes around the whitechapel… the bars business had gone through the roof amongst the darker parts of the society since it was discovered one of the victims was murdered outside the small tavern.  Not that any of this affected the bright eyed, bushy tailed Louisianian magician that now graced the stage, making cards spin between his fingers and fly across the bar without touching them.

He'd locked eyed with a dark haired and darker eyed man who sat that the bar, walking up to him with a playful smirk as the man rolled his eyes.
"Take a card."
The man adjusted his cravat and took a card, watching the young man as he winked.
"Hold onto that Mon Ami."
With that he went back up to the stage and fanned the cards in his hand.
"Sir! Put that card in ya pocket!"
The dark haired man obliged, placing it in his waistcoat pocket, the magician on the stage making each of the cards burn one by one simply just by touching them, licking his lips as he span the final remaining card to show a 7 of diamonds.
"Mon Cher? Be this your card?"
The man at the bar raised an eyebrow as he nodded then reached for his card to see it had become the ace of hearts, laughing and actually applauding the slender and curious magician.  With that, the magician took a bow and left the stage, no-one else in the bar seemingly affected by the man's performance as he approached the bar.

"Quite a trick you have there…"
The man spoke as the magician ordered a drink of tonic water with a hint of whisky to it.
"Boy gotta make money o'er here somehow sir.  Thanks fer bein' involved… last time I be tryin an audience trick.. well… I got roughed up…"
The man took a sip of his own whisky.
"do have a name conjurer?"
The magician raised an eyebrow.
"Do I owe you money?"
The man furrowed his brow, scratching at his sideburns.
"No… I don't belive so…"
The magician smirked.
"Den I call meself Remy LeBeau… but Me stage name be Gambit…"
The man smiled.
"Remy.. You an American Remy?"
Remy rubbed the back of his neck.
"I be native ta New Orlean'… Had a leave durin' d'witch hunts dat spread through der a few years back… Me tricks all be learnt but.. der be parts'a I dat makes I a true magician… anyway, what be your name Sir?"
Remy offered a hand, the man taking it with a small smile to show slightly pointed teeth.
"Detective James Howlett… though people on the team refer to me as Logan."
Remy smirked slightly, Logan sliding the card along the bar back to him, Remy licking his lip.
"Keep 'dat… D'card dat be appearin in ya pocket be a card dat describes ya… d'Ace a hearts Is that of a lover.. but one afraid to get tied up in a relationship… And from what I been hearing of the name ya gave I.. you be trailin D'Ripper… ya could use d'luck a' d'cards…"
Remy licked his lips once more, finishing his drink and standing with a smile.
"If ya be needin assistance… I live above dis 'ere tavern… come find I…"
Logan nodded in understanding as Remy turned his back and disappeared to behind the bar, leaving Logan to his thoughts.


The trail had pretty much gone dead… there hadn't been another victim and no more crafty letters from the perpetrator even to give them a hint.. This would be the first case Logan couldn't crack, and he didn't like that… his mind wandered to the magician he met in the bar as he stared into the mirror of a swanky west end hotel.  To travel from his house outside of London was too awkward, the yard paid for a hotel room…

His fingers ran along the edges of the playing card he span between his hands… there had been something about that man that hadn't struck Logan right when he spoke… the story of being from New Orleans had no doubt in his head… the accent was unmissable.  There was something else, an element to him that was… untrustworthy... and almost fascinating…

Cold water stung at his face, roughened by coarse soap and blunt razors meaning the detective now was adorned in stubble, a look he was starting to appreciate as his mind reran the events of the evening in whitechapel, and almost before he realized what was going on, Logan was wearing his overcoat and hailing a hansom.
So I am now a mad Remy x Logan shipper... thanks to my friend Kellie!

And I love Jack the ripper...

SYNOPSIS!

In victorian london, grizzly murders are being committed... the police are baffled, even the well known James Howlett... but what link could a bar magician from New Orleans have to the crimes of one known as 'Jack the Ripper'?
© 2013 - 2024 Casinovasvictory
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