#johnny fours

- Malintilde, the Masked Toygetter

• (she / he / them )

Born as an orphan on the surface, it is of little surprise that after being abandoned to their fate by relatives they can no longer recall, that Malintilde—as she proclaims herself to be—ran to the Neath to find his new home, drawn in by wonders and promises of a 'kingdom run by kids that soar over rooftops and cop riches from the grown'.

Reared up by fellow urchins until one no longer and raised on the shows of Mahogany Hall, learning their tricks from cut purses and other shady sorts, Mal is a theatrical soul with a flair for costumes, masks, and finery. He deeply enjoys dressing the part for every and every burglary and scam, and aspires to become a true, never-before-seen criminal mastermind unlike any other. Hence, a love of clocks that make noise, sound, racket—the harder a theft is for her to pull off, the more he adores the act!

She became part of Helimeri's ensemble through his acquaintance and quick-struck friendship with Jonathan on one of their many visits to New Newgate, after which he decided to become the group's guide for all things Neath.

At a small fee, of course. And a jab at naming the bunch. Her and Heli fuss a little over who's really in charge.

[ Nicknames : Any and all insults by Johnny, 'that ratbag sod' by Helimeri. ]

- 'Johnny Fours', the Unright Ailsman

• ( he / him )

The bastard child of a servant and his employer, 'Jonathan' was almost destined for life with a silver spoon in his mouth... until the whole affair was uncovered and his mother thrown out of the home, her now ex-husband set to remarry and continue raising 'Johnny's only and older brother with a new wife.

It is safe to say, he hasn't had a very swell go of things, being expected to make up for his own making by committing himself to factory work since he was young and whatever else paid for the bills. One blessing in his lot was his brother, whom sought him out and shared with him the luxuries of books and other means of education, which he ate up like a moth set loose in a closet. The second was his meeting of his brother's betrothed, ______ _____, and her younger brother, _____ _____, with whom he grew most close to, in spite of the scandal it accumulated.

But then, you know. There was the concert.

Now he's come to the Neath, with everyone else trucking behind him, practically. Wouldn't call him a ringleader or anything so fancy as that, but he makes a swell falling acrobat.

[ Nicknames : 'Plum' by Malintilde, 'Curls' solely by Hellena, any and all insults by Helimeri. ]

- Helimeri, the Unsuitable Socialite

• ( she / her / the royal 'we' )

Adopted by Lady _____ when the noblewoman struggled to conceive a proper heir of any sort and fell to desperate pressures, Helimeri lived briefly with all the luxuries of a golden child, taught proper manners, doted on, well-educated, well-dressed, displayed to society... Then _____ was born. Miraculously. A true blessing, really. Only then, it made her, both as her mother's most dreaded secret and, a young girl at the time, not so, um. Golden, anymore.

Where a father's praise and tenderness once was, and a mother's objective care, came a tidal wave of chilly isolation compared to her previous glory.

It was not as if she was ever unaware of how precarious her position was. But the reminder growing louder was not so beneficial for her. Safe to say, her first years of growing up with _____ were not pleasant in the least, but she maintained her tongue and mind to the ends she could. She even managed to secure a betrothal to start a decent life for herself, with a talented musician no less...! Managed. Had.

She knows Johnny well. He doesn't blame her for what she did, though part of him wishes she'd asked him instead. No one down here blames her either. Then again, no one down here knows who she is. The gossip, the gab, poet, suck-up, liar—those adjacent things. But it's a sweeter pit to suck on that way.

Everyone wants something from her. So she'll indulge the world. A favor here, a promise there. Util her say means something.

[ Nicknames : 'Heli' in general, 'that sodding woman' by Malintilde, 'Our Fair Lady' by Johnny. ]

- Hellena 'Misit', the Silent Pugalist

• ( she / her )

Born to Lord and Lady _____, Hellena was as blue in blood as sapphire stones made ink. Only, she was not so easily made into a fine powder, or put to paintings so neatly. Not that she didn't enjoy the arts, why, she experimented often with her sister's makeup as a young child! If only she'd been born into the right bones and skin for it. If only her father's doting and pride had meant something, outside of classes and fitness.

But what use is there in complaining? She's a grown woman now, and she can dress and act however the hell she likes. As far as anyone might be concerned, _________ is likely dead at seas, and _____ has been missing for some time. She learned what she could from both names, both faces. In the Neath, she'll shape one for herself. An unrecognizable self. Fangs and claws and beauty in the way of curling fur.

She'll shatter muskets. She'll smother fires. She'll bite the voice out of the past. Everything and anything to protect that which falls close to her chest. The strongwoman will bend fate's bars.

[ Nicknames : 'My favorite wall' by Malintilde, 'Missy' and increasingly affectionate pet names by Johnny. ]

- Homer Otto, the Repentent Deacon

( he / him )

An old fellow, the graying deacon was once a man of very resigned, civil means and matters, trying in earnest kindness, to provide comfort for those which pleaded with him for penance, fully dedicated to the church. But alas, one day, a certain confessional did not end in the box, and coiled and coiled and coiled and buzzed red in his skull. It dyed his dreams. Dyed him.

They say he killed that poor bloke, but certainly he'd recall doing so! Surely? Even if he cannot recall his mother's face or the color of the surface sky, or what the spots of a ladybug look like, certainly, he would know why and how and if he had committed something utterly unforgivable! He's a good man, he has been nothing but a good man!

Still, they sent him to New Newgate and the damage was done, cast out of community, church, and home. And now he's left down here to pick at the pieces and puzzle together something of a life. Cling still, to his faith, he must, for what else has he to believe when his senses and dreams, both waking and sleeping, deceive him?

Don't ask him about the folks he's gotten entangled with, he's not happy about it himself. Or so he says. But, he believes, someone, someone has to try to help these people...! What happened to repentance?! What happened to forgiveness and confession?!

He'll help and guide, for even if his mind is adrift, it is still a hearty ship with shore in mind. If he is lost, if he is without salvation, he will make use of what remains. He will write and pray. He will write. He will write. He will write in the black inks red dreams cannot touch.

He will save as many lives as he can.