Shadows by Gaslight
Posted: Thu Jun 01, 2023 11:37 am
The young girl sat on the edge of the quay, legs dangling over the side. She sat up straight, hands interlocked but looses in her lap, gazing across the wide stretch of river to the bank on the other side.
The girl wasn’t really paying attention to whatever was happening on that far bank, as although her eyes were facing that direction her vision was within, looking back to the past.
In the multi-facetted reflections of the water’s surface, Cheung Moon saw herself leaning over the gunwale of the merchant ship on which she was brought to this strange, noisy, dirty and unpleasant place that was apparently the beating heart of the world.
If this place really was this beating heart then the outlook for the world and for Gaia were poor indeed.
She hated it here. Hated it almost as much as the garou here hated their Irish counterparts which was almost as much as they hated the Wyrm.
Which Moon considered the ultimate irony as this whole country seemed Wyrm tainted.
She had yet to meet anyone here who had even a modicum of respect for the natural world and this city seemed to exude weaver and wyrm both, intertwined, both feeding off one another.
She relaxed her posture, suppressing the urge to scream at the sky.
Beside her was a small cloth bag with drawstrings which she pulled apart.
Inside were two packages wrapped in grase-proof paper. The first contained three plump dimsum, which she ate, popping them in one at a time, savouring the rich flavours of home.
A small boat chugged and puffed its way up river, belching steam and smoke from its corona topped stack.
Moon felt she could hear Gaia groan as it passed, an object of disgust that poured forth it entropic fumes.
but then, at the bow she spotted a small blond haired girl whose ringlets swayed and buffeted in the wind. She seemed to be giggling at the rush of air and the spray of water as the boat pushed against the sluggish brackish waters of the River Thames.
That little girl exuded sweet innocence that suddenly gave Moon pause for thought. This city was teeming with children, many who lived harsh lives either with or without parents, either with or without love.
It was a sad truth, Moon considered, that almost all of those sweet young lives would be tainted by the black, soot stained heart of this city. And as far as Moon had witnessed, they would lose their faith in all but a select few of their closest kin and friends. That general goodness that most people are born with would warp into distrust, bitterness, jealousy and even hatred.
Again Moon sighed heavily and stared down at her reflection in the murky sewage filled waters below.
then suddenly, she was filled with excitement and reached into the small bag and produced the remaining package.
this was one of the few discoveries she had made in this Gaia-forsaken place that gave her a glimmer of hope. After all, how could people who were capable of making something so exquisite be all bad?
gingerly unwrapping the brown grease-proof paper she smiled down at the pastry with the sweet white frosting with the cherry on top, icing it was called according to her currently absent spirit companion.
She bit into it with glee, utterly enjoying the indulgence, savouring the different flavours and textures from the sweet pasty case, the layer of succulent cherry jam, the light fluffy frangipane cake that tasted heavily of almonds to the sugary sweet hit of the fondant icing.
Monkey had told her that this particular delight was called a Bakewell Tart.
She finished the cake and gave a satisfied sigh followed by a very lady-like little burp which made her giggle.
It was such an indulgence, she knew, but if she couldn’t treat herself on this auspicious day, then when could she?
Today she turned sixteen.
“Oi!” a deep, rough voice barked not too far away from her, ruining the young lady’s sense of euphoria.
Lookng up she saw two men in dark blue uniforms with silver buttons and a tall oddly rounded helmet adorned with some sort of badge.
Both men also sported short sturdy looking clubs that dangled on a leather thong from a hoop on their belts.
She recognised them as police officers.
one of the unclipped his truncheon and idly waved it in her general direction.
“Get out of here, China-girl. We don’t want your kind hanging around here. Go on, be off with you!” the copper said at her.
Moon heard the words but had no idea what the man was saying and just stared up at him.
“Go on! Get off with you girl!” the policeman waved the club again and this time Moon got his meaning.
She scrambled up to her feet and bowed to the policemen, apologising in Mandarin, which of course neither man understood.
The young girl scurried away and both men watched her go off in the direction of Limehouse.
“Bloody Chinese!” one of them grumbled.
“Yeah,” the other agreed. “Pretty little thing though.”
Moon walked away until she was out of sight from the police and stopped.
Ahead of her was Limehouse. What a shit hole!
Where to begin, she wondered?
The girl wasn’t really paying attention to whatever was happening on that far bank, as although her eyes were facing that direction her vision was within, looking back to the past.
In the multi-facetted reflections of the water’s surface, Cheung Moon saw herself leaning over the gunwale of the merchant ship on which she was brought to this strange, noisy, dirty and unpleasant place that was apparently the beating heart of the world.
If this place really was this beating heart then the outlook for the world and for Gaia were poor indeed.
She hated it here. Hated it almost as much as the garou here hated their Irish counterparts which was almost as much as they hated the Wyrm.
Which Moon considered the ultimate irony as this whole country seemed Wyrm tainted.
She had yet to meet anyone here who had even a modicum of respect for the natural world and this city seemed to exude weaver and wyrm both, intertwined, both feeding off one another.
She relaxed her posture, suppressing the urge to scream at the sky.
Beside her was a small cloth bag with drawstrings which she pulled apart.
Inside were two packages wrapped in grase-proof paper. The first contained three plump dimsum, which she ate, popping them in one at a time, savouring the rich flavours of home.
A small boat chugged and puffed its way up river, belching steam and smoke from its corona topped stack.
Moon felt she could hear Gaia groan as it passed, an object of disgust that poured forth it entropic fumes.
but then, at the bow she spotted a small blond haired girl whose ringlets swayed and buffeted in the wind. She seemed to be giggling at the rush of air and the spray of water as the boat pushed against the sluggish brackish waters of the River Thames.
That little girl exuded sweet innocence that suddenly gave Moon pause for thought. This city was teeming with children, many who lived harsh lives either with or without parents, either with or without love.
It was a sad truth, Moon considered, that almost all of those sweet young lives would be tainted by the black, soot stained heart of this city. And as far as Moon had witnessed, they would lose their faith in all but a select few of their closest kin and friends. That general goodness that most people are born with would warp into distrust, bitterness, jealousy and even hatred.
Again Moon sighed heavily and stared down at her reflection in the murky sewage filled waters below.
then suddenly, she was filled with excitement and reached into the small bag and produced the remaining package.
this was one of the few discoveries she had made in this Gaia-forsaken place that gave her a glimmer of hope. After all, how could people who were capable of making something so exquisite be all bad?
gingerly unwrapping the brown grease-proof paper she smiled down at the pastry with the sweet white frosting with the cherry on top, icing it was called according to her currently absent spirit companion.
She bit into it with glee, utterly enjoying the indulgence, savouring the different flavours and textures from the sweet pasty case, the layer of succulent cherry jam, the light fluffy frangipane cake that tasted heavily of almonds to the sugary sweet hit of the fondant icing.
Monkey had told her that this particular delight was called a Bakewell Tart.
She finished the cake and gave a satisfied sigh followed by a very lady-like little burp which made her giggle.
It was such an indulgence, she knew, but if she couldn’t treat herself on this auspicious day, then when could she?
Today she turned sixteen.
“Oi!” a deep, rough voice barked not too far away from her, ruining the young lady’s sense of euphoria.
Lookng up she saw two men in dark blue uniforms with silver buttons and a tall oddly rounded helmet adorned with some sort of badge.
Both men also sported short sturdy looking clubs that dangled on a leather thong from a hoop on their belts.
She recognised them as police officers.
one of the unclipped his truncheon and idly waved it in her general direction.
“Get out of here, China-girl. We don’t want your kind hanging around here. Go on, be off with you!” the copper said at her.
Moon heard the words but had no idea what the man was saying and just stared up at him.
“Go on! Get off with you girl!” the policeman waved the club again and this time Moon got his meaning.
She scrambled up to her feet and bowed to the policemen, apologising in Mandarin, which of course neither man understood.
The young girl scurried away and both men watched her go off in the direction of Limehouse.
“Bloody Chinese!” one of them grumbled.
“Yeah,” the other agreed. “Pretty little thing though.”
Moon walked away until she was out of sight from the police and stopped.
Ahead of her was Limehouse. What a shit hole!
Where to begin, she wondered?