For Eggsy

Before Ann Walker, before coal pits, before politics, Anne Lister spent about half her (chaotic, busy, vibrant) days outside of England. She first came to Paris and learned the language of aristocratic women who would not marry or who were married merely for show. After those heady years in her twenties, she felt more peace to enjoy life. Or, well, peace - there hasn't been a day in her life spent *peacefully*. But at least she could spend days on end not following the next lovely woman willing to take her on, and nights unmarred by doubt over her own unusual character.

Unbeknownst to her, she left a trail of broken hearts during her travels through Europe, between mountain peaks and glamorous cities. With age came confidence, and confidence looks good on Anne Lister. Just like her clothing looks good on her tonight: in Vienna, the fashion is always *big*, whatever it is, and Anne stands out in her sober attire. She's wearing a slim black suit with a long skirt, a little broad in the shoulders and narrow in the hips. Viennese tailors give generous nods to all things military, and her jacket is adorned with gold floss and big brass buttons. The party is informal enough that she's wearing her top hat instead of ribbons and feathers in her hair, and her boots are sturdy enough that dancing is an easy feat.

Enjoying life also means enjoying women. While talking to the local aristocracy about the quality of the water just outside of Vienna and its purported healing abilities, she catches the eye of a lovely young thing. She catches her eye later, while knocking back a quick glass of wine, and then turns back around to find her when she sees her slipping out into the fresh air.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

formerself

It's her first time in Vienna.

Anyone who'd known Gemma Unwin as a girl, dipping and thieving her way around Camden, wouldn't recognise the refined creature sipping delicately from a champagne couple and charming the local nobility in only slightly accented German. Being friendly while trying not to be *so* remarkable that she'll attract too much attention. It's easy enough, she reckons. The rich are like magpies - clever enough, but easily distracted by shiny objects.

And maybe she herself is a little distracted by the tall, handsome woman in a top hat of all things, but she can't let herself linger. Her mark has started moving, heading out into the rose garden, and she needs to engage him while they're unobserved. It's probably the only chance she's going to get.

She snags another glass of champagne on her way outside.

From:

jackthelass

Drat - there goes that excuse. Anne puts the second glass she'd picked up back down, carrying just her own back. She's very briefly waylaid by someone she'd met last time she was here, an older but charming lady with her hair up in a big heap of curls. Anne kisses her hand and tells her she would be simply delighted if they could talk again tonight, but she's just heading - yes, well, just a few moments -

Good. Now, she thinks she saw the woman head towards the rose garden. She follows her there, making good time with her fast pace.

From:

formerself

Fortunately (?), Eggsy's mark is known for 'having a keen eye for the fairer sex' (per Harry's description) or 'being a fucking pig' (Eggsy's analysis). Count Leopold von Breuner is young and rich and would very soon have the pick of whatever young virginal heiresses catch his eye, except he won't, because his business puts England at risk and there are certain parties who won't be having that.

All she has to do is cross his path and he oozes into her personal space, wondering who the second glass is for, casually ignoring her faint protests that she's brought it out for a friend.

From:

jackthelass

Perfect. What better than a terrible man to make Anne look even better? Not that she thinks of it like that, but it has worked for her successfully quite a few times. Anne hears her protests, and quickly steps up to the plate:

"And here I was bringing you a glass," Anne says, laughing like it's a very funny coincidence. "You're so kind to show me the rose garden. Apologies for interrupting, Herr...?"

From:

formerself

He turns puce, aggravated as only a predator can be when distracted from their prey.

"Graf von Breuner," he corrects sharply, placing almost comic emphasis on his title. "And I forgive you for the interruption, however-"

"It's my fault," Eggsy says, quickly, gently, and holds out the champagne to him like a peace offering. He needs to fucking take it. There's enough poison in the glass to kill a horse. "Please, your Lordship. Miss Lister and I will leave you to your thoughts."

She's been paying attention.

From:

jackthelass

Ah. Anne gives her a bright smile, then him, then graciously keeps her glass to herself. Bit silly, to go about exchanging the exact same glass of champagne.

"As you will," the Graf says, as he reluctantly takes his champagne and turns around. No sign yet of him pouring it into the bushes, so Eggsy should be alright while her new companion turns to her and says:

"And here I am, wondering about your name, Miss...?"

From:

formerself

Eggsy watches him go, keeping a careful eye on him - only looking away when she sees him lift the rim of the champagne glass to his lips. Thank God. There's a witness now, of course, but how likely is it that she'd make the connection?

"Oh, ah - Hart. Gemma Hart." Her tone is carefully cultured, accent landing somewhere around moneyed London. "Forgive me, I overheard your name earlier and it seemed best that we knew each other."

From:

jackthelass

"Miss Hart," she acknowledges the name with, as she takes a sip of her own champagne. The count is walking along, eyes roaming to find a new young, vulnerable woman.

"I thought you'd forgive the intrusion, considering the circumstances. Did you know him at all?"

From:

formerself

"He...bumped into me, earlier," Eggsy says, because she's learned a lady does not say things like copped a feel in polite society. She too is less lavishly dressed than some of the other guests, but there's a lot of cleavage on show. "But before that we'd never met. Do you know the host, or...?"

There seem to have been a lot of friends-of-friends type invitations going out.

From:

jackthelass

Anne has absolutely noticed, but her eyes don't stray now. Polite young ladies who might not be aware of the possibilities there are with women don't tend to like things to be quite so obvious so soon.

"Oh, not personally, but I know Fraulein von Ommern." The hostess' niece. "She's very gracious with her invitations. And how lucky I was to have been invited tonight, hm?"

From:

formerself

"Oh?"

Eggsy tucks a stray strand of blonde-brown hair behind her ear. Maybe she's just glad she was able to protect a younger woman, or encounter another Englishwoman in a strange city. Maybe.

"What makes you say that, Miss Lister?"

From:

jackthelass

Anne's eyes crinkle charmingly when she smiles and bends a little closer to her. She's experienced enough to know that instinct is a very reliable thing indeed, and instinct is telling her that that's an in.

"Well, the company has been exquisite so far. And how lovely to find a taste of home, so far away from home."

And tasting is something she'd be very happy to do. Not that she's saying so now, she just sips her champagne. See? Tasting.

From:

formerself

"And a little further yet from your home, I'd say," Eggsy says, letting a small smile play on her lips. "You're from - up north somewhere. Yorkshire?"

From:

jackthelass

"Ah, a very good ear," she exclaims, raising her glass a little in triumph for her new friend. "Yes. Halifax in Yorkshire. I thought I'd all but got rid of the accent, but it appears I'm no match for your ear."

From:

formerself

"It's just a very slight hint. I like it," Eggsy says, immediately. God knows how this woman would take her real voice, coarse and common as it is. Probably by checking she's still got all her valuables on her person. "Honestly, it's just nice to find someone else speaking English."

Her French and German are....fine, but she has to keep her wits about her to keep up with conversation.

From:

jackthelass

"Your German sounded excellent," she says, from what little she'd heard. In reality, she too thinks it's mostly just fine, but a little flattery goes a long way. She turns around and offers her her arm as she starts to walk through the paths cut through thick rose bushes. The perfume truly is wonderful.

"How long have you been here for? Who are you with?"

From:

formerself

Eggsy takes Anne's arm lightly, walking with her.

"My uncle, Henry, although I imagine he's found some quiet corner to retire to by now. He doesn't much care for these events."

Somewhere not very far away, she can hear what very much sounds like someone vomiting violently into a rosebush.

From:

jackthelass

Goodness. Not a sound Anne wants to navigate them towards. She takes a left and guides them deeper into the garden, towards maze-like bushes.

"But you do? Here on your own account, taking in the sights, the people?"

From:

formerself

"I all but ordered him to bring me here," she says, leaning in a little closer as if sharing a confidence. "But I enjoy being able to explore the city a great deal more than these parties."

Distantly, the vomiting noise has resolved into low, wounded moaning.

"Have you been in Vienna long?"

From:

jackthelass

"Oh, not really - four weeks or so. My friend has been very generous indeed, letting me stay all this time - well, I'm planning on traveling further, of course, but for now Vienna is providing so many distractions - I'm so sorry, but it doesn't sound quite all right over there, and I happen to have an interest in medicine, would you come with me and see...?"

She's already turning around, still holding on to the other woman.

From:

formerself

Well. Fuck. Eggsy might have anticipated the woman going inside in search of a doctor, but looking at him herself...?

If she claims queasiness, she suspects Anne Lister is the kind of woman who would leave her to go and investigate by herself. If she does tag along, she can at least control the situation a little.

"I - yes, all right."

From:

jackthelass

"Thank you, Miss Hart," she says with a flourish, legging it over there in a pace that makes it obvious she has no idea what a normal pace for ladies is.

"Quite gracious - and jolly fascinating, the human body, and what cures it. I spent time with Monsieur Cuvier last year, in Paris - a genius, incomparable - ah. There we are."

She lets go of Eggsy's hand with a light squeeze, then kneels down next to the Count. Anne looks mildly surprised to see it's him, and starts taking his pulse without asking too much at first.

"Elevated," she says, looking at her pocket watch. Then she drops his wrist and peers into his eyes, telling Eggsy:

"One can tell an awful lot from a man's pupils. I daresay the Count is in serious distress. They're hardly responding at all."

From:

formerself

Eggsy would agree, because even if she couldn't see that his face is grey and his chin flecked with vomit? She knows exactly what was in his champagne. Which is why, when he starts coughing violently and she sees the spray of droplets of Christ-knows-what into the air, she grabs Anne hard by the shoulder and drags her aside, turning her away from the man.

"Hold your breath for a few seconds."

She herself is holding a handkerchief over her nose and mouth.

From:

jackthelass

Goodness. How assertive. She does so and whips out her own kerchief, looking up at Eggsy.

"It isn't consumption," she says, from behind the cloth. "This progressed far too quickly for it to have been that."

Still, better be safe than sorry. The man starts slipping down further, foam starting to form in the corners of his mouth.

From:

formerself

"You can never be too careful," Eggsy says.

The Count is curled up on himself now, foetal, drooling and making little hiccuping noises because he can't draw enough breath to cough. His throat is closing. It's an ugly death, and not as quick as she'd hoped, but it's not much longer before he's wracked by one huge final shudder and then goes still.