<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/a/a2/9439_1213355092507_500_196.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Mathew Cuthbert<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>None<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 4th, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Evening<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Leaving a Flower Shop<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong><br/><hr/><br/>The card’s had been particularly kind to Mathew that night, and he’d been in top form to take advantage of what they offered.  He’d won the biggest pot of the night with a pair of queens—one of hearts—and a trio of aces.  Quite pleased with himself, he headed over to a flower shop and purchased a dozen roses—with at least a few of the more obvious thorns still intact—and pinned the cards among them, then headed back out of the shop hoping to discover the whereabouts of Miss Whately to give her the gift.<br/><br/>After all, what use was money if you couldn’t lavish affection on a comely young woman, or luck if you couldn’t boast about it to a worthy rival!<br/><br/>He took a few steps down from the florist and a series of screams cut across the night.  Switching the flowers quickly to one hand, he jerked a box of something out of his coat pocket at looked around.  After a few repitions of the mens gurgling death throes, he got an idea of what direction they’d come from.  Turning in the opposite direction, he prepared to break into a run…<br/><br/>Then a woman’s scream joined them!<br/><br/>“Bloody hell!” he cursed, spinning 180 and breaking towards the sound of the screams.  “Bloody, bloody hell!”<br/>