16th December, 1892 — Somewhere in the Winter Labyrinth, Padmore Park

This was supposed to have been fun. Had her gaggle of old schoolfriends meant to skitter off around a corner without her? Surely not, Jemima had thought, but when she rounded that same corner, having paused to re-lace her winter boot, they were nowhere to be seen; all that remained of them was a distant echo of their laughter.

Alone, any amusement at the winter lights and the labyrinth had quickly drained away. Alone, Jemima’s mind alit upon that dreaded activity – thinking – and she swiftly began to do just that to excessive measure. Whoever had decided mazes were a good idea? What was the trick about them, something about left or right turns? What if she had to encounter another riddle before anyone let her out? She hadn’t been any use with the group’s last one. She hadn’t been a Ravenclaw, for Merlin’s sake! The lights in the maze had been pretty and twinkling against the twilight sky, but December nights got dark so early and now she was cloaked in the stretching shadows of the walls – she had just glanced up pleadingly at the sky when the lights in this walled passage of the labyrinth guttered out around her.

Her heart leapt about in her throat like an unsettled frog; her breaths came shallowly; her footsteps grew faster. Was that a splash of blood on the ground?* Jemima lit her wand with a shaky Lumos and glanced behind her. She could hear another set of footsteps after her. Was that her murderer? There was going to be some horrible monster in this maze, wasn’t there? Jemima swallowed and stumbled backwards, ready to fight bravely or simply face her death (more likely the latter), until her feet caught on nothing and she found herself glued, magically, to the ground.

If she had looked up, she might have seen the mistletoe looming over her, but she hadn’t the chance, because someone else had already come barrelling down this path towards her. Jemima, in panic – for all her practice at them, she was no natural in a nightmare – shut her eyes.

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*reader, it was someone’s spilled mulled wine

  

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A magical winter labyrinth with all kinds of tricks and gimmicks to amuse, something Edgar decided to explore. The first time he went through he went as a proper gentleman with a few friends from school and had a blast. This second time through, he came as Leon Bunyip along with one of his employees who wanted the opportunity to enjoy himself. Greg was a typical heavyset working class man who worked as a bouncer at one of Edgar's gambling dens. Recently Greg had successfully foiled a customer's attempt to cheat and steal a great deal of the casino's nightly intake. Greg took the man out as well as his three accomplices, nearly getting himself killed in the process. As reward, Edgar, as his boss Leon, offered him anything he wanted within reason and a chance to tour the labyrinth had been what he wanted.

Initially he didn't know why Greg couldn't ask one of his fellow bouncers or some other friend but it turned out Greg didn't make friends and he preferred to keep work separate from his personal life. Edgar didn't care either way but it gave him a way to go to the labyrinth as a pair and then explore it on his own to see what sort of fun he could have.

With various traps and mistletoe hanging about in some areas of the maze, Edgar rather hoped to catch somebody kissing somebody they shouldn't and use it to gain blackmail money, or to have a little fun himself. Wearing a large overcoat which showed clear signs of wear, including large patches on the elbows of a slightly different colour than the main colour of the coat, Edgar made sure he looked like a decently employed Working Class man and not a upper Middleclass gentleman he truly was.

He had been following the sounds of giggling young women, not expecting to actually catch up to any given the twists and turns of the labryinth. Eventually the sounds faded away as they took another path while the sneaky maze decided to close off that path and open a new one. Edgar went down the new path, unaware a lone woman was up ahead, hidden from view by the twists and turns of the maze. He wasn't making any attempt to be especially quiet or loud, walking in his normal steps, while keeping an eye out for any of the sticky traps he had encountered before.

Turning a bend he noticed the path ahead was in pitch darkness. The only source of light from the faint glow of other paths and the stars above. The tall walls were more than enough to keep the floor in dark shadow so he couldn't quite see what was up ahead. Pausing, he listened while he waited for his eyes to adjust. He could hear breathing, rapid with fear or excitement. Before he could think to draw his wand and cast lumos, whoever was ahead of him did just that, blinding him temporarily.

Reflexively he stepped back which moved him out of the woman's line of sight when she turned to look behind her. Perhaps she'll see a shadow or notice a shape just around the bend while Edgar let his eyes recover from the unexpected light.

Peaking around the corner, he spotted the woman who had lit her wand standing still directly under a sprig of mistletoe, her eyes closed tight in a posture that looked very much like nervous anticipation. Deciding he couldn't resist, for she was quite attractive, Edgar pushed up the brim of his cap then approached her. Grinning he leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss, one hand touching her shoulder.

@"Jemima Farley"
ooc: hope it's alright I jumped onto this one

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   Jemima Greengrass

She was so ready to meet a painful end that the touch to her shoulder and the sudden pressure of lips against hers shocked her out of her wits entirely. She knew people spoke of the dementor’s kiss, but surely that was metaphorical and dementors didn’t actually kiss people?

Not like that, anyway. Instinctively, Jemima put up a hand against his chest and opened her eyes, expecting – well, she didn’t know who she had been expecting, but he was not it. Not Jack or Justice or anyone else she’d kissed or even anyone she’d dreamed of kissing – somehow, that sort of surprise kiss might have been acceptably romantic to her – but, indeed, he was not even someone she could remember ever having met. She looked up, wide-eyed, and saw no familiarity in his face at all! Her face felt hot, and confused, and when Jemima ducked her eyes again she found patches on his coat, so – so he obviously wasn’t anyone in society, so he – had no manners, and had thought it was fine to sneak up on her and kiss her?

There was something – suspect, and wrong, and worrying about this. So – “Ex– excuse me!” Jemima stammered breathlessly, trying to sound indignant rather than afraid, and not sure she had managed either; she gave his chest a little push, and edged the slightest pace backwards. Not stuck anymore, at least (she still didn’t know why she had been stuck; she presumed this had been this working man’s trap all along). Not that there was anywhere to go from here – she shot a glance behind – but this had been a dead end of the maze, and now he was standing in her way back. Calm, Jemima; stay calm. “What – what was that?”

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The scent of the young woman up close was delicious, a sure sign she was at the very least Middle class. Edgar suspected she was most likely Upper Class given her dress and just the quality of her perfume. Not to mention the softness of her skin as he kissed her. He enjoyed it very much and was a little surprised when she pushed him away in startlement.

As he came into the Labyrinth as Leon, he was tempted to be more forceful but he didn't typically force himself upon women. In truth he rarely had the need and personally he still preferred charm, whether his normal Upper-Middle class gentleman charm or the more sly Leon Bunyip wit. Thus when the woman gave him a push, though weak and he could have easily resisted he did step back.

"I believe, M'lady, that was a kiss," he responded, tipping his cap slightly. With the same hand he pointed towards the floating sprig of Mistletoe above. "You were standing beneath the mistletoe so I assumed you were hoping for a surprise kiss from a fine looking man."

@"Jemina Farley"

  

The edges of her fear began to fray away a little when he stepped back, and although he still sounded rather presumptuous, his comment about the mistletoe caused her eyebrows to knit, disconcerted. When she took her eyes off him to dart a glance upwards, the white of the mistletoe berries glistening even in the dim light, and he didn’t use her momentary distraction to take further advantage of her, Jemima’s gaze dropped to him again with embarrassment flooding in.

So he had some manners, but... “Well,” she spluttered hotly, altogether wrongfooted by his being right about the mistletoe above her, “– I wasn’t. And you ought to have – introduced yourself, first.” Jemima wasn’t much accustomed to scolding people, particularly not strange men, which might have been why she also blurted out, “And I don’t know how I should possibly have seen if you were a fine looking man when you were – skulking in the dark.” (Oh no, that just sounded silly and petulant, and it was not as though his looks were exactly – relevant.) The problem was he could be – well, anyone! And anyone could have seen him kissing her!

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Edgar was enjoying this interaction immensely, he rather liked seeing her fear and was tempted to elevate it. Once again the few morals he had even in his Leon persona kept him from taking complete advantage. Now, if she was one of his 'working' girls that would be totally different. Sometimes the only way to get the best results from the women who worked in his brothels was to remind them who was in charge.

"Yes, I should have," Edgar agreed. "But that would have defeated the surprise of being kissed under the mistletoe and I dare say the main purpose of this maze is to bring an element of surprise. I shall introduce myself now of course, my name is Leon Bunyip."

Edgar chuckled when she proclaimed how could she see if he was fine looking when he lurked in the shadows. "In truth M'lady, I wasn't lurking, the lights in the labyrinth went out and before I could use my wand, you did so, blinding me and I must have stepped back behind the hedge while I waited for my eyes to adjust to the brightness. When I looked around the corner, I assumed you must have seen me and were waiting for your kiss under the mistletoe."

It wasn't the complete truth but close enough he hoped she would buy it. Even if she didn't, well, she could draw her own conclusions. He had followed her even though at the time he wasn't sure who was panting breathlessly, just guessed it was a woman.

@"Jemima Farley"

  

She was used to being the less confident side of a conversation, but here and now she was even more uneasy than usual, simply because he seemed so... unperturbed. Somehow that only made her more nervous.

Because nothing he did or said was remotely comforting: he seemed, if anything, amused by this. An element of surprise, he said; Jemima rather thought she had been frightened out of her wits instead. And his explanation was... almost too rehearsed, too smooth. And she still didn’t know who he was. The name Leon Bunyip gave her no help. So he... wasn’t a familiar part of her society. That meant he could be anyone.

Jemima nibbled uncertainly on her bottom lip, desperately trying to decide what to do. It had been bad enough, being lost and alone in the maze before; now she was in close proximity to a stranger who had already kissed her, and who seemed far too relaxed and not quite proper, either... Would she make a fool of herself if she tried to run? What if he took it as an insult, and she only enraged him by it? Then he might do worse. But if she stayed in his company, lingered here and someone saw them, or if he took that as a sign of encouragement on her side...

“Well, thank you, it was, um –” she couldn’t in good conscience say a pleasure, so Jemima’s voice dipped to an indecipherable mumble, “– to meet you, Mr. Bunyip, but I ought to...” Be on my way. But, not wanting to give him any more warning than she already had, she inhaled sharply and darted around him, lurching back the way she had come in a worried fast-walk. There was only one way to go, along that darkened path again, and she didn’t dare look back in case he was following her again.

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He could almost feel the young woman's nervousness and he relished it. As the man Edgar tried to present to the world to show he deserved to be upperclass he had to hide the pleasure he felt when seeing fear in others. As Leon he could enjoy it and right now he was very tempted to prolong this encounter with Miss Farley. In fact, if he was in a place he had more control over and not a magical maze where somebody could appear from around the corner at any moment, he would.

Her refusal to accept his offer to be an escort so together they could find her missing companions wasn't a surprise. A disappointment, as Edgar certainly would enjoy having a pretty woman on his arm, even for a few minutes. Then she was darting around him and he nearly grabbed her arm before she could move out of reach but restrained himself. If only this encounter had happened in town instead of in a maze where the laughter of other visitors enjoying the labyrinth could be heard.

"Good luck in finding your friends," he called after her, smirking. Maybe he'll cross her path again some day where he could introduce her to a side of life he doubted she ever imagined.

@"Jemina Farley"

ooc: That's a Wrap. I enjoyed this little encounter, hope you did too :) If you want to have these two cross paths again, let me know, I'm always happy to write :)