Roland Fellows, born into privilege but marred by tragedy, found solace in the care of his devoted servants after losing his parents in a fatal plane crash. Though excluded from the family military contracting business, Roland, indifferent to wealth and power, pursued his childhood dream of becoming an actor against his late parents' wishes.
No matter how many reports they received on their son's talent, Mr and Mrs Fellows scoffed at a child performing so well, thinking their tutors wished to suck up to the family heads using their son as a step ladder to do so. While his uncle provided a modest allowance and loyal servants, Roland's focus on acting flourished. Despite his late family's scepticism, he navigated the industry with shrewdness, avoiding unfavourable contracts and playing the long game.
His distinctive red hair and flawless complexion made him a sought-after talent, gaining him a dedicated following and B+ celebrity status by adulthood. Roland's acting life unfolded effortlessly on and off the stage. The allure of constantly changing personas fueled his passion as a child, but as success mounted, the thrill waned. Mastering roles, deceiving his fans and public alike, it all became second nature - leaving him unchallenged. Convinced that the world held no more obstacles, he embarked on a daring descent into the criminal underworld, seeking a new kind of challenge in the shadows.
He was soon assassinated by his uncle when his skill began to turn the man's investors to his side.
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In the heart of the city, nestled between the towering clockwork structures, stood an inconspicuous bookshop. Its faded lettering that read "Corono’s Corner", hinted at the contents of its innards being that of history books.
This bookstore was now run by a young man. Said man was only 17 years of age, although his known reclusive personality made him appear to others as an old hermit.
A somewhat frail man with neck long, slightly curled brunette hair, was sitting on a simple wood chair. In fact, all of the furnishings; from the wardrobe, the bookshelves, and the very desk he sat by were simply crafted.
Any 3rd party would have seen his form, and would tell you he was weak when compared to even the average citizens. This could be chalked up to his slim frame that lacked any muscle that an engineer or farmhand at the time would usually possess. No, from his soft skin, to his kind hazel eyes, and even the moss green vest that he would wear over a plain white shirt pointed to him being a librarian.
The man flips through his journal, a common leather bound book that showed signs of being worn, until he got to the first page. If anyone had seen what this young man wrote, well, shock would only come natural to them. The passage that was written read as such:
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‘I have saved the coins I stole for this journal as a way to collect these facts exactly 1 week into my possession of this body. All following entries will be made 2-3 days after the event, so be assured readers, everything written is factual as of the time.’
‘A baseline analysis as of that time revealed that I was in the body of a 11 ½ year old boy. I found this out by asking others around me questions. This is how I discovered that this gang of street urchins had been friends of the body, and who expected me to die from the severe cold that he had at the time.’
The man read further entries while a glint was present in those eyes.
‘It would seem that after my ‘exit’ in front of my uncle, I had been reincarnated in a corps. It was disadvantageous that I was without adequate funds or support, but I played the part of a friend and child thief like any professional.’
‘It should also be taken into account that although this city makes use of both magic and steam in ways that would be seen as impossible in my past life, the city that I have seen within the slums was nothing special. Almost all of the city's people are separated into districts, with only the royalty present in the palace being an exception.’
‘The following are the rankings of the districts that I uncovered:
1. The Palace (royalty, noble guests and guard resistance)
2. The 1st district (Nobel housing with high end boutiques)
3. The 2nd district (only used for low - mid Inns, restaurants and shops)
4. The 3rd district (houses for the commoners who work)
5. The slums (no paved roads, mostly shack housing, home only to gangs and orphans)’
‘I soon departed the group 2 weeks later to enact the plan that I had decided after learning the city layout and collecting useful information. My plan was to become friends with the bookstore owner, who at the time, showed signs of his apparent age.’
‘After helping organise the books on the first day, it became apparent to me that I can subconsciously translate this world's language.
All profit made by the sales of books went into feeding both me and the shop owner, who was apparently named Izel Hazelwood, only the bare minimum to stay alive.’
‘I of course used this to have the books arranged alphabetically, brightening the old man's mood, who gave up due to his faulty eyesight. I am now officially hired by him and paid with meagre food scraps and the free access to the 100 strong history books present.’
‘For those unaware, let me tell you reader why I have used this plan over others. As I had discovered while taking part in the urchins’ small heists, the only place deemed ‘untouchable’ in these slums was this very shop.
This was due to its conditions, that being the lack of customers leading to the old man not having to pay the tax off the gangs, and the books themselves not being worth the effort to steal and sell.’
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A later chapter was read by the man.
‘It has now been officially 5 years since my possession, and 1 year since the passing of old man Izel, leaving me with the shop.
This puts my body at 16 ½ years of age.
Although I have the official Will that he wrote during his last days, not one person over this past year has questioned my position as owner.
I had learnt that, although the man had a granddaughter still alive somewhere in the city, they had fallen out and as such he had no one but me to inherit this place.
Although wishing that I could say I got a warm fuzzy feeling inside from helping the old man pass on with far fewer regrets, that would be far from the truth.’
‘I have lost my empathy since I first became an actor for the masses, it was… easier, that way.
Due to living within the slums, and without any income for that matter, I had to use my experience doing my own stunts to escape after stealing money. This led to a bad taste forming within my mouth, why should I have to run from others when I can be so much MORE?
The man reads the final line of that date.
'I have named this plan:
The masquerade of DR. Jekyll and MR Hyde’.