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“An archive of things that never happened”. An in-character forum for fanfiction and roleplaying. Beware - spoilers abound!

A Remarque-Able Party Messages in this topic - RSS

The Atumian Sputum
The Atumian Sputum
Posts: 107

3 days ago
Honey.
Violin.
Wine glasses.
Sticky piano keys.
Broken strings.
Shards of glass.
A cry erupts from somewhere in the crowded hall.
Drunken, delighted heads turn to see a drunken, delighted figure flying up into the air.
The tiara glimmers.
The wine flies.
The rapier glints.
Well, who else could it be?
The group of Bohemians catch Oscar as he comes falling back down, shaking with giggles and a slight bout of nausea from the unexpectedly high journey into the sky. Who knew artists and poets were so strong?
“Thank you, darlings, thank you,” he says, stumbling away from the group before they can launch him again, unsteady in his odd shoe combination of one crystal slipper and one riding boot.
The room is packed, filled to the brim with dancing actors, drunken painters, flirting poets, singing prostitutes. The bohemian lower class of London have flooded the rented-out ballroom, more and more of Veilgarden’s resident population abandoning their posts at pubs, galleries, streetcorners, studios, to gather together at this month’s big party, just as they had last month, just as they would the next month.
This month it seemed to be Oscar Remarque’s turn to give Veilgarden a reason to drink and shout (other than tradition), and damned if he wasn’t doing a good job of it.
Gypsy songs play from the corner of the room.
Attendants shout, sing, careen, along.
Jars of honey pass their way around the hall.
Random commencements of independent songs burst out in various places, delightfully dissonant from the band’s melody.
Somewhere, a group of rather drunk and rather lost scientists get inspired by Oscar’s flight and fling Benthic’s prize student so high into the air he begins to develop plans for a sort of aeroplane.
It’s a hell of a party.

(A party! In celebration of one year on the forum ((a slightly late anniversary for those of you in the UK)), I’ve decided to host a bash. Characters of any sort are invited, from zailors to Fingerkings, and new RPers are encouraged to come and introduce their characters - after all, what way more stylish to enter London than at a party? Arguments, honey-hallucinations, brawls, and attention-seizing is encouraged, but do refrain from doing anything to completely halt the party, and be polite towards your fellow RPers ((though don't hesitate to throw some fists)). Have fun!)

--
Straight outta Dahut.
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ForScience
ForScience
Posts: 62

3 days ago
Florence is only a little bit tipsy, but she gleefully joins in on the scientist-tossing action.

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/ForScience - The Intrepid Scholar. A dauntless yet melancholy scientist who would like nothing better than to unravel the deepest mysteries of the Neath.

http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/rainbowsprinkles- The Pathetic Seeker. She tries her best, really! It's just that she isn't good at anything. She can't even destroy herself properly.
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Drake Dynamo
Drake Dynamo
Posts: 368

3 days ago
A bearded man enters the party with a small entourage. Accompanying him is a teenage girl, a short man whose face is covered in warts, and a man with one eye. This is the Antioch, along with his daughter Persephone, and his associates Henry the Goblin and One-Eyed Bob. Henry and Bob immediately break away to find the booze. Persephone sticks with her father, as he seeks to find the man of the hour, Oscar.

Before they can get to the party's generous host, the Antioch finds numerous hands grab him, and hoist him into the air. He lands back down on a sea of waiting hands. Persephone eagerly steps forward.

"Oh, do me next!" She exclaims. Before her father can intervene, a group of rowdy young men have all taken position around the ingenue, and whirl her up into the air. The Antioch shakes his head in fatherly concern. Someone pats him on the back. The Antioch turns to find himself face to face with his host.

"Don't worry, she'll be alright," Oscar proclaims, before he is swept away by another rush of bohemians. The Antioch cracks a small grin.

Well, this is bound to be quite the evening.
edited by Drake Dynamo on 4/20/2017

--
Drake Dynamo -Correspondent, Hesperidean Cider Drinker & Matchmaker
Emma Dynamo- Pulled from the past, ready to make a splash
The Antioch - The Coffee God (I do not check this account often)
Mr. Mauvais - A skulduggerous fellow, chopped up for the time being (Only active during seasonal events)

If you need to discuss RP matters, I can typically be found on the IRC in #Argo.
Interested in hunting the Shade with us? Check out our google doc!
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Shadowcthuhlu
Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1397

3 days ago
Dirae Erinyes strides in, arm in arm with Evensong. Evensong thinks they look dashing, most of the attendants would go with "fashionably acceptable." The night cut frock helps off set that concealing mask, and salivating gloves. Despite that, they are confident -- striding in without any of their usual slouches. Which is why they keep having to dodge the low hanging light fixtures.

Evensong is more nervous, despite actually being well-dressed. It may be because of a lifetime of training in the Great Game has ingrained fading in the background as second nature. To dress so you are instantly forgotten. Training at odds with the irrigo dyed parabola gown, the amber tiara crown, or the many jeweled accessories. Each time this happens, she promise to never let Dirae Erinyes pick out her outfit. A promise she knows she will break, as she has every time before.

"Don't look so stressed, love. Hopefully everyone will get drunk fast enough that you can snack on the candles in peace."

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Dirae~Erinyes
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anarchetype
anarchetype
Posts: 23

3 days ago
Jimmy Casket enters the party wearing a simple brown cloak, simple pants. He's carrying a bloody knife, and blood seems to be on him as well, although there are no visible wounds on him it is clear he has been murdering. He scans the party, looking for his quarry.

--
Anarchetype: http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Anarchetype
My Seeker alt: http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Chase%20Stein
Jimmy Casket: http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Jimmy%20Casket
All invites are welcome. Please no seeker betrayals.
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Lord Gazter
Lord Gazter
Posts: 573

3 days ago
Lord Gazter is content with his fill of wine. He travels along the outer edges of the hall and along the way he passes a group informing each other about the current fashions, a rather distressed gentleman in a honey addled state shouting something about bats, a duelist regaling others with tales of her exploits, at least a dozen of the empress's “cousins”, and a number of guests in various states of undress. It is quite the bohemian affair.

A group recognize the nobleman and invite him over. A few questions are asked about infernal fashion and current art. A rather raucous gentleman among them shares a bawdy joke and rather portly gentleman among them tells a joke about a cat, a snake, and a bat, or was it a bat, weasel, and a rat? Lord Gazter finishes up the pleasantries with the group, and continues on his way through the hall.

--
Lord Gazter: a genial and charming gentleman of noble birth.

Victoria Crow: a spirited la.. young woman and an expert troublemaker.
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