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The Museum of Mistakes Gift Shop Messages in this topic - RSS

Shadowcthuhlu
Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1456

1/3/2018
The Museum of Mistakes Gift Shop

A well-known pub on the edges of Veilgarden, catering mostly to writers, and to those that writers would find interesting. It’s scandalous enough to fashionable, and respectable enough that anyone who is (or simply wants) to be anyone pokes their nose in.

A devil tends the bar, with a flock of equal black and white ravens to help serve orders and provide a friendly ear. The napkins here are generous and stiff enough for good notes – and every table has a cup with pens on it.

Upstairs, there are books not yet written, never to be written, and merely forgotten. But those require a special password to the bartender. To everyone else, the booze is cheap and strong, the food filling and even cheaper, and the words plentiful. The cuckoo clock on the wall boings out an obtuse angle, two minutes before the opening time at five o clock.

(OOC: This is location for characters to wander in and get to meet each other. So far there are only two rules: Don’t tell the decency evaluators about what happens here, and don’t break the furniture.)

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Dirae%20Erinyes
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Reinol von Lorica
Reinol von Lorica
Posts: 93

1/4/2018
"Are you sure this is a pub?"

A small chuckle. Red orbs glanced at the humble sign of oak. Its owner's wrapped his dark travelling coat around his slim figure, the crimson waistcoat beneath it seeming glaringly obvious in the lamplight of Fallen London.

"Yes. I'm sure this is a pub. A rather silly name but its reputation surpasses such trivial matters."

The speaker tilted his fedora, casting a shadow over his smooth features, jet black bangs of unruly hair covered his eyes, which gleamed with amusement. 'Let's go Sebastien."

His Suave Henchman sighed before going inside. 'You go it gov'nor." The man smiled. He was a good boy. If only he had more people like him. Good workers were hard to come by nowadays.

Richard Eleison, the Conniving Scholar, walked into the misappropriately titled pub.

It was still a jolly place after all.

--

"A mug of the strongest, if may." Eleison asked as he took his seat at a corner table. "Absinthe for me. And a pint of ink! And a quill. Fetch me a quill. Never liked pens."

The black raven simply ruffled their feathers in slight annoyance before flying off to tend to his needs. Sebastien dusted off the imaginary dust on his brown suit before turning to his boss. "So...why are here?"

Indeed. That was a good question. What business did two gentlemen of shady practice have in a little pub in the streets of Veilgarden? Criminal networking? Anarchist plotting? Rubbery murdering? Truth be told...

"I haven't the foggiest idea." Eleison shrugged. He just heard of the pub's fame and decided to pay a visit. Nothing too serious. His bearded henchman said no word of complaint, though he couldn't help but notice the slightest twitch of his jaw.

Their order arrive in the form of a miniature flock of ravens ferrying a tray to the duo. The beer was gladly accepted by the Suave Henchman. The absinthe was quite satisfactory in the Conniving Scholar's opinion. The ink more so.

Deft hands jotted down bits and bobs of ideas and plans, criminal networking and such. The stuff mentioned earlier. His eyes never left the door of the pub. What wondrous individual may pass through that small frame?

Richard Eleison's signature smile flashed once again as he thought of the possibilities, it's gleam outshining the sinister glow of the Crooked Cross. My my. This will certainly be a delectable evening.

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Reinol%20von%20Lorica
Reinol von Lorica. The Sentimental Writer. He still dreams of clear skies and sun kissed forests.

Pull yourselves together!
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Dione of Argos
Dione of Argos
Posts: 19

1/4/2018
The three bells at the door tingle delightfully disharmonic, as they are woken from their slumber by an impact that sends them in a tangled mess until one of the ravens, without any direct command given by the devil, sits at the clothes-rack and solves the puzzle of the unintended Gordian Knot.

The Woman responsible for the indecent ensnarement of the bells seems unaware or uninterested in what is happening behind her back, but instead strolls to the counter. The way she looks the devil up and down clearly identifies her as one who must be new to Fallen London. She still isn’t used to those species only native to the neathy realm and not found on the surface.

The young woman has trouble keeping her head of black curls under control and has tried to achieve this task by a double silver headband and an greek style up-hairdo. Dressed in an iceblue gown that is far too thin with its many layers of chiffon over silk to be worn in that kind of weather but would perfectly fit if she would just be on her way to take the stage at Mahogany Hall. A singer? Well that is more likely than her being a magician or medium.
“Do you have Retsina?” she asks the devil bartender, immediately shacking her head, she responds before he can: “No, you wouldn’t even know what that is. Then some wine…no! Wait, I don’t believe I want to drink whatever you call wine down here. Give me some absinth than, that sounds like a safe option.”

With her glass in her hand she turns around and quickly spots the only two other guests in the pub. Hesitating for a moment she decides to walk over to their table. “I realize that is an odd question…” she addresses Eleison, and sits down on the chair opposing him without waiting to be asked to do so. “But do you have by any means killed your goldfish and buried the wretched thing in your backyard?”

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http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Dione%20of%20Argos
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Reinol von Lorica
Reinol von Lorica
Posts: 93

1/5/2018
The particular sinister air surrounding the duo vanished in an instant at the woman's query. Instead of thinking what sort of person she may be in any scheme or how much potential she possessed, they instead ha one singular thought running through their minds.

She's on to us.

Eleison cast a glance at Sebastien, only to find his cheeky Suave Henchman ducking under the mug of fungal beer as he took a massive draught. And he kept on drinking.

Clever b_stard. But now it was he who had to answer the question.

It wasn't his fault the plant ended up on his doorstep. It wasn't his fault that said plant got rooted to the parlour, which caused many a stir at the Embassy. And it definitely wasn't his fault that said plant required oddities in order to be sustained, goldfish amongst them.

He found it weary to purchase more goldfish at the Bazaar just to feed the plant. So he decided to simply gather up as much as possible and stuff them in a tank. Sadly, the passed away in not a day. The backyard served to be a suitable storage/graveyard.

Starvation kills.

So with a roll of his eye, Eleison answered her question. "Yes. We have slain, inadvertently mind you, many a goldfish. And many a goldfish now lie in the backyard."

Using the short interval between his answer and her follow up, he simply decided to ponder one thing about his life. Why hasn't he sold the d_mn plant already? It's more trouble than its worth anyways.
edited by Reinol von Lorica on 1/5/2018

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Reinol%20von%20Lorica
Reinol von Lorica. The Sentimental Writer. He still dreams of clear skies and sun kissed forests.

Pull yourselves together!
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Dione of Argos
Dione of Argos
Posts: 19

1/7/2018
Dione is completely flabbergasted by Eleison’s answer. “You did?” She is blinking from the henchman back to the gentleman back to the henchman – is he still pretending that there is any beer left in his mug?
She starts to laugh. It begins as a chuckle until she laughs wholeheartedly, wiping a tear away in the corner of her right eye.

“No….really?” she has to catch her breath. “I am sorry – I have not intended to accuse you of being a slayer of goldfish! Whale obviously, you must feel orcaward now!”

Still giggling she shakes her black curls and slips a folded piece of paper out of her sleeve and unfolds it. She clears her throat and starts reading it with a serious voice: “ I burn down my art studio, I snort the ashes like opium / I am sick of my old stuff and let it rot in a sack/ Blowing up the place, everything I have I let go of/ you better come to the Museum of Mistakes Gift Shop at 7 p.m. / or I will kill my goldfish and bury it in the yard / I have done so before and I will do it again – The so-fish-ticated murderer”

She places the letter on the table for the two men to take a look at. “By no means did I want to startle you or force you to confess something to me. I thought you might have been the one to play a prank on me, but now I see, it probably has been Ajax. He is up to a fine dressing down when I see him the next time. Please gentlemen allow me to buy you a drink to make it up to you.”

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Dione%20of%20Argos
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Reinol von Lorica
Reinol von Lorica
Posts: 93

1/9/2018
Eleison blinks once in surprise as he read the letter. His thought on the matter came out in an insant.

“Are you sure they’re not drunk?” A fair question, in his eyes. His Suave Henchman on the other hand, had other ideas.

“I’ll have a keg of rum. The proper stuff. None of that mushroom swillery.” Well at least he has his priorities straight.

...wait...has he been seeing Silas? Nevermind. Eleison clears his throat after and while and hands the paper back to her. “If that is what you wish then you may.”

A sip of absinthe. A absent minded thought. This was proving to be a rather interesting encounter. “Say...” He swirled the spirit as he chose his words carefully, “...I think it’s time for some introductions. Richard Eleison, the Conniving Scholar as they call me, and often labled as an inescapable and midnigh gentleman. My companion goes by Sebastien, a Suave Henchman. Some say he’s terrifying.”

He took another sip as he waited for her to respond.
edited by Reinol von Lorica on 1/9/2018
edited by Reinol von Lorica on 1/9/2018

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Reinol%20von%20Lorica
Reinol von Lorica. The Sentimental Writer. He still dreams of clear skies and sun kissed forests.

Pull yourselves together!
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Dione of Argos
Dione of Argos
Posts: 19

1/9/2018
She orders three more drinks and turns back to the illustrious conniving scholar and the – some say- terrifying Henchman – sounds like a penny dreadful story.

Who is thinking this cheeky Henchman is terrifying?

She rests her chin on her palm and smiles: “I think one of my favourite nicknames I had been called was: the singing snoop like I am the silly character from an operetta. My stage name is Dione of Argos and since I am fresh off the boat, I am afraid I am only labelled as the new greek background singer and opening act. Nothing inescapable in that, but I like to write my own songs too. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

She nods both to Eleison as well as Sebastien and then leans a bit closer, her voice more hushed:

“Now did you hear about the peculiar room that is supposed to be located in the back? I heard rumours but nothing particular, but wouldn’t it be just divine to get access to such an interesting place?”

As she speaks her eyes start to sparkle mischievously.

Are they by any chance as curious as I am?
edited by Dione of Argos on 1/9/2018

--
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Reinol von Lorica
Reinol von Lorica
Posts: 93

1/11/2018
"The back room...' Eleison trailed off. Ah yes, the one filled with books. Both finished and unfinished. A room closely guarded by a password. Yes, he heard of it. And he knew very well that is was no mere rumour. Nay. even if it was, all smoke leads to a fire. Always.

Sebastien thanked the young lady, Dione of Argos, or so she says. It was then he decided to speak. "I suppose access to such a place would be enlightening. Perhaps a little nudge can open this door...'

He cast a glance at the bartending devil who simply shrugged. Guess not. The first glass was drained, and so he moved on to the second.

'Dione of Argos you say? And a singer as well. You a Bohemian?' He sipped his drink. Delicious. 'Nothing much for me. Just a scholar of the Correspondence and other such matters."

And a Crooked Cross. And of course, a good friend of the Liberation. Perhaps she may be a new recruit for the Cause.

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Reinol%20von%20Lorica
Reinol von Lorica. The Sentimental Writer. He still dreams of clear skies and sun kissed forests.

Pull yourselves together!
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Dione of Argos
Dione of Argos
Posts: 19

1/13/2018
When Sebastien suggests to open the entrance by a little nudge she shakes her head disapprovingly.
What would be the sense of that? She doubts the devil can be forced by pain to open the entrance and she can not imagine someone would hide a place like that behind a mere wooden chamber door.
No, gaining entrance to the room upstairs asks for cunning and tactical considerations.

Eileison’s reaction to her question was most interesting, the man knows something more.
Of that she is sure, but is he curious enough to wish to enter the place?
That is the question.

She is not willing to let got of the opportunity to find help in getting in there just yet and ignores the man’s attempt to steer the conversation towards the Bohemian and her being a singer.

Dione’s eyes narrow, fixing her gaze on Eleison inquisitively:

“Tell me Sir, do you know something more about the library of impossible books?
The place filled with that which is not to be but is anyway, the books that no pen has touched, but do exists none the less.
As if words would claim their own existence, disregarding the Bazaar and the Masters commands.
As if thoughts are free to roam the pages whether those in power like it or not.
Have you, by any chance seen it before?”

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Dione%20of%20Argos
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Addis Rook
Addis Rook
Posts: 124

1/14/2018
A tomb colonist marvels at the sprig of fragrant rosemary in their hands, like a miracle plucked from beyond the false stars above just seconds ago, and a promise of miracles still to come. They look up from the impossible herb to the woman sitting before them, as though begging for the answer to an unspoken question.

She produces from her green cloak a small bottle wrapped in twine, and gives it to them, with a whisper.

"We found them. All of them. They called to us, and now they call to you. They're home."

The tomb colonist takes the bottle into their hands, and gazes at it through tear-stained bandages. The woman smiles with genuine warmth as they tightly clasp her hands and thank her, then make their way out of the shop quickly. She sighs contentedly, and orders a glass of chanterelle Chartreuse at the table.
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Reinol von Lorica
Reinol von Lorica
Posts: 93

1/18/2018
“I have not seen the library. But I know someone who has. They were rather secretive in sharing the information but I have some information regardless. Not much but something I suppose.” Eleison admits. His...contact so to speak wasn’t the msor co operative sort. Nor was he the msor polite. If he’d he’d known any better, he’d probably say it was just to tease.

“The library’s contents vary. Perhaps they are the unfinished works of artists and scholars. Maybe material that would’ve been regarded as a crime by the Decency. Or if we’re being plain, knowledge simply not meant to be shared. A curious thought eh?” He says with a smile. “I do however, expect something about the Fallen Cities. Well, one really in particular.”

Few speak of that city. Those that do may incur the wrath of the Masters.

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Reinol%20von%20Lorica
Reinol von Lorica. The Sentimental Writer. He still dreams of clear skies and sun kissed forests.

Pull yourselves together!
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Senforza
Senforza
Posts: 10

1/18/2018
A table down, bloodshot eyes quirk upward at the mention of fallen cities.

"Just another bottle of the 1882, if you please," she murmurs, sufficiently distracted. The raven by her elbow squawks, reproachful, as the woman's scarf prods questioningly at its wings before acquiescing in a smattering of dusty feathers.

As the woman absentmindedly waves the ensuing cloud away and shushes the discontent whispering of her overcoat, she finds her attention wandering again towards the back door. Her lips quirk upward ruefully. Just when one finally sets it out of mind. Damnably loud strangers. Her eyes flicker over them quickly; she keeps her vision sweeping back and forth over her novel as she thinks. The lady...a singer? Bohemian, perhaps. Forthright--transparently so--so either naively optimistic or a new arrival. And the man...a quill? Who uses a quill, in this day and age?!


She hitches her book upward so it covers her face, ears picking out the two new voices from the usual murmur of the pub. They may be of interest yet.
edited by Senforza on 1/18/2018

--
Main:
Senforza. Curious to a fault. Tentatively moral. Reformed, mostly.

Secondary:
Chels. Tout sauf la sixième.
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Dione of Argos
Dione of Argos
Posts: 19

1/19/2018
“Isn’t it interesting though, that few speaks about those particular cities and yet everyone has something to say about that matter? However, wouldn’t it be worth gaining access to that room to see if indeed something of interest can be found there?”

Dione leans back in her chair, smiling at the table behind her, she turns her head just far enough to be sure she is heard and noticed by the book with huge ears.

”The more would be willing to help gain access, the more capable and knowledgeable help one could get, the merrier it would be, no? Just sitting here and sipping drinks, isn’t that far too boring for a curious and inquisitive mind? I am sure, there are more interesting ways to spend an evening, than with a novel one can read at any other evening as well. Why come to such a wondrous place if not for some game and mischief and some – challenge?”

Dione turns her attention back to Eleison and Sebastian, toasting to the two men, she finishes her drink in one go, her hand jerks but she stops herself before she throws her glass behind her back – for good luck like the Greek would do, but the English will surely not approve, not even in this place when things are being thrown around and also the devil might not understand this custom. Better not risk it.

She puts down the glass on the table and leans closer to the men.

”So gentlemen, are you curious enough to have a look?”

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Dione%20of%20Argos
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Senforza
Senforza
Posts: 10

1/20/2018
"Subtle," she mumbles conversationally to the sock that coils around her wrist; it wheezes back what nearly might be a laugh. She lowers her book briefly to take a sniff of her glass before her eyebrows narrow imperceptibly. Hm. And this is why you always carry the '44.


Mind made up, the lady carefully takes a look at her page number before tucking it under her shoulder. She reaches a hand into her overcoat as she stands, taking a swig from her silver flask as she makes her way to the table. "There are more interesting ways, perhaps, and also infinitely more foolish." Her tone is carefully mild as she pulls out a free chair. "I hope you don't mind...?"

--
Main:
Senforza. Curious to a fault. Tentatively moral. Reformed, mostly.

Secondary:
Chels. Tout sauf la sixième.
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Reinol von Lorica
Reinol von Lorica
Posts: 93

1/20/2018
Crimson eyes swept between the two. Eleison leaned back as he pondered on the recent developments. Sebastien paid no heed to what was happening. It was not his business to make an opinion. Eleison's will was his will. And it was so that Richard Eleison was to act now.

"Not at all." He waved away at the newcomer. "Sit down and drink. Feel free to speak of your will." Having said his part, he fixed his attention to Dione. "Such words from someone such as yourself. Presumptuous. Far from foolish though. But very curious indeed. And down here, curiosity can easily spell one's doom. On the other hand, it can spell out one's fortune."

He stares at her, eyes brimming with an unknown light. "Tell me, how do you plan on gaining access. I have my plans. Do you?" It was said in a bored drawl, yet it failed to betray his fascination. Never has he encountered someone like her. Such a fine specimen must be given the required attention.

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Reinol%20von%20Lorica
Reinol von Lorica. The Sentimental Writer. He still dreams of clear skies and sun kissed forests.

Pull yourselves together!
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Senforza
Senforza
Posts: 10

1/20/2018
The lady sits back, content to drink and observe the two strangers interact. She allows a bare hint of a smirk to cross her lips, eyebrow tilting, as the strange man directly contradicts her. As I thought, then. She's a newcomer. He gives her too much credit, though; only a fool makes promises her hand can't keep, especially where better people have tried and failed. It's too soon to pay her such high-handed compliments, unless there's some ulterior motive.


"I'm sorry to interrupt, but would you mind introducing yourselves to me? I'm afraid I'm rather late to this discussion."
edited by Senforza on 1/20/2018

--
Main:
Senforza. Curious to a fault. Tentatively moral. Reformed, mostly.

Secondary:
Chels. Tout sauf la sixième.
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Dione of Argos
Dione of Argos
Posts: 19

1/20/2018
Eyes, blue like the surface sea on a calm day, watch the newcomer sit down as Eleison grand’s her access to his table. Dione’s attention is drawn to the interesting and unusually self-conscious pieces of clothing. She watches with interest how they behave while their wearer sits down.

“Pardon my subtlety, we Greeks are well known for our reserved and restraint nature, my name is Dione of Argos, I have arrived only recently and am a singer and you are…?” She grins at the woman, before paying attention to Eleison’s words again.

When she turns towards the man she hesitates for just a second. She can feel how the air pressure changes, the wind has turned and is blowing from the zee. When her gaze meets Eleison’s her eyes have changed to a green-blue shade.

“Do you know how to make twigs of Japanese quince bloom in the middle of winter? You cut the twig and fray out the end. Then you put the twigs into a vase with hot water. The twigs fall for the ruse and believe it to be spring and bloom.”

She lowers her voice and glance, from out of the veil of black curls, out of the edge of her oblique glance she watches the devil bartender preparing another of the customers orders and whispers, just loud enough for her table to hear:

”What do you suppose would be hot enough for a devil to open up and bloom?”

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Dione%20of%20Argos
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Senforza
Senforza
Posts: 10

1/22/2018
"Professor F. L. Senforza, at your service. May I ask what gave me away, aside from the fact that my darling clothes-colony here is transparent as glass?" She smiled faintly, swatting down the fringed edge of a protesting scarf. "I do hope you have some suggestions of your own. Devils are used to fire and brimstone; I doubt they bloom easily, so to speak."

--
Main:
Senforza. Curious to a fault. Tentatively moral. Reformed, mostly.

Secondary:
Chels. Tout sauf la sixième.
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Reinol von Lorica
Reinol von Lorica
Posts: 93

1/23/2018
"You know, it was it was once the other way around.' Eleison mused out loud, ignoring the original question for just a moment. "Once upon time, it was the Devil's who made things bloom. Though I doubt they're still into that business. Probably are but I never looked into the affairs of the mirror." His eyes glaze over before he focuses once more.

"There are many things a Devil would want. Secrets. Souls. The Once-Princes of Hell. Many things indeed." Crimson eyesnarrowed. "What are you trying to imply?" This could prove to be an...interesting snippet if she proved correct. Out of the corner of his hearing, he idly heard Sebastien introduce both he and himself to the newcomer.
edited by Reinol von Lorica on 1/23/2018

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Reinol%20von%20Lorica
Reinol von Lorica. The Sentimental Writer. He still dreams of clear skies and sun kissed forests.

Pull yourselves together!
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Dione of Argos
Dione of Argos
Posts: 19

1/23/2018
“Delighted to make your acquaintance, Professor.” Dione nods. It is difficult to distinguish whether she is addressing the woman or her charming although quiet opinionated clothes colony. “I have good ears.” Is all the explanation she gives while smiling at the sock around Senforza's wrist.

While Sebastien is introducing himself and his master to the newcomer, Dione listens to what Eleison has to add to their conversation.

“Ah yes, all that busy buzzing that once was their existence, I assure you, they still have their sticky fingers deep down the calyx.”

She leans a bit closer, supporting herself on her elbows, watching the crimson eyes attentively – , so, wouldn’t he like to know what she is implying-no, she won't spill her secrets that easily.

“Quid pro quo, Mr Eleison. I have introduced you to my approach, now if you please, how is yours? What have you plotted to gain entrance? What is your masterplan? And since we are about to discuss that…”
Turning her head towards Professor Senforza.

“One with a curious and studied mind, surely will already have thought up a way to gain entrance to such a scholarly place, no? Tell me Professor, what does your expertise tell you about how to proceed in such an endeavor?”

--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Dione%20of%20Argos
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