Forum Game: Mornington Crescent

A few paces away from the unfolding excitement, a hushed conversation between two people in Hallowmas masks was taking place.

&quot…the trick is to never make the source of your information obvious. Look, there’s a perfect example.&quot The taller figure pointed at the arguing players.

His companion tilted their head slightly. &quotMornington…? How does that silliness figure in?&quot

&quotPay attention to the moves, and you’ll figure out quickly who among the players has a collection of pre-Fall street signs and maps.&quot He smiled. &quotIf that collection gets raided by gentlemen in blue after an anonymous tip-off… well, nine times out of ten, they’ll blame some friend or ally who must have been indiscreet. And since collectors of contraband tend to rotate in less than sunny circles, the resulting fallout will expose connections that you would never find about otherwise.&quot

&quotI see,&quot replied the other figure in noncommital tone.

&quotProve it. Based on what you’ve seen so far, which of them is more likely to have old London signs hanging over the mantlepiece?&quot

The figure pointed a gloved figure: &quotHer. Definitely.&quot

&quotAnd you know that because…&quot

A smile. &quotBecause I’ve seen it and I happen to be in an indiscreet mood.&quot

The man nodded respectfully. &quotLesson learned, indeed. Now, before we move on, let’s spread some fallout…&quot

He walked over to the table, one hand in the pocket of his coat:

&quot[color=#ff0000]Forest of Traitors[/color].&quot He withdrew the hand and placed a dozen devilbone dice on the table. &quotYou’re going to need these. Welcome to the Republic.&quot
edited by Passionario on 11/7/2016

quote=Infinity Simulacrum The gimmicks and addenda just felt a bit too farstretched to all be used in the same game./quote I thought that was kind of the point of the game…

By Storm, that has turned the game upon its head. Republic Rules - an oxymoron of sorts - are a rare sight these days. He thought they’d been banned, due to the Uncertainty Principle catapulting a number of players out of existence. Still, the game continues.

The Scorched Sailor reaches for the dice, rattling them around in his palm. When he casts them, four of the dozen burst into flames and disappear completely. The remaining land in an odd shape, many of their faces scorched. The Sailor makes a great show of studying their arrangement as if they are of great import, and surreptitiously checks his palm. Burnt into the skin are two words.

“Obloquy Fountain.”

Swoosh! Fast as a winning weasel, the dices are gobbled up by a dining weasel!

The weasel, green as Salt and sleek as bolt, leaps at the man like a guided missile!

All that remains are [color=663300]excrement[/color], spelling out the word &quot[color=666600]Parliament[/color]&quot!

(I suck at rhyming and English, and yes the weasel is on Table 1 as a guest)

If the dice are gone, the rules are changed, but one last thing remains. The figure in red, dragon-masked, draws near the table, casts a look around, and murmurs, “Eternal Love.”

What this does to the last fanfare of an Iron Republic rule hardly bears thinking on, but someone will know.

A figured pointed. At her?

[i]Too many voices in shadows. Too many hidden clues deciphered. A sign?

Calm, calm. Play it safe. You’ve been playing all your life. For your life. [/i]

&quotMutton Island.&quot

Do I dare add it? No, leave it be. I do not want to Find IT.
edited by Parelle on 11/7/2016

[quote=phryne]quote=Infinity Simulacrum The gimmicks and addenda just felt a bit too farstretched to all be used in the same game./quote I thought that was kind of the point of the game…
[/quote]
(OOC) The difference being that I’m Sorry, I Haven’t Got a Clue versions of Mornington Crescent were short and sweet to keep the humour from becoming repetitive and to keep the willing suspension of disbelief intact.

Devilbone die? Was this chap for real?
&quotBlasphemy! No one uses that conduct in polite circles, do you want to drive us mad?&quot
He shoves his chair back and abruptly stands up.
&quotI’ll have none of that, figure it out for yourselves!&quot

The dice rematerialized in Bruno’s hand. Might as well roll them.
They rolled into more dice than had ever appeared, spelling out a warning.
“I suppose that’s my cue to leave.”
Bruno got up and limped away. He wasn’t even sure when he had pulled that muscle.

Out of his pocket, the lieutenant pulled a devilbone dice he’d been fiddling with since the start of the game.
&quotLet’s see, the dicer has left, eternal love has been declared, and so, if the dice will it, I can probably make it to Mornington Crescent&quot
He grasps the dice firmly, shaking them and whispering in some half-forgotten tongue. He releases the dice, and, once the fires have been put out and one of the dice coaxed to earth with a broom, two words are seared into the table
Mornington Crescent
&quotDoes anyone know if that’s still valid? I’ve been at Zee, so I missed the last alteration of the Republic rules.&quot he asks, with clear hesitation and a hint of terror. He knew the punishment for breaking such rules, and though his guesthouse at the Royal Bethlehem was nice, he didn’t plan to be confined there, away from polite society, locked in with the rest of the nightmare-addled victims of the Neath’s horrors.
&quotAlso, has anyone seen where my dog ran off to?&quot he followed, for indeed the dog that had been at his feet the whole game had bolted after the table caught fire.

Flesh-Stick bursts out from under the table. “BINGO!” he screams triumphantly, before sweeping the board off the table and pocketing what he believes to be the winnings (mostly chicken bones and a few napkin holders).

“HOORAY!” he shouts. “I NEVER WIN PARTY GAMES THIS IS LIKE THE FIRST TIME EVER! DRINKS ARE ON ME!”

After buying a round for the entire table, he sits down cheerfully with all his new friends.

“THAT WAS FUN! DO YOU GUYS WANNA PLAY FREEZE TAG NEXT?”

Ms. Davidson stands and inspects her suit for any collateral damage. Satisfied she retrieves a pair of gloves from the inside of the blazer.

&quotGood game I suppose. Certainly not what I’m accustomed to but it’s hardly unexpected given that this party was hosted by the Modiste. I bid the rest of you a good, and hopefully less messy, evening.&quot

She departs to find the hostess.
edited by Blaine Davidson on 11/7/2016

The ape licks some cream off his fingers and scans the table hopefully for more snacks. Seeing none, he rises from his chair and bows to the celebrants. “A good Game, gentlecreatures,” he says, “you certainly taught me a lot.” He ambles off to the head table to see if any of the Hallowmas cake is left.

– Mal

&quotThe High Wilderness&quot, &quot this game will not end, not soon at least, we are playing under the rules of the Republic, it doesn’t end if someone says so&quot(was it ever here? Playing the game with you? Perhaps you can blame the irrigo).

“I don’t know. Is there a version of Mornington Crescent that invovles freeze tag?” There is a tension beneath the levity - The Iron Republic rules has left them more on edge then they expected.

&quotThen we shall play freeze tag with streets! No, too much law right now, we must bring more liberty to the laws of the neath for this,&quot Brings out an unclear device &quotHere! What? You thought it was completely useless?’ after a short laugh it calls it’s tigress to play along &quotNow, who will begin?&quot.
edited by The Master on 11/7/2016

Flesh-Stick sips his drink, a gaudy thing with two lit sparklers in it. “QUIT BEING A SORE LOSER.”

“Which one of us sore losers was that meant for? And also, what does that device do exactly?”

Things are getting interesting again. Bruno limps back to the table.

“THE GUY WHO WANTS TO KEEP PLAYING EVEN THOUGH I TOTALLY WON FAIR AND SQUARE!” Flesh-Stick says, downing the last of his drink. “THE REST OF YOU ARE GOOD SPORTS.”

He removes the fruitcake from his head and breaks it in half over his knee, before handing half to Dirae Erinyes.

“ANYWAY, I MAY BE THE CHAMPION, BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU GUYS CAN’T PLAY FOR SECOND PLACE.” He sets the gameboard back on the table. “CANDYLAND RULES APPLY. IF YOU DRAW THE PLUM GUY, YOU HAFTA GO BACK TO THE BOTTOM OF THE BOARD. NO TAKEBACKS.”

Dirae Erinyes munches on the fruit cake, ignoring any potential cliches about it being hard as a rock.
“In that case, my starting move will be the statue on Nestle Square.”