Forum Game: The Model of a Modern Fallen Londoner

With apologies to mssrs Gilbert and Sullivan, I submit the following:

I am the very model of a modern Fallen Londoner
With coffee at Caligula’s and leaders in the Thunderer,
I know the ways of Spite that are of best use to the plunderer,
And promenade in modish clothes complete down to my underw’r.

… but why should I have all the fun? Instead, my friends, help a poor librettist out by contributing your own stanzas evocative of the traits that make the Compleat Fallen Londoner (one stanza each, let’s not be greedy). Perhaps together we can contrive at something fit to be played before the Empress herself! Oh, and don’t feel you need to rhyme with &quotLondoner,&quot (&quotBuggered for a Rhyme&quot didn’t rhyme with &quotGeneral,&quot after all), any rhyming quatrain would do!

– Mal
edited by malthaussen on 10/12/2015

I’m very well acquainted, too, with matters of the amber,
I calligraph the sigils, both the human and the stell’r,
I understand the theorems, impossible and common
With many cheerful facts about the way to dupe a lawman.

EDIT: I realized way too late that two of the stanzas used &quotunderstand&quot, this could not stand.
edited by NotaWalrus on 10/12/2015

Although some tongues may wag, I’m rather glad my man is Rubbery.
Some say this is a sin, yet I am pleased that he is blubbery…
My laundry-maid is scandalised by stains that are quite lemony,
But still, I’m awful proud to go against human hegemony!

[A gentleman in the audience gasps and faints as the poet winks, lifts the hem of her dress off the ground and descends the stage with a flourish.

Scandal is increasing…]
edited by Sestina Valdis on 10/12/2015

I am the very model of a modern fallen Londoner
Midnighter I am different, far from the standard commoner
I see behind the veil, through enigmas secrets or mystery
My foes lay in the true death, the spilled blood is merely history

Fantastic idea!

I’ve travelled 'cross the Unterzee, exploring places near and far,
Polythreme and Hunter’s Keep and [whispers] that place where all the devils are,
I’ve encountered Plated Seals and many other creatures singular,
But there’s no sight quite as welcome as the towering spires of the Bazaar!
edited by Lady Eris on 10/13/2015

Wolfstack is the place if you want a fight
Or if you are a thief you might enjoy Spite
If you’re a clever fellow consider the university
But Veilgarden is, personally, the perfect place for me

I am the model of a university’s delight,
I study and study all through out what I presume is the night!
I study the 'Neath and the beasts of the zea
For this is my passion, can’t you see?
I love my work,
it is simply sublime,
I wouldn’t trade it in for any a dime.

I am the model of those who entice
A hidden member of the Anti-Christ
My tongue twist the words until mind is at loss
I swear to you by the Crook of my Cross
From being a victim sprung up my incitement
Exploited by those who promised Enlightenment

Xilann Xi
edited by Xilann Xi on 10/15/2015

I am the sort who boink everything
Yet nothing I boink gave me a ring
Boink an artist and got a beggar
And the model is another stalker
Boink a rubber and got no amber
And the burglar is full of blubber[i]

edited by Estelle Knoht on 10/15/2015

Learning of Correspondence is the thing that I aspire most
painfully aware that this can have a truly dire cost
still I am excited when new sigils at the spire show
precisely writing down them makes my hair catch fire though

waves to her husband before terrifying the front row with a dripping bone harpoon

When placid Londoners are settled safely in their beds at night
I sharpen up my knives for monster hunting is my preferred fight
It’s quite impossible for me to attend that boring ball, you see
I might need to battle a rampaging demon goat… or three!


There is something called the Author’s plight.
But it can also be quite a delight.
Having drugs and honey however,
costs a lot of money wherever.

I travel in the circles of the devilish soul-sunderer
And Madam S’s Fate-fortelling makes me want to run to her
When the RNG’s capricious ways make me feel a blunderer.
I am the Very Model of a Modern Fallen Londoner.
edited by Michile on 10/30/2015

I am a stout adventurer with degrees professorial.
Hunt-ed by devils in ruins, I wrote a fat tutorial.
It covers archaeology and riddles allegorical
I found in the Third City in a temple most historical.

I sold a treatise on the cult that’s taking o’er the Admiralty
Up to a mitre’d agent in a Pontific Academy.
He said they’d send an übergoat of Echoes to our Cavity.
’Til then I’ll solider on in the basement for adjunct faculty.
edited by Ginneon Thursday on 10/31/2015

I’ve put the boot to spider councils and had adventures nautical.
I’ve burgled the Brass Embassy and drafted poems mycological.
For court and Empress I’ve penned several operas most transcendent.
I only wish my semiotic studies left my hair less incandescent!

I am the very model of a modern Neath confessional,
I’ll keep your scandal quiet with the skill of a professional.
So tell me what you’ve done, and why you’ve done it; please do tell me more.
And I will keep your secret safe… 'til autumn 1894.
edited by Bradford on 10/31/2015
edited by Bradford on 10/31/2015

I am the very model of a modern Fallen Londoner.
I’ve gathered more accouterments than any pirate plunderer.
The rarest of the lot adorn my mantelpiece, so I can gloat.
I hope some day I might devise a way to catch a heptagoat.

I collect one of every thing that might exist down here below.
I’ve many different residences just to hold the overflow.
On holidays I rush to gather oddities ‘fore it’s too late.
As Mr. Pages says, I am hoardacious and obsessivate.

I am uniquely covetous of cider Hesperidean.
I’d sell my aunt to devils if it meant I’d get a sip again.
For a whole firkin I’d ignore all pretense of morality.
For what’s the use of ethics when the price is immortality?

I’ve peddled my velocipede from Ladybones down to the docks.
I know where work the fine young lasses wearing Mr. Wines’s socks.
I’ve strolled the streets of Veilgarden, sampling each honey den
And found the Cave of Nadir, though I really can’t remember when.

I’ve sipped my share of coffee at Caligula’s and played some chess;
Dealt with a nest of LB rats, evicted under some duress.
Though spirifrage as a vocation is a job I can’t condone
I’d offer up a moustached artist so he might leave me alone!

I’ve written prose and poetry; performed before the royal court,
And at the University, found cheating students to extort.
But when I feel musical, I put my poet’s pen aside
And whistle ‘round Mahogany inviting mustelid genocide.

Of correspondence symbols, I know quite enough to stop at six
I’ve gathered marks of credit sold to me by the Numismatrix
With writers fidgeting and boxes full of intrigue to the brim
I’ve piled up more echoes than an urchin with a sack of glim.

I’ve zailed 'cross the Unterzee, as far away as Polythreme
I think my clothing groped me, though that might have been a honey dream.
And why, you ask, have I been caught in conversations with a well?
Good question! Not a wise one, but it seems that only time will tell.

I’d like to take a moment to go OOC, if you’ll permit.
And praise the FL authors for their style and their nimble wit.
So grab a glass and pour some wine and join my toast if you concur;
I am the very model of a modern Fallen Londoner.

I am the very model of a modern Fallen Londoner;

It seems the earth has less to give above her than from under her
I’ve information masochistic, awesome and horrific,
Byzantine equations and presbyterate arithmitic
My knowledge of the Masters is formidably specific
My Correspondence studies earn me shame and honorifics
In short, in all the matters that a scholar can uncover,
I am the very model of a modern Fallen Londoner.

[quote=vitamancy]I am the very model of a modern Fallen Londoner.
I’ve gathered more accouterments than any pirate plunderer.
The rarest of the lot adorn my mantelpiece, so I can gloat.
I hope some day I might devise a way to catch a heptagoat.[/quote]
Bravo! Bravo!