Mutton Island Meetings: Revelry and Melodies

Fallen London
21

Victoria’s stares at Persephone with suspicion, and places her coffee down next to her. She rises to her feet without her eyes ever leaving Persephone’s gaze.

&quotHow do you know about my involvement in those circles then?&quot Victoria firmly, but quietly demands Persephone. &quotYou both clearly have no sympathies towards our cause.&quot

Then Victoria’s suspicion fades and realization sets in. Victoria puts the pieces together: the description, the knowledge that they shouldn’t have, and the coffee. This man was that fellow known as the Antioch. Oh, yes she had heard about him, and his involvement in the underworld. Not a particularly powerful individual compared to the Widow, but Victoria had heard his name whispered a few times here in there.

&quotSo that is what this fuss 'as been all about then,&quot Victoria says to no one in particular.

Victoria looks back at Persephone with a smile. Victoria places one of her hands in her pocket and the other on Persephone’s shoulder.

&quotSo 'es the one known as the Antioch,&quot she whispers with nod towards Persephone’s father, &quotand he’s your father I take it.&quot

Victoria removes her hand from Persephone’s shoulder.
edited by Lord Gazter on 8/30/2017

22

The smoldering ember in Victoria’s eye sparks, and finds kindling. A fire suddenly blazes into existence. It spread and spreads until it consumes all. Her face reddens, and her hand clenches into a fist.

&quotOh the others may not have a quarrel with you two,&quot Victoria shouts, &quotbut I sure as b___dy h__l do.&quot

Victoria’s movement is sudden. Victoria’s fist moves up and slams into Persephone’s stomach knocking the wind out of her.
edited by Lord Gazter on 8/31/2017

23

Victoria does not hear Persephone’s word. There is a only red in Victoria’s eyes. The next few moments are a blur. Victoria lunges at Persephone. A gunshot rings in Victoria’s ears. Whether she was hit or not did not matter at the moment as Victoria’s heart pumped furiously beneath her chest. Victoria knocks Persephone down, and the gun goes skittering across the cobbled ground. Victoria pins Persephone down on the ground, and brings her fist down once, and twice, again and again.
edited by Lord Gazter on 8/31/2017

24

One last sound of knuckle against flesh is heard, and the haze begins to clear. Victoria looks at the battered and bruised Persephone in front of her. Victoria’s breaths are heavy. She hears the shouts of the Antioch and Jimmy, and turns to face them. As they approach the crowd parts to let them approach. Victoria turns to look at the Antioch with her eyes still filled with flame. She stares unflinchingly into the Antioch’s eyes challenging him with her gaze. A beat. And Another. And Another. Victoria gets up from off of Persephone, and stands up her gaze still transfixed on the Antioch. She spits on the ground defiantly, and shoves her way though the surrounding crowd her boots audibly pound on the cobblestone road, as she leaves.

25

Addis sits at a table nearby once he has been served, sighing out heavily as he considers the idea of a rubbery man running for mayor. London is just not ready for that kind of radical thinking, or those kinds of speeches. Perhaps in 20 years or so. Maybe. These people are strange.

He tucks the bread and cheese into his bag, and sits at an empty table with the coffee and shortcake, briefly observing Persephone speak with the other young lady who seemed to rouse the suspicion of the Antioch. A fight inevitably breaks out, to which he responds by simply raising an eyebrow and sipping his coffee unconcerned. Eventually he loses interest as people crowd around the girls and block his view.

He takes out a book out from his coat pocket, and turns to a page bookmarked by a ribbon decorated with brass buttons. He begins to casually skim over names, and descriptions. Bored red eyes glance at the man behind the counter waving a knife around. The Antioch… The Antioch…

Oh. There is an entry under this alias. Brief, one of the older ones in this compendium, but detailed enough to give Addis an interesting little read. A somewhat frightening man, from the sound of it. Not someone to openly cross. Addis makes a small signal with his hand to wait for the right moment.

A few minutes later, after the girls and Antioch leave, a man a few tables over from Addis collapses to the floor, clutching the small table in front of him. He sends porcelain crashing to the ground in a tremendous noise that causes everyone to turn to see what’s going on. He convulses violently and gurgles, as though trying to scream through the red foam and regurgitated coffee that comes flowing out of his mouth and onto the ground. The convulsions slow into trembles. A small, desperate wheeze through the foam signals his final breath as he drowns in his own vomit, and his bloodshot eyes glaze over with true death.

Addis finishes his cake, and casually approaches the crowd of terrified bystanders to get a good look at the man’s face, before he is carried off in a hurry by the festival security to prevent further panic. He smiles and crosses out a name in his Intriguer’s Compendium with red ink. As he leaves to check on the status of the other targets, he takes his second serving with him, plate and all. He takes the strawberry from atop the shortcake and tosses it into the air, where it seemingly disappears into the sky. A small thank-you for a job well done.
edited by Addis Rook on 9/2/2017

26

“So, that was fruitless,” Evensong complained, as she laid out a cornucopia of candles collected from local village shops, from beachcombing, and from drunk visitors.
“Maybe it’s hanging out in the cave system – God Almighty, you could hide the whole island and half in those tunnels.” Dirae Erinyes carefully laid out their dishes of tentacle-filled shellfish, scaled cephalopods, and toothy snails. Once they finished laying out their feast, a casual (and most likely chased by a drunk villager) would not see the candles, and assumed both of them were just feasting on the seafood. Not that there many of those – too far from the impromptu bonfires and the sacred well to be considered a good spot.
“I would prefer spend the evening listening to the drownies. I think they have some new songs this year.” Harmonious crunching and chewing. &quotYou know, I would’ve thought fish oil candles a terrible idea.&quot
edited by Shadowcthuhlu on 9/14/2017

27

An empty platter and a rapidly draining bottle of wine lie in front of Lord Gazter. He finishes glass of wine in his hand, and begins pouring another. His companion leans in to ask Lord Gazter something that only the two can hear. Lord Gazter smiles and gives his assent. Lord Gazter’s companion makes his way out of the relative quiet and calm, and into merrymaking crowds outside. Lord Gazter places the glass against his lips, and takes a sip of his wine. He begins to take in the take in the flavour, when his eyes fall upon a familiar figure over at another table.

“Greetings Dirae!” Lord Gazter calls out to Dirae with a grin on his face. What a fortuitous turn of events it is to meet you here on Mutton Island, dear friend.” he says with an exaggerated movement of his hands. “I have plenty of wine to drink, but alas I can only drink so much. Why don’t you and your lovely wife come, and join me.” Lord Gazter smiles invitingly, and takes another sip from his glass.

28

With a shared nod, Evensong and Dirae Erinyes performed an elaborately choreographed routine, moving the dishes without disturbing a single scale or allowing a wayward glance at all the candles. Lord Gazter finds himself surrounded by a traditional Mutton Island feast.
“Lord Gazter, I have to admit I was a bit surprised to find you here. I thought it would be too provincial for your tastes,” Dirae Erinyes admits.
“I’m not.” Evensong can’t stop herself from chiding her spouse. “The only person too urbane for this festival is our mayor, but maybe that’s because he’s not a proper Londoner. . .”
“Anyway, what do you think of all this?” Dirae Erinyes asks as a fillet disappears behind their mask.

29

“The festival this year has been marvelous,” Lord Gazter says as he pours wine into the two of the three unused glasses in front of him. “It is always such a delight to get away from the burden and dreariness of the mundane for a while and take in sights and sounds of Mutton Island’s festivities.” Lord Gazter gracefully places a glass in front of each of his guests. “Especially after the chaos and mayhem of this year’s mayoral election.” Lord Gazter tuts in distaste. “Of course one’s enjoyment of festivities is always made better, when in the company of friends and comrades,” he adds with a wink before taking another sip of wine.

30

Dirae Erinyes accepts the wine with a hearty quaff. Evensong sniffs her wine glass and gives a carefully sip. She gives a small smile to indicate that this no offense meant, but one can’t be too careful. “Here’s to good drinks and good friends,” Evensong proposes. “And to parties less raucous than an electoral mob,” Dirae Erinyes adds. After a shared gulp, Dirae Erinyes gives a chuckle. “So, are you really here just to fish, or do you have something else up your sleeve.”

31

“The festivities are enough to bring me here. The excellent hospitality, and the exquisite food, and wine, and amicable company of course might have in part been behind my decision to come here.” Lord Gazter swirls the last of the wine in his glass before emptying it. “I also can also joyfully say that I am not here for business.” Lord Gazter ponders over the idea. “Although I do suppose that it would not be impossible to set up a Mahogany Hall performance here. Of course it would be difficult to convince those in question to perform away from Mahogany Hall, and of course I would be required to write another piece of theatrical work to accompany such an peculiar event.”

32

“Maybe you won’t have to write that much – have you heard of the commedia dell’arte? I believe I saw a troupe of them dancing around the well earlier. With that, you just need a novel premise fitting with the season and they can do the rest. Though if we could fit a few more performers in there. . .have you seen the Princesses around?” Dirae Erinyes muses as Evensong watches a strolling couple in the distance.

33

“A brilliant idea Dirae! With that plan we might be able to make a spectacular event that will dazzle and enthrall the people London.” Lord Gazter takes another sip from his wine and sighs contently. “What shall this play be about Dirae? It is only fair to let the one, who came up with this extraordinary plan to have a say in this matter.” Lord Gazter looks up from his glass, and at the strolling couple as they stop a short distance away.

34

“Well, a Commedia Dell’arte must always be a comedy – at least the very best are. Hm, my first thought it a romance of sorts – a lover lost at sea returns as a drownie, only to discover their love is being courted by an utter beastly bore. But one that is wearing down the resistance of the other half of the star-struck duo. A scheme to upstage this rival and win back their love. A scheme that involves a comedic duo of smugglers, pirates, and occasional fisherman to help out our poor drownie. How is that for a start?” Dirae Erinyes starts to arrange to fishbones to stand in for the characters as they explain.

35

Lord Gazter begins to turn his head to answer, but notices the couple embrace one another. He notices the words of affection whispered to one another, although he does not hear them. It reminded him of another moment, where flowery words were whispered between two. Lord Gazter stares transfixed at that moment since past until his mind returns to his companion whose question still remained unanswered.

“Yes, of course that sounds like the perfect story to give the crowd,” Lord Gazter answers, although something in his demeanor had changed. “I’m sure that they will be dazzled and overjoyed by the end of the performance as the drownie, and lover are reunited,” he finishes hastily. Lord Gazter places his glass on the table without another sip taken.
edited by Lord Gazter on 9/14/2017

36

“Lord Gazter, did a romance end badly. Don’t tell me you tried to chase Englantine down their damned path?” Dirae Erinye’s voice softens. “Or was it someone else.”
“We are no strangers to romantic heartbreak. Confession does sometimes.” Evensong grungle admits, knowing that she is showing an unwise weakness.”
“Or do you just want to drink?” Dirae Erinyes asks. “I once spend a whole year without being sober because of heartbreak.”

37

At the mention of that name Lord Gazter’s mind races with too many thoughts and questions to think properly. He begins to hastily open his mouth to ask one of them, when he begins to think better of the idea. He closes his mouth and takes hearty drink of his wine. Lord Gazter spends the next few moments attempting to regain his lost composure, but is only partial successful in that endeavour. His demeanor has not changed.

“Dirae… have you heard anything about Eglantine recently?” Lord Gazter asks desperately.

38

“Citizen Fox is current working in the bazaar’s employ, in the same capacity as the one known as Passionario. She has followed her mentor well. I don’t often handle her paperwork, but occasional spots of trouble summon us to the sides of our fellow clerks.” Evensong pauses, her voice no longer masking the cracking of bone in Dirae Erinyes fist.
“Much like Passionario, I think her heart only has room for one, and that person is not living. Unlike Passionario, they are considered a heartbreaker in the more. . .traditional sense. I’m am sorry that they were careless of your heart, but I would not expect an apology from them. It would be healthy for you to move on – her path is not one you should follow recklessly.”

39

“Of course… of course you are right, dear friends,” Lord Gazter says with a touch of melancholy. “A mere lapse in my better judgement. I’m sure that these silly thoughts will simply fade in time, and most certainly I will take your excellent advice, and not continue to worry about this absurd matter of pursuing them any farther,” he reassures Dirae and Eversong with weakened albeit convincing smile, although he does not truly stop thinking about these ideas. “Let us talk about some other matter,” he insists, “something less distressing.” Lord Gazter drains some more of his wine, but even that does not seem to keep at bay those uncontrollable, irresistible desires of the heart.

40

Dirae Erinyes gives an understanding smile – their heart is more willful then their wife’s. “It’s been a while since I was in Mahoney hall proper – they refused to stage my Rubbery Man play. How was that old place been getting on without me?”