Frantically dodging the broken chandelier Sajach turns to Greycoin and says "My dear, the civilized parties are oh so dull. This is an adventure." He then grabs his Blemmigan Secretary and hurls it at table four.[li]
edited by Sajach on 11/1/2016
Pillbox quietly takes a number of small ferrets from her pocket and gently puts them on the floor. She stamps her foot, hard, and the ferrets flee in all directions. A woman at a table nearest the fire screams. A gentleman starts yelling and tugging at his pants.
“I quite agree with our dear Sajach. Civilized parties are for people too delicate to endure passion.”
A red-faced maître d’ glides by with a blemmigan under his arm, a bucket of plaster in hand, and a squirming cage of chirping ferrets. Ah - on closer examination he’s red-faced from some beets he caught in the eye.
“B____y Hallowmas,” he grumbles as he attempts to suppress a ferret jail break.
Pillbox collects the cage with a delighted shriek common to all society ladies.
"My darling ferrets! Oh, I was so worried! They get excited so easily, you see, that I knew I oughtn’t bring them with me, but they just seemed so depressed and listless at home."
She gives the man a small peck on the cheek, then begins to coo over the ferrets. They preen, having enjoyed their bad job well done.
edited by pillbox on 11/1/2016
The Harried Maître D’ has the gleaming smile of one who is utterly unamused. “I’ll be delighted to hold onto them for you for the remainder of the evening. No. Really,” he says through his smiling gritted teeth. “I insist.”
Seajack sheepishly takes his secretary back from the maitre d’. "Sorry sir, I’ll keep it on a tighter leash so it doesn’t get away."
Once he has left he turns to the blemmigan and says "You did very good out there. I noticed you wrote some entirely rude phrases onto the bandages enveloping the drunkard Tomb-Colonists legs. That was a work of genius my friend. I can’t wait to see how long it takes for him to notice."[li]
edited by Sajach on 11/1/2016
[quote=pillbox]Greeting to my associates! Please, please, pull up a seat. Help yourself to some of the…"wine".
Tell me, do you have any ongoing ventures with which you might want some aid?[/quote]
The woman in green turns to Pillbox. "I Seek the Name," she replied. "I will be in need of…many things. Including Notability, before I cast such fancies away from me forever."
The lady sighs
"I suppose they’ve had enough excitement for the night. They’ll need feeding in an hour - they only eat sweet breads, anything else upsets their digestion terribly."
One ferret gnaws happily on a piece of tomb colonist. Another looks hungrily at the mattress d’s neck.
Satisfied with the arrangement, Pillbox turns to the woman in green.
"Poor dear. I think I sought it too, once, but I forgot ever so much. Anything you need, dear, anything you need."
edited by pillbox on 11/1/2016
[li]Greycoin laughs at the ferrets and the bandage graffiti.
-From table 4, kind regards.
The Mirthless Colonist proceeds to drink some of his personal absinthe calmly, but when he spots the folk at table eleven laughing cheerily at a piece of his flesh being set upon by one of the b____y ferrets, he decides to get his Lurcher inside. When he returns from his brief absence, the room seems to have settled a bit more. Not for long, Lupaazr (don’t ask how that’s pronounced, not even the Mirthless Colonist knows), his loyal Perspicacious Lurcher, sits patiently at his side, until he releases her collar with a satisfying ‘clack’. The hound is off in a moment.
Soon, brutally executed ferrets and parts of ferrets are found spread throughout the room.
"Can’t have vermin infesting this place, can we now?"
edited by Infinity Simulacrum on 11/1/2016
Sajach leaps onto the table shouting angrily at The Mirthless Colonist and Lupaazr "Eh what you doing that for! We was just having some fun!" Briefly dropping the more formal and posh way of speaking he had used for the rest of the night. Realizing his mistake he shamefacedly steps down from the table apologizing in his standard upperclass accent.[li]
edited by Sajach on 11/1/2016
The Harried Maître D’ gathers up ferrets and matching ferret limbs off the floor with the cool-headed efficiency of a Naval Captain’s inspection, then disappears into the back of the restaurant. He reemerges a few short minutes later with a cage emitting the groggy falsetto moans of recently deceased mustelids. You peer inside and spy bandaged ferrets - their limbs expertly stitched and reattached. "Your Tomb-Ferrets, Ms. Pillbox."
“Oh, thank you sir!”
When the mattress d’ leaves again she turns to address the table.
“Excuse me for a moment.”
She then mixes some pepper and water on her napkin, and rubs at her eyes, before standing and beginning to circulate.
The Mirthless Colonist laughs boisteriously, his Lurcher sits at his knees panting, her fur is matted with sweat and weasel-blood.
"Alright, enough is enough." he warns, "We’ve both had our fun. Tell you what, I’ll get you some new weasels… non-mummified ones, and a good vintage, and then things’re settled, agreed?" the lurcher, a giant hound with large fangs and a savage complexion, gives away nothing.
edited by Infinity Simulacrum on 11/1/2016
The Mirthless Colonist looks on, amused, as Pillbox makes rounds, slandering his good name. In the meanwhile, a well-scrubbed urchin has brought him a bottle of Greyfields 1868, First Sporing. "A magnificent bribe, is it not? Certainly superior to that disgusting gunk in your bottle, it tasted like soot and tears, for your information."
When Pillbox returns, he discreetly informs her that he’s been down here long before London fell, and that it’d take more than a bit of teary-eyed slandering to affect his reputation.
edited by Infinity Simulacrum on 11/1/2016
“I suppose we might pretend at civility for the rest of the evening. If it’s any consolation, your throat seems as intact as ever, so I don’t think you are the tomb colonist my Sugar Beetle was chewing on.”
"Sugar-beetle? Hah! Delightful name!"
The Mirthless Colonist gives a heavy-handed pat on Pillbox’s back, and pushes the bottle of Greyfields into her hands.
"Just delightful! Well, enjoy your evening. I’ll be present at the dance later, hope you’ll share one with me, madam."
Sajach turns to Lady Pillbox and whispers “If you are not interested in that bottle I would be more than happy to take it.”
The Harried Maître D’ returns. “M. Sajach - please refrain from standing on the table. Unless, of course, you want someone here to eat your foot.”
"Well, I certainly want some of that bottle!" said the woman in green. "I expected quiet conversation, not this kind of madhouse! Come, are we reasonable adults or spoiled children? Oh, right, that’s already been answered." She draws herself up in her chair, glowering.
edited by cathyr19355 on 11/5/2016