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The Hourglass Association

Koldun Posts: 133 5/24/2016	Ahhhh, London. A place of mystery, magic, and secrets where he who is most watchful has access to many of it secrets. Yet some strive to use these secrets for nefarious crimes, and while some civilians do tend to end up on the other side of the law, these criminals are more ambitious, hoping to being in an era of crime in London. This is why now, a new society has been formed. One that would be comprised of some of the most brilliant minds that have ever resided in London. These few would be people of all stripes, detectives, inventors, scientists, and even wise sailors. All that was required, was that these people needed to be both watchful and adventurous. This was the Hourglass Association. You see the advertisements everywhere, on the walls, in the papers, even in the bottom of your shoe once. The previous paragraph is inscribed on it, along with an address on Ladybones road. Upon arriving there, you see the Association's founder, Koldun Hitch, sitting back on a recliner, with several other comfortable looking chairs arranged in a ring in the room, yet there are also several other chairs beside him, with only the words "Reserved" on them. Upon seeing you, he nods, and motions to the ring of recliners, and simply says, "Wait."
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Appolonia Posts: 248 5/25/2016	She smiles at Vavakx. "Thanks." "That is curious. I am not sure if this is helpful, but it is Dante, yes, but Paradiso. Not Inferno." "The Terrace for Lust, filled with poets." "The first line is not Italian. The speaker, Arnault, is one of the few in the poem who speak in their own language. Occitan, I think? The second line is Italian, the return of narration after the quote ends." "Arnaut Daniel. One of Dante's favorite poets. A troubadour." "The longer context is something like: 'I am Arnaut, who weeps and sings. I acknowledge the folly of my past, and now, joyfully, anticipate the day that awaits me. I pray, by the power that guides you to the top of the staircase, remember my pain at the time relevant.' Then he dives or hides back in the refining fire." "The last bit is what she said: 'Remember my pain at the time relevant'. And then the line about returning to the purifying fire." "So, people in purgatory. One with hope of ascension. One who warns a traveler - remember the pain I had here (the punishment for lust) while I had to be refined in the fire, before becoming ready for paradise." "Perhaps something to do with the dreams of fire here?" -- http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Appolonia%20VonRavenscroft
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phryne Posts: 1351 5/25/2016	"Aha!" comes a voice from the ceiling. "Thanks for clearing that up, darling!" A candle suddenly flames somewhere up in the darkness. The candle is held by a woman. The woman is reclining in a hammock slung between two rafters. Everybody is looking up at her, quite nonplussed. She smiles, quite dazzlingly. "Wait, I'll come down. You'll cramp your necks looking up like that much longer." In a swift, fluid motion, she unties one end of the hammock and glides down the piece of cloth to land elegantly between the two "reserved" seats in the middle of the room, blowing out her candle and taking a short but elegant bow. She is wearing a practical, completely unremarkable, everyday walking-dress of indifferent colour. On her head, however, perches a ridiculously elaborate hairdo that seems to defy the laws of physics - it probably wouldn't last on the surface, but down here, those laws are less strict... She puts her dazzling smile on her discombobulated audience. "Thank you, Miss von Ravenscroft. Paradiso, eh? Wouldn't've thought of that! Only ever read the Inferno part. Personal interest, you know." "Koldun, my dear. I suggest next time you want to set up a discreet meeting of your not-so-secret society, you choose a venue with a few holes less in the roof." "Vavakx, good to see you still pursuing mysteries every which where. Say, would you mind running after that stupid captain who left earlier? He's gonna get himself killed. Not that I mind, but he's gonna get his crew killed, too, and I hate to waste good zailor stock like that." "Amelia, I'm so surprised to see you here! And sober, too! You're not suddenly turning all austere and respectable on us, are you?" "Dirae, Professor van Allen", she nods respectfully to the two academics. "Honoured to meet you two. I've read all your papers. Even might've understood a few of them." She completely ignores the Silesian detective. "Well, this recording suggests the presence of some sort of religious zealots in the Northern Unterzee; near Codex, more precisely. That's where St Francis-Look-Out is, you know? Most of the time, anyway." "Which is a spot of bother for me. I rather like Codex. Lovely people there, you know? Never interrupt you when you talk to them. And I plan to hold a discreet meeting of my own not-so-secret society there by the end of the year. I really wouldn't want to have half the invitees fall victim to some stupid fanatics on their way there. So, does anybody know which particular sect we're dealing with here? Have those lunatics from the Chapel of Lights become even more hungry? Or is this a completey new brand of madness?" -- Accounts: Bag a Legend • Light Fingers • Heart's Desire • Nemesis • no ambition Exceptional Stories, sorted by Season and by writer ― Favours & Renown Guide
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Professor Strix Posts: 616 5/25/2016	The Inescapable Professor makes her best not to smack her cane in every head available, because that would be an unsporting thing to do with people who weren't her thick-headed students. She starts, instead, to write notes and has a sizeable pile when the conversation finally allows her a moment to speak. "A moment, please? Before you all trail away from the problem yet again?" She adjusts her glasses. "I know that everyone is excited for adventure, and I myself love me a good adventure, but I am also first and foremost a scientist. I refuse to take action without examining the evidence we already have. Then, yes, we will look for more." She puts a big sheet of paper, made by smaller sheets glued together, containing a big lettters transcription of the recording. "Now, bear with me for a little. Let's talk about the Captain wereabouts. He speaks that he is close to London, right? And that he would stop at the St. Francis Look-Out, so it is safe to conclude that this Look-Out IS close to London. Now, you said that the wind and the frost-moths suggest north, but what would a captain coming from the west - Hell is on the west, right? - would do north? What is there of interest there? Is it possible that he thought that he would be close to St. Francis, but is actually lost far away from there? If that is the case, where was him? If not, why a place not faraway from London would have frost moths and whatnot?" Her finger slides to the next few lines of recording. "The lights. Are St. Francis Look-Out inhabited, that we know of? By whom? If it is not inhabited, what could those lights be? The Captain's sentence suggest that the second case is more probable: it is not normally inhabited, or the lights would not be a curious incident. Now, do lights even suggest that there are people in the place at all? I have zailed past islands that are alive and have their own lights," She points to the Captain's last words. "Why did he stop talking? Was he killed or at least made unconscious here? It seems like a stealth move. This worries me. You are talking about sirens, drownies, fanatics, monsters, but are any of those things capable of stealth? Now, what about this sounds? What could cause these sounds? There are two sounds, so we are looking for two things, maybe?" Her hand stops at the quote, "Dante. Intriguing. But it cuts the possibility of religious fanatics. I know religious fanatics, being quite religious myself. They would have quoted the Bible, if they were trying to make a point. Why did this person quoted that particular verse? What does it mean? What is this person, assuming it IS a person, trying to tell us, if they are trying at all?" She looks at them pointedly: "No one tried to answer my question from earlier: why did we found those disks at all? If those people, or creatures, were trying to kill or kidnap the crew, why would they bother to send us neatly packed evidence? Why are they trying to lure us there? What would be the whole point of letting people know that this captain did not simply vanish in Zee, like many others?" She adjusts the glasses again, and puts one white strand of hair behind her ears. "Now, answer me the more pressing question: why would it not be a foolish thing to zail directly to a possible trap in search of more evidence? We are talking about beings that very deliberately and stealthily took a ship, than very deliberately sent us a message. It was cooly calculated on their part. What could we do so we do not end needing rescue from those creatures ourselves? What preparations should we do in light of the questions I did? Does anyone have any possible answer to any of those questions?" Her bat chirps something. She smacks his head and waits for what the others have to say. -- The Inescapable Professor, London's Most Academic Detective. Open to consultation from Mondays to Fridays, above the Silver Binding bookshop, Veilgarden. Half the payment in advance, half after closing the case. No refunds. "THIS SATURDAY, in MAHOGANY HALL, delight your eyes with the DARING FEATS of the DAPPER ESCAPIST. Gape at his CHARM and WIT and his CLEVER TRICKS OF ILLUSIONISM. No mirrors used." --------- Social actions welcomed. Will take menaces if not currently grinding that one stat. Send them and cross your fingers. http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Professor%20Strix My alt loiters suspiciously if you want to: http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Derek%20Davis
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Amelia Syrus Posts: 626 5/25/2016	There's an idle foot tapping as Amelia sits back and watches everyone else deduce the matter. To her it seems as if the only other respectable and sound individual in the room besides her sparring partner had left to the zee. The rest are squawking about like a duchess' parade of white ravens. Too proud, too confident in their skills, and over all acting overzealous about one case. It annoys her to no end but there's something to be gained from all of this. Or so she had assumed before someone decided to make their presence known and show off. phryne wrote: "Amelia, I'm so surprised to see you here! And sober, too! You're not suddenly turning all austere and respectable on us, are you?" "Trust me, love. If I knew things would be a show and tell affair, I'd haul off to Mahogany Hall with the boys then sit back sober to this. Might be more than good for a blower like yourself to show up though. Never know when you'll be needed as you've so kindly shown in tow." She dusts her pants off a bit, seemingly bored by everything as she looks around. "You lot can keep worrying over ta captain but it don't change much. He left and sending a search party or messenger after him is just desperation settin' in. Keep your hats on and make plans to set out if'n you please but going after him all willy nilly doesn't make a lick o' difference. You'll just be expended resources than any good." She stands up. "Now unless that's the only thing on ta table than I'll have to decline this case for once. My expertise not on the zee and I can't do much else save for supplies at best." She bends her right wrist before snapping her finger and a card appears, wedged between to index fingers. It lists her name and address in a slanted scrawl. "Been told I'm easier to find in Medusa than anywhere else these days. But if I'm not there, find me here or below." She places her card on the table while stifling a yawn. If there is more she might stay but otherwise she sees no point in sticking around for the moment. -- Amelia Syrus: A Drunken Thief For Hire.
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Morkan Kassington Posts: 261 5/31/2016	Sitting on the roof, Morkan examines the little ornate box in his hand. The box itself was exquisitely made, a delicate little thing smaller than a bottle of wine. Inside is a little stone-fruit, now pulsating with an amber light. "Guh, so this innit? A happy fruit that can't kill? I wonder why they want this gone... Would'tha be a great party snack instead of the good old killer berries." He furrows his brows as angry shouts from below come through the ceiling to his ear. Time, it seems, is running out. "What's that word they use for it? Nautralize? Nu-tralize? Guh, I am not much of a chemist...." The Boastful Captain looks around. The view is excellent; the air is clear and the weather is fine today; but there is nothing that can help him. He could just use his gun to blow the special fruit apart, but the client did mention a bonus for subtle tampering. "Time for the good old Morkan's concoction, then!" He unbuttons his trousers. The glowing stone-fruit withers and blacken under the shower. "Curses!" The bearded man mutters briefly before descending from the roof via a rope. He,most certainly buttoned his trouser somewhere along the way. He still need to get the little special fruit back where it was. edited by Morkan Kassington on 5/31/2016 -- Ladies of the Neath, here comes Morkan Kassington, the gem among gentlemen (He is actually a self-centered and foolish braggart, but he means no harm. Hit him up for social actions or dangerous lessons! Or just flirt.)
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Amelia Syrus Posts: 626 5/25/2016	There's a sigh that passes Amelia's lips. She expects this to be a very trivial and sordid affair before the night ever clears. But seeing Dirae changes her expectations immediately. For starters she had assumed her new sparing partner would join the crowd, never to join a reserved seat. Next surprise of her life had been hearing that he had a case and in some ways feeling less than thrilled about solving cases in general. But she reserves her ill thoughts and gets the third shock of her life. That shrill sound practically penetrates through to her skull. She has to hold her breath until it passes before she breathes easy. Her ears still ring horribly even after it passes and is replaced by some language. One she doesn't recognize. "Bloody hell, might be a good idea to warn everyone next time," she huffs out. "I'm guessing the problem isn't where the crew disappeared to but rather what happened and who invaded, right?" -- Amelia Syrus: A Drunken Thief For Hire.
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Zoe DeGeest Posts: 104 6/2/2016	The Costermonger watches the odd Zee-Captain fall from the roof. She isn't sure if the man noticed her as he glances about, or if she can survives if he is not friendly. She sells fungal crackers for a living; she has a natural knack for spotting thief and sneaks. Less so on actually sneaking herself. She has a civic duty to be here however! Some idiot, in a bid to corner the market on fungal foodstuff, tried to sell buns laced with solace-fruits! Very nice, very lethal, and happily the first run was too high in price to be bought by anyone at all. She couldn't ignore this so she has tracked the source here. Disguised as a maid she is restricted from approaching cargo, however she overheard some snippets. A zee-captain is feeding their crew nothing but solacefruits! Nonsense, but then the clerks mentioned that they "only have one batch to verify" and "the captain said don't mix it with bread". The last snippet is damning. She wants to burn the place to a crisp, but not when so many people are here. She just need to get out first. Like the beefy man doing something with a wine bottle and a notebook. Is he making a flag? A little ball of paper bounce off his head into her hands - a note? A brief scan of the note and Zoe made her decision. "'ey, mister! I am tryin' ter burn this den of villains down! You are tryin' ter get out too wite'? Help me. Please. Let me follo' ya! If anyone comes after ya, I will back ya up. With tis' or my two 'ands." She tries to flash a cheap Blunderbluss she bought earlier, but her hands are shaking. (First time RPing be gentle) edited by Zoe DeGeest on 6/2/2016 -- Zoe DeGeest, your humble churchgoing grocer, now respectable.
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Estelle Knoht Posts: 1751 6/3/2016	A bird stops Estelle dead in her track. She isn't the type to stop for a paper ball or a chirp, of course. It takes a full minute of desperate pecking from the bird to alert the thick-skinned lady to the plea for help from the bird's owner. Stop someone from burning down the place! Save the poor man's cherries! Get the house she will be getting tomorrow anyway! After all, she does think highly of everyone. No doubt the nice devil at the Warehouse will get it sorted out overnight. And if it all burn down, well, it is a good excuse to hire some of these artists and build a house with amber. Imagine the colors! Fluke-Bore snatches the note with a tentacle, then pass it over to the Rubbery when he is done. He makes an impatient sucking noise and begins to resume walking when the Rubbery meekly tugs Estelle in the other direction. "What's that? You say there's a lot of people inside?" The Meek Rubbery nods. It raise one, two, three, than all of its tentacles. Its brows furrow for a moment before it pokes Fluke-Bore in the abdomen, spooking the Vicious Boring Squid-Thing into raising all of his tentacles as well. "Thank you! Let's see. One, two, three, four, five..." Tears begin to well up in Fluke-Bore's big round eyes as the Rubbery maintains pressure on his abdomen. The Clay Man patiently waits as Estelle lost track of numbers twice. When she made a third mistake, the Clay Man interjects. "EXCLUDING THE GUESTS, THERE SHOULD BE SEVENTEEN PEOPLE INSIDE. I RAISED QUESTIONS ABOUT THAT BEFORE WE CAME HERE. THE LAWYER SAID TEN OF THEM ARE ALLERGIC TO LEMONGRASS. THREE OF THEM HAVE CRIMINAL RECORDS OF PUBLIC INDECENCY ON ACCOUNTS OF INTIMACY WITH A GOAT DEMON IN PUBLIC." The Clay Man makes an attempt to pout before he continues. "THERE IS ONLY ONE MADAM AMONG THEM, AND SHE IS HERE ON LOAN FOR PENAL REFORM LABOUR. SHE IS CHARGED BY THE LABYRINTH OF TIGER FOR SLANDERING MILLICENT CLATHERMONT WITH RUMOURS OF DEPRAVED BEHAVIOR." He puts on a Trilby and hail a hansom cab. "I AM TO ATTEND A SALON FOR HIDEOUS MILLINERY. THERE WILL BE SURPRISE FIREWORKS FOR THE GUEST OF HONOUR, SO I DO NOT WANT TO MISS THE SALON. I ADMIRE FIREWORKS. SHOULD I RESERVE SEATS FOR YOU?" Estelle frowns as she come to a terrible realization. "I don't have any hats at all," She explains mournfully. "I guess only you gets to go." "NOTED. GOOD LUCK WITH THE HOUSE." "Enjoy yourself, then-" She was just turning back to the direction of the warehouse when the two tentacled individuals snatch her up and begins to run frantically. "Remember to bring me the souvenir hat this time!" The Clay Man shakes his head as the hansom cab groans under his weight. The driver looks back and froth between the Clay Man and the sack of antique coins she just received, then grits her teeth and drives the cab ahead. ======= The weasel looks past the rattled woman and lock eyes with the bat the woman's communicating with. It seems that the bat, along with its compatriots, are used to sudden additions to their numbers. The weasel decides to play along; it does its best impression of a particularly stupid Salt Weasel and commence cuddling with the bat. edited by Estelle Knoht on 6/3/2016 -- Estelle Knoht, a juvenile, unreliable and respectable lady. I currently do not accept any catbox, cider, suppers, calling cards or proteges.
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Morkan Kassington Posts: 261 6/3/2016	"Gugh! HALLELUJAH!" Morkan was waiting for a reply from the costermonger when the unholy noise pierce blast his ear and a window shatters. He jumps in reflex and nearly tackles Zoe to the ground but stops, remembering that she is further away from the window than he is. "What the hell was that?" He exhales. " Look, lass, take your time and calm yer' nerves. Watch the door, and lock it if you can. I am going to take a peek outside first. If I get shoot, don't scream." The Boastful Captain looks out the just-shattered window. A group of bats fly by, dazed. He recognize at least two of them; it must belongs to that infernal, bloodthristy bloodsucker, but they are probably more than incapacitated. He watches as the bats slowly fly away. Now that he knows where she is, and with the bats all distracted, he has an opening. There might be more stalkers than he know, but he is willing to take the risk. "Right, lass. If yer' worried, trust in me! I have been in worse situation! If anything gets in the way, I will just surplex them. I wrestled three tigers at once and came out on top! And I thrashed two dozens of neddy man, just right at..." He turns around to point at a past battleground when he spots something that made him pause. A delicate, well-dressed young lady is being carried toward the warehouse by two rubbery folks in a rush. She is easily the happiest and cleanest thing he has seen in his entire life. Possibly an exaggeration. "Wugh," He slurs. He tilts his head to admire the approaching girl a bit before he comes to his sense. "Guh! I better tidy up!" He begins to adjust his bandanna. He fluffs his beard. Checks his fingernails. Morkan Kassington is very distracted. -- Ladies of the Neath, here comes Morkan Kassington, the gem among gentlemen (He is actually a self-centered and foolish braggart, but he means no harm. Hit him up for social actions or dangerous lessons! Or just flirt.)
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Zoe DeGeest Posts: 104 6/3/2016	Zoe stammers for a reply to the Captain's bold proposal when the horrible sound made her jump. His sudden half-lunge almost gave her another heart-attack, since she briefly thought that maybe the Captain's just tricking her and plains to murder her on the spot. Morkan Kassington wrote: "What the hell was that?" He exhales. " Look, lass, take your time and calm yer' nerves. Watch the door, and lock it if you can. I am going to take a peek outside first. If I get shoot, don't scream." She only managed to squeeze out a weak "yes" before the man walks to the window with his back to her. The man got a point - his yell may have attracted undue attention. She locks the door and barricade it with a chair. It was surprisingly calming. It was familiar, like stacking up chairs when she take a shift at the Singing Mandrake. Morkan Kassington wrote: "Right, lass. If yer' worried, trust in me! I have been in worse situation! If anything gets in the way, I will just surplex them. I wrestled three tigers at once and came out on top! And I thrashed two dozens of neddy man, just right at..." "No, no, I believe you! What should we...." The Captain's boasts is oddly comforting, like a father boasting to children how he could take on all the Jacks in the Neath. Zoe realises that she trailed off when the Captain just did the same. He looks fascinated and begins to preen himself. "Mister?" She joins him near the window, then wave her hands at him. She looks out the window in time to see the approaching visitors and almost screamed. Squids! Squids kidnapping respectable ladies in broad daylight! Infernal Squids! -- Zoe DeGeest, your humble churchgoing grocer, now respectable.
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Morkan Kassington Posts: 261 6/4/2016	The costermonger's reply pulls Morkan back to reality, a little. For one, he told Zoe to trust him and he isn't going to disappoint her. Two, he has a job to do. Three, there is an attractive young lady fast approaching. And then some frantic knocking at the door wakes him up completely. Hooves can be heard. "D___! Geronimo!" In one smooth motion the Boastful Captain grabs Zoe in a bear hug and jump out the windows, his back to the ground with Zoe facing up. His landing on an ornamental giant puffball at the entrance was almost perfect, save for the mushroom being more elastic than he thought. Caught off guard by the bounce, his hands on Zoe relax and the costermonger was sent flying right into the more vicious one of the pair of rubbery men. -- Ladies of the Neath, here comes Morkan Kassington, the gem among gentlemen (He is actually a self-centered and foolish braggart, but he means no harm. Hit him up for social actions or dangerous lessons! Or just flirt.)
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Vavakx Nonexus Posts: 892 6/5/2016	An avian menace presents itself, as a flying advertisement for Black Wings Absinthe rapidly descends in the direction of the Boastful Captain, dark edge poking from the right side of it's beak, as the bird bites down on the specialized knife handle, extremely uncomfortable by human standards, but bearable for being carried by a bird. The raven's owner has now wandered off to a nearby cafe and is reading a novel of some sort. The mirror they were peering into earlier now lays unattended on the table, showing a literal birds-eye view of the infernal facility. -- Amets Estibariz, the Moulting Eidolon: Cradled by a sun all their own. Blabbing, the Hobo Everyone Knows: The One Who Pulls The Strings. A Clarity In The Darkness. Charlotte and the Caretaker: A family?
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Koh Kai Ying Posts: 110 6/12/2016	Inside the office. Illyria, "slave-clerk" on loan (she loved the cover, and gave a rant about bestial depravity earlier), has just went back from a "honey dream". A "productive" dream, of "barbecue" with "delicious fruits" and "paper-thin kindles" in the basement. The fire will soon spread to several explosives and an strange device she planted with the Boastful Captain earlier; the warehouse will be blown to high heavens, then the fire will spread. This is the backup plan the Chief Constable gave them, but he was evasive about the unknown device. They can't avoid detection, so the next step is distraction and framing. She sneaks back to the office and screams "Fire! Fires everywhere! Everyone get out!!!!!" She runs out the door and sees the other agent, the Boastful Captain, in a standoff. She makes an exaggerated salute to the "sky" and screams "Hail Wyrm! The Great Wyrm no longer needs Hell!", then hit the goatdemon with her umbrella. When that doesn't work, she quickly back off and gets on a nearby velocipede. She winks at the Captain furiously, then rides for Concord Square alone. -- Illyria K is your friend!! More active nowadays. Eager for any social actions including Loitering!
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Estelle Knoht Posts: 1751 6/16/2016	(Abby you are cool but don't take so much action for somebody else active!) absimiliard wrote: It is not difficult for Morkan to find what happened to Zoe. He knows Absimiliard, the Curious Captain is known up and down the Stolen River. He also knows of Warwick House and it's long history. Standing still so long is really boring! First some a lady came crashing down from the sky and gave her a good knock on the head, then Fluke-Bore and Rubbery spent a good deal of time disentangling themselves from each other. Finally, they undid their own tentacle knohts on her. There was also the pleasing grunts of man-on-goat wrestling, a stampede, some screams and the smell of roasted birds and smoke. Naturally, she dozed off on her feet. "Huh!?" Estelle was shaken awake by two grubby, gloved hands on her shoulders. There was a pungent scent of rose, which only served to made it dreamier. She looks up to see a fair-headed prince! A blonde bear! No, wait, she is still dozy. It is.... a golden beard! With a man attached. He seems to be asking about the woman from the sky earlier. "Well, uncle, I think I heard Abby Bladder-Rose trying to lecture me earlier while my head is wrapped in tentacles," she says. "They are the type to scoop off an unconscious girl off the street to a doctor. Perhaps you heard of them? Warwick House. At least, I heard of you pretty well." She did hear about him last time she was at the Blind Helmsman - the older dockers were busy patting her on the head and holding bets about the Boastful Captain's womanizing ways. She grins, bend down and retrieve a brass key from her shoes. "Key to their house. Even the other passages above or under. And if you don't find anything, try their boat. It's called the Brazen Hus-" "Wow," she mutters, transfixed at the sight. The lost colours of the Surface! The green-and-yellow of Honeydew! The meek orange of, er, orange flower! The dull pink of sausages! "Did you do this? You did come out from the warehouse." She looks up at him hopefully. Behind her, a warehouse burns. Fluke-Bore and Rubbery walks around the perimeter of it, trying to locate if anyone's still inside. ================== The weasel takes the treat and swallow it in a gulp. It spent a bit of time wrapped around Strix's neck, waiting for the time when she will finally fall asleep so it can rifle through her pockets. Although the smell of roasted bird is awfully tempting. -- Estelle Knoht, a juvenile, unreliable and respectable lady. I currently do not accept any catbox, cider, suppers, calling cards or proteges.
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Professor Strix Posts: 616 6/16/2016	As she ponders what to do next without alerting the devils of her presence, the Professor hears a known shriek. It's her biggest bat, a scarred female she calls 'Donna'. "What are you doing here? I was worried. Are your ears better?" Bat eyes are little beady things, and yet the woman is sure that Donna rolled hers. She then pokes the weasel at the Professor's neck and makes a questioning noise. "Oh, the weasel? It is not Linda, of course. It appeared out of nowhere. You know how salt weasels are. D is recovering properly in my pocket, I will send him in a search soon. And no, you cannot have his spot while he is inside." A noise from her coat second that. "Now tell, me, what happened down there? Is everyone safe?" The bat glares at the weasel innocently resting, and then chitters for a while, reporting what she has seen in the warehouse. The Inescapable Professor massages her temples. "So many loud things happening at the same time, it is pure luck that we do not see all the constables here at the moment. I wonder if the others could do any useful investigation there or..." Fireworks explode over the warehouse. The Professor lets a Dutch word out. It may or may not be some curse word. "You know what, Donna, I have half a mind to buy some Rubbery Lumps and resell them to the crowd. At this point, why not?" The bat lets out a squeak that can only be described as a sarcastic "indeed". -- The Inescapable Professor, London's Most Academic Detective. Open to consultation from Mondays to Fridays, above the Silver Binding bookshop, Veilgarden. Half the payment in advance, half after closing the case. No refunds. "THIS SATURDAY, in MAHOGANY HALL, delight your eyes with the DARING FEATS of the DAPPER ESCAPIST. Gape at his CHARM and WIT and his CLEVER TRICKS OF ILLUSIONISM. No mirrors used." --------- Social actions welcomed. Will take menaces if not currently grinding that one stat. Send them and cross your fingers. http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Professor%20Strix My alt loiters suspiciously if you want to: http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Derek%20Davis
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Estelle Knoht Posts: 1751 6/2/2016	Estelle skips into the Warehouse whistling. Following her is a Rubbery Man carrying an euphonium, shuffling along meekly, and some plain Vicious Boring Squid-Thing strutting about with a trumpet. Behind them, a Clay Man dutifully carry a hamper with both arms. A plate-sized First City Coin is unerringly balanced on his head. "Cheerio!" she marches up to the devil and tries to high-five him. "I just came here from the Brass Embassy! They told me they were emptying this place out as part of my compensation package. What are all of you doing here?" Having receiving no response to her invitation of high-five, she gingerly put down her hand. "This place should be empty a month ago," she says. "Is there anything I can help or get you to speed up the process?" Poooooofstostsottsh! Foostsothosthoshts! The plain Vicious Boring Squid-Thing flails his tentacles menacingly. The other Rubbery Man, giant round eyes filled with tears, wrap several tentacles around the Euphonium. "He says Polythreme is a great vacation spot at this time of the year," The presumably respectable lady explains helpfully. "And his family down in Flute Street would love to meet more people from the Embassy as well. If you want, we are all in a position to recommend you." She turns to the other Rubbery man, expectant. "QUARRRRRRRRK!" The Rubbery Man produce a shrill, off-key noise with the Euphonium. Third-rate scarlet stockings explode. Sounds of fruits splattering can be heard, faintly. Outside, bats fall en masse to the ground, dazed. "Anyway, it seems like you are, like, totally not ready. I guess I will come back tomorrow evening. Please be ready. Like you, I don't want to listen to Rubbery Hymn inside the newly open-air Embassy Theatre, as scenic as that was. I still have the Soul of Salami on me, you know. Cheerio!" She waddles out, along with her companions. "I SAW THE PROFESSOR ON THE ROOFTOP ON THE NEXT BLOCK," the Clay Man says. "SHE FORGOT HER SWORDCANE AND I STEPPED ON IT. IT BROKE. WILL SHE ACCEPT SUGARCANE FOR AN APOLOGY?" "I don't know, Mr.Citrine." Estelle pouts. "Sugarcanes aren't very good for moping, or brooding. Just help me figure out who wants to do what with Wyrm." The Vicious Boring Squid-Thing gurgles. "Hey, you are right! It is like a tongue-twister! I didn't know you have a wyrmsical side to you, Bore! Ow!" --- An alarmingly green weasels with three eyes leaps onto Professor Strix's head. From there, it has the vantage point to view the bat-fall. -- Estelle Knoht, a juvenile, unreliable and respectable lady. I currently do not accept any catbox, cider, suppers, calling cards or proteges.
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Professor Strix Posts: 616 6/3/2016	At her vantage point, still trying to understand how many different parties could possibly want to be in the same darned warehouse at the same darned time, the Professor see one young lady that she is fond of marching with two Rubbery Men and a Clay Man right into the accursed place. As she watches perplexedly, one of the Rubbery makes a dreadfully high note with its instrument and she blacks out immediately as her eardrums are completely split by the sound and blood gushes out of her ears. *** She doesn't know for how long she stays there unconscious, but when she wakes up, nobody can be seen in the streets. Most of the bats that she asked to patrol the place are around her, chirping painfully and tugging at their little ears. She takes care of them tenderly with the curing tincture that was meant for her, before sending them home for a well deserved rest. Only her second-in-command refuses to leave and she spends some time caressing him until she feels that her hearing has gone back to normal. She also notices something near her: her swordcane, made by her own hands, her first possession in Fallen London and possibly the one object that she would carry in all of her adventures, was broken in half, as if it was a twig stepped by a child. The blade within was bent beyond saving. She sighed, fighting back a single tear. It was just an object. She carved it in a prison, she could make another in her lodgings. Perhaps one with a marsh-wolf head. Or maybe she could add a blade to her extravagant bejewelled cane. She shakes her head. Priorities. It was not the place for that. "How is everyone?" She asks to her bat, concern in her voice. "Are they all right? I hope they are. This mission is becoming a whole bunch of nonsense. I only wish that none of those youths were harmed by something stupid. I did promise to cover for them." The bat shrugs. D was following the leader of the association in his infiltration efforts and blacked out just before knowing what was in the box the man came there to find. Then, he flew right back to her, worried with her well-being. He knew that her senses were way too sharp since... well, that. She bit her lip, not really liking the prospect to get back to that place and alerting all the devils with her scent, but she wouldn't dare sending D there alone, with the possibility of crazy Rubbery Men being still around. She doesn't notice that three green eyes are following all of her movements. -- The Inescapable Professor, London's Most Academic Detective. Open to consultation from Mondays to Fridays, above the Silver Binding bookshop, Veilgarden. Half the payment in advance, half after closing the case. No refunds. "THIS SATURDAY, in MAHOGANY HALL, delight your eyes with the DARING FEATS of the DAPPER ESCAPIST. Gape at his CHARM and WIT and his CLEVER TRICKS OF ILLUSIONISM. No mirrors used." --------- Social actions welcomed. Will take menaces if not currently grinding that one stat. Send them and cross your fingers. http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Professor%20Strix My alt loiters suspiciously if you want to: http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Derek%20Davis
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Vavakx Nonexus Posts: 892 6/3/2016	Before the arrival of the rubbery company the Game-Carver was attempting to comprehend the situation, but was interrupted by the ungodly sound released by the Rubbery Euphonium and it's wielder. A decision of annoyance follows as the Euphemian Game-Carver pulls out a sizable whistle and creates a loud, but, thankfully, less ear-shattering, sound, and three birds descend from the rooftops. The Midnight-Black Bird receives a blade of Ravenglass. The Lacre-White Avian is given a small, clear mirror. The Cobblestone-Grey Creature receives a message, and all three of them are sent away. The trio of birds flies away in the general direction of the warehouse, with the Game-Carver remaining near the entrance, now peering into a small rectangular surface. edited by Vavakx Nonexus on 6/3/2016 -- Amets Estibariz, the Moulting Eidolon: Cradled by a sun all their own. Blabbing, the Hobo Everyone Knows: The One Who Pulls The Strings. A Clarity In The Darkness. Charlotte and the Caretaker: A family?
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Morkan Kassington Posts: 261 6/16/2016	Estelle Knoht wrote: "Wow," she mutters, transfixed at the sight. The lost colours of the Surface! The green-and-yellow of Honeydew! The meek orange of, er, orange flower! The dull pink of sausages! "Did you do this? You did come out from the warehouse." She looks up at him hopefully. "I, um, ergh...." Morkan stammers and avoid the lady's hopeful gaze. For one, Zoe awaits rescue, and for two, he can't brag right now, when Wyrm's men could be watching. For three, Illyria and the Chief Constable awaits at Concord Square. The lady here is very pretty, but now's not the time. She is also very bewildering and very helpful. Helpful. Yes. He did promise to help. Morkan grab the key, putting a business card in its place and then bows to her. "You have my deepest gratitude, my lady. The name's Morkan. I have to go, but I will be back if you wish. Stay safe!" As he rides to Warwick House on a velocipede, the Captain wonders about the idea to leave the girl alone. But she has company and no one at the accursed warehouse look inclined to harm her. Absimiliard the Bladder Rose wrote: It is not difficult for Morkan to find what happened to Zoe. He knows Absimiliard, the Curious Captain is known up and down the Stolen River. He also knows of Warwick House and it's long history. As he approaches Absimiliard calls out, "Kassington, good to see you. If you're done wasting your time with demons I've need of a good right hand to help me keep a certain young lady safe while my ship's Surgeon cares for her -- my Surgeon has been nearly everywhere, she will have no trouble with a young lady unless there is more here than meets the eye." The Captain's eyes narrow, "I should like to know what you saw, what Estelle did. I'm sure she meant no harm, but she is thoughtless and careless. I love her dearly, but for all her respectability she can be a brat." Morkan was thinking about entry routes when he spots Abby Bladder-Rose..., Absimiliard the Black Rose, standing in front of the house with henchmen waiting. He does know about the Curious Captain, and their words are reasonable. But are them with that suspicious man earlier? Or the bloodthristy Professor? They are also armed heavily. Morkan hasn't seen them armed as such before. "I believe you meant well for Zoe, Black-Rose. I will take good care of her, and when yer Surgeon's done I need to take her to Concord. But answer me this. Are you in league with that infernal man with his exploding birds? I don't trust him one bit and if you are working with them they might be playing you like a fiddle." The Boastful Captain pointedly ignore what the Curious Captain said about Estelle. He doesn't like what he hears. edited by Morkan Kassington on 6/16/2016 -- Ladies of the Neath, here comes Morkan Kassington, the gem among gentlemen (He is actually a self-centered and foolish braggart, but he means no harm. Hit him up for social actions or dangerous lessons! Or just flirt.)
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Zoe DeGeest Posts: 104 6/17/2016	Zoe wakes up, but she is very alarmed at her situation. Could this be a trap? Did Morkan sent her there? Was she just taken? She knows little about unionists. Absimiliard? Or is that Morkan's other name? And these women.......? She check herself. There was some bruises from earlier, but she is not injured. She looks around wildly and isn't very reassured by the two women inside the mansion, but lost and alone her best course of action is to stay polite and ask questions. But she is otherwise fine. [check your PM Absimiliard] -- Zoe DeGeest, your humble churchgoing grocer, now respectable.
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absimiliard Posts: 759 6/17/2016	The Doctor responds to Zoe's questions [PM] simply saying, "I am a doctor. I was told you were found unconscious in the streets. I don't know any of the rest of your answers, let us ask the Captain." She will take you to the front door and let you out. Absimiliard answers Kassington, "Once we were friends, yes, but Vavakx is become a Snake, and presents a terribly grave threat to London. I should not say we are working together, perhaps that I have gravely erred in wasting my time on the trivialities of saving tens of lives -- or hundreds -- when I should have been doing my job," they tap at their Cosmogone spectacles, "and focussing more on them instead." Seeing the door open Absimiliard will turn, "Oh good, she wakes. Then my work here is done." Turning the Captain prepares to go inside. -- "Because, Parabola!" -- the Curious Captain Eating nightmares from friends -- and I'm easy to befriend. Absimiliard: the Black Rose of Wolfstack Docks
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Estelle Knoht Posts: 1751 6/19/2016	Estelle hesitates. The man obviously want her in the warehouse for some reason, but it is hot. And her Rubbery friends are blowing into their instruments - a distress call! She runs around the building to see Fluke-Bore engaged in a tug-o-war against several drownies. Their object of contest is a man she hasn't seen before. A top hat floats nearby. Rubbery waves to her before joining in to assist Fluke-Bore in trying to pull the unconscious man ashore against the drownies. Estelle frowns at the scene, then pulls out a small bottle and uncork it, screaming in unison with the noise released from the bottle. When she's done, she throws the now useless bottle, which bounce off cleanly off a drownie's head. -- Estelle Knoht, a juvenile, unreliable and respectable lady. I currently do not accept any catbox, cider, suppers, calling cards or proteges.
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Zoe DeGeest Posts: 104 6/6/2016	(Why would you do that) As she lands on the mushroom she feels the Captain letting go. Zoe is too stunned to scream. It was absurd. She thought it couldn't get any worse, being grabbed by a stranger and jumping two stories to the ground, but the Captain still managed to surpass her expectation by depositing her in a faceful of squid tentacles. At least God has some mercy for her as she is not entangled. "Don't... don't come any closer! I 'ave a..." She reaches for her blunderbuss as she shrink away from the squid monsters she just flew into. It's not there! It must have fell away when she bounced off the mushroom. She looks back and see it on the ground several meters away. There's also a black raven lying close to it; the blunderbuss must have knocked it out. "Just, just lemme pick it up! Don't move!" She scrambles toward her blunderbuss. The gun explodes. Bits of something - beak, maybe - hit her face. Zoe snaps, scream, and collapse, unconscious. (Will be away for a few days sorry!!!) -- Zoe DeGeest, your humble churchgoing grocer, now respectable.
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Vavakx Nonexus Posts: 892 6/7/2016	The Game-Carver stops reading literature, apparently not as enticing as it seemed at first, and peer into the surface with interest, just in time to witness the accidental offence. They pick up their book and their mirror, hide them in the deepest compartments of their thick gown and rush towards the recently rifle-bombed location. edited by Vavakx Nonexus on 6/7/2016 -- Amets Estibariz, the Moulting Eidolon: Cradled by a sun all their own. Blabbing, the Hobo Everyone Knows: The One Who Pulls The Strings. A Clarity In The Darkness. Charlotte and the Caretaker: A family?
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absimiliard Posts: 759 6/7/2016	During the chaos Absimiliard looks to 'Ms. Faust' and mouths "thank goodness". While the Devils are pre-occupied the Captain quickly snatches up the record-books and heads to a side-office. "If they return Ms. Faust, would you be so kind as to inform the Devils I shall be going over their records for my Principle in this office. The chaos out here distracts me." In the office the Captain begins quickly pouring over the record-books. They pay particular attention to all details regarding deliveries and agents, committing those facts to memory. -- "Because, Parabola!" -- the Curious Captain Eating nightmares from friends -- and I'm easy to befriend. Absimiliard: the Black Rose of Wolfstack Docks
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Morkan Kassington Posts: 261 6/8/2016	Morkan winces at the splattered bird. He was regretting his moment of weakness and picking himself up when the explosion goes off. Even if he is used to violence, scenes like these always disturbed him. At least Zoe isn't injured physically. And his "cargo" is intact despite the rubbery bombardment. The Chief Constable should be reasonably satisfied. He just have to get them both out of this place, and burn down the house. He could come back later for that. He rushes over, putting himself between the unconscious woman and the new arrivals. He is fairly certain the good lady nor the rubbery men will harm Zoe, but he doesn't want to risk someone else. He was about to speak when the door to the warehouse flies open. A goat demon walks out holding a net. The goat demon was prepared to cast its net when it sniffs the air and turns it gaze to a pocket on the Morkan's coat. Then it drops the net and charges at him, eyes molten. "Oh, bugger!" Morkan relucantly prop Zoe into rubbery arms yet again. He decides not to look at Estelle, not after the daydreaming he did earlier. "Turn aside, missy. You shouldn't have to see this." "I could say the same," the goat demon growls as it lunges for Morkan. "Stay out of this!" edited by Morkan Kassington on 6/8/2016 -- Ladies of the Neath, here comes Morkan Kassington, the gem among gentlemen (He is actually a self-centered and foolish braggart, but he means no harm. Hit him up for social actions or dangerous lessons! Or just flirt.)
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Vavakx Nonexus Posts: 892 6/11/2016	The Euphemian Game-Carver arrives at the scene of the avian murder, angrily muttering at first, then going on to shout out varied threats to "those d__n sadists, killed my best bird! Oh, Alexander, what will I do without you? What will happen to the agents? All because of those murderers! Arsonists, the lot of them! Mindless savages!". When the mourner hears the loud noises emanating from the Goat demon, they turn and see the Boastful Captain, and shout out with a profound and passionate "YOU!" before grabbing the black knife laying near Alexander, the now-dead raven and, with rather impressive accuracy, throws it at the running captain. -- Amets Estibariz, the Moulting Eidolon: Cradled by a sun all their own. Blabbing, the Hobo Everyone Knows: The One Who Pulls The Strings. A Clarity In The Darkness. Charlotte and the Caretaker: A family?
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Morkan Kassington Posts: 261 6/11/2016	This must be the "associate" the Professor mentioned earlier. The poor fellow's out of his mind and just as bloodthirsty as her ilk. The fellow is good with knives; Morkan will give him at least that. Sense, not so much. At least he definitely saw the knife coming with so many threats beforehand. "It's not me, you idiot! Do your frame job or getta out of my way!" He yells, halfway through the stranger's rant and ducks under the goat demon. He judges correctly; the demon lunges and takes the knife for him with its back. It roars in pain and turn around to look at the Game-Carver. Morkan takes the opportunity to pull out his rifle and shove it in the goat's open wound. "Stop moving or I will shot!" -- Ladies of the Neath, here comes Morkan Kassington, the gem among gentlemen (He is actually a self-centered and foolish braggart, but he means no harm. Hit him up for social actions or dangerous lessons! Or just flirt.)
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absimiliard Posts: 759 6/11/2016	Finding the name they were looking for in the documents, noting the details associated with it, the Curious Captain's job is done. Sensing things spiraling out of control they open the door and enter the main offices. Spying a Devil they disdainfully declare, "I do not find this amount of chaos reassuring. If my principle chooses to continue your association they shall send another agent. I wash my hands of this affair, your documents are in the office." They stride out the front door. Outside they are confronted with chaos. The effects of explosions of sound, literal explosions, people dueling, Estelle and her cohorts, and what appears to be an innocent young lady unconscious in distress -- possibly wounded. Their decision is instantaneous. The Curious Captain strides straight towards Estelle and her cohort, "Estelle, shame on you, I know this must be your doing. If you wish my vote for the Widow you must convince me you will help her by being good for London." He bends down to examine Zoe deGeest, "Thank my Gods she seems unhurt." The Captain picks up the unconscious girl in their arms and strides away up Wolfstack Docks -- they entirely ignore Estelle, the Combatants, and any distraction. They vanish into the crowds. As they walk towards an ancient zee-faring family's home they order a passing longshoreman, "Ho, Blind Tom, run to my ship, and send my Surgeon to Warwick House. Now away with you smartly." The longshoreman, missing an eye, pulls his forelock and dashes off. "You, boy, race ahead to Warwick House, tell Elspeth I am coming and to prepare for a visitor, she will pay you." An urchin races off through the crowd, dodging and weaving between people, legs, the wheels of a moving cart -- he moves far more quickly than the Captain. By the time the Captain reaches Warwick House, a massive stone townhouse opposite the slip on the Docks that the Warwicks hold, a crowd of rough-looking union thugs, informers, thieves, and vicious zailors has massed round them, clearly an accomplished gang of hoodlums. They sweep crowds away from before them, and no one approaches near the woman and the person carrying her if they are not known. The door to Warwick House opens, an Alluring Accomplice waits within, alongside her is a Ruthless Henchman. "Thank you Elspeth," the Captain says to the woman. "Roj, no one comes in who is not my friend." The Ruthless Henchman draws a wicked looking knife, and gathers troops. "As you zay Cap'n." An older woman, a ship's surgeon by the look of things, trots over from the vessel tied up opposite the house. She is from the Elder Continent, and she carries herself like a Veteran Campaigner. If anyone is capable of handling a distressed, possibly wounded, young lady it is she -- there is an aura of 'I've seen everything and been everywhere, and you'll be Just Fine' about her that can not be denied. The door to Warwick House closes, it is thick oak, like the belts of armor on ships from the Age of Sail -- and bound in bronze. {edit because words} edited by absimiliard on 6/11/2016 -- "Because, Parabola!" -- the Curious Captain Eating nightmares from friends -- and I'm easy to befriend. Absimiliard: the Black Rose of Wolfstack Docks
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Professor Strix Posts: 616 6/4/2016	D feels a salt weasel cuddling with him. He has no problems with that. But then, the weasel makes the tactic mistake of trying to hop on the Professor's right shoulder, and it's his spot. Not even a much bigger bat with attitude could take his spot from him in the past, and no one will do it now. He hisses and bares his teeth at the new animal. The Professor is so used to her pets fighting for space on her "climbing spaces" that she is partially oblivious to the conflict at first. Then, she glances the weasel on her, and becomes very sure that it is not her salt weasel. She picks D cautiously and makes sure he is safe under her coat. He was her first pet and, by God, he will live all the extent of his little batty life. She then offers the weasel a treat. Sure, she had to get back to the warehouse and discover what did she miss; but, then again, random weasel. You don't simply drop a random weasel in the ground after it walked on you and hopes it survives. It's not sporting, and it's against all story conventions. -- The Inescapable Professor, London's Most Academic Detective. Open to consultation from Mondays to Fridays, above the Silver Binding bookshop, Veilgarden. Half the payment in advance, half after closing the case. No refunds. "THIS SATURDAY, in MAHOGANY HALL, delight your eyes with the DARING FEATS of the DAPPER ESCAPIST. Gape at his CHARM and WIT and his CLEVER TRICKS OF ILLUSIONISM. No mirrors used." --------- Social actions welcomed. Will take menaces if not currently grinding that one stat. Send them and cross your fingers. http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Professor%20Strix My alt loiters suspiciously if you want to: http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Derek%20Davis
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Shadowcthuhlu Posts: 1557 6/4/2016	"Gods of Thunder and Lightening, one could never ask for as good a distraction." Dirae Erinyes crouches down. "Let's see, contracts, contracts, and now a new one." They careful take the old contract and lay down a convincing forgery. Why Dirae Erinyes already a has mostly completed forged infernal contract is not important. Neither are a few papers that go missing and a particularly attractive paperweight. The switch is made. Time to relive their wife. -- https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
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Morkan Kassington Posts: 261 6/2/2016	Zoe DeGeest wrote: "'ey, mister! I am tryin' ter burn this den of villains down! You are tryin' ter get out too wite'? Help me. Please. Let me follo' ya! If anyone comes after ya, I will back ya up. With tis' or my two 'ands." "I 'eard you. Let me read this first." Morkan grimaces as he reads the scrap of paper. This third party is much less upstanding than he thought. The Professor was Semi-Respectable with rumours of bloodsucker surrounding her, but he didn't expect her to be literally bloodthristy. Still, it is clear they are on opposite sides now. He wants to get out of the place, either with the special fruit delivered to his employers, or hidden here in the warehouse. They can't allow that, they just want a barge of constables seizing everything, frame job or not. He sizes the Costermonger up. Fish out of water. Out of her league. Full of good intention. He would help her, even if their interests don't align, and now they both have the same goal. "Listen up, lass. I am not going to just help you. You are going to work with me for a way out. I am going to climb down, and I need you to hold on to me back as tight as you can. Keep your eyes up. If you see a bad woman trying to sneak up on me, just whistle. Clear?" He pauses. "What's your name, lass? I am Morkan." -- Ladies of the Neath, here comes Morkan Kassington, the gem among gentlemen (He is actually a self-centered and foolish braggart, but he means no harm. Hit him up for social actions or dangerous lessons! Or just flirt.)
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absimiliard Posts: 759 5/25/2016	"I shall ready my corvette, the 'Brazen Hussy'. Unlike all these civilian ships the Masters allow she is a Navy vessel, lent to our colony at Aestival, and while owned by my sister the Navy likes to keep me on half-pay so they can have me zail her when it is convenient. "If I can find St. Francis Lookout I shall return to tell of where it is more precisely. I do not intend to land -- unless there are survivors to rescue. If I can not find it that in itself shall be useful to know as well. If the Zee herself is hiding an island -- something I find not preposterous at all -- there is doubtless a reason. "If you all don't mind I intend to send a message to my most particular friend. She has a mind that far exceeds mine in most ways, and she has a nature that appreciates mysteries and curiosities as much as my own -- a rare quality. With that the Captain rises and departs, striding confidently out the door. If there is anything to be found in the Sunless Sea, they are clearly confident that they shall find it. At the door they turn around, briefly, "Miss Syrus, the boatman is always at Zee. Death there is quite permanent for most. I shall hope for the crew, but it is a rare voyage to the Sunless Sea that does not involve the deaths of even your own crew. Let us not pin our hopes upon a surviving witness." {edit because: words} edited by absimiliard on 5/25/2016 -- "Because, Parabola!" -- the Curious Captain Eating nightmares from friends -- and I'm easy to befriend. Absimiliard: the Black Rose of Wolfstack Docks
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Professor Strix Posts: 616 5/25/2016	The Inescapable Professor subreptitiously licks his fingers, stained with the blood that has flowed from her ears as the recording played. She asks for the nearest person to fill her in whatever played after she became temporarily deaf and ponders. People are all talking, making plans and being generally active. The detective feels annoyed. She doesn't like to take action without knowing which action should be taken. After trying to discern what, exactly, was making her feel unwell about the recording (besides the sound), she finally have an insight. The small woman waves her cane asking for attention. She speaks on her best professoral voice: "Hey. Hey, you all. Stop for a minute and think before acting, for Christ's sake." When she gets some interested glances, she asks, for no one in particular: "Why were those brass disks even found?" Not everyone seems to understand the importance of the question, so she clarifies: "Whoever spoke those words and turned the phonograph off knew that 'her' voice was being recorded. The recording was not an accident. Why was the brass disk not destroyed, removing any evidence of ill-doing? Why was it neatly packed with the others and 'lost'? We would never be alarmed if those things were not found. They are most decidedly a clue in this case, but a clue to what? Have you ever considered that it all could be some sort of trap?" -- The Inescapable Professor, London's Most Academic Detective. Open to consultation from Mondays to Fridays, above the Silver Binding bookshop, Veilgarden. Half the payment in advance, half after closing the case. No refunds. "THIS SATURDAY, in MAHOGANY HALL, delight your eyes with the DARING FEATS of the DAPPER ESCAPIST. Gape at his CHARM and WIT and his CLEVER TRICKS OF ILLUSIONISM. No mirrors used." --------- Social actions welcomed. Will take menaces if not currently grinding that one stat. Send them and cross your fingers. http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Professor%20Strix My alt loiters suspiciously if you want to: http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Derek%20Davis
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Professor Strix Posts: 616 6/1/2016	If you have never felt that someone just said your name, well, it happens. It is a nagging feeling burning at the tips of your ears and nose, and you may even sneeze if the name was said with too much emotion. In her advantage point, almost a block away from the warehouse, the Inescapable Professor has exactly this feeling. Was it possible that literally no one had noticed that she was not following the group at close quarters? Nah, that is probably just her nerves. Her bigger, meaner and faster bat would follow Koldun in his infiltrating efforts and alert her if her presence, or more direct interference was needed. There were other bats patrolling the place, and some of them had special deliveries. Suddenly, one of them appears, squeaking and chittering in a way that has to be disgust. When she understands what he is reporting, the Professor is equally disgusted. "He did what to WHAT?" Frankly annoyed at this point, she clenches her teeth and decides to sort out this nonsense. She climbs the warehouse quickly and efficiently: it is one of her specialties. Once in the top, the short woman get a sandalwood club out of her coat, with a vake tooth on it. It was not useful in the confrontation with the beast, but it is still a good club. Plus, the sandalwood would get the stench of urine out of her nose. When the zee Captain puts his head out of the hole in the roof, the Professor hits him with gusto, like she would have hit a mole getting out of its lair. His body is heard falling down there again. With a final roll of her eyes, the academic detective goes back to her observation point, grumbling and praying that no devil caught her scent. She doesn't need another burned lodgings. -- The Inescapable Professor, London's Most Academic Detective. Open to consultation from Mondays to Fridays, above the Silver Binding bookshop, Veilgarden. Half the payment in advance, half after closing the case. No refunds. "THIS SATURDAY, in MAHOGANY HALL, delight your eyes with the DARING FEATS of the DAPPER ESCAPIST. Gape at his CHARM and WIT and his CLEVER TRICKS OF ILLUSIONISM. No mirrors used." --------- Social actions welcomed. Will take menaces if not currently grinding that one stat. Send them and cross your fingers. http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Professor%20Strix My alt loiters suspiciously if you want to: http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Derek%20Davis
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Morkan Kassington Posts: 261 6/1/2016	Professor Strix wrote: When the zee Captain puts his head out of the hole in the roof, the Professor hits him with gusto, like she would have hit a mole getting out of its lair. His body is heard falling down there again. "Gugh!" The blow sent Morkan reeling back right into the second floor as he was descending. Luckily, he was built to last. And he caught sight of the assailant's face. He is not best pleased. His employer did brief him on interference, but they should have been neutral parties instead of hostiles. Especially semi-respectable academic old ladies that claims to be vehemently against devils. He glances about. He has landed in what seems to be a sitting room. He could take out his flare gun and land the house in chaos, but his employer won't be pleased. Looking out the window, his suspicions are confirmed. There are enough visitors today that "subtle tampering" is not an option anymore. The place will go down; he will have to turn in the fruit to his employer instead of leaving it here. He has to get out. He can't have that d__nable woman showing up to keep hitting him, though. And he'd rather not ambush her, or whatever conspirators she have. Then an idea sprang to mind. Very slowly, a makeshift white flag made from a wine bottle and a notebook pokes out from the window. -- Ladies of the Neath, here comes Morkan Kassington, the gem among gentlemen (He is actually a self-centered and foolish braggart, but he means no harm. Hit him up for social actions or dangerous lessons! Or just flirt.)
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absimiliard Posts: 759 6/1/2016	Inside the warehouse 'Ms. Faust' and the Curious Captain both wait. There isn't a particular plan, but each knows they must stay in character. The Captain approaches, attempting to flirt with 'Ms. Faust', to do less might alert the Devils something is up. But they can not. Evensong looks at their face, and even with eyes hidden behind glasses she can see distress -- a buried wound hampering the act. The Devils begin to look suspicious. -- "Because, Parabola!" -- the Curious Captain Eating nightmares from friends -- and I'm easy to befriend. Absimiliard: the Black Rose of Wolfstack Docks
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Professor Strix Posts: 616 6/1/2016	A mean-looking bat lets a note drop in the head of the Captain as he waves his white flag. The handwritting is terrible, but small enough to fit the bit of paper: "Stay there and an associate of mine will meet you soon enough. There are a lot of distraction going on down there, so you will have your chance to escape later. If you tamper with one more piece of evidence without telling why, next time, I will be waiting you out there not with a club, but with my swordcane. If you ruined our chance to pin something on the devils with your little act of indecency, white flags will not save you from me." -- The Inescapable Professor, London's Most Academic Detective. Open to consultation from Mondays to Fridays, above the Silver Binding bookshop, Veilgarden. Half the payment in advance, half after closing the case. No refunds. "THIS SATURDAY, in MAHOGANY HALL, delight your eyes with the DARING FEATS of the DAPPER ESCAPIST. Gape at his CHARM and WIT and his CLEVER TRICKS OF ILLUSIONISM. No mirrors used." --------- Social actions welcomed. Will take menaces if not currently grinding that one stat. Send them and cross your fingers. http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Professor%20Strix My alt loiters suspiciously if you want to: http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Derek%20Davis
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Koldun Posts: 133 5/25/2016	Raises a hand, "Wait, the zee is not our only option, we also have this. He lifts the large bronze envelope. Perhaps the ship's cargo consisted of something a third party would have wished be eradicated. If they did, then there would be some sort of documentation. We could use your influence to see if any outside parties could have had knowledge of the trip." He hands her the largest envelope, "Read over that, see if you recognize any names, either rivals or allies." edited by Koldun on 5/25/2016
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Koldun Posts: 133 5/25/2016	"Well I did tell everyone I sent my ape to fetch some documents, and you did just see him return with several envelopes, and you did seem to hear me say he just came back from the Brass Embassy, so in a way, it was easy to put together, correct? Do you recognize anyone from the list, this coward, as you put it?"
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absimiliard Posts: 759 5/25/2016	The door is thrown open. Brooks flies in to land on Koldun's shoulder. The Curious Captain strides back into the room. Despite having been gone for only a short time they return entirely different -- they are now dressed in a gown fit for a ball, but their hob-nailed boots and spider-chitin gauntlets are more fit for a brawl. Behind them paces a tiger, his ears flat -- parallel to the ground -- his tail switching back and forth with tension. "I do apologize for the delay. But even six-months at Zee is not enough wind in my sails to make the walk from Wolfstack Docks to here faster. And I truly apologize if Brooks' absence caused you distress, they landed on my shoulder just as I was stepping into a mirror, and once we were in the Marches there was no turning back. The Honey Road that leads out towards the Khanate, where the Hussy lay at anchor, can not be traveled backwards." The Captain shrugs. "But what I truly regret is that I found nothing. Even after battling lifebergs and pirate frigates my patrolling found no sign of St. Francis' Lookout. In fact the good folk at Puckerridge's Lookout say it has been gone for some time. The Priests at the House of the Question were no help either -- none of my gods, Stone, Storm, nor Salt have taken it." Their tiger sits, but his tail reveals he is still tense. "We spent two weeks cruising the zee near Codex and Whither, it is not there any more. I then zailed East, alongside the icebergs in the North, as far North as it is safe to zail. It is nowhere there, from Whither past the Avid Horizon, and even to Far Irem." The Captain's face is disappointed as they sit once more. "I wish I had better news. I suppose it might be hidden in the forest of pillars near Gaider's Mourn, but I think we shall need to search for it, perhaps find who moved it, and why. Searching the Unterzee without any clue is a fool's errand, and even I am not that much of a fool." The Captain grins at that -- close-mouthed, friendly, self-deprecating. {edit: because, OMG, I used a green-grocer's apostrophe, uggh} edited by absimiliard on 5/25/2016 -- "Because, Parabola!" -- the Curious Captain Eating nightmares from friends -- and I'm easy to befriend. Absimiliard: the Black Rose of Wolfstack Docks
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absimiliard Posts: 759 5/25/2016	"I fear if you told me that I should be honor-bound to ask that you not do so. The crew of the Brazen Hussy are either Navy -- sworn life and limb to her Eternal and Imperial Majesty -- or they are pirates loyal to the Governor of Aestival. By order of the Admiralty I am bound not to risk civilian lives on my missions -- I must admit I also was engaged on a surveillance mission for the Dark-Spectacle Admiral during my search." "However, I do own a personal vessel, a swift zee clipper, the 'Audacious', we are welcome to it's use." "Or, if strings were pulled the Admiralty might be convinced to amend their orders for a special mission . . . . . stranger things have happened -- but I do not have such pull at Admiralty House." -- "Because, Parabola!" -- the Curious Captain Eating nightmares from friends -- and I'm easy to befriend. Absimiliard: the Black Rose of Wolfstack Docks
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Amelia Syrus Posts: 626 5/25/2016	Koldun wrote: "Well I did tell everyone I sent my ape to fetch some documents, and you did just see him return with several envelopes, and you did seem to hear me say he just came back from the Brass Embassy, so in a way, it was easy to put together, correct? Do you recognize anyone from the list, this coward, as you put it?" Amelia holds a finger to wait before gesturing everyone else to continue on. As she reads off (and snickers still on the one name) she listens to the banter about her with ease, only once looking up when a certain lass leaves. She makes a mental note of the one so willing to flaunt herself about before refocusing again. But once the banter hits a more dramatic flow she sighs deeply. "Ya a right theater bunch ain't ya?" She comments as she finally lowers the list to her lap. "No one 'ere has to do a thing they don't want and like the good professor has stated there's no need to rush ahead without first knowing every nook and cranny." She stretches in her seat before continuing. "Ya asked about the one bloke. Gunter McCreedy or as everyone and their aunts call 'em Two Tail. Bloke is a snivelin' coward whose only talent is in pinching. But he tends ta swim with the higher ups and bend easily ta constables at a moments notice." She also knows that he lies and changes his last name for every day in a month. But she doesn't mention that bit at the ready. "Not sure who he's signin' ta this time but you're a sure fire bet there be trouble wiff him." She tucks the list in the envelop before handing it back. "Rest of it is ta usuals you find in the crevices o' Spite. Few o' em that were newly kicked off urchins, few no names with no ties, and some that barely got a leg ta stand on. Not really ta note til ya add Two Tail into the bunch though shouldn't be a problem to make 'em squeal." She cracks her knuckles. "Unless no one wants ta do the dirty work I can easily find 'em wiff enough time to slosh through. Otherwise thas as much as I can make with this." -- Amelia Syrus: A Drunken Thief For Hire.
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Amelia Syrus Posts: 626 5/25/2016	She stops just shy from the door. An exasperated sigh flows out her lips as she turns back, a bit annoyed but intrigued all the same. "Tails s'not what I call a notorious bloke. More like an aunt you'd leave ta devils or docks if you can help it. But I hear what ya sayin'. A ton o' no names traveling north seems more than suspect ta me too. Problem is asking every sludged bloke if'n they have favors in hell is like digging through a pile o' diamonds looking for water. Almost everyone underground worth their salt in the Neath has some connections with Hell. The bloody lot o' em tends ta favor any that can pull off more than a few tricks in shadows or causes more than enough trouble. Tails not too different but getting to 'em is faster than pinching every cranny here." She pulls her hat closer to her eyes. "Whether that leads me to some interesting nuggets of information o' not.... well I suppose smackin' a lily livered leg trash for ta trouble is worth something." -- Amelia Syrus: A Drunken Thief For Hire.
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absimiliard Posts: 759 5/26/2016	A white raven flies into the warehouse bearing a letter from a Curious Captain. "Delicious Friends, I must pursue this further, but I may have discovered something of import. Some of you may have heard of the port of Gaider's Mourn, a pillar in a forest of pillars -- the ships there are hoisted up out of the water to swing in harnesses for loading and unloading, and there are more ladders and lifts than streets in the port. If you have heard that it is a port of pirates and smugglers, then you have not heard wrongly either. "In Gaider's Mourn there is a Gleaming Marauder who has been docked for some time. My own ship, the 'Brazen Hussy', has hung alongside his several times now. He remains in Gaider's Mourn as he is seeking a Taimen bride, and the Khanate does not give their noble daughters away. He is amassing a fortune in Drowning Pearls, a treasure the Taimen Clan values as much as the Leopard clan values darkdrop coffee. "I do not know the details yet, but their is a plot afoot here in London. The bits and pieces I have uncovered point to Gaider's Mourn, and how to dispose of a mass of Drowning Pearls and solace-fruit. "Alas, I think this may not be related to our case. There are no indications of ties to the Brass Embassy at all. I must investigate further, and am doing so today, but I think signs indicate a connection to the Khan's Shadow. So I suspect Khanate involvement. "I wish I had better news, but what Is Is, and what Is Not well, it Is Not. "-A -- "Because, Parabola!" -- the Curious Captain Eating nightmares from friends -- and I'm easy to befriend. Absimiliard: the Black Rose of Wolfstack Docks
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Koldun Posts: 133 5/26/2016	Gets out a pen and begins writing on a paper. "Thank you for informing us of this, I have recently myself discovered something interesting. Captain Stryx, as I have discovered by perusing the documentation, was in fact incredibly wealthy. He had placed down a large amount of echoes, several thousand, as being his personal property. What surprised me most, is that it stated that he had converted his fortune recently from several relics he had received, which was put down as a business expense. What surprises me most is that Hell, and most ships tend to hire people with very little fortune, in order to obtain their services through relatively generous salaries. Yet if I was suffered this salary, I would have tossed it away in disgust. The salary that they had offered the captain was horrendously low, yet one would think a man of his wealth would only take the highest profile jobs. I think that the relics that he had converted were some of those pearls, and I think he was working for this Marauder. Please attempt to question him, or even search his documents for signs of shipping any Drowning Pearls or equally expensive relics to Captain Stryx. The Association Timekeeper and Founder Joseph Hitch He places the letter in a cylinder and hands it off to the rave, instructing it to deliver it to the captain.
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Vavakx Nonexus Posts: 892 5/26/2016	"Founder, may we depart now on this field trip of yours?" Inquires the Game-Carver. "Forgive the impatience, but where will be headed? Not the Embassy itself, I assume. It is in utter disrepair now. Something about an explosion. You've probably heard." -- Amets Estibariz, the Moulting Eidolon: Cradled by a sun all their own. Blabbing, the Hobo Everyone Knows: The One Who Pulls The Strings. A Clarity In The Darkness. Charlotte and the Caretaker: A family?
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absimiliard Posts: 759 5/27/2016	A longboat pulls away from a corvette anchored in the Stolen River. Men, and women, pull at oars, propelling it towards Wolfstack Docks. In the prow a figure stands, legs flexing as the boat heaves under them, the Curious Captain is in London again. Returning to the Association the Captain will tell anyone present what they have found. "The Marauder was indeed dealing with Captain Wyrm. He was arranging a large-scale trade of solace-fruit for a chests full of pearls." The Captain sets out a small plate, and pulling out a small stone-fruit carves it into smaller pieces still. "In amounts like one piece," the Captain pops a slice into their mouth, they sigh in pleasure, "it is delightful, and refreshing, it even brings good dreams. Even a whole fruit, as the one here will merely knock you out for a day or so. But in larger quantities, say two fruits . . . it is the very nicest of ways to die." The Captain offers the plate around, "Care for a slice? No more than two please, I don't care to have to deal with unconscious bodies today." "Imagine what a shipload of such things could sell for here in London, what mischief one could get up to with it?" The Captain grins, it is fierce, predatory -- plenty of teeth are showing. "Imagine what I could do with such a shipment, I assure you . . . I have. Those with my resources, and lacking my morals . . .. .." The Captain sits back in their chair, and lets the statement hang in the air for a bit. They let it roll around in your heads, just long to consider the consequences. Then they finish up. "One more thing. Could we hear that recording again? I've been thinking the woman's voice sounds familiar. Am I the only one who hears Virginia, the Deviless Archeologist?" {edit: c/Stryx/Wyrm} edited by absimiliard on 5/29/2016 -- "Because, Parabola!" -- the Curious Captain Eating nightmares from friends -- and I'm easy to befriend. Absimiliard: the Black Rose of Wolfstack Docks
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Shadowcthuhlu Posts: 1557 5/27/2016	"It's been more then a few years since I've dealt with her." Dirae Erinyes and Evensong relish a fruit together. "But why would Hell presumably sink one of their own ships? A power struggle in the Embassy?" -- https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
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absimiliard Posts: 759 5/27/2016	"Then be resolved that we shall give it our best. You must know I shall, I quite enjoy this sort of trickery and deception though I traditionally only practice it on Mr. Feducci, and if he ever deigns to apologize for his wrongs to me I shall cease stealing his secrets then." -- "Because, Parabola!" -- the Curious Captain Eating nightmares from friends -- and I'm easy to befriend. Absimiliard: the Black Rose of Wolfstack Docks
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Vavakx Nonexus Posts: 892 5/27/2016	"If anyone deserves to be touched by a thief's hand, it is Feducci, in for naught else, then for bearing the endless rotten corpse of antique mysteries that attracts Londoners like flies. But, I digress. There are confidences to be acquired." -- Amets Estibariz, the Moulting Eidolon: Cradled by a sun all their own. Blabbing, the Hobo Everyone Knows: The One Who Pulls The Strings. A Clarity In The Darkness. Charlotte and the Caretaker: A family?
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absimiliard Posts: 759 5/28/2016	"No need Dirae, I have a pair of my own. Taking them off Sinning Jenny was possibly one of the most exciting afternoons I've spent. I'd highly recommend trying it yourself, if you weren't married. Though I'll take that card if you don't mind." The Captain departs and returns to their home. Not long after they leave Warwick House and walk down Wolfstack Docks to a very particular warehouse. They have changed out of their uniform and are dressed in the most au courant of gowns. It is the same dark irrigo, near-black, as the uniform but is embroidered throughout with threads the color of zee-foam under Neathy Stars. They wear fine white gloves instead of gauntlets, though again, the fingertips are removed to allow fingernails filed to points to show. Their tiger, Dawon, pads quietly besides them. As the Captain walks past Dirae and Evensong, loitering suspiciously on the Docks, they swing their hips just enough to swish their skirts up revealing a pair of scarlet stocking-clad ankles. They wink at the pair, forgetting that behind their spectacles no one can see it, but continue on without other indication they know them. At the warehouse the Captain enters, with Dawon. Within they answer several questions from the Devils, "No, I am not here to see Catalina, and please inform her how much I regret our parting, but I will not see her, ever again. Yes, my threat against the Affectionate Devil is genuine, if ever I get him alone I shall pull him behind mirrors, and you will lose one of your finest agents. Consider the risks to your capital before you try for my soul again. Ahhhh, yes, well, this doesn't involve either of those, I'm here on business. A simple transaction." The Devils seem skeptical, but when the Captain pulls out a box filled with fresh solace-fruit they agree to listen. "My associate, the Gleaming Marauder, has asked me to bring you this sample of the product for the next shipment. We have some concerns however, regarding previous shipments and payments. I shall require access to your books to satisfy his concerns. If all is in order we may proceed to settling the details for that next shipment." All hangs in the balance on the Devils' answers. . edited by absimiliard on 5/28/2016 -- "Because, Parabola!" -- the Curious Captain Eating nightmares from friends -- and I'm easy to befriend. Absimiliard: the Black Rose of Wolfstack Docks
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Shadowcthuhlu Posts: 1557 5/30/2016	(Sorry, when I was trying to post here last night, I kept getting interrupted.) Evensong enters the building. Her modest clothing was swapped for an irrigo suit and a devilsh fedora set a rakish angle. With a confident swagger, she marches to the desk. “Ms. Faust here,” she announces as she slaps her papers on the table. The devil eyes her and eyes the good Captain. Evensong fingers the fine pistol sitting at her hip. The devil gives an apologetic nod and rushes over to Evensong. “Ms. Faust, we weren’t expecting you at this establishment.” “Well according to these papers, my shipment is here.” “There must be a mix-up.” “Are you telling that there was a “mix-up”? “It must be an honest mistake-“ “Are you telling the bazaar that you made “an honest mistake?” The devil keeps a deep sigh. This is clearly going to be a difficult customer. -- https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
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Rysiek Posts: 693 5/25/2016	phryne wrote: "Aha!" comes a voice from the ceiling. "Thanks for clearing that up, darling!" A candle suddenly flames somewhere up in the darkness. The candle is held by a woman. The woman is reclining in a hammock slung between two rafters. Everybody is looking up at her, quite nonplussed. She smiles, quite dazzlingly. "Wait, I'll come down. You'll cramp your necks looking up like that much longer." In a swift, fluid motion, she unties one end of the hammock and glides down the piece of cloth to land elegantly between the two "reserved" seats in the middle of the room, blowing out her candle and taking a short but elegant bow. She is wearing a practical, completely unremarkable, everyday walking-dress of indifferent colour. On her head, however, perches a ridiculously elaborate hairdo that seems to defy the laws of physics - it probably wouldn't last on the surface, but down here, those laws are less strict... She puts her dazzling smile on her discombobulated audience. "Thank you, Miss von Ravenscroft. Paradiso, eh? Wouldn't've thought of that! Only ever read the Inferno part. Personal interest, you know." "Koldun, my dear. I suggest next time you want to set up a discreet meeting of your not-so-secret society, you choose a venue with a few holes less in the roof." "Vavakx, good to see you still pursuing mysteries every which where. Say, would you mind running after that stupid captain who left earlier? He's gonna get himself killed. Not that I mind, but he's gonna get his crew killed, too, and I hate to waste good zailor stock like that." "Amelia, I'm so surprised to see you here! And sober, too! You're not suddenly turning all austere and respectable on us, are you?" "Dirae, Professor van Allen", she nods respectfully to the two academics. "Honoured to meet you two. I've read all your papers. Even might've understood a few of them." She completely ignores the Silesian detective. "Well, this recording suggests the presence of some sort of religious zealots in the Northern Unterzee; near Codex, more precisely. That's where St Francis-Look-Out is, you know? Most of the time, anyway." "Which is a spot of bother for me. I rather like Codex. Lovely people there, you know? Never interrupt you when you talk to them. And I plan to hold a discreet meeting of my own not-so-secret society there by the end of the year. I really wouldn't want to have half the invitees fall victim to some stupid fanatics on their way there. So, does anybody know which particular sect we're dealing with here? Have those lunatics from the Chapel of Lights become even more hungry? Or is this a completey new brand of madness?" "Madness? Sounds correct for me. A catastrophe at sea. Dante, whom I appear to be the only person not to know... some italian for sure. Insane Sektenmitglieder who attack a ship, close to h--- knows where.... case closed. Deaths in the sunless sea every time on every voyage. No reason to care then. It was those insane as it appears.... but that answer could be too simple. There may have been more complicated things. It was north, right? Even I, who was only at sea when I took the ferry to Dover, knows you should NEVER go north in the Neath.... the question is.... why? What happens in the North? And, am I understanding right, that.... chapel of lights are canibals? Was it them who attacked the ship? Did they eat the crew? What was the captain doing there? Apparently very far north. Stupidity? Madness?" -- The silesian Detective http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Rysiek The incredible Warsovian. She certainly didn't steal your diamond necklace. That idea is RIDICULOUS... http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Maria~Konstantynopolska The silesian vengeance seeker http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Agata~Grym I apologize for any and all anachronisms. I am too lazy to check some facts if I am sure they are from the 1890s or sometimes think they are. Oh, and by the way, I am not polish, I am GERMAN to clarify for heavens sake... tylko po polsku mowie. Um Himmelswillen...
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absimiliard Posts: 759 5/25/2016	[Your raven does not return Koldun, I'm sorry to say sending it after the Curious Captain is a hazardous task, especially when the first step of my voyage was to rejoin my ship at zee (where my SS save-game placed it) by traveling through the Mirror Marches. I promise you I shall return it none the worse for wear, and only six months older, when my character returns from Zee. Again, apologies, as well for speaking out of character.] -- "Because, Parabola!" -- the Curious Captain Eating nightmares from friends -- and I'm easy to befriend. Absimiliard: the Black Rose of Wolfstack Docks
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phryne Posts: 1351 5/25/2016	"I find myself rather unconvinced by the Siren theory. Drownies, however, now that's a different matter. They sure know how to use their voices in ways most persuasive. They are surely capable of luring zailors to their deaths, and some of them are black-hearted enough to find pleasure in such an activity. But the Fathomking usually holds a tight rein upon his people. If Drownies should now make a habit of preying upon ships near St-Francis-Look-Out - and this ship was not the first to disappear somewhere near that location - it would suggest they're protecting something. Something valuable, to them at least." -- Accounts: Bag a Legend • Light Fingers • Heart's Desire • Nemesis • no ambition Exceptional Stories, sorted by Season and by writer ― Favours & Renown Guide
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Amelia Syrus Posts: 626 5/24/2016	It had been hard for Amelia to ignore the fliers and posters. They had been scattered everywhere and not just in copious amounts in Ladybones Road. The wind (maybe the wind?) had scattered them to the corners of London and she found more than a few over in Spite. Along with some snickers and hushed tones about a "mini constable club." She can't argue with that but she doesn't brush it off entirely. There can always be something to gain from a salon of people, even small. Everyone likes to talk and boast about their skills when there's an audience watching. Even she knows there could be a benefit to even watching those that do come to this "association." Resolved she takes one of the papers and starts with the address. The time it takes her to arrive is not long but she had wished traveling had been better. Though walking inside and seeing the circle of chairs makes her think otherwise for a moment. Reserved seating. She could only imagine the seats were there for close friends or more higher up on the societal staircase of life. The kind she hated with every fiber of her being. "I'll stand," she says simply. Only ever looking back at the door before looking ahead. But she keeps silent, swallowing back her judgement and keeping her senses sharp for anything. -- Amelia Syrus: A Drunken Thief For Hire.
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Amelia Syrus Posts: 626 5/24/2016	Amelia gives a tip of her hat to the captain. She had seen them before in a few salons. But this had been the first time every exchanging more than a glance and a few phrases. "Same to ya," she speaks clearly. One could assume it's because for once she's sober and not half way through a bottle. "I'm sure you've heard a few things here and there on my reputation but that's nothing here. Where anyone's loyalties lies seems unimportant for now. Real point of discussion is whats in the ads." She takes out the parchment she saved and tapped it gently. "Criminals being front and center.... Not surprising things have been in the high rise and for more than just criminals too. But that's how it is here, right?" She narrows her eyes a bit to the founder, not exactly sure how to take it. "Downy," she says simply. "Course you could say otherwise. But even with the simplicity of ta arrangements here, you can't tell me it's not a bit suspect." She pockets the parchment before gesturing to the seating. "Seems less like wantin' to get to know people and more like you want to see the kind of color o' Neath life you fished out. Though that's not to say I'm against it. I wouldn't be here otherwise." -- Amelia Syrus: A Drunken Thief For Hire.
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Vavakx Nonexus Posts: 892 5/24/2016	Someone else walks into the circle. An individual recently seen not a month ago on the walls of the Department, bearing the title of Jack-of-Smiles. Unlike what the bounty-papers would have you believe, they seem calm and do not bear the bladed armament usually wielded by the famous murderer(s). "Forgive me, I was led to understand some sort of unofficial Safety Committee is being created here. I am interested in joining." Following the common trend, they plop into one of the more comfortable chairs. "Vavakx Nonexus - generally knowledgeable citizen, owner of a small shop on Ladybones'" they pull out an ivory figurine of one decidedly uninteresting fellow. "Made it myself..." A long pause follows as they wonder where to place the statuette before hiding it into one of their pockets, whence it came. "Can we bring in a table? We will need something to place future evidence and other materials on." -- Amets Estibariz, the Moulting Eidolon: Cradled by a sun all their own. Blabbing, the Hobo Everyone Knows: The One Who Pulls The Strings. A Clarity In The Darkness. Charlotte and the Caretaker: A family?
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Professor Strix Posts: 616 5/24/2016	The Professor slaps Absimiliard's back merrily when they talk to her. "Oh-ho, zee-voyages are fun! Of course we can swap notes, just keep cave-crickets handy for the Flock of Science's fee. The poor things fly a lot to get the notes delivered." She uses her finger to caress her bat, and it chirps in delight. As the table rises, she whispers to Absimiliard: "Silence about him. He is in a mission now." Koldun wrote: "Pulleys, actually, not rats, I believe in a more mechanical lifestyle. Well, now that we have quite a few people we can begin. First of all, if you hope to live normal life, never encountering an oddity, please leave. If you don't feel joy when discovering a secret, also leave. And finally, if you hate adventure, also leave." Awaits a response. The Professor rolls her eyes, beginning to show signs of her not-exactly-plentiful patience and mutters: "Oh, sure, because no one here showed up for a meeting after picking a random invitation in a piece of paper on the the street, sent by God-knows-who. We are surely the normalest people in London." -- The Inescapable Professor, London's Most Academic Detective. Open to consultation from Mondays to Fridays, above the Silver Binding bookshop, Veilgarden. Half the payment in advance, half after closing the case. No refunds. "THIS SATURDAY, in MAHOGANY HALL, delight your eyes with the DARING FEATS of the DAPPER ESCAPIST. Gape at his CHARM and WIT and his CLEVER TRICKS OF ILLUSIONISM. No mirrors used." --------- Social actions welcomed. Will take menaces if not currently grinding that one stat. Send them and cross your fingers. http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Professor%20Strix My alt loiters suspiciously if you want to: http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Derek%20Davis
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