 Shadowcthuhlu Posts: 1557
11/1/2016
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Still a bit early by my clock, but everyone else seems to be getting the party started. ----------------------------------------------------------- A hulking figure squeeze themselves around the table. The first one here, the clock hands on their mask tick towards the appointed time.Green glass eyes patiently wait behind the clock face mask. They rearrange their outfit, pushing the chimes back inside and brushing off their wood paneled dress. edited by Shadowcthuhlu on 11/1/2016 edited by Shadowcthuhlu on 11/1/2016
-- 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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 The Atumian Sputum Posts: 137
11/4/2016
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(There are RPs to finish. Forgive my silliness.)
Sun-touched feathers, fringed with red the melted color of gold in candlelight, surrounding two eyes opaque and round as Ra's wristwatch that peer from above a thin, pointed beak of yellow. It's quite an impressive picture, and looks rather out of place on the body of a clearly young ectomorph, nervously peering out of those paper-mache eyes at a small card. The eyes look up from the paper, turning their blank gaze to Table Six. "Hello!" exclaims some light voice from behind the theaterhouse beak, "Forgive me for being late. I hope I'm not interrupting any important discussions, am I?"
-- Straight outta Dahut.
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 Shadowcthuhlu Posts: 1557
11/5/2016
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"Godd--m-it this happens every time I try to go a party. Could you at least put off this business until after the dessert course?"
-- 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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 Sara Hysaro Moderator Posts: 4514
11/5/2016
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Treat in hand, Sara steps out into the streets just outside the coffee shop. The presence of constables confuses her, but she doesn't even have a moment to process them before a white raven swoops down and lands roughly on her shoulder. Immediately she becomes alarmed - Caldyr only does this when something is very wrong. The raven whispers in her ear, words swift. "Get back inside."
Before she can comply a group of unfamiliar faces emerges from the building. The woman ranting about her rights and a defeated sigh confirm her immediate suspicions - this group is being arrested. She stands clear of their path, but Caldyr's rough grip tells her this simple arrest isn't the danger. He watches the constables closely, having sacrificed the advantage of a higher perch to watch for the danger they were awaiting.
The shadowy figure darting out from the shadows causes Sara to jump and Caldyr to give it an intense glare, the latter poised to act in an instant. Sara readies herself to run back inside, but elects not to risk drawing the interloper's attention. She observes the transpired events in silence, gathering what information she could of the situation while pinned to her position like some poorly concealed quail. Only when the shade scurries into an alleyway after briefly taking a hostage does she allow herself the freedom of movement, raising her arm upwards to provide Caldyr a more comfortable perch. She gives the ruined treat a glance before discarding it onto the ground. -- edited by Sara Hysaro on 11/5/2016
-- http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Sara%20Hysaro Please do not send SMEN, cat boxes, or Affluent Reporter requests. All other social actions are welcome.
Are you a Scarlet Saint? Send a message my way to be added to the list.
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 Shadowcthuhlu Posts: 1557
11/4/2016
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Dirae Erinyes wonders if they are the only person at this table not somehow related to the Charles Sketch.
-- 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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 Ginneon Thursday Posts: 265
11/1/2016
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A Harried Maître D' gracefully swings by the table with a tray of glasses and a tall bottle of something very old. He uncorks it in an instant - the bouquet that greets you smells of spice and dark berries. "From Table Eight - compliments of Professor Ginneon Thursday. He also sends his regards to your brother, Ms. Dynamo." He pours with speed and precision, leaving the tablecloth spotless. His poise is such that you hardly notice the cage of struggling ferrets under his arm.
-- Ginneon Thursday: Revelrous Professor of Benthic Departments of Mycoenology, Lepidoptery
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