 malthaussen Posts: 1060
11/1/2016
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A shambling and graceless orang-ootang lurches into the seat labelled "Malthaussen" and begins a diligent study of the crockery and silver. After nibbling a bit on a dinner roll, he lobs it at the occupants of table Four, who are deeply involved in some conspiracy or other. The words "Food Fight!" are distinctly heard.
-- Mal
-- "Of two choices, I always take the third." Will do all socials except Loitering or Private Evenings (all my Free Evenings are accounted for), and Affluent Photographer Betrayals only, please. I am not currently accepting calling cards. http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/malthaussen
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 Estelle Knoht Posts: 1751
11/1/2016
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Vavakx Nonexus wrote:
"The Despicable Simian over there..." They point towards the impish figure over at Table Two, whilst holding a fistful of food. "Has dared to assault my headgear with a thrown dinner roll. And an already bitten one, might I add, covered in saliva and other unpleasant substances. It deserves punishment for it's misdeeds upon the dinner and coffee house in general!" Their voice rises to a scream, and an unlucky batch of cut mushrooms leaves their hands for the ape at Table Two.
Most of the mushroom failed to hit the intended target. Instead, they fall quietly into the tureen of soup - a creamy concoction of dead Blemmigans and rose petals - as if they are sacrifices into a well. The soup is too thick for the mushroom to make any sort of splash.
Estelle peers into the tureen for a brief moment, then serve herself a bowl. There are no mushrooms. She sits back and watch the food accumulates on Vavakx's headgear.
-- 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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 A Dimness Posts: 613
11/1/2016
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-(Posted from Table Four)
The Mirthless Colonist stares on at the fracas impertinently for a while, biscuits and morsels are flung both-ways throughout the room, guests join or take cover, or try to ignore this outburst of deranged stupidity and immaturity. Finally, something cracks in the Mirthless Colonist. Literally, that is. A stuffed crab-claw hits him right on the mask, leaving a nasty split through the right eye. Carefully, he takes off his mask and puts it on the table in front of him, puts his wine-bottle on the floor, and empties out his goblet.
Now, he throws over his chair and pulls a derringer! He stares at the ape and empties the derringer's cilinder into the ceiling above it. The sound is deafening, and the room quietens as white dust and small ceiling-debris settle on Malthaussen's figure. As all attention is upon him, the Mirthless Colonist gracefully picks his chair up and stands it at the table, sits, wipes his mask off, and puts it back on. "Now," he continues, "Where were we?" The food fight continues, and several laughs are thrown in the humiliated ape's direction.
edited by Infinity Simulacrum on 11/1/2016
-- A truth so strange it can only be lied into existence
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 Catherine Raymond Posts: 2518
11/1/2016
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"My word," says the woman to Evangeline, "does that man honestly expect culinary discrimination from an ape? Oh, by the way, you may call me Catheryn."
-- Cathy Raymond http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/cathyr19355
Catherine Raymond aka Mrs. Rykar Malkus http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Catherine%20Raymond (Gone NORTH)
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