Sophia Harrow
Posts: 20
7/4/2017
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"A Night for for Knives and Candles: The rakes and ruffians who play Knife-and-Candle are out in force tonight. Some have been drinking, and at least one thinks that you are his mark."
"Playing even rougher: Of course, you could just stand on a nearby rain barrel and loudly declaim that any players of Knife-and-Candle nearby are gutless weasels with all the poise and breeding of a sorrow-spider."
"Knives and Wax: Players of Knife-and-Candle come at you from all directions! Knives flash in the dim light, and wax goes everywhere. Used to ambushes, the players attempt to escape your wrath. A few make it away, although others lie bleeding on the cobblestones as you take their candles."
Perhaps I went a tad too far in that encounter....
anyone else got an opprotunity card that gave them a laugh?
edited by Naomi Barlett on 7/4/2017
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Estelle Knoht
Posts: 1751
7/5/2017
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"Three ladies faint. So do three gentlemen and a passing waiter. Two cats fall off the roof and and an elderly horse outside keels over. You are denounced in two newspapers and a sermon. What words! You have definitely gone too far this time."
And not a drop of scandal.
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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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Ludovico Santiago
Posts: 14
7/6/2017
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My favorite is:
Suspicious pallbearers watch your approach, but when you lay the stiff-whiskered body gently on the ground they nod grudgingly. You stand quietly while white-collared rat-priests solemnly spit and trample on an image of St Gertrude de Nivelles. A minuscule double row of rat-choristers squeaks a requiem. A blear-eyed ratwife pats your boot consolingly. "E was too good for this wicked world,' she assures you. "E's best off quiet in the earth. Bein' et by beetles."
--
http://www.fallenlondon.com/Profile/Ludovico%20Santiago
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Tystefy
Posts: 450
7/6/2017
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My favorite is when you send in a bold explorer (weasel) decked out in the finest gear (candle on head) into a vaguely owl-shaped abyss.
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Will sometimes return to post absurdity.
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PSGarak
Posts: 834
7/6/2017
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My favorite text is from Unfinished Business in Watchmaker's Hill, where you win fights so easily your mind starts to wander. When did I promise to meet someone for tea? Did I leave the oven on? Why are people throwing Rostygold at me? Oh, right.
My favorite text from a Card is from when the Curt Relicker sees hidden messages in your pile of scraps, and recertifies half your kitchen appliances and your hat.
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http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/PSGarak
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Kukapetal
Posts: 1449
7/8/2017
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I can't remember if either of these came from cards, but I've always loved these two little bits of hilarity:
"Last night was something of a blur. Someone, who might have been you, drew a map to 'getting absolutely slewed'. You don't remember much after that, but you do have a few beer mats in your pocket. And look, someone has drawn on them."
and
"The heads moan and cackle and weep. One is counting backwards in French. Another seems to be choking. The leaves tremble miserably. Left to its own devices, your plant won't say anything of use."
I always try to write a funny title for everything I journal, but in both cases, I realized there was absolutely nothing that could make these funnier and just let them stand on their own :P
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crazyroosterman
Posts: 187
7/6/2017
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I think my favourite text not for comedic reasons but because its one of the rare times in game I've experienced the bowl loosening kind of power that the masters wield.
its the text you get for failing to rob the bazzar (not sure if this is considered a spoiler or not please let me know if it is and ill adjust accordingly) when you get captured and dragged before a measter and just.....looks at you which breaks your mind.....its easy to forget having player armour on but there's a dam good reason the maesters are the maesters have control of London.
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Sophia Harrow
Posts: 20
7/7/2017
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Here's another one on the house
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"The Assassin"
"A professional killer has been hired to end your life. Is this a victim's revenge? A lover's spite? A matter of professional rivalry? For now, the reason hardly matters"
"Send the Assassin a box of chocolates and an insulting note:
A pox upon nocturnal skulkers. Let them come! You are invincible!"
"Bong!"
"Your note appears to have angered the assassin to the point of imprudence. Scarcely an afternoon passes before the fellow knocks on your front door in a rage. He is armed, of course, but you are expecting trouble. You have the forethought to place a heavy iron coal scuttle near your upper floor window, and gravity assists you in dealing with the gentleman. You relieve him of his advance payment for your murder."
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Not bad for one of the less muscle-bound Londoners huh?
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Reused NPC
Posts: 259
7/31/2017
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A few of my favorites:
You confront Jasper, telling him that it is time he returned to his duties. He hits you with a sledgehammer until you go away.
By the time you arrive at the publisher's office, someone else has stolen the manuscript. Can one trust nobody in this city?
"Capital! You're now a menace to foot traffic across London!"
Next season's fashion will be for arrhythmic ballet in fuchsia pantaloons. Poetry is dead. The Consort wishes to see a production of Coriolanus, staged on burning frigates on the river. ...Someone is having you on.
A note arrives for you. It smells faintly of cats. The Duchess, no doubt.
Your hymn is a hit! They're belting it out all over city. Churches throw open their doors to huge crowds and bring in extra pews. Your work inspires a dozen tiny splinter-sects, some with alarming theological quirks. The newspapers report outbreaks of public decorum and good works. An angry mob sings your composition as they hurl a startled devil into the river.
The Paronomastic Newshound's headlines locate him in a dangerous territory: the hinterland between Increased Circulation and Editorial Defenestration.
Losing an argument is always painful. Doubly so when the loss is due to some critic beating you unconscious with a leather-bound volume.
An editor at Saint Cyriac's Illuminated College has suffered a nasty accident with a typewriter. They have an unexpected opening. The college that is, not the editor.
And, my favorite...
This part of the journal has been clumsily removed, by what might have been claws.
And maybe it's just me, but I've always found the name "The 23rd Neathy Rifles" to be pretty ridiculous.
Of course, maybe some of this is just me, but that's fine. I hope at least a couple of these give ya a rise.
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ReusedNPC, a d__ned lunatic.
Edmund Viric, a rather dreamy sort.
"I won't stay long, I shan't stay long! Tell me a secret."
--the Baldomerian
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Professor Strix
Posts: 616
7/5/2017
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I would always chuckle with the Young Buck card. Other that never ceases to amuse me is the one in which you have to take care of some dogs (or would they be marsh-wolves?) for a tomb-colonist.
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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."
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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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Plynkes
Posts: 631
7/8/2017
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"It's a fair collar, and no mistake, but society is to blame."
Excessive referencing of Monty Python can become tedious, but sparingly used it can make one chuckle. It did so this time.
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"Then tell Wind and Fire where to stop, but don't tell me."
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Morkan Kassington
Posts: 261
7/8/2017
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I like the Young Buck card.
The virtues of experience
He nods hungrily at your acquiescence. He asks when you should duel. You shoot him. Perhaps he will show more wisdom when he recovers. You take his expensive cravat as a souvenir.
A triumph of age and treachery
Is there some factory on the Wolfstack Docks churning out callow young bucks? There are a dozen of them, each more desperate than the last for fame at the cost of your hide. There are too many to fight fairly, so you take up a sniping position and start to pick them off. The wiser among them drop their purses in the hope of mercy as they run.
The first one is funny, the second one is ridiculous.
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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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A Dimness
Posts: 613
7/31/2017
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I really just want to say.
This thread appeared under "The Starveling Cat! The Starveling Cat!" in my unread topics.
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A truth so strange it can only be lied into existence
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