Lord Gazter
Posts: 665
8/21/2017
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The false stars shine in the roof of the neath, as the firelight below shifts and twirls in the darkness of the neath. The light itself almost seems to dance to the music that is carried on the air. Mutton Island is aglow with torchlight and decorated with all manner of festivities. The Fruits of the Zee Festival has begun. The musicians play their instruments, and a group of drunken revelers sing some bawdy tune. Some dance wildly to the music with flowers in their hair. Others feast and drink till they have had their fill. Some only watch the merriment, but take comfort from it nonetheless. All take their part in the festivities as all are welcome.
(This is an RP thread open to all those interested in participating. Have fun and enjoy, and don’t forget to have some rubbery lumps. It would be a horrendous shame not to try such a delicacy.)
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Lord Gazter: a charming gentleman of noble birth and a person of significant influence.
Victoria Crow: a spirited la.. young woman and freshly anointed firebrand.
Get a copy of the Phlegethonian Gazette for pertinent and trustworthy news! Only five pence!
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Blaine Davidson
Posts: 388
8/21/2017
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Ms. Davidson perches uncomfortablely near the darkened Eastern shore, glaring into the brackish water beyond.
She toys with a gently mangled daffodil in a gloved hand, muttering to herself.
"Oh course he wouldn't be here, why would he. What are you up to...?"
The unfortunate flower continues to look worse for wear.
edited by Blaine Davidson on 8/21/2017
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Blaine Davidson, a reserved and sensible woman with a fondness of collecting rarities.
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JimmyTMalice
Posts: 237
8/21/2017
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Gideon Stormstrider displays his dubious inventions for all to enjoy in exchange for a small donation to the Foundation for the Advancement of Inconvenienced Academics. A small crowd has gathered around him as he speaks. A stray urchin darts up and pokes him in the chest, as if to check that he is real.
"Come one, come all! Marvel at the latest in practical fashion: the Unflippable Umbrella! No more shall your umbrella be inverted by the anger of Storm! It also comes in several fetching patterns."
A scant few echoes rattle sadly in his collection tin, but at least he appears to be having a good time.
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 Gideon Stormstrider, the Esoteric Gadgeteer
 Jimmy T. Malice, gone.
A Tale of Two Suns - Meeting Your Maker - A Squid in the Polls
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Catherine Raymond
Posts: 2518
8/21/2017
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A middle-aged woman in a serviceable olive day dress approaches, picking her way down the slope to the beach. She grins at the umbrella-seller, and remarks, "This is what I love about Mutton Island. The fresh Zee breeze, the greenery, the lack of pretense. Not a lack of secrets, by any means, but a lack of pretense."
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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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Siankan
Posts: 1048
8/22/2017
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"At least before nightfall. Care for some lumps? I caught them myself." The amber-suited gentleman passes a cone of delectably fried lumps. "If I am not mistaken, madame, we have corresponded before. Professor Sian Kan, at your service," he said, with a low bow.
"There's a profound peace to fishing the Zee, is there not? When you're not being attacked, of course, but that is the price."
edited by Siankan on 8/22/2017
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Rysiek
Posts: 693
8/22/2017
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A woman in a black leather jacket sighs "Umbrella... what do I need one for?" She wonders "Not raining... Besides the patterns aren't nice. If there was one in pink uhm... squares." She shakes her head l, pulling her collar up "What was I for... Lmps." She remembers, suddenly seeing a cone "Could I please get one?" She asks
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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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Siankan
Posts: 1048
8/22/2017
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"Certainly, madame. Teague!" he calls. A handsome young man (maybe late teens?) comes over.
"Yes, sir?"
"Do you have a spare cone of lumps?"
"Afraid not, sir. Landy ate them all. Well, Landy and Drake."
Professor Kan sighed. "Run along and buy a cone for the lady, if you will." He handed the boy a small purse. As his servant ran off, the professor turned back to his new companion. "He will be back with your lumps in a moment. In the mean time, how have you found the festival?"
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Rysiek
Posts: 693
8/22/2017
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"Found... Urchins shoved me to ferry." She explains "Hard not to find." Maria says, confused
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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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Siankan
Posts: 1048
8/22/2017
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"He means, love, are you enjoying yourself here?" A woman sauntered over in a dress of deep blue, shot with apocyan. "And if not, perhaps this will help?" She passes a fresh glass of Morelways.
"Ah, ladies," said the professor. "May I introduce you to Ondine, my research assistant?"
She extended a hand to each. "Charmed, I'm sure."
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Anchovies
Posts: 421
8/22/2017
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"Did I hear someone in need of some rubbery lumps?"
Why, it's Lionel Anchovies, a steaming cone of lumps in each hand! "In my enthusiasm, I rather forgot to keep a hand free. Perhaps we could each solve the other's problem?" A cone is proffered to Maria.
"Ah, much better." Anchovies delicately plucks a lump from their remaining cone. "What sort of beauty did you come from, I wonder?" They raise the lump close to their eye and give it a squeeze. The lump oozes. "Perhaps a question best left unanswered." Anchovies pops the lump into their mouth, unconcerned by its mysterious provenance.
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Perhaps our role on this planet is not to worship God — but to create Him.
—Sir Arthur C Clarke
Lionel Anchovies. Character on indefinite hiatus.
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Blaine Davidson
Posts: 388
8/22/2017
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"I have found the festival to be rather quiet, what with the absence of our mayor." Ms. Davidson begins thumbing through Stormrider's wares. "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything personal."
She sighs. "This trip was disappointing, but I suppose it was naive to expect Feducci to follow in Jenny's footsteps. Don't suppose you have anything that removes stains?"
She gestures to her suit, it has been generously splattered with an assortment of unmentionable fluids.
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Blaine Davidson, a reserved and sensible woman with a fondness of collecting rarities.
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Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1557
8/22/2017
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Evensong nibbled on a perfectly crafted wax sandwich – complete with a fake toothpick and olive – somehow keeping her balance on the rocking boat. Dirae Erinyes was not making it better, unbalancing the boat by standing at the prow, fighting with the rod. It’s was a tremendous struggle, with cursing more colorful then the phosphorescent beetles, a steel line pulled more taut then a neurotic barristers nerves after a rowdy devil party, and more tentacles sprawling out a Japanese woodcut.
“Beloved, it might be time to call it day,” Evensong dryly notes, as she paused in dinner long enough to stab a tentacle that got too close
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“Nonsense! I have –her-him-whatever on the ropes.” They turn over to grin at their wife, as the rod continues to twist in their hands. “Anyway, with a catch like this-grunt-it’s sure to distract the locals-vivid cursing- from our hunt for the real Mary Lloyd!”
edited by Shadowcthuhlu on 8/22/2017
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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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Lord Gazter
Posts: 665
8/22/2017
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A young woman in an oversized black coat makes her way through the crowds of people. With one hand she pops a rubbery lump into her mouth and with the other she stealthily places a rather expensive looking silver necklace into her one of her coat's pockets. She begins loudly chewing on the last of the rubbery lumps. While looking around for something else to nick, or something interesting to do, she spots a coffee stand. She considers it for a moment before shrugging to herself. Victoria makes her way over to the booth. Her boots audibly thumping on the cobblestone road.
"The sign says you sell coffee," Victoria exclaims, as she points a finger at the sign. "How much is it?"
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Lord Gazter: a charming gentleman of noble birth and a person of significant influence.
Victoria Crow: a spirited la.. young woman and freshly anointed firebrand.
Get a copy of the Phlegethonian Gazette for pertinent and trustworthy news! Only five pence!
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Lord Gazter
Posts: 665
8/25/2017
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On closer inspection Victoria looks only a few years older than Persephone. She looks at the Antioch with puzzled expression.
"I wouldn't think so," she answers him. "Unless someone been talkin' about me behind my back."
Victoria pulls out fifty pence from one of her coat's pockets, and places it down on the booth's counter.
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Lord Gazter: a charming gentleman of noble birth and a person of significant influence.
Victoria Crow: a spirited la.. young woman and freshly anointed firebrand.
Get a copy of the Phlegethonian Gazette for pertinent and trustworthy news! Only five pence!
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Sara Hysaro
Moderator
Posts: 4514
8/25/2017
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A light breeze rolls by as the next ferry delivering excited passengers pulls into port, the trees rustling a soft reply as it makes its way towards more northerly regions. Most of the crowd hurriedly step off from the vessel, simultaneously eager to join the festival and return their legs to the solid ground to which they were accustomed. Sara Hysaro lingers behind, wrapping up a conversation with a zailor growing increasingly keen to depart from this eerie little village. Caldyr, her white raven companion, flies off slightly ahead of her, perching on a nearby tree branch with an almost childlike giddiness. She offers him a fond smile and wave as she passes by, committing to memory what pertinent information she was able to gather from gossiping with fellow passengers and the occasional crew member.
There was little expectation of being able to acquire enough guidance from this festival to secure as safe a trip to any specific place as one could expect from the Unterzee, but the Fruits of the Zee attracts a significant number of zee-faring folk offering their embellished tales in exchange for flattery, all cultivated around a grain of truth. Sara purchases some rubbery lumps and settles near the musicians, tapping her foot along with the beat subconsciously as she watches the dancers.
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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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Addis Rook
Posts: 125
8/26/2017
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A figure dressed in finely tailored grays and maroons stands on the most recently arrived ferry, leaning on the railing and peering down into the zee. A single thin brown braid descends down below the surface of the water, like an arm reaching vainly towards the depths, looking for an unseen hand's caress. In their hum echoes the haunting cadence of a Drownie hymn, drifting out over the waters like jetsam.
They sigh in dissatisfaction as the ferry empties, and wrap the braid around their neck like a scarf. Out of the darkness of the sky, two ravens, dyed black, come to perch on their shoulders. As they whisper to each other, rats emerge from below deck and join the discussion. They soon depart, flying and scurrying into the shadows of the unnatural greenery of the island, each with a small pouch of glittering red jewels, leaving the figure alone once again.
Stepping onto the island as one of the last to depart, they turn their attention to the various booths. Umbrellas, surface food, strange contraptions and instruments, and of course, the suspicious main attraction, rubbery lumps. Seems like as good a time as ever to buy some food for everyone. They approach the booth selling surface food, and speak to the charming young lady in the front in a soft-spoken tone, as the man running the booth seems to be preoccupied with another young lady.
"Ah, excuse me madam, may I have some coffee, two slices of strawberry shortcake, a loaf of bread, and some cheese? Mild Cheddar, if possible. Also... Who is Squidley Johnson, again?"
edited by Addis Rook on 8/26/2017
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JimmyTMalice
Posts: 237
8/26/2017
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The Mutton Island wind howls. A lone figure stands on a clifftop far above the pinprick festival lights, arms wide, clothes and hair whipping about wildly in the tempest. He leans into the wind, teetering dangerously on the precipice, but the storm's hands keep him upright.
Gideon screams into the wind. "I understand now! I know what the thunder said!" More quietly, below the roar of the wind, he adds: "Thank you, friend."
In the faint moonish light, the grass is singing.
A lone figure returns to the festivities, short hair bedraggled by the storm-winds, giving a broad idiot grin to anyone who looks his way. But now there is a third who always walks beside him.
edited by JimmyTMalice on 8/26/2017
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Gideon Stormstrider, the Esoteric Gadgeteer
Jimmy T. Malice, gone.
A Tale of Two Suns - Meeting Your Maker - A Squid in the Polls
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Sara Hysaro
Moderator
Posts: 4514
8/29/2017
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A lull in the festivities provides a prime opportunity to hire a fishing boat and enjoy a bit of quiet. Sara rows out into the darkness away from the other anglers, Caldyr rejoining her at the prow of the little vessel. They settle into a promising location, Caldyr briefly surveying the area for hazards while Sara prepares the bait.
"Care for a sandwich?" Sara asks the raven upon his return. She practically sings a continuation. "I made your favourite."
"Hush. We're fishing," he quietly retorts. A moment's pause, then an even softer reply. "But yes."
The pair fall to silence as they await a bite, Sara glancing at a pocketwatch periodically to ensure they won't get caught in the currents. After a time her mind wanders into memories of a zee-voyage years past, at the end point of that experimental trip acting as captain of a submarine.
* * *
"What exactly are we supposed to tell the crew, when they come out of that tavern and see we're nowhere to be found?" The Twinkle-Eyed Lobsterman waves the pair off, amused, and pockets an echo's worth of rostygold, the supposed fare for an out-of-season rental. Sara rows into the night with agitated purpose.
"Hush. We're fishing."
She rolls her eyes, eying a small rip in her sleeve conspicuously. "Can't believe you put a hole in my sleeve over this."
The raven looks down apologetically. "My apologies."
"Not accepted. Remember how much this cost?" Sara whines. Caldyr opens his beak and Sara cuts him off, "Yes, yes, we're fishing. I got that. Thanks."
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A short while spent in irritable silence was broken by something finally taking the bait. Sara reels it in with all her strength, Caldyr offering helpful tips, until the catch tires itself out enough to pull out of the water. Cheers are abruptly cut off by the actual sight of the thing. The two regard its visage in stunned confusion, its organic folds and curious protrusions denying any clear identification. It thrashes angrily in the air, upset lending it a second wind, though its efforts ultimately futile.
"Wh...what is that?"
"It...appears to be an organ that emancipated itself from the rest of the body."
"Ah. That makes sense."
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The crew draw straws outside the tavern; the unfortunate bearer of the short straw swears under his breath before taking the bizarre organism from his captain. "I need you to zail to this location," Sara points out a location on her sea chart, close enough to serve as a lure but far off enough to buy enough time to investigate. "Toss it in and turn out the lights. Make your way back to port without attracting its attention."
A soft sigh beckons to Sara and two remaining crew members, carrying a bucket each. "You sure that's a Harlot?" one of the crew ask, squinting at the green-gowned woman in the distance. Caldyr stares at him, appalled by his language. The zailor doesn't notice. "Looks like a normal lady, t' me."
"Well, if it takes the bait we will know. Y'know?"
Sara ignores the two as they continue to debate, suppressing an irrational sense of dread as she gazes upon the supposed siren. Cold eyes pierce hers even from across this distance. Can it see? How much does it know? Suddenly the woman slumps over, dragged into the depths by an unseen force. One of the crew members becomes five echoes richer, the other five echoes poorer. Together they gather up zee-eggs from the rocks while the submarine pulls its way back into the harbour. "Far more than the cost of a shirt, yes?" Caldyr remarks playfully, perched upon Sara's outstretched arm.
"I...I wasn't really upset." she answers in a regretful tone. "Maybe a bit irritated, but I didn't hold it against you. Not for anything so minor as that."
Caldyr nudges her affectionately, glad for the apology. "I know."
* * *
The line abruptly tugs, drawing Sara out of her distant memories. Caldyr perks up, peering over the side as she reels the catch in. After a small battle something like a starfish is dragged out of the zee, weakly protesting. Sara frowns at it in jest. "Not nearly as pretty as the thing with the rainbow fins I caught last year."
Caldyr looks around, studying the area. "I think you caught that one over...in that direction. Not enough time left to try for it today."
"Alas. Well, back to the excitement." Sara carefully stows her new prize away and makes her way back to the festival at large, increasingly eager to stretch her legs after such an extended time spent seated. Perhaps a bit of dancing is in order.
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edited by Sara Hysaro on 8/29/2017
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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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Lord Gazter
Posts: 665
8/30/2017
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Victoria blinks and stares at the Antioch perplexedly. Eventually Victoria's confusion gives way to indigence. Her brows begin to furrow. "I have no b___dy idea what you're going on about," she bluntly informs the Antioch. She crosses her arms. "And I don't give a single b___dy toss about whatever it tis' your going on about. All I care about is gettin' my some b___dy coffee," she huffs noticeably annoyed by this unexpected and unjustified accusation.
Victoria is tempted to toss the hot coffee into the Antioch's face to teach him a lesson in manners, but decides it best to not do so. After a moment of silence Victoria goes over and finds a nearby chair to sit in while muttering something under her breath. She takes a sip from her coffee, and glares angrily at the Antioch from over the rim of the cup. It wasn't particularity bad coffee.. no, the coffee itself was rather good. She takes another sip making sure to avoid eye contact with the the Antioch.
edited by Lord Gazter on 8/30/2017
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Lord Gazter: a charming gentleman of noble birth and a person of significant influence.
Victoria Crow: a spirited la.. young woman and freshly anointed firebrand.
Get a copy of the Phlegethonian Gazette for pertinent and trustworthy news! Only five pence!
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Lord Gazter
Posts: 665
8/30/2017
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Victoria takes a hearty sip from her coffee, as she listens to Persephone. The coffee was truly unique. The spices seemed to mix and well with the coffee giving it a excellent flavour. Victoria looks back up at Persephone, and sighs.
"Well who the b___dy h__l is he then?" Victoria asks exasperatedly.
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Lord Gazter: a charming gentleman of noble birth and a person of significant influence.
Victoria Crow: a spirited la.. young woman and freshly anointed firebrand.
Get a copy of the Phlegethonian Gazette for pertinent and trustworthy news! Only five pence!
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