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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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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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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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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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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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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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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Addis Rook
Posts: 125
8/31/2017
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Addis sits at a table nearby once he has been served, sighing out heavily as he considers the idea of a rubbery man running for mayor. London is just not ready for that kind of radical thinking, or those kinds of speeches. Perhaps in 20 years or so. Maybe. These people are strange.
He tucks the bread and cheese into his bag, and sits at an empty table with the coffee and shortcake, briefly observing Persephone speak with the other young lady who seemed to rouse the suspicion of the Antioch. A fight inevitably breaks out, to which he responds by simply raising an eyebrow and sipping his coffee unconcerned. Eventually he loses interest as people crowd around the girls and block his view.
He takes out a book out from his coat pocket, and turns to a page bookmarked by a ribbon decorated with brass buttons. He begins to casually skim over names, and descriptions. Bored red eyes glance at the man behind the counter waving a knife around. The Antioch... The Antioch...
Oh. There is an entry under this alias. Brief, one of the older ones in this compendium, but detailed enough to give Addis an interesting little read. A somewhat frightening man, from the sound of it. Not someone to openly cross. Addis makes a small signal with his hand to wait for the right moment.
A few minutes later, after the girls and Antioch leave, a man a few tables over from Addis collapses to the floor, clutching the small table in front of him. He sends porcelain crashing to the ground in a tremendous noise that causes everyone to turn to see what's going on. He convulses violently and gurgles, as though trying to scream through the red foam and regurgitated coffee that comes flowing out of his mouth and onto the ground. The convulsions slow into trembles. A small, desperate wheeze through the foam signals his final breath as he drowns in his own vomit, and his bloodshot eyes glaze over with true death.
Addis finishes his cake, and casually approaches the crowd of terrified bystanders to get a good look at the man's face, before he is carried off in a hurry by the festival security to prevent further panic. He smiles and crosses out a name in his Intriguer's Compendium with red ink. As he leaves to check on the status of the other targets, he takes his second serving with him, plate and all. He takes the strawberry from atop the shortcake and tosses it into the air, where it seemingly disappears into the sky. A small thank-you for a job well done.
edited by Addis Rook on 9/2/2017
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Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1557
9/14/2017
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“So, that was fruitless,” Evensong complained, as she laid out a cornucopia of candles collected from local village shops, from beachcombing, and from drunk visitors.
“Maybe it’s hanging out in the cave system – God Almighty, you could hide the whole island and half in those tunnels.” Dirae Erinyes carefully laid out their dishes of tentacle-filled shellfish, scaled cephalopods, and toothy snails. Once they finished laying out their feast, a casual (and most likely chased by a drunk villager) would not see the candles, and assumed both of them were just feasting on the seafood. Not that there many of those – too far from the impromptu bonfires and the sacred well to be considered a good spot.
“I would prefer spend the evening listening to the drownies. I think they have some new songs this year.” Harmonious crunching and chewing. "You know, I would've thought fish oil candles a terrible idea."
edited by Shadowcthuhlu on 9/14/2017
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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
9/14/2017
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An empty platter and a rapidly draining bottle of wine lie in front of Lord Gazter. He finishes glass of wine in his hand, and begins pouring another. His companion leans in to ask Lord Gazter something that only the two can hear. Lord Gazter smiles and gives his assent. Lord Gazter’s companion makes his way out of the relative quiet and calm, and into merrymaking crowds outside. Lord Gazter places the glass against his lips, and takes a sip of his wine. He begins to take in the take in the flavour, when his eyes fall upon a familiar figure over at another table.
“Greetings Dirae!” Lord Gazter calls out to Dirae with a grin on his face. What a fortuitous turn of events it is to meet you here on Mutton Island, dear friend.” he says with an exaggerated movement of his hands. “I have plenty of wine to drink, but alas I can only drink so much. Why don’t you and your lovely wife come, and join me.” Lord Gazter smiles invitingly, and takes another sip from his glass.
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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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Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1557
9/14/2017
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With a shared nod, Evensong and Dirae Erinyes performed an elaborately choreographed routine, moving the dishes without disturbing a single scale or allowing a wayward glance at all the candles. Lord Gazter finds himself surrounded by a traditional Mutton Island feast.
“Lord Gazter, I have to admit I was a bit surprised to find you here. I thought it would be too provincial for your tastes,” Dirae Erinyes admits.
“I’m not.” Evensong can’t stop herself from chiding her spouse. “The only person too urbane for this festival is our mayor, but maybe that’s because he’s not a proper Londoner. . .”
“Anyway, what do you think of all this?” Dirae Erinyes asks as a fillet disappears behind their mask.
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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
9/14/2017
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“The festival this year has been marvelous,” Lord Gazter says as he pours wine into the two of the three unused glasses in front of him. “It is always such a delight to get away from the burden and dreariness of the mundane for a while and take in sights and sounds of Mutton Island’s festivities.” Lord Gazter gracefully places a glass in front of each of his guests. “Especially after the chaos and mayhem of this year’s mayoral election.” Lord Gazter tuts in distaste. “Of course one’s enjoyment of festivities is always made better, when in the company of friends and comrades,” he adds with a wink before taking another sip of wine.
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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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Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1557
9/14/2017
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Dirae Erinyes accepts the wine with a hearty quaff. Evensong sniffs her wine glass and gives a carefully sip. She gives a small smile to indicate that this no offense meant, but one can’t be too careful. “Here’s to good drinks and good friends,” Evensong proposes. “And to parties less raucous than an electoral mob,” Dirae Erinyes adds. After a shared gulp, Dirae Erinyes gives a chuckle. “So, are you really here just to fish, or do you have something else up your sleeve.”
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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
9/14/2017
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“The festivities are enough to bring me here. The excellent hospitality, and the exquisite food, and wine, and amicable company of course might have in part been behind my decision to come here.” Lord Gazter swirls the last of the wine in his glass before emptying it. “I also can also joyfully say that I am not here for business.” Lord Gazter ponders over the idea. “Although I do suppose that it would not be impossible to set up a Mahogany Hall performance here. Of course it would be difficult to convince those in question to perform away from Mahogany Hall, and of course I would be required to write another piece of theatrical work to accompany such an peculiar event.”
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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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Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1557
9/14/2017
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“Maybe you won’t have to write that much – have you heard of the commedia dell’arte? I believe I saw a troupe of them dancing around the well earlier. With that, you just need a novel premise fitting with the season and they can do the rest. Though if we could fit a few more performers in there. . .have you seen the Princesses around?” Dirae Erinyes muses as Evensong watches a strolling couple in the distance.
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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
9/14/2017
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“A brilliant idea Dirae! With that plan we might be able to make a spectacular event that will dazzle and enthrall the people London.” Lord Gazter takes another sip from his wine and sighs contently. “What shall this play be about Dirae? It is only fair to let the one, who came up with this extraordinary plan to have a say in this matter.” Lord Gazter looks up from his glass, and at the strolling couple as they stop a short distance away.
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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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Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1557
9/14/2017
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“Well, a Commedia Dell’arte must always be a comedy – at least the very best are. Hm, my first thought it a romance of sorts – a lover lost at sea returns as a drownie, only to discover their love is being courted by an utter beastly bore. But one that is wearing down the resistance of the other half of the star-struck duo. A scheme to upstage this rival and win back their love. A scheme that involves a comedic duo of smugglers, pirates, and occasional fisherman to help out our poor drownie. How is that for a start?” Dirae Erinyes starts to arrange to fishbones to stand in for the characters as they explain.
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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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Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1557
9/14/2017
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“Lord Gazter, did a romance end badly. Don’t tell me you tried to chase Englantine down their damned path?” Dirae Erinye’s voice softens. “Or was it someone else.”
“We are no strangers to romantic heartbreak. Confession does sometimes.” Evensong grungle admits, knowing that she is showing an unwise weakness.”
“Or do you just want to drink?” Dirae Erinyes asks. “I once spend a whole year without being sober because of heartbreak.”
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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
9/14/2017
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At the mention of that name Lord Gazter’s mind races with too many thoughts and questions to think properly. He begins to hastily open his mouth to ask one of them, when he begins to think better of the idea. He closes his mouth and takes hearty drink of his wine. Lord Gazter spends the next few moments attempting to regain his lost composure, but is only partial successful in that endeavour. His demeanor has not changed.
“Dirae… have you heard anything about Eglantine recently?” Lord Gazter asks desperately.
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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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Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1557
9/14/2017
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“Citizen Fox is current working in the bazaar’s employ, in the same capacity as the one known as Passionario. She has followed her mentor well. I don’t often handle her paperwork, but occasional spots of trouble summon us to the sides of our fellow clerks.” Evensong pauses, her voice no longer masking the cracking of bone in Dirae Erinyes fist.
“Much like Passionario, I think her heart only has room for one, and that person is not living. Unlike Passionario, they are considered a heartbreaker in the more. . .traditional sense. I’m am sorry that they were careless of your heart, but I would not expect an apology from them. It would be healthy for you to move on – her path is not one you should follow recklessly.”
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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
9/14/2017
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“Of course.. of course you are right, dear friends,” Lord Gazter says with a touch of melancholy. “A mere lapse in my better judgement. I’m sure that these silly thoughts will simply fade in time, and most certainly I will take your excellent advice, and not continue to worry about this absurd matter of pursuing them any farther,” he reassures Dirae and Eversong with weakened albeit convincing smile, although he does not truly stop thinking about these ideas. “Let us talk about some other matter,” he insists, “something less distressing.” Lord Gazter drains some more of his wine, but even that does not seem to keep at bay those uncontrollable, irresistible desires of the heart.
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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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Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1557
9/14/2017
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Dirae Erinyes gives an understanding smile – their heart is more willful then their wife’s. “It’s been a while since I was in Mahoney hall proper – they refused to stage my Rubbery Man play. How was that old place been getting on without me?”
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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
9/14/2017
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“Rather splendidly if I do say so myself,” Lord Gazter says more cheerily than he previously was, although his mask had returned. Underneath the mask inescapable longing still held sway. “Although I have tragically written so very few pieces recently.” The heart's desire is not something denied. “My work in assisting artists of many varieties inside Mahogany Hall and outside of it and time at court have taken a rather sizeable amount of my attention as of late.” Unforgotten passion burns brighter than before. “But the recent performances have been wonderful as of late.” Dreams and hopes and desires... “One of my older pieces has had a few recent performances to the acclaim of many.” That name still in the forefront of his thoughts... “Would you and your charming wife be interested in attending one such performance?” Eglantine.
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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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Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1557
9/14/2017
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“Of course.” Dirae Erinyes offers a clasped hand over Lord Gazter’s own. “Tell me all about it.” It’s hard to read those green glass eyes, but one could see understanding. Even if the name is lost in the faceted glass. “It’s best to throw yourself in these sorts of projects.” Evensong eyes go back to watching the crowd. Her heart as only belonged to one. “Plays are better than the court,” she remarks.
edited by Shadowcthuhlu on 9/14/2017
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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
9/14/2017
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Lord Gazter begins to summarize the basic aspects of the story and the inspirations behind it. His mind still focussed on those thoughts. The festivities continue and the melodies still play. Eventually Lord Gazter says his goodbyes to Dirae and Eversong, and makes his way back into the crowds and their merryment. Maybe he could find some respite from this longing in Mutton Island’s crowds of revelers.
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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
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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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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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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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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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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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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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