Elaina Schill
Posts: 191
12/12/2018
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So, I don’t see a lot of these and I’m not quite sure how all this works yet, but here’s the premise: a salon about the zee, flesh, clay, and life in general, hosted by my main, Phiri Ulfur, and the Pirate-Poet. Ignore the torrid romance, if you please. Feel free to drop in and join whatever’s happening, just please be respectful. I haven’t done this before so I’m relying on others’ expertise. Please tell me anything I'm doing wrong or any feedback at all either here or by messaging me through the forum. Have fun!
***
Curious dark blue scraps of paper litter the streets. They clog the gutters like Surface-leaves, urchins gather them to sell as kindling, and some have been folded into boats and float down the Stolen River like sickly ducks. Should you be curious as to what the paper would say, this is what you would read:
An Open Invitation to Any and All Persons to a Salon about Clay, Flesh, the Zee, and Life in General
Hosted by Phiri Ulfur at the 9th Zee-Znail’s Zhell on Ladybones Road
Arrival times from 8am-11am December 13th and ends whenever there are no longer attendees
Refreshments will be served
No RSVP necessary
Guest speaker: The Illustrious Pirate-Poet
“Do you think anyone will come?” asks Phiri worriedly, staring out the small window in the sitting-room of her zhell.
The Pirate- Poet rises from her seat and places her large hand on Phiri's shoulder. “I told you, this is a perfectly respectable way to get people’s attention. I’m sure people will come.” It had been the Poet's idea to scatter the invitations around London and Phiri was still unsure that it had been a good idea.
Phiri turns from the window and surveys the room for the umpteenth time that morning, making sure the tea and nibbles were appropriately laid out and that there was enough seating.
The Poet gently squeezes Phiri's shoulder. “It’ll be fine,” she assures Phiri, but Phiri is sure there's uncertainty in her voice.
Phiri sighs. “Whatever happens, I just hope we have enough tea.”
--
Main, Phiri Ulfur, the Cunning Shadow. Their heart belongs to a Pirate-Poet across the Zee.
Alt Vermillion Liminate, the Tragic Scholar.
Alt #2,Lady Jacqueline Blackwood, the Savage Beauty.
Alt #3, Veracity Taylor, the Dame of the Docks.
The Dogged Seeker, self explanatory.
I will accept any social actions on Fallen London(unless its a box of live rats. I already got rid of the d---ned things once and am not eager to repeat the endeavor).
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Aberrant Eremite
Posts: 362
12/22/2018
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Hieronymus Drake’s expression is as serious, his brow as furrowed as ever, but when Ondine catches his gaze, the faintest twinkle might have been seen in his eye.
“Ahem,” Drake clears his throat. “I shouldn’t wish to compete with such distinguished versifiers. But, simply in the spirit of amusement … I might have something.” The man has had several glasses of wine as well as a wineglass full of vodka. He still looks sober to a casual glance, but his speech and movements are deliberate, overcontrolled. “’Tis simply a Neathy variant on a little-known poem from before the Fall, by one Clement Clarke Moore.” Drake folds his arms behind his back and declaims:
‘Twas the night before Sacksmas, in my rooftop shack,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a rat;
The Rubb’ries sang eerily, down in their well,
Danced ‘round trees of amber, and one rang a bell.
The Missus and I were all Sacksmasy drunk,
We’d retired to our bed with a mushroomy plonk.
When down from the docks there arose such a racket,
I snatched up my saber should I need to hack it.
Away to the window, quite fast, but I hobbled,
I crashed through and fell forty feet to the cobbles!
The moonish light shining on white mounds of lacre
Gave my surroundings a lustre like nacre.
Full fathom five, my peligin eyes did adduce,
‘Twas a miniature Zub, and eight tiny Lorn-Flukes!
The driver’s coat blazed such a blasphemous red,
‘Twas the holiday visitor whom all must dread!
Drake sways slightly. “Ah, too many ‘twases. I disqualify myself.” He takes his seat.
edited by Aberrant Eremite on 12/22/2018
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Hieronymus Drake: Gentleman scholar, big-game hunter, scar-faced aristocrat. Remarkably sane, all things considered.
Tanith Wyrmwood: Longshanks cat-burglar; Bohemian author; now, perhaps, something more. Bubbly, expressive, and affectionate. It’s not only still waters that run deep.
Telemachia Lee: Gentle lady by birth, brawling Docker by choice. Good company in the drunk tank.
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Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 770
12/24/2018
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Sapho laughs and claps with delight after Drake's performance. "You are not disqualified at all, sir! Indeed, I fear you may have already topped mine. And Jolanda, rarely have 13 words carried such weight. And professor, forgive me for commenting on your earlier verse so late," she continues, favoring him with a beaming and brilliant smile. "What flattery! I shall never ever tire of recalling those verses to mind!
But to my own offering:
God rest ye, Rubbery gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay
As you dance round yon column
On this Christmas day
And drink our ‘shroomy wine
To chase your woes away
O fungal wines of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O fungal wines of comfort and joy
In the Neath, in London,
The blessed ‘shrooms are grown
And laid within a ‘shroom press
To make a wine that 'tis our own.
Although by Surface sommeliers
They are held in scorn
They are fungal wines of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O fungal wines of comfort and joy
So Rubbery mother, father, son,
Or whate'er terms you speak for kin,
Raise a toast with us, dear friends
As we as choir do sing
In unison a song of joy:
OTHATHAROOTH-IIIIINNN!
O fungal wines of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O fungal wines of comfort and joy!"
--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
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Jolanda Swan
Posts: 1784
1/4/2019
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{OOC: Just make sure to inlude the 450 weasels in your closing remarks!}
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Lover of all things beautiful, secret admirer of ugly truths, fond of the Parabola Sun... and always delighted to role play.
http://fallenlondon.com/profile/Jolanda%20Swan
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Jolanda Swan
Posts: 1784
12/12/2018
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Jolanda shows up covered head to toe in a velvet cape. her salt weasel is wrapped around her like a stole, and still she shivers a bit. "Ah, the cold! So glad to be inside!" She hands the hostesses her gift: a slim volume of Saphho's lyrical poetry, wrapped in raw silk. "Thank you for the invitation. A zee-salon, what a brilliant idea!"
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Lover of all things beautiful, secret admirer of ugly truths, fond of the Parabola Sun... and always delighted to role play.
http://fallenlondon.com/profile/Jolanda%20Swan
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Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 770
12/14/2018
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"There once was a Queen of a city
Who for her husband had pity
She was offered a deal
To help the man heal
But the bargain, turns out, was quite—
Ah … hmm … perhaps it is still too early for this type of versification."
--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
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Aberrant Eremite
Posts: 362
12/15/2018
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This may be a salon called for purposes of intellectual discussion, but that's no reason to neglect the social graces. Hieronymus Drake was raised to greet people properly even under artillery fire. It's quite a colorful group. Apart from Professor Kan and Ondine, he knows only the hostess personally.
“Phiri Ulfur. A pleasure to see you again. How is your cousin? I fear that I haven't spoken with her in too long.”
Another guest he knows by reputation. “Lady Sapho. I am delighted to meet you at last. Extraordinary as it is, it seems that what I've heard of your beauty and charm has not been exaggerated. I might add that your wit and kindness were praised just as highly.” His tone is warm and sincere, but he does not acknowledge the unspoken punch line of the lady’s poem.
A third guest he can help. He smiles at Maria. “As it happens, I do have some biteys,” he tells her. He pronounces her accidental neologism with confidence, his aristocratic accent wrapping it in an aura of legitimacy. Drake rummages around in his pockets. His suit is elegantly cut, but his constant demands for more pocket space cause his tailor nearly as much grief as his frequent need for repair of bullet-holes and bloodstains. Drake produces a few small wedges of real Surface cheese - “I have numerous Rat friends” - and several pieces of smoked and salted meat - “and keep a variety of beasts.” He nods to Mr. Oathes, who seems to share this enthusiasm. Within a minute or two, he has assembled an impromptu charcuterie plate.
“If I may?” Drake pours two wineglasses full of vodka, pairing a kipper with each. He hands a glass to Maria and raises the second in a toast. “As this is a Salon on the Zee - Rybka lubi popływać!” His pronunciation is clear enough, though his English accent is marked.
--
Hieronymus Drake: Gentleman scholar, big-game hunter, scar-faced aristocrat. Remarkably sane, all things considered.
Tanith Wyrmwood: Longshanks cat-burglar; Bohemian author; now, perhaps, something more. Bubbly, expressive, and affectionate. It’s not only still waters that run deep.
Telemachia Lee: Gentle lady by birth, brawling Docker by choice. Good company in the drunk tank.
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Jolanda Swan
Posts: 1784
12/16/2018
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"At the Salon," Jolanda echoed. "I believe, our hostess has some verses to share though? Or not yet?"
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Lover of all things beautiful, secret admirer of ugly truths, fond of the Parabola Sun... and always delighted to role play.
http://fallenlondon.com/profile/Jolanda%20Swan
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Honeyaddict
Posts: 501
12/12/2018
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August knocks on the door and as it opens, he is clad in his usual attire, but wearing a rather heavy dark overcoat on top of it. He is covered in Lacre that falls from the roof of the Neath like a snow storm on the Surface. "Terribly sorry about coming after saying I wouldn't. But I brought this!" He said cheerfully as he pulls out from under his coat a small bag of clear cut diamond, Ostentatious Ones, the bag itself is rather unassuming, but the inside is lined in Whisper-Satin. "I do hope I'm not too late to the party." He said with a cheerful smile as he walks in, taking off his overcoat and walks into the main hall with a jolly smile on his face. "Should I have brought wine and honey?" He said pondering aloud.
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Honeyaddict, Scarlet Saint, Paramount Presence
pleasure to meet you.
Has some ideas the Masters won't approve of like some items and establishing a Colony in Parabola.
I will accept most social interactions (not duping). I do enjoy role playing as well.
Have some possibly still active codes!
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Elaina Schill
Posts: 191
12/12/2018
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Phiri beams as her two guests filter in and graciously accepts their gifts. She directs them towards the refreshments table and discreetly flips through her notes again. The Pirate-Poet is actually smiling, and helps their guests settle into chairs and takes their coats. "Two people is better than none!" she whispers to Phiri, who snorts. Gifts! She could not believe that they had brought gifts! And such thoughtful ones too. She had seen the Poet eyeing the poetry(understandably) and the diamonds were just...incredible.
She returned to the sitting room and clasped her hands together, unsure of how to start the conversation. "So," she began. "Have any of you been to zee at all?"
--
Main, Phiri Ulfur, the Cunning Shadow. Their heart belongs to a Pirate-Poet across the Zee.
Alt Vermillion Liminate, the Tragic Scholar.
Alt #2,Lady Jacqueline Blackwood, the Savage Beauty.
Alt #3, Veracity Taylor, the Dame of the Docks.
The Dogged Seeker, self explanatory.
I will accept any social actions on Fallen London(unless its a box of live rats. I already got rid of the d---ned things once and am not eager to repeat the endeavor).
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Honeyaddict
Posts: 501
12/12/2018
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August waved at Maria as she came in, albeit fashionably late. "The Zee... Yes I've been there, sailed in every direction, North, South, East and West. A place of beauty and a place of terror at the same time." He mused softly. "I used to frequent the route to the Court of the Wakeful Eye lately." He said sparking life into the conversation.
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Honeyaddict, Scarlet Saint, Paramount Presence
pleasure to meet you.
Has some ideas the Masters won't approve of like some items and establishing a Colony in Parabola.
I will accept most social interactions (not duping). I do enjoy role playing as well.
Have some possibly still active codes!
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Lord Gazter
Posts: 665
12/12/2018
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A black landua rolls to a stop outside the premises, and a well dressed gentleman steps out of it. The gentleman examines the shell and looks to his driver with raised eyebrow. The driver merely nods and rubs his gloved hands together to give them some much needed warmth. The gentleman adjusts his spectacles and walks up to the door knocking on it with a gloved hand.
"I'm Lord Barnabas Gazter. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," the gentleman says introducing himself with a smile on his lips.
edited by Lord Gazter on 12/12/2018
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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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Jolanda Swan
Posts: 1784
12/13/2018
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"Oh, I am very bad at being fashionably late," Jolanda laughs. "but if our hosts want, I can take a walk around the block and return!"
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Lover of all things beautiful, secret admirer of ugly truths, fond of the Parabola Sun... and always delighted to role play.
http://fallenlondon.com/profile/Jolanda%20Swan
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
12/22/2018
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Sian stood and bowed elaborately at Lady Byron.
“Beware, my boy, of a silken tongue
And a smile as smooth as the Zee,
For though she glow like the Whithern snow,
Yet the sharper wit has she.
“Beware, my lad, of a slender hand
And eyes that sparkle with glee,
For if those eyes make you their prize,
It is far too late to flee.
“Beware, my son, of a crimson frock
If it on a poetess be,
For should you test whose wit’s the best,
The joke shall be on thee!”
It was, perhaps, not his usual style, but one does what one must in a pinch.
“La!” Ondine cried in mock despair. “They have begun composing extempore! Swiftly, protect the innocent!”
edited by Siankan on 12/22/2018
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
12/24/2018
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[OOC: So this is long. My apologies.]
Looking over his verse-covered handkerchief, Sian knew, quite clearly, that he had taken his last drink of the night. Not that he had hit his capacity—he could drink a zailor under the table at need—but he liked his words to ask permission before leaving his mind. Some of these, he suspected, had snuck through without bothering.
"Queen Phiri sent her Rubbery Men
Out on the Zee one day.
They zailed into the dark to find
A Pirate made of Clay.
“The Pirate found the minions first
And with a heart of stone—”
—“The heart’s not stone,” the Pirate-Poet growled. Sian smiled and continued.
“And with a heart of stone
Tumbled all the minions back
Unto the Amber Throne.
“And who would hunt for me with such
A Rubber-hearted crew?
I’ll hunt for her, and then she’ll learn
Just what the Clay can do.’
“Queen Phiri called her friends around
This terrible threat to meet.
A noble Swan swept down and sat
Upon her garden seat.
“She told the Queen the threat was grave
And counseled her to find
A brave, stout-hearted champion
Of alcoholic kind.
“A lovely Pole with eyes of blue
Promised to make her free.
She knew of Water strong enough
To move the Unterzee!
“Just spill this little Water out
To stop the largest ship.’
A Dragon helped her pour the stuff.
The waves they danced and skipped.
“The Pirate fought the rising tide
That swirled across the Zee.
It stopped the Khan’s entire fleet.
It stopped her ship—but see!
“Still charging through the lashing waves
The angry Pirate strode.
Her verses part the peligin,
The waves obey an ode.
“The Dragon then came soaring down
And bearing through the air
A Sky-Man and a Water-Sprite
And beautiful St. Clare.
“That maiden brought her holy light
Into the darkened Zee.
From Varchas to the Frostfound ice
It lit the isles—but see!
“Still on and on the Pirate comes,
Her hand shading her eyes.
Still on and on, like beating drums,
Still bent upon her prize.
“Queen Phiri’s counselors, they sat
This troubling sight to see.
Could nothing hold this Pirate back?
Could nothing stop the Zee?
“Mercuric one and Grecian wit,
And Barney come from Hell
And all the Rubbery generals
Who clambered from the well
“Were all in black despair to see
The livid Pirate come,
And none could hope to stop her now—
There wasn’t any rum.
“Then came an August gentleman,
At once upon a time,
Who came to save the wurbled Queen
And e’en, perhaps, my rhyme.
“A Giant brave he brought with him,
Though made of broken parts,
And this he set to move the world
By his most August arts.
“The Giant waded in the Zee
To catch the Pirate hot.
The Zee it boiled and broke and burned
As on and on they fought.
“‘He’s stopped her!’ ‘Yes!’ ‘Oh, no! What now?’
The Zee began to shake.
Their fury knocked New Newgate down;
Their grapples caused a quake.
“And now the Queen was greatly feared
That, Pirate yea or nay,
These titans would destroy the Neath,
The cavern roof give way.
“‘Oh now, my friends, what shall we do
These mighty foes to part?’
None knew; it was a task beyond
Even the August art.
“Then out there stepped a grey-eyed man
From Osborne’s gentle shore.
He bore a purple bottled drink
And brought it to the fore.
“‘O Phiri Queen,’ the gentle said,
‘I know I may be small,
But with my trusty ‘68
I will outdo them all.’
“There was a Prophet there who scoffed;
The Man of Roles laughed, too.
For with a Giant fought to ground,
What could a mushroom do?
“But Phiri Queen was desperate;
She gave the man his way.
And so the Osborne gentleman
Stepped out into the fray.
“The Sky-Man helped him pop the cork.
He chose him five smooth shot
And sent them out into the Zee
Where battle still raged hot.
“But now down came the Pirate’s fist.
The tow’ring Giant broke.
The purple shots continued on
And disappeared in smoke.
“From this emerged the Pirate, yet—
What’s this? The Pirate grins.
‘If you have any more of that,
I beg you, let’s be friends.’
“Now wurble we a carol high
As round the pole we go.
For ancient foes now sit at peace
And drink amid the snow.
“O come, my friends, and gather round
And learn this moral great:
Not all the drinks on land or Zee
Can match the ‘68!”
The hat did not approve. Sian didn't care--but he could use some tea.
edited by Siankan on 12/24/2018
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Jolanda Swan
Posts: 1784
12/23/2018
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"Poetry is by no means my strong suit but... I will try my hand. Though I will shamelessly cheat, by making it a haiku."
The Lorn Fluke star sings
To the Children who listen
Amber tears fall
"Well, I am sure I got the syllables right."
--
Lover of all things beautiful, secret admirer of ugly truths, fond of the Parabola Sun... and always delighted to role play.
http://fallenlondon.com/profile/Jolanda%20Swan
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
12/22/2018
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Sian, who had closed his eyes in concentration, opened them momentarily. "If only Tanith were here. I shall delight in telling her about it."
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Aberrant Eremite
Posts: 362
12/22/2018
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Drake's visible eye flared with alarm. "Oh no, you mustn't! If she ever suspects that I have a sense of humour, I'll be done for."
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Hieronymus Drake: Gentleman scholar, big-game hunter, scar-faced aristocrat. Remarkably sane, all things considered.
Tanith Wyrmwood: Longshanks cat-burglar; Bohemian author; now, perhaps, something more. Bubbly, expressive, and affectionate. It’s not only still waters that run deep.
Telemachia Lee: Gentle lady by birth, brawling Docker by choice. Good company in the drunk tank.
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Elaina Schill
Posts: 191
12/28/2018
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(OOC: Sorry it's been so long! I'll try to reply more regularly, though it's nice to see my salon going on without me!)
Phiri claps enthusiastically, her eyes as bright as a schoolgirl's. "Bravissimo, my good sir! Please, if you can remember it, I'd love a copy to hang on my wall!"
The Poet grins abashedly. "I guess I can leave now, seeing as there are so many poets in attendance." She makes to rise, jokingly, but Phiri pulls her back down onto the seat.
--
Main, Phiri Ulfur, the Cunning Shadow. Their heart belongs to a Pirate-Poet across the Zee.
Alt Vermillion Liminate, the Tragic Scholar.
Alt #2,Lady Jacqueline Blackwood, the Savage Beauty.
Alt #3, Veracity Taylor, the Dame of the Docks.
The Dogged Seeker, self explanatory.
I will accept any social actions on Fallen London(unless its a box of live rats. I already got rid of the d---ned things once and am not eager to repeat the endeavor).
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
12/28/2018
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Sian bows magnificently to his hostess. "No copy, madame, but the thing itself." He presents her with the ink-covered handkerchief.
Meanwhile Ondine, knowing her employer well and not without her own sense of humor, has filled a wineglass with stout tea. Sian raises it to his hostess and to Lady Sapho. Then, smiling (with just a bit of mischief), proposes a toast "to an excellent hostess, and a wonderful company" and drains the glass.
Surface tea. Thank God.
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
1/1/2019
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[OOC: We need to talk about an exit strategy. The down times between bursts of activity have been getting longer, and while it's been remarkably fun, for that very reason I don't want to see the story peter out by inaction. It deserves a good end.
Thought 1: Phiri makes some concluding statements, thanks everyone for coming, ushers us all out. if we want to make some individual remarks on the way out the door, we can.
Thought 2: We set a period (2-3 days?) in which everyone has a chance to take their leave of the company. At the end of that time, our hostess graciously sees any stragglers to the door.
This is of course assuming that we are ready for the salon to end. If we want to keep going, by all means forge ahead. Even in that case, however, it is worth thinking now about how and when we want this all to end.]
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Jeremiah Oathes
Posts: 73
1/2/2019
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Siankan wrote:
[OOC: We need to talk about an exit strategy. [...]
[OOC: A very reasonable suggestion. Every Salon needs to end at some time, so a next salon can take place. I for one are very interested in regular Salons of varying topics. I wasn't very active in the last days becaus of the holidays and since English isn't my first language, writing a somewhat smooth post takes a little time. So, in general, when this Salon eventually comes to an end, I would be very interested in doing this again.]
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Dr Jeremiah Oathes - Natural Philosopher, Alchemist and Anatomist (part-time). Occasionally in Service to the Crown and the Bazaar. Would like to dissect a Master (for science and mad laughter).
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Jolanda Swan
Posts: 1784
1/2/2019
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{OOC: With the holidays, delays were normal. I am fine with assuming that we went on like that till the morning, and then Phiri can give her PoV as she ushers the last guest out!)
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Lover of all things beautiful, secret admirer of ugly truths, fond of the Parabola Sun... and always delighted to role play.
http://fallenlondon.com/profile/Jolanda%20Swan
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Honeyaddict
Posts: 501
1/2/2019
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[OOC: that sounds very reasonable, I'm sorry for my silence on this section, I'm quite terrible at poetry ^^; Let's have Phiri usher us out!]
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Honeyaddict, Scarlet Saint, Paramount Presence
pleasure to meet you.
Has some ideas the Masters won't approve of like some items and establishing a Colony in Parabola.
I will accept most social interactions (not duping). I do enjoy role playing as well.
Have some possibly still active codes!
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Elaina Schill
Posts: 191
1/3/2019
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(OOC: And here I was trying to come up with this all by myself and I found it's been done for me! I can have Phiri give some ending remarks, as Siakan suggested, and if there is closings to be given by any other characters, then they can come after and let the salon close on its own.)
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Main, Phiri Ulfur, the Cunning Shadow. Their heart belongs to a Pirate-Poet across the Zee.
Alt Vermillion Liminate, the Tragic Scholar.
Alt #2,Lady Jacqueline Blackwood, the Savage Beauty.
Alt #3, Veracity Taylor, the Dame of the Docks.
The Dogged Seeker, self explanatory.
I will accept any social actions on Fallen London(unless its a box of live rats. I already got rid of the d---ned things once and am not eager to repeat the endeavor).
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Jolanda Swan
Posts: 1784
12/22/2018
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Jolanda laughs and covers her mouth with gloved hands. "Oh, both of these were delightful! Is it too much to request a rematch, not for competition but for the pleasure of more verse?"
--
Lover of all things beautiful, secret admirer of ugly truths, fond of the Parabola Sun... and always delighted to role play.
http://fallenlondon.com/profile/Jolanda%20Swan
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Honeyaddict
Posts: 501
12/22/2018
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"Oh my, both of you are quite skilled indeed, what a delightful display!" August said with a smile. "I do admit I'm quite bad with inventing verses on the spot, but I stand with Jolanda's point, we need a rematch between the two of you!"
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Honeyaddict, Scarlet Saint, Paramount Presence
pleasure to meet you.
Has some ideas the Masters won't approve of like some items and establishing a Colony in Parabola.
I will accept most social interactions (not duping). I do enjoy role playing as well.
Have some possibly still active codes!
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
12/22/2018
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"Well," said Ondine brightly, "That is a picture. I shall love to see what our poets come up with."
She placed the half-finished bottle of '68 on a table. "My loves, you have until we finish this bottle to complete your pieces. No doubt by then we shall all be in a wonderful mood to receive them. August, dear, could you pour me a glass?"
"Ah, poets first, I think!" interrupted Sian. "It is only appropriate that the competitors share a glass before they begin." He filled a new glass (Phiri will be having a great deal to wash, he was afraid), sipped from it, and then passed it to Lady Sapho.
edited by Siankan on 12/22/2018
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
12/22/2018
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"You know," said Ondine, "there's really nothing to stop any of the rest of us from joining in the fun." She nodded at the Pirate-Poet, but her eyes were looking at Drake.
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Elaina Schill
Posts: 191
1/7/2019
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Phiri pulls out her pocket-watch and gasps when she sees the time. "Oh for--I deeply apologize, everyone, but I really must bring this to a conclusion. It's been lovely, and I am delighted that you all showed up!" She stands, and pulls the Poet up with her, giving the Clay Corsair a pointed look. "Oh, yes, um, it was interesting to hear all your poetry and I am grateful for your amicable company," the Poet says, a mite flustered. Phiri glances to her watch again and begins to gather the half empty (and completely empty) bottles from around the room, offering those worth keeping to her guests. "I really do wish I could keep you longer, but I have an appointment with an associate of mine who is taking care of, ah, an inordinate number of weasels I have come into ownership of." As she leaves to take the bottles to the pantry, the Poet gives a loud stage whisper. "She's lying. She's had the weasels for at least five months. Four hundred and fifty of the d---ed things! And she refused to sell even one of them!" As she finishes, Phiri walks back into the room and gives a mock gasp, smacking the Poet's unyielding shoulder as she chuckles.
She retrieves the guests' coats and various belongings. "Thank you again for coming. I do hope we may do this again soon!"
(OOC: This went over better than I ever thought it could! Thank you so much for participating, everyone!)
edited by Iona Dre'emt on 1/7/2019
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Main, Phiri Ulfur, the Cunning Shadow. Their heart belongs to a Pirate-Poet across the Zee.
Alt Vermillion Liminate, the Tragic Scholar.
Alt #2,Lady Jacqueline Blackwood, the Savage Beauty.
Alt #3, Veracity Taylor, the Dame of the Docks.
The Dogged Seeker, self explanatory.
I will accept any social actions on Fallen London(unless its a box of live rats. I already got rid of the d---ned things once and am not eager to repeat the endeavor).
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
1/7/2019
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Ondine took Phiri's hand in hers, kissing her cheek in the French fashion. "Thank you, darling. It was a wonderful salon. You will come visit me, now, won't you?"
The Professor, meanwhile, was unobtrusively collecting empty glasses and plates.
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 770
1/7/2019
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Lady Byron drops a deep curtsy to Phiri and then to the poet. "Ms Ulfur, thank you for a such a splendid evening! I do hope our paths will cross again and again! And," she continues, turning to the Pirate Poet, "it has been an honor to meet you face to face, I look forward, as ever, to your next work. Fare you both well!"
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http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
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Osborn Draiss
Posts: 16
1/8/2019
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Osborn stands up. "This was thoroughly enjoyable Miss Phiri! I do hope you put on another similar meeting in the future. Maybe next time I'll have some poetry prepared, although I bear no responsibility for bleeding ears that are sure to follow."
Osborn opens the door and steps out. "Thanks for having me," he calls over his shoulder, "It was a blast."
--
Osborn Draiss, a bumbling idiot who doesn't know what he's doing.
If you, for some unknowable reason, want to contact me, you can find me at https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Osborn%20Draiss. I am always interested in new friends.
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Honeyaddict
Posts: 501
1/8/2019
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August raises from his seat and looks around as most people are also getting ready to leave, he gives the men a handshake and the ladies a kiss on their hand to say his goodbyes. "Miss Ulfur, it was a delight to attend to your salon, hopefully you will organize another one in the future!" He proclaimed and looked at the Pirate-Poet "and miss Poet, it was a pleasure to hear your poetry, I do hope you succeed in helping more Clay, and in acquiring the rights Clay deserves." He said before popping on his overcoat again and leaving into the Lacred night.
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Honeyaddict, Scarlet Saint, Paramount Presence
pleasure to meet you.
Has some ideas the Masters won't approve of like some items and establishing a Colony in Parabola.
I will accept most social interactions (not duping). I do enjoy role playing as well.
Have some possibly still active codes!
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Jeremiah Oathes
Posts: 73
1/9/2019
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Mr Oathes laughs aloud and and fetches Mr Kitten from under the curtains.
"Thank you very much, Ms Ulfur. I truly appreciate your sense of hospitality and culture. And I thank everyone for the good companionship. This Salon was deeply inspiring. Maybe I should incorporate some poetry into my research. In one form or another..." He implies a kiss on Ms Ulfurs hand, bows and turns around.
"I hope we will all meet again very soon! And, dear Poet, please don't do anything to someone that you wouldn't want to have done to yourself."
After making his farewells to everyone, he stuffs the kitten under his coat and leaves. A few minutes later there is a loud ruckus as his rabid stallions drag the the carriage away from the lovely abode (and towards the sonic barrier). The screams fade away and only the sound of waves breaking at the shore remains.
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Dr Jeremiah Oathes - Natural Philosopher, Alchemist and Anatomist (part-time). Occasionally in Service to the Crown and the Bazaar. Would like to dissect a Master (for science and mad laughter).
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
12/13/2018
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Sian pulls out a golden pocketwatch. "It is only eight forty-five. The invitation did say 'arrival times eight to eleven,' did it not?"
Ondine laughs. "I may be guilty of fashion, love, but late... late is docking at Apis Meet when the Tree is already in leaf. Or losing them." She takes a bite of fungal scone.
edited by Siankan on 12/13/2018
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Rysiek
Posts: 693
12/13/2018
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Maria looks around guiltily "Sorry." she mutters "I.... I was blocked off. Was held up in the store. And then that man with carriage blocked my way." she mutters, shaking her head "As to the Zee.... I have no idea with sailing. Lived far away from it, in midland. Only boat I was on took me over the channel. Though, I stilll need to test the boat I got. Anyone have a sailing manual?" she smiles "Also, I am Maria Konstantynopolska. Hopefully a Doctor soon." she adds "You can call me Maria. That IS pronouncable, right, Jolanda?" she bites her lip, shaking her head "Also, if you don't want the bottle, I can either give it to the host or we could open it. Say, does anyone have some lard and garlic? You need.... biteys. For drinking. Not to get drunk quick."
edited by Rysiek on 12/13/2018
--
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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Honeyaddict
Posts: 501
12/13/2018
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August shrugged. "I simply came as fast as I could, and Doctor, while your watch looks beautiful it may need some adjustment to the time down here." He looked at the other guests, he wondered if more would come. With hope he looked at the Clay Pirate Poet, wondering what she would like to speak about. "Don't worry about the bottle, it's a good one. I do suggest we all take a glass to help the conversation as social lubricant." He offered with a smile, "if you would all kindly wait I shall return momentarily with a bottle of Broken Giant and some Cherries and food. That is if our Hostess would allow that, it would be rude of me to leave for a moment to return later." He offered with a smile.
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Honeyaddict, Scarlet Saint, Paramount Presence
pleasure to meet you.
Has some ideas the Masters won't approve of like some items and establishing a Colony in Parabola.
I will accept most social interactions (not duping). I do enjoy role playing as well.
Have some possibly still active codes!
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Elaina Schill
Posts: 191
12/13/2018
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Phiri quickly distributed drinks as the Poet began a tirade on the evils of the King with a Hundred Hearts and the Masters. "We're people too!" she said, nearly shouting. Phiri smiled nervously. "Why should our creation and our strength damn us to a life of forced servitude? Out on the zee--" she paused as Phiri frantically motioned for her to lower her voice a tad. "Out on the zee, your name doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if you're clay or flesh. The zee will kill you all the same." She took a long false-breath.
"I know some of my brethren find comfort in their bonds. I did too, once. Sometimes I even miss it. It was a simpler time, choices made for me. But that does not give anyone the right to make that decision for us!" The Poet jabbed her fist in the air as though she was rallying a protest instead of speaking to a few shaken guests. She suddenly realized this and lowered her hand sheepishly before nodding to the guests. "That's what the zee is to me."
"Any questions?" Phiri squeaked after a short silence. She knew this would happen and she appreciated the Poet's passion, but she held rallies all the time. Phiri wanted a conversation for once!
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Main, Phiri Ulfur, the Cunning Shadow. Their heart belongs to a Pirate-Poet across the Zee.
Alt Vermillion Liminate, the Tragic Scholar.
Alt #2,Lady Jacqueline Blackwood, the Savage Beauty.
Alt #3, Veracity Taylor, the Dame of the Docks.
The Dogged Seeker, self explanatory.
I will accept any social actions on Fallen London(unless its a box of live rats. I already got rid of the d---ned things once and am not eager to repeat the endeavor).
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Jeremiah Oathes
Posts: 73
12/13/2018
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"Oh, if you would excuse me for a moment? I forgot something most important! Again.", Mr Oathes remarks and hurries out to the front door, only to return a moment later with a hefty tome, wrapped in decorative ribbon.
"I am so sorry, please forgive my manners. It's been a while since I had a good night's sleep. Please, Ms Ulfur, accept this fine and concise selection of tomb-colonial short-stories. I've acquired it only recently on a... ahm... business trip in Venderbright." he explains sighing, handing it over to her, then quietly sitting down again.
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Dr Jeremiah Oathes - Natural Philosopher, Alchemist and Anatomist (part-time). Occasionally in Service to the Crown and the Bazaar. Would like to dissect a Master (for science and mad laughter).
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Honeyaddict
Posts: 501
12/13/2018
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"Ah yes, while I certainly am pro-Clay rights, I must point out that even when given the choice, most Claymen Finished and Unfinished chose to work with their choices made for them. Certainly, all Clay deserves a chance at living life with choices made for and one by them." He said, seeing her passion for this discussion and he loved seeing people talk with passion. "The Zee is a place where choices both are made by and for Captain and Crew alike, the Zee doesn't differentiate between rich, poor, Clay, Rubbery, Flesh, Wax, Lacre, anything! It punishes or rewards any who zail it in it's own way." He said, trying to rekindle the fierce discussion and trying to pull the others in it as well. Soon enough he was sure that the small flame of conversation could be seen as a veritable wildfire. "The only things I have yet to see with my own eyes and what I desire is to see the monsters of the bottom of the Zee! Explore the vast darkness." He pointed to the roof and to a mirror. "And I wish to reclaim our right to stand in Sunlight again without being burnt. I know of an Island in the Zee where the Sun shines." He said, being too swept up by the passion that he began talking about his own passion.
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Honeyaddict, Scarlet Saint, Paramount Presence
pleasure to meet you.
Has some ideas the Masters won't approve of like some items and establishing a Colony in Parabola.
I will accept most social interactions (not duping). I do enjoy role playing as well.
Have some possibly still active codes!
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Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 770
12/13/2018
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A flash of red!
Has Mr Sacks joined the salon?
Perhaps not. Close observes will note that the new arrival is dressed in a rather low-cut crimson gown trimmed in white fur, not an Incarnadine Robe; is of considerably shorter stature and more feminine from than London’s most famous seasonal visitor; and wears a scent that is almost the exact opposite of lacre.
Lady Sapho Byron beams a radiantly Confident Smile about the assembly (with a special nod for Ms. Swan) and to the delightful hostess she presents a filled zee-zhell honey jar carved into the likeness of a zailing vessel.
“My dear Ms Ulfur, thank you for hosting such an exceptional salon! Clay, Flesh, and the Zee is such an exhilarating combination!”
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http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
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Jolanda Swan
Posts: 1784
12/13/2018
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"I see we all have a reason to love the zee, no matter how much it takes every time," Jolanda comments. "Freedom. The Aestival Sun. Well, mine would be roses. Sun and roses. Bute before we get there, may I ask our hostess if she has found much support for her campaign in London? I know any talk of more rights sets certain people on edge."
--
Lover of all things beautiful, secret admirer of ugly truths, fond of the Parabola Sun... and always delighted to role play.
http://fallenlondon.com/profile/Jolanda%20Swan
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Rysiek
Posts: 693
12/13/2018
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Maria tilts her head "Well, uhm.... what to say about Clay.... clay is a material for mugs?" she offers, shaking her head "Silly me! Golems! Right, uhm, I am opening up to them!" she says "You see, it was like a story I read at first, of the Rabbi, and the Golem who almost killed Prague..." she claims "But, I am most scared of them." she smiles "As to the zee, the only thing I remember is the festival of the zee." she shakes her head "I suppose I am not the adventurous sort, really." she adds, waving towards Sapho as she sees her
--
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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Honeyaddict
Posts: 501
12/13/2018
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August looked rather shocked and quite happy to see Lady Sapho Byron had arrived, if she was here it meant this salon, even with few attendees would become the talk of the week, if not Month! He greeted her with a bow of the head. "Ah yes the Festival, a wondrous Zee Festival! However I prefer the Festival of the Rose and our current Neathmas." He said cheerily, before turning the conversation back to Clay rights. "Ah yes, supporters for once's cause is a most difficult thing to obtain down here." He said pondering. "But the cause that is proposed is certainly a good one with good argumentation. One worth flocking to." He said with a smile as he sipped from his glass and eyed the Honey jar, it was magnificent craftsmanship. "In the Empire I shall create either somewhere on the Zee or in Parabola, or in both... I shall make sure Clays will have the right to decide whether they want to decide or not." He promised them.
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Honeyaddict, Scarlet Saint, Paramount Presence
pleasure to meet you.
Has some ideas the Masters won't approve of like some items and establishing a Colony in Parabola.
I will accept most social interactions (not duping). I do enjoy role playing as well.
Have some possibly still active codes!
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Jeremiah Oathes
Posts: 73
12/13/2018
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"I myself have some Clay Men working at my warehouses at the docks." Mr Oathes remarks, taking a sip from his glass of wine.
"Of course I hired them because of their exceptional strength and superb discipline. And of course I pay them the exact same wage as the other workers that I employ. Most of them don't seem to know what to do with all that money, but that isn't my fault, is it?"
He leans over, looking at August. "If I understand correctly, dear Mr August, you plan to try your hand in state founding? Isn't that a field highly competitive? You must be exceptionally wealthy and well connected. Or alternatively mercilessly idealistic. And who shall be the citizens of your Empire?"
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Dr Jeremiah Oathes - Natural Philosopher, Alchemist and Anatomist (part-time). Occasionally in Service to the Crown and the Bazaar. Would like to dissect a Master (for science and mad laughter).
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Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 770
12/13/2018
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Lady Byron drops a tiny curtsy to Ms. Konstantynopolska and Mr. August before obtaining a glass of Broken Giant and a seat near Ms. Swan.
"I must admit to being torn between discoursing on Clay rights--a natural subject for such a salon," she observes, flicking her eyes to the Poet, "and a matter of some little discussion in certain circles of London of late--and state founding: a subject that is ever of great interest."
edited by Lady Sapho Byron on 12/13/2018
--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
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Azothi
Posts: 586
12/13/2018
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From outside, there came a knock at the door, echoing through the fluted vaults above the low, quiet resonance of the ambiance. The rapping folded in on its own echo, manifold layers of the Knock left hanging, dimly burning, in the hollow cavities of the zhell. Perhaps this was not altogether appropriate for a casual salon, but memories of the Cavity are not idly forgotten, etched deeper than even irrigo can cleanse.
Azoth didn't wait for a response. This was the address, she knew, and she recognized the sounds of conversation within.
A wave of warmth fled into the cold winter air as she stepped inside, shutting the door gently. She gave a curt nod to their host before taking a seat cross-legged on the floor. She'd brought no gifts, only a violin - symposiums tended to become more interesting with a touch of music, she thought. Her left glove found its way into one of her thousands of pockets. Her right arm was cold as stone, mottled grey. Frost had accumulated along the veined cuts - Azoth swept it aside without a second glance. The discordance of this commingling no longer bothered her as it once did - she was content to allow it its natural color.
"No drink for now," she said, waiting for the conversation.
--
Azoth I, the Emissary of Cardinals - A Paramount Presence (not currently accepting new Proteges)
Away to where the Chain cannot bind us.
 Hesperidean.
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
12/14/2018
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Professor Kan had so far merely listened, intently, to the conversation, although he did nod smilingly toward each new arrival and pass over the amuse-bouches. Now, however, he leaned forward toward the Pirate-Poet.
"I do have one question for you, if it is not impertinent. You spoke rather harshly just now of the King with a Hundred Hearts. However, it seemed you spoke of him more gently last we met, when you called him 'my King' and his dreams. Is there a reason for the change? After all, there is a sense--and again, forgive me if I am impertinent--where anything said about the King applies to the Clay Men, too."
edited by Siankan on 12/14/2018
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Osborn Draiss
Posts: 16
12/14/2018
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An alarmingly short man practically tumbles through the doorway. He runs a hand through his hair, sending a cloud of lacer flying in the process.
"Sorry for the intrusion, I hope I didn't interrupt anything too important. I am dreadfully late, no?" He blinks and takes a second to look around the room.
"Well! This is much more of an event than I thought it would be. I figured there wouldn't be many people interested in talking about clay men's rights. No offence, Miss Poet." He says, nodding at the Pirate-Poet.
He takes a moment to adjust his suit and close the door. It seems he rushed very quickly to get here, even at this late time. "Osborn Draiss." he said, nodding, "At your service. I apologize for my lateness, I had business that simply had to be attended to, no matter how much I wanted to be here."
He pulls out a purple wine bottle. "I figured bringing an exceptional vintage would make up for being so late, but it seems someone has out done me in that regard. I'm afraid that my First Sporing is no match for a bottle of Broken Giant."
Osborn seems of the opinion that he's interrupted something vital, and seems very embarrassed by it. Nevertheless, he pulls up a seat and sits down.
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Osborn Draiss, a bumbling idiot who doesn't know what he's doing.
If you, for some unknowable reason, want to contact me, you can find me at https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Osborn%20Draiss. I am always interested in new friends.
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
12/14/2018
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"Come and sit, friend!" Sian makes space on the divan, and passes Osborne a tray of fungal scones. A wine glass gets produced from somewhere as Osborn seats himself. "We were just discussing that very subject; I'd love to hear your opinion. Just give our esteemed guest speaker a moment to answer the latest question."
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 770
12/14/2018
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For the briefest of moments a furrow creases Lady Byron's elegant brow. It is bad enough for one person to be more fashionably late than she was. But two ... it is most vexatious. Still, one most overcome this sort of thing with grace and composure. She relaxes back in her chair and observes her evening's companions.
--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
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Jolanda Swan
Posts: 1784
12/14/2018
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Jolanda laughs, and pours Sapho some more Broken Giant wine. "I think that to matters of Clay rights, I stand with our hostess. And i Understand that dock work is only the beginning for most of them; there are so many other careers one can excel in, and they should all be open to whomever proves they can do a good job. But in matters of poetry, I will brave death to offer my critique. Apologies, but the muses won't allow anything else."
--
Lover of all things beautiful, secret admirer of ugly truths, fond of the Parabola Sun... and always delighted to role play.
http://fallenlondon.com/profile/Jolanda%20Swan
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Rysiek
Posts: 693
12/14/2018
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Maria sighs, shaking her head "Well, at least they do a better job as poets than as lawyers, Jolanda." she says, tilting her head "Also, does anyone have some tea? Never Acquired a taste for wine. And speaking of Tea, would there also be jam for the tea?" she requests, smiling "Still, back to my point about careers.... I somehow can't imagine a clay lawyer. Although, frankly, I suppose any lawyer would do better than his task than the one I got back in Warsaw." she mutters "Although, for the defense of that one, I didn't go to death Row, at least." she adds, shaking her head "Still, clay rights may need to go slowly. First menial tasks, and then maybe, People would consider Clay Men for... how to put it... more complicated tasks? I lack the word..."
--
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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Honeyaddict
Posts: 501
12/14/2018
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"Well, indeed, as Jolanda and our Hostess said the options to obtain whatever profession they desire should be open. I wonder how good a Canon a Clayman could be. And I'd love to read some poems, I do find your aversion of criticism both a bit sad and delightfully unorthodox!" August said as he inspected the iron sheet. "Criticism is the mother of all improvement, be it negative or positive!" He proclaimed bravely, willing to be stabbed a few times over for his proclamation. "But indeed, to avoid a revolution, the rights should be slowly accumulated, not at once by storm. Since that could lead to situations like the French Revolution or a failing version of it. I'd hate to see lives lost if it can be avoided."
He said as he took off his Parabola-Linen suit, in order to look inside his pockets of the Smock he wore under it and pulled out a small kettle. "What flavour of tea would you like Maria?"
At this point it was clear that the social lubricant known as wine had done it's job to help the conversations start up.
edited by Honeyaddict on 12/14/2018
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Honeyaddict, Scarlet Saint, Paramount Presence
pleasure to meet you.
Has some ideas the Masters won't approve of like some items and establishing a Colony in Parabola.
I will accept most social interactions (not duping). I do enjoy role playing as well.
Have some possibly still active codes!
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+1
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
12/14/2018
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Sian laughs as well, before turning seriously to his hostess. "My views on that subject are public knowledge, but I shall certainly restate them here. Anything that can think and feel as well as a human deserves the same standing and respect as a human. I don't care if it's a Clay Man or a Rubbery one, or for that matter a rat, cat, bat, or bird. Even, if you force me to admit it, a Master."
There was a moment's pause at that one. Even here, Master cracks might not be the safest remarks to make. If Sian noticed, he didn't seem to care.
"My staff include humans, Clay Men, Ratti faberi, cats, birds, articles of clothing, and an irritable tigress. Each are employed by their special talents, each have given me good service, and each have been remunerated accordingly. London would be poorer without them.
"It must be said, however, that in at least one sense, our argillaceous cousins are more like us than anyone else."
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 770
12/14/2018
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"Like the professor, my views on Clay Men--would not Clay People be a superior term?--are a matter of public record and in accord with the opinions expressed here. And I quite agree that any position should be open to one who possess the wherewithal to adopt it. But as to criticism ... if my work failed to generate any, I would count it an abject failure."
--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
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Rysiek
Posts: 693
12/14/2018
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(OOC: A correction, Honeyaddict, the character is called Maria. Also, important question: can Clay Men talk? I miex them up with Pratchett, and.... don't know anymore)
Maria shrugs "Well, I am not sure about terms. English.... well, not my language. I suppose in Polish we would stilll call them Golems... wonder what it means? Is it german?" she wonders, shaking her head "Before I go on a tangent. I, also, sadly have no staff. Not enough money." she adds, smiling at August "And well, do you have black tea? and some nice Jam?" she wonders, tilting her head "Either way, black tea, if I might."
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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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Jolanda Swan
Posts: 1784
12/13/2018
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"You have sailed beyond each corner, August?" asks Jolanda. "Do tell. I did make the journey to the East once... but after that I got scared for my crew. I suppose our hostess, the poet, has a lot of things to share, too."
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Lover of all things beautiful, secret admirer of ugly truths, fond of the Parabola Sun... and always delighted to role play.
http://fallenlondon.com/profile/Jolanda%20Swan
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
12/13/2018
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A sharp rap announced the next arrivals. "Professor Kan, pleasure to meet you," says the first to step inside. He dusts the lacre off his hat, which is tutting audibly. Dream-light glows from his waistcoat. Behind him comes a woman dressed in swirling apocyan. "This is my associate Ondine." She smiles brightly, offers August her hand. (“Charmed, darling.”) "And this," the Professor says, "is Hieronymus Drake, professor adventurer and captain of the Rostygold Stag." The tall and monocled third member of the party steps in, cradling a bottle of Surface wine. He presented it to the hostess with a bow.
Ondine, with a wink, slips her a smaller bottle, of something hot and red and Elder Continent—and almost certainly not for public consumption.
Professor Kan nods familiarly to the Pirate Poet before turning to the company general. “I am afraid our arrival has interrupted the conversation. Please, do continue.”
edited by Siankan on 12/14/2018
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Rysiek
Posts: 693
12/12/2018
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Maria runs in, in a cheap looking black leather longcoat, with a similarily inexpensive red suit underneath. As she storms through the door, she hands over a bottle "Wodka." she wheezes "Surface." she adds witha clipped tone, waving at Jolanda as she sees her "Now, see.... why are we talking about sightseeing? I mean, there are many sights in London, but all of us saw them, unless you mean the surface ones..." she pulls out her pamphlet, before facepalming "Zee. Right. English. So...." she looks around for a seat "I suppose it is the one down here? English still makes me confused, see?" she adds, in her heavy polish accent, smiling widely, before looking in her bag for more gifts "Wait... had more books somewhere..."
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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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Honeyaddict
Posts: 501
12/16/2018
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"I truly hope so, I heard she has some very beautiful verses, and some co-authored by our Guest Speaker, miss Pirate-Poet herself." August mused in with Jolanda.
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Honeyaddict, Scarlet Saint, Paramount Presence
pleasure to meet you.
Has some ideas the Masters won't approve of like some items and establishing a Colony in Parabola.
I will accept most social interactions (not duping). I do enjoy role playing as well.
Have some possibly still active codes!
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Elaina Schill
Posts: 191
12/17/2018
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Phiri coughs on the sip of tea she just took and turns several shades of beet. Only at the Poet's insistence does she scuttle off to scrounge up a few sheets of her poetry. She anxiously tries to find the least embarrassing verse, but eventually just picks one at random. The Poet nudges her gently forwards out of the foyer so she isn't hiding behind the wall.
Her voice is soft and fast as she starts off, occasionally looking to the Poet for reassurance.
"Megalops fall
With deafening wails
Bound-shark's cage
Shrieks with rage
All the beasts
Of the great dark zee
But all I see
Leaving shining trails
Are the tiny shells
Of the zee-beach znails."
Her face is burning by the end of it, and she hopes no one will ask for the next verse. Of course it had to be the zee-znail one! She gives a tiny shrug and only offers "I like znails" in explanation.
edited by Iona Dre'emt on 12/17/2018
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Main, Phiri Ulfur, the Cunning Shadow. Their heart belongs to a Pirate-Poet across the Zee.
Alt Vermillion Liminate, the Tragic Scholar.
Alt #2,Lady Jacqueline Blackwood, the Savage Beauty.
Alt #3, Veracity Taylor, the Dame of the Docks.
The Dogged Seeker, self explanatory.
I will accept any social actions on Fallen London(unless its a box of live rats. I already got rid of the d---ned things once and am not eager to repeat the endeavor).
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Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 770
12/17/2018
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An aside to Hieronymus Drake:
"Mr Drake, it is a delight to meet your august self at long last as well! I am not surprised that the first three virtues you attribute to me are widely discussed, I should have thought another would have taken the place of the fourth however."
To Phiri Ulfur:
"Oh how excellent! You've packed so much into so few words! And I am delighted by the contrast of giant, fearsome zee-sharks and tiny adorable zee-znails!"
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http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
12/19/2018
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"You'll have to pay me a visit sometime. come with me down to the Docks, and I'll show you what the underside of the Stolen River looks like."
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 770
12/22/2018
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Lady Byron raises a slender hand and her eyes look to the floor in deep concentration.
"Very well, then," she answers at last, over a sip of her wine.
"Peace Triolet
I’ll lay aside my lexical bludgeon
And you will set aside your scalpel.
To stop our dear friends’ dudgeon
I’ll lay aside my lexical bludgeon
And forgive thy definitional curmudgeon.
No more shall we linguistically grapple:
I’ll lay aside my lexical bludgeon
And you will set aside your scalpel."
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http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
12/16/2018
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Well, the vodka's open. Sian checked his exit lines again.
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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Siankan
Posts: 1048
12/15/2018
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"Oh, the '68 was a fine year for Greyfields, and its first sporing doubly so; in fact, if you'd be so kind..." He tipped a now-empty glass toward Osborn.
There did seem to be an awful lot of open bottles in the room, especially this time of morning. Only Maria's vodka had so far survived intact--which, given the salon's purposes, might be for the best. Alcohol, controversy, and strangers could be a dangerous mix. Also, one should not forget a touchy Clay Woman when one shared a room with her. Hmmm... He quietly rechecked exit lines for himself and his companions. There should be time enough to escape, should anything important be destroyed or catch fire.
Still, in defiance of the bottles the company remained genial and reasonably sober. He could afford himself another glass for kindness. So he smiled while Osborn refilled his wineglass with purple stuff. Two for silver.
"Regarding your statement, Mr. Draiss, you've made a good point. One must change minds, not merely create a legal veneer. That forces people to act on what they disbelieve, and that will simply cause trouble further down the road. On the other hand, there are quiet young men down in Spite who believe themselves entitled to the contents of my pockets, and it is the job of the Law to disabuse them of that notion. (Well, the Law and myself. I had to instruct one on the way over on the dangers of picking a pocket that had been to Polythreme.) The Law and the People must be changed together; neither can be done alone.
"That said, no serious change in Clay rights is going to come through the people of London, Lords or Commons. Have you ever attempted to free a Clay Man? It's easier to get souls out of the Brass Embassy. No, the place of Clay Men in our society is set first and foremost at the Bazaar, and that, my friends, is not going to be changed by any amount of action by the citizens of London."
"Unless someone kills Mr. Fires." This last, stage-whispered (perhaps unintentionally), had no obvious source. Its owner didn't seem eager to be identified after the fact.
This might, perhaps, be the wrong place to let the conversation pause. Ondine stepped into the gap. "You know, my friend," she said, turning to the Pirate-Poet, "you have given us much prose today, but not two words in verse. You wouldn't have any new numbers to share on the subject, would you?"
edited by Siankan on 12/15/2018
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Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
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