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The Cintamani Ball Messages in this topic - RSS

Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/15/2019
5:00: Guests begin to drift like lacre through the open doors of Cintamani House. Already the foyer is crowded with masks: satin and porcelain and metal, feathered or sequined or disconcertingly plain. Waiting revelers stand, or sit on blue velvet benches, or lean against the silvered tree-column in the middle of the room. (It has been hung with greenery. The origin is obscure, but it probably will not harm you.) Then the doors open, and the first revelers enter the room beyond.

Just inside the door is a tigress on a divan, wearing with apparent sufferance a scarlet domino of diapered satin. She puffs unconcernedly at her hookah, but the look she gives each new guest leaves no doubt as to her role in the Professor’s household.

The man himself waits to receive his guests in a foil mask; flames of bronze and brass and rostygold lick toward heaven. He wears a golden apple on his lapel, and a curious device at his neck, suspended by a Parabola-linen ribbon. Next to him stands a deep blue gown with a bombazine rosette. Her mask (one must suppose a her) is an elaborate Venetian affair, with flourishing scrollwork and a spray of feathers dipped in violant. It is an ensemble to remember.

Guests scatter through the room. Small knots of masks gather here and there (especially near the drinks). Others examine the dragon statue, or the Christmas ‘trees’ (made of carefully-arranged shelf fungi), or such artifacts as the professor had not removed for the evening. At one end of the great yellow hall, musicians have begun, quietly, to play.

[Don’t know what’s going on? Look here: https://community.failbettergames.com/topic27717-the-cintamani-ball-an-invitation-or-a-warning.aspx
Otherwise, do come in and enjoy some candied agaric. Don’t worry; they aren’t the poison kind.]

All right! Ladies and gentlemen, the doors are open. Don't forget your mask!
edited by Siankan on 12/15/2019

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+5 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/15/2019
A tiger growls. "Mask, then?"

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+2 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/15/2019
A tiger growls. "If you forgot your mask, I have a lovely number with pink fur for you."

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+2 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/15/2019
Sian pauses for a moment before the old man in the devil-mask, as a man does when trying to ascertain whether or not he was supposed to remember someone. After that moment, he apparently chose the better part of valor, and greeted him heartily but noncommittally. "Ah, how thoughtful of you," he says, accepting the Greyfields. A masked servant took the bottle to the drinks table.

When the old man capered off, the masked figure put her hand on his arm. "Darling, the dancing has not begun yet. The guests are just arriving. But will you have something to drink?" She led him over to a bottle of her acquaintance.

Meanwhile, Sian turned to a new arrival. "August! Delighted you could make it tonight. And I see you're still adventuresome with your drinks. Come in, come in!"
edited by Siankan on 12/15/2019

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+2 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/17/2019
the old man wrote:
"snakes snakes there's a reason I don't have honey and its to stay away from the snakes" the old man brings out his hunting rifle "if it comes within five feet of me I shoot the d--m thing

Low thunder rumbles from the divan. A slender man appears at the old one's side. Half of his mask is a young face, half is old; both halves are smiling. "Excuse me, sir. I am afraid that firearms are not allowed in the building this evening. If you will allow me, I will place it somewhere safe. We will return it to you when you leave." He gently, but firmly, puts one hand on the stock, one on the barrel.
edited by Siankan on 12/17/2019

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+2 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/15/2019
Sian is quick to interpose before the tiger had opportunity. "Ah, that will not be a problem. I have kept some of my collection on hand. Choose as you like." He gestures across the room, where a small selection of Visager masks are displayed on the wall. There is a Lion, a Moon-Moth, a Frog, and a Lotus.

Then he turns to Six. "Welcome back. I have friends and clients here tonight, but few who are both. I am glad to see you are well. And I should like to make better acquaintance with your friend."

After proper octopoid greetings have been exchanged, he turns to another new arrival. "And you, too, are welcome, friend. Thank you for the thoughtful gift." The Professor's associate has, by this point, returned, and she gives her greetings with a nod of the head. Violant wars for a few minutes with irrigo; neither wins, but most of the neighborhood develop headaches.
edited by Siankan on 12/15/2019

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+2 link
Aberrant Eremite
Aberrant Eremite
Posts: 362

12/17/2019
Captain Hieroymus Drake wears a dark frock coat tailored from thirsty bombazine with a matching waistcoat. However, he has departed from his usual conservatism in one regard: rather than pure white, his shirt and tie are ivory, a shade reminiscent of old bones. Over his suit he wears a mantle of Blue Prophet feathers, looming over his shoulders like a bank of stormclouds in the distance. Drake’s height and his rigidly perfect posture contribute to the forbidding aspect of his appearance. The heaviness of the effect, however, is leavened by the gleaming silver of the mantle’s broach, which depicts a pair of swallows in flight.

His mask is cunningly wrought from slate-grey metal in stark, vivid lines. It depicts the face of an angry old man, mouth open in a roar, beard rolling down in a flood of gnashing waves. The thick eyebrows tower like stormclouds above the wide, staring holes of the eyes.

At his side, the tall woman known as Dione of Argos is wearing a long evening gown reminiscent of her Greek heritage - a traditional Greek chiton, only equipped with sleeves in order to comply with the requirements of a London formal ball. The garment is woven from rippled whisper-silk in a color gradient from the dark grey of stormclouds at her shoulders to the white of sea-foam breaking just over the floor. The traditional wrap pinned on her right shoulder is made of some translucent apocyanic material, decorated in a Grecian pattern depicting the beasts of the seven seas. A silver laurel crown rests on her upswept midnight curls. A single curl, stubbornly refusing to stay in place, bounces off her shoulders and around her long silver earring.

Dione’s mask, compared to her companion’s dramatic visage, seems unspectacular, almost disappointingly plain. However, the monochromatic dark-grey mask reveals its secret when touched by the storm. Even a brush with Drake’s coat-sleeve is enough to discharge a brilliant shock of blue in the graphite sky. Dancing on the edge, branches of plasma fork through the mask and dazzle in an incandescent arc silently blustering. At the same time, the eyes of Drake’s mask flash with apocyanic lightning. And then, just as suddenly it appeared, Saint Elmo’s fire vanishes, leaving nothing but an Ocean heavy with clouds.



When Drake approaches his host, his posture relaxes, and he embraces Professor Kan like a brother. His voice, though made hollow and ringing by the mask, still comes out in a warm baritone. “Happy Christmas, old friend.”

--
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.
+2 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/17/2019
Balkis growls. You'd think the impertinent human would know better than to tease a tiger.

---

Sian takes a moment to straighten his jacket. Drake's embraces could wrinkle iron. Then he kisses Dione's hand. "Madame, delighted to see you again." "Extraordinary!" adds Ondine, who has come over to greet her, in the French fashion.

Alas, he could only spend a moment with these two, as other guests were arriving. The woman in the attar-eyed mask is new to him, but he gives her a hearty welcome and a glass of Surface wine. His old American protege receives a hug, an in-joke or two, and a glass of that mushroom vintage he'd admired last time he was over for dinner. Anyone else new? Ah, that woman in the purple-amber frock. "Welcome! Welcome! So glad you could come."

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+2 link
Ixc
Ixc
Posts: 439

12/18/2019
Ixc and Nora watch the snake debacle unfold. A gentleman being disarmed, another surreptitiously surveying the snake, and a lady fainting in good fashion. And then there was some woman in a lovely red dress that had only a tiny blood stain on it. And some strange gaps in his memory. “All that over a snake?” Nora says. Ixc nods. “I hope he didn’t acquire it... that way. And something else is going on here. You feel a little strange? Like having little jolts of numbness as you look at the crowd?”

“Now that you mention it...”

“Yes. Someone likes their colors.” Ixc follows his half forgotten routines. He reaches for a sketchbook from one of his pockets, and as a forgotten period of time passes, he looks down at a completed sketch of a woman in a dream-flax dress. He assigns a made-up name and story to remember, to counter the irrigo. “You know, we should start from the top.” Nora says. “Our host. I’m interested in how you get a snake down here, and they might know what’s going on.”

“As am I.” They weave through the crowd, until they find the professor in conversation. Nora waits until the Professor is finished to speak. “I was just asking my companion how you can find such a beautiful snake down here. He’s only heard some strange rumors, of course, so I was hoping you could satisfy my curiosity.”

--
Pleased to meet you. Ixc, spy and detective. Inventor of the Correspondence Cannon.
Are you a Paramount Presence? Record your name here. For posterity, of course.

Being poked incessantly by nightmares? Poke them back!
Vote the Viscountess for Mayor!
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Catherine Raymond
Catherine Raymond
Posts: 2769

12/18/2019
She curses herself silently. What a stupid idea to wear an irrigo-soaked dress to a party! she thinks. Just when she wanted to be seen, her very wardrobe makes it impossible!

Of course, she says to herself, I could go home and return wearing my Moderately-Cooperative Clothes Colony. That would make an impression! Yes, an impression liable to land me in New Newgate.

No, best to impress with personality alone. She approaches Professor Siankan again, vinous offering in hand. "Good evening, Professor! Good evening, all! Would anyone care to join me in a holiday toast with Greyfields' finest beverage?"

--
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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Lady Sapho Byron
Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 806

12/18/2019
"And now I must call upon your sleuthing abilities, Six, and yours as well, August. It's been claimed that there is at least one innocent at this party that must be protected from the likes of me (and you, for that matter). I'm rather dubious of that claim, but I should very much like to meet said person or persons if they are here. What can you discover?"
edited by Lady Sapho Byron on 12/18/2019

--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
+2 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/20/2019
"Jolanda!" Sian's mask hides his face, but some smiles are audible. "Splendid that you're here tonight! And in good time, too. There'll be dancing soon, but you've still time to fill out a dance card. Just remember to save a spot on it for me."

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+2 link
AbsolxGuardian
AbsolxGuardian
Posts: 79

1/23/2020
Shadowcthuhlu wrote:

Evensong's frowns, as she draws her hand. As dictated by kingdom rules, she must play the mirror as soon as she draws it. The rest of her cards: crown, coin, and tiger have their meanings altered and reversed as the rules dictate. What this means is is ambigious, leaving Envesong staring down at the mess in front of her.

"Have you ever been to the Iron Republic?"


A b____y Mirror! Why did she ever agree to kingdom rules? Mirrors don't just shake up the game, but the rules have decided to be ambiguous about what "reversed meanings" even entail for most of the cards. It was generally accepted that it meant that the Marchioness just discarded a card that could assist her. Now only the jester could help her, while the remaining adviser would only hurt.

The Marchioness responds to Evensong's question while her opponent tries to figure out how the rest of her turn would play out.

"I've never been there myself," the Marchioness made a point to finger her Brass Ring while she talked. "I don't partially want to go there, although business may soon send me that way. I've heard the most horrifying stories from there. The idea that natural laws could simply be made or unmade. That shouldn't be how things are. The Neath has its own laws, different from the Surface, but they are there none the less. And they're the same each day. But the idea that natural laws can be made by a being's decisions and the stroke of a pen like any other law..." The Spidery Marchioness breaks off.

"I can assure you most devils are not anarchists. Their ways may be strange to us and their nobility overthrown, but they can be known. In fact, they're quite similar to the French that way."

--
Guide to my characters
+2 link
Shadowcthuhlu
Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1560

2/18/2020
the old man wrote:



"of course, I've gone the full circle of old age where I frankly no longer care what people think, if things get to hot, well I am a tomb colonist, but I agree enough talk of old feuds and dead lovers. let us talk of new lovers if I may inquire how you two met, I've hardly encountered a finer couple in all my years, I'm sure the bazzar smiled when you two met."


(Now to get a bit more experimental with Dirae Erinyes talking and Evensong remembering. Also expect to see a lot of edits with me catching typos and all that. )


"It was at the Foreign office. I did a stint there, learning what I can before going on to zee. I fully recommend it's archives for learning about the elder continent." Dirae Erinyes explained, gesturing with their tiny mushroom fork.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Such people were an inevitable part of the job. Fresh faces not known to the game, with special skills that the Face and Teeth couldn't find between their members. Evensong wasn't impressed when she first heard of Dirae Erinyes. A bohemian author of gothic nonsense that was best read away from the prying eyes of good taste. Prone to flamboyant outbursts, and with a dueling record nearly as long as they were tall, Evensong wasn't sure what there was to work with.

Not to mention that a few careless Cousins of hers were added to the body count.

The first impression didn't help things. Not even with Dirae Erinyes easy smile behind those layers, putting forth down any illusion of a brooding author that lived their own work. Not only did they stink of wine, but they jostled and clunked. Much like the hunters from the Ministory of meances, that didn't bring up pleasant memories at all.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The first thing I noticed was her eyes." Dirae Erinyes bent down to stage whisper to the old man. "They are most striking ones I've seen down here. They are blue of the sky that breaks storm clouds. It's a blue you can never find down here." Evensong feels her cheeks blush with familiar embarrassment at the complament. "Shallow, I now. But as good of a reason to get to know someone, isn't it?"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It started with office pleasantries, with Dirae Erinyes always stopping by to greet and chat, and their relaxed nature did bring some life to the office. Then there were the notes on the reports Dirae Erinyes filed, handing them in with a lopsided smile. Notes that started as poetic observations of a bright patch of fungus, or the swirling of mists on the marshes, but grew into hypothetical questions. A stray flower caused the question of what blooms Evnesong most missed in the streets of London. A bout of violence asking about if she ever worried about osing to the boatman. (Evensong being a Cousin, knew she would never be offered chess). If the sight of young lovers, sharing a honey dream made her own heart nearly burst.

She shouldn't have answered the questions in her own notes on the next assignment. That went against policy. But she wanted to free those fluttering butterflies in her stomach.

Evensong couldn't figure if this was genuine questions or veiled threats, lettering her know that the Foreign Office's secrets had been breeched. A question that deepened with fruit basket that was delivered. Wax fruits, made in perfect ripe reproductions of the surface, tied with a bow during the Feast.
They could've been poisoned. She should've thrown it out, letting it melt in the fire. Instead she slipped a few grapes from an overflowing bunch into her mouth while filing, wondering if the real ones tasted nearly as good.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So we flirted on and off for a few months before it all came to ahead. Sometimes Evensong's bosses can be a bit careless when they send her out on deliveries. She had a bad encounter in the Spite, and came running to my house for help."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It had been more then bad. An orts possessed former agent of the Face had turned traitor. A hand off turned bad, leaving her on the run with a torn face.



Only the spite's indifference to monsters allowed her to run.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I thin she was worried I would just abandon her to her fate, but when have I worried about a few ruffians?"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They weren't a few ruffians. Evensong remembered the lean Presbyterate diplomat, flanked by two scarred and wiry hunters. She remembered their dogs, marsh hound mutts fed on blood and flesh of the fleeing.
But with a torn face, her options were limited. Most safe houses would be closed to avoid association that could doom them. As she limped to the door and hammered, she expected nothing as the barks grew closer.
She didn't expect the strong arm to pulled her in, and the thudding whimper that stopped at her shoulder. Not that they gave up easily. Evensong could hear clearly inside, and learned that those reports probably weren't exaggerated.

"And once a lady knows that you are willing to fight for her honor, well, she knows that she can trust you. In London, trust is more previous then jade and a wonderful fertilizer for love."
Evensong had thought about running. but she wasn't moving well. And by the time her head cleared of the shock of actually being inside away from her pursuers, with just a warm crackling fire to keep her company, Dirae Erinyes had finished their brutal work. Look at the lumbering bloodstained frame of her unexpectant savior, she wasn't sure what would come next. Threats, extortion or another attack?
It wasn't for Dirae Erinyes to clap their hands and apologize for being a terrible host. To disappear and bring back a meal. Some days she remembers the candles more clearly, exotic metamorphous candles from the Knife and candle. The rich honey they were dipped in, helping to numb the pain.


But at this dinner, she remembers the way they hovered, waiting to see her reaction. Her own shock, finally blurting out that this wasn't right.
First how Dirae Erinyes recognized her, calling her by name. The remains of that torn face wasn't her office face. It was the eyes, they sighed. Of course they knew her eyes. They let the silence hang after that remark.


Nobody played the Game like this. There should be demands, promises. A favor for a favor. When Evensong managed to sputter out that this wasn't right, proper words escaping her as the surrealist scene took hold, it only produced another apology.
It was unfair, Dirae Erinyes calmed, that they had seen Evensong's true face and not returned the favor.


A slow movement unraveled the cloth around their face. Evensong didn't know what to expect. A dangerous dash of sympathy had kept them from going further in the file, not wanting to know the secrets of their office friend. Not trusting the rumors.


The rumors weren't even half true, she learned in that instance. Not a tomb colonists, whose bodies broke and faded away. This being was nearly burst with life, energy humming through them, fighting against their stitches. Why they clanked like an overly armed hunter, as gears and pulleys whirled away on their neck.
They were like her, she realized in that moment. A castoff among the underworld of castoffs.
That was the moment she felt her heart fully slip from her fingers.



----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"And after that, well, that's just boring courtship isn't it? So, how is your wife this evening?"

edited by Shadowcthuhlu on 2/18/2020
edited by Shadowcthuhlu on 2/18/2020
edited by Shadowcthuhlu on 2/18/2020
edited by Shadowcthuhlu on 2/18/2020

--
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
+2 link
Six Handed Merchant
Six Handed Merchant
Posts: 155

12/15/2019
The Six Handed Merchant arrives in a red reform dress with green holly embroidery winding around the hems like festive garlands. Their red-and green carnival mask is covered with paper holly leaves, allowing their crimson eyes to shine out from behind the mask like two glittering holly berries.

But the most avant-garde feature of their ensemble is their hat. Ever the scandal monger, Six has adorned their wide-brimmed fedora with a bright-red octopus-like creature! The tentacled creature seems content to perch atop the hat, especially since it somehow acquired a glass of sherry at some point in its journey.

“Good afternoon.” Six curtseys politely to the tiger with their wide-legged bloomers, being careful not to spill the drink of their traveling companion. “My apologies, but Oscar refused to wear any of the masks I had at home. Perhaps you have a small one on hand that would fit him?”

.
.
edited by Six Handed Merchant on 12/15/2019

--
The Six Handed Merchant: If it's the truth you seek, The Six Handed Merchant is the gentlemen-, er, lady-, er, detective you need! Just pay no heed to that Eradication Officer tailing Six: that poor fellow is simply out of his mind!

Six's Mantlepiece (I am available for roleplaying and SAs. My schedule is pretty full, so please PM me first to work out the details.)
+2 link
Shadowcthuhlu
Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1560

2/19/2020
Both Dirae Erinyes and Evensong take to the chopsticks with glee.
"A fish knife is impracticably specialized - much like our current mayor." Dirae Erinyes expounds "Has anyone else gone to her spa? It is lacking to say the least. I'm not sure if that is because of a gap between devils and human physiology, or if Virginia herself is a bad student of human behavior. But at least she knows how to play at the zee festival. Which I guess further reinforces her as a fish fork. Now, I see Jenny as one of the fine main course forks. Pretty but sturdy and sure of her function. Our favorite debater - a spork. Have any of you encounter those in your travels? I believe they are a zailors invention. Not quite sure what he wanted to be."
Evensong cuts in. "Feducci is a poisoned tea spoon. I'm sure everyone heard about that dreadful salon in which everyone died. Turned out all the tea spoons at a hidden compartment of poison in their core, which leaked out with each stir. Deceptive, untrustworthy. "

--
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
+2 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

2/21/2020
Tadhg too perks up at the mention of the theatre. "Oh, that one! The ocelot just had to see that one, so we did. How did his review put it? 'Never in the history of the stage has the term "break a leg" been meant so sincerely. I would snap a limb, too, if it would excuse me from being involved in such a performance.'

"Of course, that's still a better run than 'All's Well That Ends at Zee.' Not many runs end with the director burning down the theatre so he can get out of his contract."

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+2 link
Preacher Tzara
Preacher Tzara
Posts: 67

4/27/2020
The Preacher awakes,yet again, from his slumber. He looks. He says, raising a cup:
- “Dear ones! Are we here? Are we here at all? Should we not wrap this and go on our respective ways, to our respectives bussinesses? The sky and the moon run late, and I feel, dear Professor, our matter at hand here is due, as is the bill. Such, I propose a toast to us all, and our dear Siankan the first, for such an splendid evening, and to all who left early! I say, CHEERS!”

--
Preacher Tzara: A curious storyteller wrapped in smoke and candlelight. A Journalist of some dubious skill. We began with the river, remember?
+2 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

2/21/2020
Siankan wrote:
Tadhg too perks up at the mention of the theatre. "Oh, that one! The ocelot just had to see that one, so we did. How did his review put it? 'Never in the history of the stage has the term "break a leg" been meant so sincerely. I would snap a limb, too, if it would excuse me from being involved in such a performance.'

"Of course, that's still a better run than 'All's Well That Ends at Zee.' Not many runs end with the director burning down the theatre so he can get out of his contract."

"well if were comparing disasters an aquantince of mine combined correspondence dance the bell and candle and the concursion of petals, the ministry didn't even have to burn the script, and let us not think of what happened to the performer on opening night."

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
Shadowcthuhlu
Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1560

2/21/2020
Siankan wrote:
Tadhg too perks up at the mention of the theatre. "Oh, that one! The ocelot just had to see that one, so we did. How did his review put it? 'Never in the history of the stage has the term "break a leg" been meant so sincerely. I would snap a limb, too, if it would excuse me from being involved in such a performance.'


"Of course, that's still a better run than 'All's Well That Ends at Zee.' Not many runs end with the director burning down the theatre so he can get out of his contract."


"I was at that performance!" Dirae Erinyes chimes in. "That's probably why I didn't remember it was bad."
"Mostly because only later did you discover it wasn't in the script." Evensong adds in, not able to resist some loving teasing. " At the time, you thought it was a brilliant meta story about one director's fight against everyone around him, with All's Well that Ends at Zee being a play within a play."
"Well, I think we can all agree the fire was the best part."

--
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
+1 link
Thanos Black
Thanos Black
Posts: 73

2/21/2020
"So are we talking about a play that should and shall be soon forgotten? Or is this play so bad that one has to see it, potentially making it, in the fullness of time, a classic? We are here now, an esteemed gathering of guests, commenting on it. Is this, perhaps, the kind of immortality the play's creator had hoped their work to attain?" Thanos Black asks the gathering, happy the conversation has moved onto lighter subjects.

--
Avid Collector of Multifarious Paraphernalia and all Manner of Things Useless, Unwanted and Unnecessary.
Curator of the Society for the Diffusion of Useless Knowledge.
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Thanos%20Black
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

2/21/2020
Thanos Black wrote:
"So are we talking about a play that should and shall be soon forgotten? Or is this play so bad that one has to see it, potentially making it, in the fullness of time, a classic? We are here now, an esteemed gathering of guests, commenting on it. Is this, perhaps, the kind of immortality the play's creator had hoped their work to attain?" Thanos Black asks the gathering, happy the conversation has moved onto lighter subjects.

"Which play?" asks Sian, before finishing the last of his fish. "'The Duchess of Cambridge' is, from what I understand, simply painful. The writer was not the most incandescent talent in Veilgarden to start with, and he twisted so often to avoid Ministry attention (which, given his subject, was hopeless) that he was left with something both incoherent and uninteresting. The producers are expected to declare bankruptcy within a week.

"The other... well, if we are exceedingly lucky nobody will remember anything of its plot, but its end is sure to be remembered for many years to come. In fact, I hear there's a small clique of playwrights hoping to form a 'pyrotechnic school' and imitate the final curtain call. They won't get a theatre, of course, but if the Ministry doesn't stop them I'm sure they'll make their own venue on the north edge of town. On a completely unrelated note, I hear fire insurance rates in that area have been on the increase."

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

2/21/2020
Shadowcthuhlu wrote:
"The question is" Dirae Erinyes comments after finishing off another platter of fish. "Is it any worse then the rates around the university? Somedays, I swear most of my income from being a Correspondent goest straight back into insurance."

"Fire prevention or lead poisoning--ours is a profession of fascinating choices."

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

2/25/2020
Sian smiles. "To tell the truth, no. I always wondered why livestock was so scarce in the Neath. Cattle, I understand; they're hungrier than horses, if less picky. Pigs, though, and goats--they'll eat anything a human will, and a good bit more. A place that could keep millions of humans fed, however creatively, could certainly support a few domesticated omnivores. So I bought some land out Prickfinger way, imported a few pigs, some goats, and several type of fowl, and play my hand at farming.

"So tonight you're all eating Neath-raised pheasant. Not quite the same as pheasant shot on the Yorkshire wolds, but pleasant enough, I trust."

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Shadowcthuhlu
Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1560

2/26/2020
Dirae Erinyes leans over with a mock whisper. "Elder continent vegetation. You are going to need heavy bribes to get the right kind best and you'll need a plan in case it grows too fast. But that lettuce makes my cow glow."
"Literally and figuratively" Evnesong clarified.

--
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
+1 link
Lady Sapho Byron
Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 806

2/27/2020
Siankan wrote:
"So," says Ondine brightly to Lady Byron, "what horrors have you seen in the theatre recently?"


"As you may guess, I attend that play about the letter G whenever I can. It never fails to produce the most shuddersome nightmares. That's why I never go alone. But for true horror, nothing--absolutely nothing--can surpass the expurgated version of A Midsummer Night's as performed by the Lady's Auxiliary Amateur Players of Southwark."

Lady Byron is overcome by a fit of shivering.
edited by Lady Sapho Byron on 2/27/2020

--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
+1 link
Lady Sapho Byron
Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 806

2/27/2020
Siankan wrote:
"Oh, darling!" Ondine rests her hand on Sapho's arm in commiseration. "I saw their production of the Scottish play once. It was horrid. Happily, the gentleman accompanying me was an actor himself, and not quite sober. There was a bit of a row when he objected to their cutting out the Porter's lines and began declaiming them at volume. We were escorted out before the end of Act II, but all in all, I thought that was a benefit.

"Really, though, you shouldn't expose yourself to that sort of thing alone. Nothing encourages one through a poor performance like the hope of a good roast on the carriage home; do call on me next time."


"You are too kind, Ondine!" Sapho gratefully turns to her companion. "The only reason I went at all was to discomfort the audience--you know, 'Why is she at a play like this?' and so on--but as it transpired, I was far more distressed than anyone else. I have learned my lesson and I shall certainly call upon you if I am ever inclined to be so foolish again!"

--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

2/27/2020
"the worst play I ever saw, well preformed in really was the zailers wife, to give a little background I had recently heard about the phantom of the ammisar and decided to give some people a scare with the myth, (no unterword goals at all) to make a long story short apparently I had made my appearance in a ghost scene, I inadvertently joined the chorus, the main character got ill, I got mistaken for the replacement, was sent out onto stage with a cursory knowledge of the script and had to bluff my way through the play. all was going well until the final act where a rival spy recognized and attacked me, the curtain finally fell amidst our scuffle and the director was given enough "praise" as a forward thinking visionary to be drunk for a month." the old man smiles and then says "in retrospect may have been a better play than some I've written myself."
edited by the old man on 2/27/2020

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

3/6/2020
To cleanse the palate between the fowl and the meat, the attendants bring out ices from Irem, laced with rose and served in chilled favrile glass bowls.


A faint breath stirs the air, rippling the water that had been still as glass. Seen through its wrinkled surface, the trees and orchids and--is that a bird?--below seem to stretch and pucker.


[OOC: Sorry I've been out a while. I was waiting on some things last week, and then this week has mostly been a matter of tornado cleanup. (I and mine are unaffected, but we're all pitching in as we can. There's mess enough for everyone.)]

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

3/16/2020
Shadowcthuhlu wrote:
Evensong is openly delighted by the bird, eyes watching the water for more signs of bright feathers flying below them.

Tadhg too watches the bird with evident delight. He is Neath-born, and a bird resplendent in the fading light is a sight his eyes have never had a chance to tire of. As it finally flicks itself off among the drowned trees, Tadhg's eyes catch Evensong's in a moment of shared understanding.

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

3/16/2020
the old man wrote:
the old man leans back and smiles as the bird which so often guided him out of madness flits out of sight, the old man sighs and says "this has been a fantastic evening truly, but I fear I have left it too long, my wife will be worried, so unless their is anything truly exceptional I must see, I will bid all good night."

Ondine surveys the lapping waters and the endless Parabolan horizon. Her eyebrow raises. "Were you intending to walk?"

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

3/17/2020
Sian gives Tanith a long, hard look, the kind that says, Are you quite sure you aren't mad, friend? However, it doesn't do to question the sanity of one's guide while still in the field, and besides, when you've fought the Nadir for each others' memory, you have a certain base level of trust. After a moment he sighs, sends a last worried looked at the soggy bandages swimming away, and sits down.

"All right, friends. We may as well sit down. Nothing to be done about it now. But may I please ask, if anyone else feels like wandering off, that you at least wait for the main course? I've already got enough to explain to my chef as it is." He smiles for his guests, but a little worry creeps back in his eyes when he lifts them to the moon.

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

2/20/2020
"My lady," Sian says with unusual severity, "even barring the constitutional issues, the Princess is most certainly not a good mayoral candidate. You might wish to withhold judgment on that score until you have more familiarity with her Highness--although I warn you, that is a dangerous thing to attempt."

Down the table, a complicated series of emotions, which he could not entirely restrain, play over Tadhg's face. It is unlikely anyone notices, and less likely that most of the table could interpret them.

"Now as to your comments on the fish knife," Sian continues, gesturing with his toward Dirae Erinyes, "it depends in a sense on one's needs. A chef can do almost anything with one solid kitchen knife, and a zailor with one solid knot. Yet chefs appreciate having cleavers and boning knives and paring knives, and zailors have their hitches and bowlines and overhands. The importance of specialization comes down to how much it improves the task, and how often that task needs to be done.

"After all, a fish knife is no more specialized than a soup spoon or a brandy snifter--and I don't know about you, but I have fish rather more often than brandy down here. If there's a problem with it, it's the ridiculous number of utensils you can end up with," he nods at the collection of tableware as yet unused by each plate. "One occasionally meets a society hostess who believes that a half yard of silverware is an apotropaic against the hoi polloi, but that's nonsense. A Knotted Sock could use every utensil to perfection, if you just told him to start outside and work your way inward." He returns his attention to the snapper, hooking out a small bone with the curve of his knife.

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Lady Sapho Byron
Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 806

2/21/2020
Lady Byron is remarkably quiet. Perhaps she is concentrating on mastering the chopsticks. Or perhaps she is simply enjoying the start of a good set-to.

--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/15/2019
Six Handed Merchant wrote:
. Perhaps you have a small one on hand that would fit him?”

.
.

edited by Six Handed Merchant on 12/15/2019

the old man walks over "I couldn't help but over hear your conversation." he takes off his feast of the rose mask using some tricks with bandages to makes sure a mask is always on him and holds it out "might this suffice?"

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
Six Handed Merchant
Six Handed Merchant
Posts: 155

12/15/2019
Six graciously accepts the mask and gingerly places it over the mollusk's head. Several tentacles fidget with the mask for a minute, nearly spilling the sherry, but eventually Oliver settles down again with the mask firmly in place.

"I must say, thank you." Six smiles at the old man. "But what will you now wear for a mask?"

--
The Six Handed Merchant: If it's the truth you seek, The Six Handed Merchant is the gentlemen-, er, lady-, er, detective you need! Just pay no heed to that Eradication Officer tailing Six: that poor fellow is simply out of his mind!

Six's Mantlepiece (I am available for roleplaying and SAs. My schedule is pretty full, so please PM me first to work out the details.)
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

2/19/2020
At this moment, thankfully, the fish course comes in. For the bold, there is Zee-fish, prepared in the manner the Japanese call sashimi. Lacquered chopsticks sit on these plates, though no one looks askance at those who prefer to use a fish fork. For guests whose taste buds are still recovering from the zzoup, or who simply preferred some sort of cooking to stand between them and the creatures of the Zee, there is baked snapper, served whole. (It is not salt; the fish must have been brought live down the Canal. It is not live now.)

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Preacher Tzara
Preacher Tzara
Posts: 67

2/19/2020
Lady Sapho Byron wrote:
&quotOn more than one occasion I have found that ridiculous affectations can be useful,&quot Lady Byron observes as she fails to maneuver the Zee-fish to her mouth with the chopsticks. &quotAnd just how does one use these?&quot

-"With patience,I would fear. In chopsticks lie a way to Hell".

--
Preacher Tzara: A curious storyteller wrapped in smoke and candlelight. A Journalist of some dubious skill. We began with the river, remember?
+1 link
Lady Sapho Byron
Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 806

2/19/2020
"That sounds like a brilliant line of poetry!" Lady Byron remarks to the Preacher.

Unsurprisingly, Sapho's slender hand is warm and smooth. "Thank you, Ondine!" Lady Byron smiles brilliantly in return.

"Don't let the bottom move and the the top does all the work ... that's easy enough to understand!"

--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
+1 link
Six Handed Merchant
Six Handed Merchant
Posts: 155

2/6/2020
The octopus looks confusedly at the old man, oblivious to the deeper machinations of the evening. But when handed the card, Oscar takes it in a free tentacle and tucks it into the brim of Six's purloined hat.

--
The Six Handed Merchant: If it's the truth you seek, The Six Handed Merchant is the gentlemen-, er, lady-, er, detective you need! Just pay no heed to that Eradication Officer tailing Six: that poor fellow is simply out of his mind!

Six's Mantlepiece (I am available for roleplaying and SAs. My schedule is pretty full, so please PM me first to work out the details.)
+1 link
Aberrant Eremite
Aberrant Eremite
Posts: 362

2/11/2020
Tanith moves to a heavy curtain hanging on the right-hand wall. She pauses and turns back to face the guests. “Follow me! One at a time, please.” She winks. Then, parting the curtain slightly, she steps through.

As the guests follow, more than one give a cry of surprise. Beyond the curtain their feet fall, not on wood or carpet, but on an immense, vividly green lily-pad. It floats over a silver birch-forest, on water so limpid that some think, for a moment, they are in the air. Ahead of them, across the drowned forest, a swollen orange sun is beginning to set. A cool evening breeze brushes their faces. Behind them, the lemon-yellow moon rests on the horizon like a sleeping cat.

Moored to the lilypad are slender silver gondolas. Lanterns hang from each high scrolled prow. At the stern of each stands a smiling attendant, in Parabola-linen and a straw boater. Across the water floats a pavilion of pale wood, its hanging lanterns glowing softly. More uniformed attendants stand ready there to serve dinner.

Tanith directs the guests into the boats, two to a gondola. They glide over a forest of birch and beech and yew. The crowns of the tallest trees form a leafy archipelago. The trunks of others are thick with many-colored orchids. A lone panther passes below, swimming gracefully among the trees.

At the pavilion, attendants help new arrivals onto the platform. One long table runs down the center; creamy lotus and magnolia blossoms sit in bowls on the wine-dark cloth. To one side, appropriately-sized tables have been set for rats and blemmigans. On the other, space has been made for a chamber quartet. (They perform expertly despite their lack of heads--the players seem to be empty suits. ) The attendants fill hands and tentacles with drinks, but otherwise leave the guests to chat or admire the setting. As needed, however, they help each guest find the proper place at the table. Some of the name cards are freshly inked.

--
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.
+1 link
Shadowcthuhlu
Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1560

2/11/2020
Dirae Erinyes guides their wife unto the gondola, a bit more gingerly and protective then the occasion calls for. As their gloved arms clasped each other, they wrecked their brain. Was the Parabola a safe ground for Cousins? Surely they must have tangled with tigers and snakes during their time in the Neath, even before the Foreign Office fell down.

It was no matter, they were there. And Sian was too good of a host to let in the more vicious dwellers of parabola.

Dirae Erinyes looked down at Evensong on their shoulder. "A moment like this deserves a romantic song."
Evensong buried her face in Dirae Erinyes shoulder "That doesn't mean you should sing it."

Dirae Erinyes cleared their throat and a few notes creaked out "When the moon hits your eye like a pizza pie, that's amore. . ." "Why do the devils have the best romantic songs?"

Evensong shrugged. "I would prefer not to think about moonlight hitting me again. And. . ." She gave evaluating stare at the lemon moon. "I don't think that resembles a pizza pie - what ever that is."

"A devilish food for sure," Dirae Erinyes stated with authority. "Burning hot, and mostly inedible like the rest of their cuisine."

--
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
+1 link
Ixc
Ixc
Posts: 439

2/13/2020
Siankan wrote:

Ondine laughs melodiously. "Darling, we are old friends. Both part of the Family, as Sian likes to say. [...]

She swirls her wine lightly in its glass. "So tell me, sir. You say that you miss being able to call this place lovely. What is it you call it, then?"



"Ah. Families of covenant are so much stronger than blood, or so the saying goes. For my own..." For a moment, his face tightens as he puzzles over Ondine's words, but then Ixc leans back into his chair, and light reverie settles on his face. "It took me a while to gain such a family, but I w- am glad to have done it. The first was a rather vigorous gentleman I met when I first came down here. The other two I met through... work. A zee captain; a lady in the cream of society, a barrister. We shared our work, then we'd lend each other little nudges and favors, and that grew into camaraderie. I remember when we shared our first bottle of Broken Giant."

(spoiler for length and somewhat heavy topics/imagery)

[spoiler]
"Those friendships were like... a rope to hold onto in dark times. And in the beginning we had our hard times, but we helped each other. You cut yourself on the rope and you heal around it, with it now a part of you."

He stops, and though he is still smiling, pain creeps into his eyes. But he pushes it down, and searches for another topic.

"I'll answer your question in a roundabout way. The Romans, that mighty old empire, used to sweeten wine with grape extract stored in lead jars. Dangerous, though the Romans didn't know it. It's said this extract steals your movement, your mind. It's never realized what sort of danger lurks in such a wonderful thing. It can't kill an empire, but it can smother and steal people in ways that may never be cured. I understand it's hard to stop using something so lovely. After all, I enjoyed letting this dank cavern fall away, and finding the splendor I'd given up. In the end, when I understand what, and who drives this place, I gave that splendor up again. It was like drawing out a rope that had become a part of me, something strong and needed, but something truly poisonous and hungry. For this place's loveliness is driven by hungers that must be satiated. A honey dealer might take your money, or a tiger might take flesh, but that's a mercy compared to what others do here. I was lucky in that too."

[/spoiler]

Ixc sighs. "It's said that we don't choose our families, but we do our friends. And in your case, I'm wondering which it is..." His mind, long and quietly mulling over Ondine's words, brings the pieces together in his mind. "Are you, Tanith and the Professor related by blood? Siblings? ... old cousins?" At the last phrase, he gently pinches the edge of his cheekbone, drawing the skin slightly loose from his face in a seemingly absent minded gesture. His eyes flick over to Nora, who looks over at him with a stony face.

Nora, for her part, stares down at her glass of wine, and swills it. She knew that even hinting at her secrets could mean having them found out. For her part, she had never even risked Ixc's secrets. If he hired her to guard a parcel, she did so with her life, even though she had only one and him many. She'd ink his agents and agree to drown the ink's secrets in purple light. So for him to not do the same...So many others she knew were the same way, selfishly asking for promises and oaths they'd never make for her. But there was one oath...

The wine tastes coppery in her mouth, and she considers its rich redness, a color so dangerous and powerful here. She had other secrets that stem from her oldest ones. Secrets that would keep her safe, ones hard to find and dangerous to understand. So she drank deep of that red liquid, and let Ixc continue.

(OOC):

That got long and somewhat dark, which I apologize for and will try to avoid going on, but the cracks in Ixc's past and potential future friendships, and how they've changed him are something I wanted to explore, as well as some of Nora's discontent.

--
Pleased to meet you. Ixc, spy and detective. Inventor of the Correspondence Cannon.
Are you a Paramount Presence? Record your name here. For posterity, of course.

Being poked incessantly by nightmares? Poke them back!
Vote the Viscountess for Mayor!
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

2/13/2020
[OOC: I made up a quick seating chart of the table. Apologies for not sharing earlier, but there were some question marks I needed to work out. (There's still one, but I thought, heck with it.) I didn't want to clutter the RP thread with it, but you can find it at the link below.]

https://community.failbettergames.com/topic27805-the-cintamani-ball-evening-falls.aspx?MessageID=245389#post245389

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

2/13/2020
Thanos Black wrote:
"Study of the Correspondence mostly, Professor. As appropriate a subject as it is dangerous. It has taken a lot of my time, and a little bit of my sanity, but my thesis on the matter was completed a mere weeks ago, and the University has accepted my findings with enthusiasm, strangely enough. I had quite expected them to have kicked me out of the amphitheater as a nonsensical radical." He thoughtfully sips his wine. "My other favorite matter of research, or rather more of a hobby, is cartography, as well as the acquisition of maps of any kind. A fascinating, if futile, diversion."

Sian studies Thanos closely for a moment. "Given your lack of interesting scars, Mr. Black, you must be a promising scholar indeed. And I wouldn't be too surprised by the University; more of them dabble in the discipline than you're aware of. But now I must insist that you stop by again. Advanced Correspondence study is a risky thing to undertake alone, and I might provide you with some guidance. Also, I keep a supply of Drake's Correspondence-burn cream for the inevitable necessity. (Don't let the "Captain" fool you. He's also been known as "the Fighting Professor," and at times has been further ahead in the study than I.)" Sian pulls a small paper from one pocket, a wrapped piece of charcoal on the other, and scribbled a short note. "Here," he said, handing it to Thanos, "a source that might prove useful.

"I've another reason for you to stop by, too. I've some beautiful maps in the library which might interest you. Trying to chart the Unterzee will do more damage to your sanity than the Correspondence, but the individual pieces remain remarkably stable. I've a lovely illustrated atlas of the Carnelian colony, with 'Here be monsters' written, quite accurately, in several places offshore. Some of the nautical charts are my own."

He turns to the Marchioness. "And how do you find the evening, my lady? Have you had much experience with Parabola?"
edited by Siankan on 2/13/2020

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Shadowcthuhlu
Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1560

2/13/2020
Evnnsong stops delicately sipping zzzoup (a real achievement to be honest) to give an approving nod. "When I find myself on unsafe streets, I don't spend my words telling them that I feel unsafe. That only urges on the predators. So, let's stop painting a target for them, shall we?"

--
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

2/14/2020
The tureens are removed, along with the bowls and Oscar's now-empty snifter of bisque. In their place comes that Neathiest of haute cuisine, the mushroom course. The diners are presented, à l'americaine, with artful plates holding a selection of mushrooms. There are stuffed morels, holding the lost flavours of the English kitchen garden. There are boletes soaked in a hot, spiced wine of the Elder Continent. There are indigo milk caps, cubed and drizzled in oleo santo. Small bowls of each are placed on the table so that, having sampled all, diners could refill with their favorites. (To the varying joy and dismay of the company, this course means those fiddly little mushroom forks that are all the rage.)

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

2/18/2020
AbsolxGuardian wrote:
"Do let me know if you require my services, Professor Black," the Marchioness replied

Sian leans over and, very gently, says, "Not Professor, yet. Academics are a prickly, vicious lot, and Mr. Black doesn't need the kind of trouble that comes from a half-dozen colleagues thinking he's using a title he hasn't earned. I have no doubt he'll get there, if he decides it's worth the effort. Until then, 'lecturer' will keep people from sending him poisoned mantles."

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/21/2019
6:oo A deep voice booms from the brass mask above Cintamani House's door: "Time is!" Inside, the Rubbery Choir is replaced by more conventional musicians. Dancers rush to fill in the last blanks of their dance cards. Flapping matrons perform their usual duties, informing young things (and occasionally their husbands, who already know) of the rules: dance with anyone who asks, leave no one without a partner, don't dance with your own husband or wife.

However, space has been provided for those disinclined to dance. Across from the foyer the Albedo Room has been opened. Here, under the Firebird chandelier, long tables of refreshment have been set up. There is a selection of amuse-gueule, there are towers of croquembouche, there are candied chestnuts and solacefruit, there are cheese plates of Roquefort and Camembert and Gruyère, there are bowls of pale fish, there are neat stacks of candles. Above these, garlands of greenery have been strung on the stark white walls. The garlands' benignancy is questionable, but they are high enough to be no particular danger.

The Nigredo Room has also been opened, at the north end of the hall. Here the floors are black rippled stone, with black-and-silver wallpaper. A large stone Fourth City tortoise dominates the room's center. The rest of the room, however, belongs to card tables. The decks are new, with distinctive gilded backs to prevent anyone from sneaking in marked cards. Already the first games of whist are beginning, and at a corner table some old men have located a pair of dice and begun a game of hazard.


Back in the main room, the Professor leads Dione out to begin the ball. The band strikes up Brahms, and the first two dancers begin a Viennese waltz. They twirl through the ballroom for a few minutes alone. Then Ondine and August take the floor, and the first dance has begun.

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/24/2019
Shadowcthuhlu wrote:
(Sorry, I spent the last three days being taken over by holiday nonsense)
Questions about swans and rubbery musings are left behind as the music plays. Rules be damned and rulers overthrown - Dirae Erinyes and Eensong only have eyes for each other. Dirae Erinyes leads, leaving breathless space in between steps as they improvise on the standard waltz. Evensong loses themselves at the dip, letting their guard down as they fall in Dirae Erinyes strong arms. A favor returned as they spin Dirae Erinyes across the floor, showing strength beyond their frame as joyous laughter fills the air with each spin. All is forgotten in a moment


But of course this can't last. Not if the matrons have anything to say about. One is already gathering back up to break up the happy couple. But at least it's a pleasant sight for the romantic. And the war of wills to follow surely to be entertaining for those who aren't.

the old man being of the romantic type smiles at the couple, with only a hint of jealousy at their romantic skills. When the old man got home he found a few romantic notions he didn't recall procuring.

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
Lord Gazter
Lord Gazter
Posts: 669

12/24/2019
the old man wrote:
Shadowcthuhlu wrote:
(Sorry, I spent the last three days being taken over by holiday nonsense)
Questions about swans and rubbery musings are left behind as the music plays. Rules be damned and rulers overthrown - Dirae Erinyes and Eensong only have eyes for each other. Dirae Erinyes leads, leaving breathless space in between steps as they improvise on the standard waltz. Evensong loses themselves at the dip, letting their guard down as they fall in Dirae Erinyes strong arms. A favor returned as they spin Dirae Erinyes across the floor, showing strength beyond their frame as joyous laughter fills the air with each spin. All is forgotten in a moment


But of course this can't last. Not if the matrons have anything to say about. One is already gathering back up to break up the happy couple. But at least it's a pleasant sight for the romantic. And the war of wills to follow surely to be entertaining for those who aren't.

the old man being of the romantic type smiles at the couple, with only a hint of jealousy at their romantic skills. When the old man got home he found a few romantic notions he didn't recall procuring.


Having finished a dance with a graceful young socialite Lord Gazter fills his empty hand with another glass of wine. He watches the charming and romantic dance of his friends, and silently toasting to their continued happiness. As the dance concludes Lord Gazter looks through the crowd for a short while before noticing the lonely old bandaged gentleman. It was not an unfamiliar site for his lordship. Lord Gazter feeling in the mood for some interesting conversation decides to approach the old fellow.

"Ah dear friend I believe we are not yet acquainted. I'm Lord Barnabas Gazter."

--
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 ten pence!
+1 link
Odetteah Fairbridge
Odetteah Fairbridge
Posts: 6

12/25/2019
A woman wearily walks up to the doors of the Cintamani House somewhat out of breath. Her practically Peligin hair tied up in a braided bun, with looser locks threatening to cover her mask. The mask itself only covered her head down to her nose. The mask was colored scarlet, and near the light seeping from the windows the faintest twinkle of gold glimmers from the painted floral like patterns on the facewear in question. Her dress was rather decorative. A Peligin corset with a violant skirt, both minimally and modestly embroidered with threads that reflected like gold but were nothing more than a pale immitation. She held the skirt slightly above the ground with her black laced gloves gripping the fabric, her equally black boots visible underneath. Only one thing stuck out like a sore thumb on her attire, a velvet colored silk wrapped around her right arm just above her glove which covered up halfway to the elbow.

She glanced behind herself twice and nearly stumbled on her second time. Regaining her footing the lady's shoulders sagged in supposed relief.

The woman caught her breath, or faked it enough to convince herself, and raised her head to walk calmly in.

Odetteah Fairbridge bowed her head politely to the Tigress as she entered. She was late. She knew she was late. Ms. Fairbridge's emerald eyes wandered across the sea of people. She found herself smiling, to her own surprise.

"It's wonderful..." Odetteah stills for a moment in realization. She was invited to this by the Professor, it'd be best to find him and thank him for his hospitality.

As she begins looking, she holds her right arm.

--
"'Fickle'? Perhaps at first glance, sure.
But know that a first glance is but a grain of sand on a beaches shore.
A vastly minuscule part of an ever expansive whole."

https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Odetteah
+1 link
Lord Gazter
Lord Gazter
Posts: 669

12/25/2019
Honeyaddict wrote:

(OoC: Lord Gazter, I'm no longer a Canon, haven't been for a while)

"I have indeed sailed quite a bit here, from Mutton Island to Polythreme to the Court of the Wakeful Eye and even the Iron Republic. How about yourself? You seem like a weathered Zailor yourself." Honeyaddict said with a laugh, looking at his cards and folding immediately, he refused further cards. He wasn't one for cardgames he preferred dice, cards were too easy to cheat with even with normal cards.
edited by Honeyaddict on 12/25/2019

OOC: That question was was dirrected at the Old Man. He introduced himself as Mr Cannon earlier.
edited by Lord Gazter on 12/25/2019

--
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 ten pence!
+1 link
Six Handed Merchant
Six Handed Merchant
Posts: 155

12/25/2019
[OOC: My apologies for not replying sooner but seasonal travels have been hectic for me. Hopefully I can get to everyone who addressed me, and will be able to reply more often for the next few days.]

--
The Six Handed Merchant: If it's the truth you seek, The Six Handed Merchant is the gentlemen-, er, lady-, er, detective you need! Just pay no heed to that Eradication Officer tailing Six: that poor fellow is simply out of his mind!

Six's Mantlepiece (I am available for roleplaying and SAs. My schedule is pretty full, so please PM me first to work out the details.)
+1 link
Jolanda Swan
Jolanda Swan
Posts: 1823

12/27/2019
Jolanda feels the cold of the outside finally leave her bones as she dances. Perhaps a feather cape, beautiful as it is, wasn't the best idea. "I have kept in touch," she whispers to Ixc, "been to their Court, once or twice, visited them behind the Parabola mirrors. I am striving to make the connections between them. Without getting scratched by seven inch claws, that is. But before we get into that, who is your friend? I had to dash out so fast, we weren't properly introduced."

--
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
+1 link
Lady Sapho Byron
Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 806

12/27/2019
Iris Sims wrote:

"I've only been to two... so far. I've heard whispers of a third Arbor. I haven't found out much, yet, but it's piqued my morbid curiousity."


"Oooh! Curiosity, there's something we have in common!" Lady Byron remarks as the dance comes to an end. After a bow to her partner, she offers her arm once again. "Do let's find a refreshment or two and while we're about that business, you simply must tell me what makes your curiosity morbid!"

--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
+1 link
Lady Sapho Byron
Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 806

12/28/2019
Catherine Raymond wrote:
Iris Sims wrote:
Lady Sapho Byron wrote:
"Oooh! Curiosity, there's something we have in common!" Lady Byron remarks as the dance comes to an end. After a bow to her partner, she offers her arm once again. "Do let's find a refreshment or two and while we're about that business, you simply must tell me what makes your curiosity morbid!"

Iris curtsies and takes her arm. "Refreshment sounds lovely -- particularly if they have hot mulled wine. It keeps the chill out!" And the nightmares at bay. "'Morbid' may not be the right word. I don't so much seek the morbid, as when something I seek turns morbid, I don't shy away. Unstoppable curiousity, that's more accurate."


C., who had decided that competing for dance partners was not to her taste just now, overheard Iris's comment. "Curiosity is neither bad nor good nor 'morbid'. Whether curiosity *should* be stopped depends on what the likely consequences of satisfying it may be," she remarked.


“Ah! Ms …” Lady Byron’s brow furrows in puzzlement as she searches for the name of the woman who has joined them. She only finds it when she glances away. “Ms Raymond. A pleasure to see you here! I trust the season is treating you well?” she asks, passing a glass of mulled wine to Iris and then to Cathy and then taking one for herself.

“A toast to curiosity,” she proposes, and then with a wink to Iris adds, “of all varieties!”

--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
+1 link
Six Handed Merchant
Six Handed Merchant
Posts: 155

12/30/2019
the old man wrote:
we'll see about that shall we. The old man breaks into a maniacal grin as he deals



"Mind if I just sit here and let Oscar take this game? He's far more cardsharp than I am." Six glances up at the octopus on their hat, which shifts its weight eagerly.

--
The Six Handed Merchant: If it's the truth you seek, The Six Handed Merchant is the gentlemen-, er, lady-, er, detective you need! Just pay no heed to that Eradication Officer tailing Six: that poor fellow is simply out of his mind!

Six's Mantlepiece (I am available for roleplaying and SAs. My schedule is pretty full, so please PM me first to work out the details.)
+1 link
Lady Sapho Byron
Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 806

1/2/2020
Six Handed Merchant wrote:


"Sapho! Why, I would be delighted, my friend! Although I'd hate to tear my partner-in-fashion from the game." Six looks up at Oscar. "Would you mind taking my seat for awhile?"

The octopus looks at the detective, then at his cards, and nods. Six gently lifts the cephalopod from their head, but their wide-brimmed fedora leaves with him, sending a cascade of green curly hair down to Six's shoulders. Six shrugs and places the octopus on their seat, hat and all.

Six quickly checks their green curls in a small compact mirror before offering their hand to Sapho. "Shall we?"


Sapho takes Six’s hand--after a brief pause to appreciate the scrumptious shower of curls--and the pair move toward the dance floor. On the way, Sapho whispers in her friend’s ear. Keen-eared listeners pick up a few words: “fiery … Elder … unutterable … Ministry …”
edited by Lady Sapho Byron on 1/2/2020
edited by Lady Sapho Byron on 1/2/2020

--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

1/3/2020
Shadowcthuhlu wrote:
Dirae Erinyes dances with two young things, literally hanging on their arms. With each swing, peals of laughter fills the air, as innocent as a child tossed in it's parents arms. In such platonic affection, Evensong has no fears. But London dances aren't her taste - not without the speed or nostalgia of the Elder Continent.
But her spy instincts bring her to the side room. Like all spies, she enjoys games within games - and every spy knows how to say three different messages with a hand of cards and the flick of the wrist. She gives a friendly nod to the Old Man who is helping to scare up some of the Stags. She has no interest in fleecing the ignorant and drunk.
She picks a deck carefully from the rat with a nod, before spreading the cards out around her. Princes and princess dot the edges, leading into kings, queens, empresses, khans, - all lead to the center, a mountain. With quick movements, she tidies up the brown cards.
It's a six pointed web, with four rings. She watches the crowd, seeing if any recognize this Vesiture game.


(sorry about the last one I think an lb ate it)
the old man does not recognize the game but the symbolism unmistakable "I'm glad to see their are still mysteries, regrettably Oscar is quite the card octopus so I have been ousted from my game, care for a dance." The old man taps his hellfire ring three times and crains his neck showing the barest hint of a tattoo made of irrigo.

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
Thanos Black
Thanos Black
Posts: 73

1/3/2020
Thanos Black realises he is out of his league. The two spies seem to be able to suffuse their every movement with cryptic messages, should they want to. He understands the language they speak without words, but does not understand the meaning, save for the barest hints, like a foreign language one has merely a very basic grasp of. Still, he tries to pick up as much as he can, without staring at them. No doubt his sideways glances have already been noticed by their experienced eyes, but he hopes they won't mind a little "eavesdropping" from his part. Surely, even if the rest of the night remains completely uneventful, he will come out of this ball a little wiser in the ways of the spies of the Great Game.

--
Avid Collector of Multifarious Paraphernalia and all Manner of Things Useless, Unwanted and Unnecessary.
Curator of the Society for the Diffusion of Useless Knowledge.
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Thanos%20Black
+1 link
Six Handed Merchant
Six Handed Merchant
Posts: 155

1/21/2020
the old man wrote:
"now" the old man says abruptly, "we're all wallowing in our sorrow, let us dance. The old man brings out a drum from somewhere in the folds of his cloths, and begins to beat it handing a smaller one to Oscar.



Oscar, who had been using several arms to scoop his winnings into Six's fedora, is surprised to find a hand drum suddenly shoved into a free tentacle. He looks at the instrument quizzically, but then begins to haltingly mimic the old man's energetic drumming. Sadly, the cardsharp cephalopod is far better at running a table than carrying a rhythm, and gives up on his haphazard rapping at the drum when the old man collapses upon a couch.

With the poker game over and his winnings gathered, the octopus looked around for his next diversion. Since Six was still preoccupied with Sapho on the dance floor, Oscar began to eye the unusual game that had started at the next table. With kings, khans, heretics and monster hunters, it was a game unlike anything he had ever seen before!

Intrigued, the cardsharp cephalopod dragged his hat full of coins over to the other table, and after securing a snifter of brandy, perched on an empty seat back to watch this unusual card battle unfold.

.
edited by Six Handed Merchant on 1/21/2020

--
The Six Handed Merchant: If it's the truth you seek, The Six Handed Merchant is the gentlemen-, er, lady-, er, detective you need! Just pay no heed to that Eradication Officer tailing Six: that poor fellow is simply out of his mind!

Six's Mantlepiece (I am available for roleplaying and SAs. My schedule is pretty full, so please PM me first to work out the details.)
+1 link
Lady Sapho Byron
Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 806

12/18/2019
Siankan wrote:
Lady Sapho Byron wrote:
“And speaking of called, what shall I call you?”

"La! You do not recognize me behind this mask? Has Ondine made so little impression on you? Well, I shall have to try harder tonight."


"How foolish of me!" Lady Byron apologizes. "And I who pride myself on being so observant. I propose a pact: you try hard to make an impression on me tonight and I shall endevour to make best amends for my transgression."

--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
+1 link
Lady Sapho Byron
Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 806

12/18/2019
Iris Sims wrote:
Iris arrives later than she'd planned to, only a bit of blood on her red velvet gown hinting at what the hold up had been. Her brown ringlets are for once not stuffed into a hat but instead bounce freely as she walks. Most of her mask matches her olive skin, except for around her eyes, where glittering red paint gives the appearance of Attar.

Iris heads to the drinks table for wine and to eavesdrop on conversations of the drunk.


"I say," an elegantly slender red-head remarks to Iris whilst collecting a glass of wine, "what a splendid mask! It's both seasonal and Neathy: nicely done!"

--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/18/2019
the old man walks away from the toast with a smile on his face but somewhat concerned as to why he made a toast on his own and is that irrigo he tastes on his tongue what is he missing what or indeed who has he forgotten, for the third time this night he regrets giving up his weaponry
edited by the old man on 12/18/2019

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/18/2019
The youth whose mask is half young, half old walks up to the woman in the purple-amber frock. He presents to her two ostrich feathers, dyed violant. A woman (he will not be drawn on who, though guessing is not difficult) sent them as a gift. He is too well-bred to offer to tuck them into her mask-band himself, but would do so if asked.

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Shadowcthuhlu
Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1560

12/18/2019
Lord Gazter wrote:
"Things in London have been going swimmingly. Many new vissionaries in Veilgarden, new discoveries at Benthic, and affairs at court remain the same. I'm sure it is in no small part from our wonderful Lord Mayor"

OOC: No problem I just left it open in case you wanted to tease . smile


Evensong glances over at Jolanda's mask, before snapping back to attention. "I'm going to ask a private question. Are you surface or London born?"



edited by Shadowcthuhlu on 12/18/2019
edited by Shadowcthuhlu on 12/18/2019

--
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/18/2019
Shadowcthuhlu wrote:
Evensong glances over at Jolanda's mask

[N.B. To my incurable regret, Jolanda has not yet made her entrance to the ball. Perhaps she is waiting to make the most dramatic entrance.]

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/18/2019
the old man looks at the ball room where the snake appeared mutters something about always coming back then going to the wine cellar and there it is again irrigo and violant? what on earth is he missing and then just as suddenly its gone and he goes back to being a normal tomb colonist going to the wine celler to block out the memory's this party has awoken "knew I should have brought my forget me not handkerchief he mutters".
edited by the old man on 12/18/2019

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/19/2019
5:30 The Rubbery Chorus begins its festive wurbling. Guests drift toward the opposite end of the hall.

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/18/2019
Catherine Raymond wrote:
Good evening, all! Would anyone care to join me in a holiday toast with Greyfields' finest beverage?"

"yes to our gracious host who I suspect is a little more gracious than he should be."

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
Iris Sims
Iris Sims
Posts: 21

12/17/2019
Iris arrives later than she'd planned to, only a bit of blood on her red velvet gown hinting at what the hold up had been. Her brown ringlets are for once not stuffed into a hat but instead bounce freely as she walks. Most of her mask matches her olive skin, except for around her eyes, where glittering red paint gives the appearance of Attar.

Iris heads to the drinks table for wine and to eavesdrop on conversations of the drunk.

--
Curiousity has not yet killed Iris Sims
+1 link
Shadowcthuhlu
Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1560

12/17/2019
Lord Gazter wrote:
With a glass of wine and without his companion Lord Gazter meanders his way over to and inspects this unexpected reptilian guest. He ponders on the creature for a moment, while he fiddles with his mask in order to take a sip of his wine. After having finally taken a sip and readjusted his mask Lord Gazter notices a familiar pair also observing the beast.


“Dirae and Evensong what a pleasant surprise. Back from your trip I presume?”


"Ah, yes the trip was. . .lovely." Evensong sums up a novel in a sentence. "We have just returned. How has London been since we have been gone?"
OOC: excuse me for being vague on the trip, I still need to write up the rest of the honeymoon.

--
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
+1 link
Honeyaddict
Honeyaddict
Posts: 505

12/17/2019
As August hears of the snake, he excuses himself from his current conversation and sneaks to the room where the snake had appeared to see if it was of a certain subspecies... He could catch those quite easily and as he put on his Cosmogone Shades, both as a warning and a threat to the snake should it be from said subspecies, he looked around. He didn't manage to see the snake so he donned his mask again before sneaking back into the ballroom like nothing had happened. He rejoined the conversation he had left momentarily with Lady Byron and the Six Handed Merchant. "My apologies, did I miss anything?" He asked with his usual kind smile, his eyes looked around the room looking for Professor Sian, August had to ask him a couple questions later surrounding the incident. No Glassman leaves business with snakes up to chance.

--
Honeyaddict, Silverer Scarlet Saint, Paramount Presence of the Old Regime
pleasure to meet you.

Has some ideas the Masters won't approve of like some items and establishing a Colony in Parabola. Update: a Basecamp has been completed, now to win back the Viric Jungle in order to build the Church itself!

I will accept most social interactions (not duping). I do enjoy role playing as well.
Have some possibly still active codes.
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/17/2019
the old man returns to the party with his composir regained though visibly concerned at his lack of weaponry, he laughs and mingles with other guests with only slightly more twitchiness than normal. "so mr august I saw your glasses and wanted to ask you see I went to parabola a long time ago long story short the glass man accompanying me died I owe a debt to two cats and I am now in bandages, but I have a question what is the valley of serpents I spent a week in their but couldn't figure it out."
edited by the old man on 12/17/2019

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
Greg M
Greg M
Posts: 197

12/17/2019
It is good to be here, thinks GregM as he walks into Cintamani House. GregM and Professor Siankan go far back—the Professor was a generous mentor when GregM first arrived in Fallen London, and a supportive friend when GregM went undercover as a Crooked Cross in a misguided attempt to end corruption. It had absolutely no impact. Not even the Masters got mad… or even noticed, aside from one amused note complimenting GregM on his “unusualicitous mecha-machination-states.”

But the Professor had taken GregM’s situation seriously, and helped extract him into the friendly embrace of the Midnighters, who engage in no covert activity whatsoever.

GregM stands in the foyer, drinking it all in. He spots several familiar faces— CathyR, and the delightful Six-Handed Merchant in some kind of octopus hat. A sentient octopus hat! GregM hurries over to greet Six; yes, GregM’s wearing a mask, but he’s also wearing a token of St. Joshua and has parked an Overgoat outside the mansion, so who else could it be? GregM offers a mushroom appetizer to Six, and another to Six’s hat.

Wait. Did he see CathyRaymond? Where was she? Was she here at all? Was that a weird, Nadir-esque flash of purple?

He bows to Siankan from across the room, and offers him a mysterious package, one of FL’s famous postal service packages that comes with a very good chance of getting *something* profitable, and only a tiny chance of a Starveling Cat.

GregM nods to the old man — possibly new to him, and—Catherine Raymond! What a surprise. GregM makes a mental note to greet her. Greet who? GregM knows there is irrigo somewhere. What was he talking about?

GregM greets the tigress. He thinks he may have met her at the Court of the Wakeful Eye. He’s returned several orphans to them, and will be quick to remind you that the tigers do not *eat* the orphans, they’re *related.* “A pleasure, er… Sian’s Tiger,” says GregM. “I was just at your Court. Have you been back recently? Would you like a vegetarian appetizer?”

Next up to greet, lxc and honey addict. And there was someone else here—Catherine Raymond, perhaps?
edited by GregM on 12/17/2019

--
Profile: GregM.
http://www.fallenlondon.com/Profile/GregM

Available for any non-harmful social interactions.
+1 link
Honeyaddict
Honeyaddict
Posts: 505

12/15/2019
"Pleasure to meet you as well Old Man, thank you for having read my research, after all honey and wine mixed with some Correspondence gives wonderful results. Did you know that Prisoner's Honey is great for suffocating fires, the fire also caramelises the honey, truly a unique taste!" Honeyaddict said with a laugh, he wore his elaborate Neathy mask which left his mouth free for food and drinks alike. He wore his Parabola-Linen Suit to further emphasise on that particular aspect of his look, he turned again to Siankan. "What is the point in collecting vintage wines if one isn't going to enjoy them after all, how is the research going?" He asked with a smile as he entered the large ballroom, he noticed the colourful appearance of Siankan's companion. "Violant eh? A lovely colour unique to the Neath, pleasure to make your acquaintance, I'm Honeyaddict, also known by the name of August."

--
Honeyaddict, Silverer Scarlet Saint, Paramount Presence of the Old Regime
pleasure to meet you.

Has some ideas the Masters won't approve of like some items and establishing a Colony in Parabola. Update: a Basecamp has been completed, now to win back the Viric Jungle in order to build the Church itself!

I will accept most social interactions (not duping). I do enjoy role playing as well.
Have some possibly still active codes.
+1 link
Lady Sapho Byron
Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 806

12/16/2019
Tonight, Lady Sapho Byron wears an elegant mask of black floral lace; it does nothing to conceal her identity. Her gown is forest green patterned with the same floral designs as her mask. The cuffs on her long sleeves and the hem on her skirts are white fur and a thin white belt (or is it a tie?) with hanging ends is cinched about her slender waist.

Entering, she nods to the tigress and presents herself to the host and (probable) hostess with a small curtsy. “A Merry Yule to you both and warm thanks for your kind hospitality.”

--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
+1 link
Lady Sapho Byron
Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 806

12/16/2019
"Six!" Lady Byron is alight with enthusiasm and soft laughter. "Could anyone have a finer hat than the one you sport? No. No they could not!"

--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/16/2019
Sian shakes the hand of his bat-masked guest. He's met the Lord Gazter once or twice, but not enough to identify his mannerisms under the embellished bat. "Good evening, sir. Welcome to the house."

His companion, meanwhile, takes Sapho in her arms. "La! Lady Byron! The Professor told me that you had promised to come! Positively jubilant that you're here. But darling," she says, mock seriously, "the two of you must stay away from the wines this time. If you begin composing again, who shall protect the innocent? And someone here"--you could hear the eyebrow raise behind the mask--"must be innocent.

"But come!" She leads Sapho into the room. "Do tell what you've been up to. And where did you get that marvelous sash?"
edited by Siankan on 12/16/2019

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Six Handed Merchant
Six Handed Merchant
Posts: 155

12/16/2019
"Sapho! It's so good to see you!" Crimson eyes gleam as they take in their friend's exquisite ensemble. "You are as stunning as ever, my dear!" They smile when she comments about the hat. "Thank you for the compliments, that means a lot coming from you!" Did Oscar just turn a deeper shade of red? "I believe mollusk-themed haberdashery is all the rage, or rather will be if I have anything to say about it.”

After greeting their friend, Six turns to their host. "Good to see you too, Sian, I wouldn't have missed this for the world!" Six curtseys to the professor and his companion. "And thank you for graciously allowing my friend into such a prestigious soiree." There octopus turns a shade of color that only one as well-read as the Professor would recognize as a sign of respect.

--
The Six Handed Merchant: If it's the truth you seek, The Six Handed Merchant is the gentlemen-, er, lady-, er, detective you need! Just pay no heed to that Eradication Officer tailing Six: that poor fellow is simply out of his mind!

Six's Mantlepiece (I am available for roleplaying and SAs. My schedule is pretty full, so please PM me first to work out the details.)
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/16/2019
I apologise I had to leave for a little a small matter of business but I thank you for the compliments, it is excellent to meet all of you in person I've heard so much about you (god time zones are monstrous) I also brought a new mask its the devil mask from last Hallowmas and if worst comes to worst I always have the orphanage mask.
edited by the old man on 12/16/2019

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/16/2019
when my nocturnal (to me at least) colleges have returned, I shall ask mr addled about this colony I keep hearing about and ask la- ge- errr just six I suppose for a dance

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
RosamundAtwood
RosamundAtwood
Posts: 5

12/17/2019
Rosamund Atwood enters in a swirl of skirts, her burgundy gown threaded with gold and iridescent threads that catch the light. Her dark hair is pulled back in a bun, adorned with a festive sprig of white poinsettia. She makes her way over to the hosts, her hands carefully splayed over her face, revealing only her eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Professor! Merry Christmas Ondine! Thank you so much for your kind invitation. Might I still be able to borrow one of your masks for the evening, or shall I continue to improvise?” She wiggles her fingers, the nails of which are painted a glittery gold.

“Oh! I’ve also brought back your book, Professor. Many thanks for your generosity.”
+1 link
Lady Sapho Byron
Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 806

12/17/2019
Siankan wrote:

His companion, meanwhile, takes Sapho in her arms. "La! Lady Byron! The Professor told me that you had promised to come! Positively jubilant that you're here. But darling," she says, mock seriously, "the two of you must stay away from the wines this time. If you begin composing again, who shall protect the innocent? And someone here"--you could hear the eyebrow raise behind the mask--"must be innocent.

"But come!" She leads Sapho into the room. "Do tell what you've been up to. And where did you get that marvelous sash?"
edited by Siankan on 12/16/2019


“But are there innocents here?” Lady Byron asks, exaggeratedly looking about the room, having easily slid into the welcoming arms. “But if you can keep the Professor wine-free, then the two of us shall stay away from it. And as to my sash, it’s from a little place just off the Bazaar called The Gentleman’s Halse. And speaking of called, what shall I call you?”

--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
+1 link
Lady Sapho Byron
Lady Sapho Byron
Posts: 806

12/17/2019
Six Handed Merchant wrote:
"Sapho! It's so good to see you!" Crimson eyes gleam as they take in their friend's exquisite ensemble. "You are as stunning as ever, my dear!" They smile when she comments about the hat. "Thank you for the compliments, that means a lot coming from you!" Did Oscar just turn a deeper shade of red? "I believe mollusk-themed haberdashery is all the rage, or rather will be if I have anything to say about it.”


"And look! Now you're a red-head just like me! Oh ... and I deem your chapeau to be a cephalo-cephalopod."
edited by Lady Sapho Byron on 12/17/2019

--
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Lady%20Sapho%20L%20Byron
Fighting the Menace of Corsetry Since 1892.
+1 link
Ixc
Ixc
Posts: 439

12/17/2019
Ixc and Nora discussed the party and their lack of invitations as they approached Cintamani House. "I hope the professor doesn't mind if we gatecrash. I mean half the town is apparently going to try it." Ixc said worriedly.

"I mean what's the worst that could happen? They have a tiger at the door?" Nora smiled at him and ran around the last corner to the House.

"Well, tigers are very hard to fight. Or even avoid a mauling."

"If you don't mind, do you have any ideas? It's a little important right now." Nora's voice floated back towards to Ixc

"Nora, I doubt that would be necessary. I mean, it would be almost impossible the Professor would have a tiger-" Ixc rounded the corner. "Oh".

"Yep."

"Well, let's see if we can get into the party without being mauled. I would hate to play chess with the Boatman or whatever boring pastimes they have instead of attending a party as energetic as this one." Nora shrugged. "I would hate to ruin this suit, but carpe diem." They both march up to the tiger, faces carefully hidden. Their masks of choice were a dark blue glim masquerade mask (with a hard to detect pattern of a black sun sundered by white in the center) for Ixc, and a black metal masquerade mask with what could be a wyrm or snake running from ear to ear across the eyeholes for Nora. They both beam at the tiger, their half-covered faces the picture of innocence.

--
Pleased to meet you. Ixc, spy and detective. Inventor of the Correspondence Cannon.
Are you a Paramount Presence? Record your name here. For posterity, of course.

Being poked incessantly by nightmares? Poke them back!
Vote the Viscountess for Mayor!
+1 link
Six Handed Merchant
Six Handed Merchant
Posts: 155

12/17/2019
Lady Sapho Byron wrote:
"And look! Now you're a red-head just like me! Oh ... and I deem your chapeau to be a cephalo-cephalopod."


"Well, red is a gorgeous color, and quite seasonal!" Six grins, crimson eyes shimmering in the lamplight. "And I believe you're right: 'Cephalopod'! That was the word! It was hard enough to figure out his name, so I thank you for helping me get his species right." The octopus-like creature settles down contentedly, sipping their sherry.

.
edited by Six Handed Merchant on 12/17/2019

--
The Six Handed Merchant: If it's the truth you seek, The Six Handed Merchant is the gentlemen-, er, lady-, er, detective you need! Just pay no heed to that Eradication Officer tailing Six: that poor fellow is simply out of his mind!

Six's Mantlepiece (I am available for roleplaying and SAs. My schedule is pretty full, so please PM me first to work out the details.)
+1 link
Honeyaddict
Honeyaddict
Posts: 505

12/17/2019
August (Honeyaddict) walked around the party, spotting a lot of familiar and less familiar faces. He sees lady Byron, who is already occupied with the six handed Merchant and decides to walk over to the pair of redheads. "Good evening to you two, Sapho, you're stunning as always and si.. eh, mis.. eh yes, I believe we haven't met yet?" He says turning to the cephalopod-hatted redhead. "I'm Honeyaddict, or August, whichever you prefer, and might you be the Six Handed Merchant? I've heard rumours of you in the more wild circles of the Bohemians." He said with a soft laugh.

--
Honeyaddict, Silverer Scarlet Saint, Paramount Presence of the Old Regime
pleasure to meet you.

Has some ideas the Masters won't approve of like some items and establishing a Colony in Parabola. Update: a Basecamp has been completed, now to win back the Viric Jungle in order to build the Church itself!

I will accept most social interactions (not duping). I do enjoy role playing as well.
Have some possibly still active codes.
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/17/2019
"well" says the old man waking from a wine induced stupor, "missed them again, well my offer of a chat and a dance is still open if you don't mind my slow responses, I am somewhat drunk" (and in a most likely different time zone from you delicious friends, but never mind that)
edited by the old man on 12/17/2019

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/17/2019
Lady Sapho Byron wrote:
“And speaking of called, what shall I call you?”

"La! You do not recognize me behind this mask? Has Ondine made so little impression on you? Well, I shall have to try harder tonight."

The Professor, meanwhile, bows smilingly to Miss Atwood. (Taking her hand seems, at the moment, rather rude.) "It is wonderful to see you here tonight. And that is a lovely mask," he adds with a pointed glance at the tiger, "but I suspect you would like your hands for other things. Perhaps you would like to try one of those?" He sends her off toward the collection of Visager masks which he had earlier mentioned to the old man.


A guest or two later, he spots a dark-masked couple trying to ingratiate themselves with the tigress. He walks over and takes their hands in turn. "Bonsoir!" he says. "I am Professor Kan. Welcome to my home."

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/17/2019
5:15 There is a gentle hiss in the foyer. A society matron, newly arrived, looks up to see the glowing, sinuous form of Ithuriel nestled in the tree-column's branches. He sways his head toward her. She faints.


The butler, in a gilded medico della peste, provides salts.

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Shadowcthuhlu
Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1560

12/17/2019
(Do correct me if I am wrong on what theriel's species is)
Dirae Erinyes comes over to the tree, clapping their hands in delight. "Another hound, how capital!"
A wry smile cross Evensong's lips. "I guess we know who wasn't invited."
"Oh, I'm sure the Embassy is having the own ball. Not out of spite what so ever. You know, if we had enough hounds we could have have our own hunt in the quarter. . ."

--
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/17/2019
Siankan wrote:
5:15 There is a gentle hiss in the foyer. A society matron, newly arrived, looks up to see the glowing, sinuous form of Ithuriel nestled in the tree-column's branches. He sways his head toward her. She faints.



The butler, in a gilded medico della peste, provides salts.

"snakes snakes there's a reason I don't have honey and its to stay away from the snakes" the old man brings out his hunting rifle "if it comes within five feet of me I shoot the d--m thing

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/17/2019
Siankan wrote:

Low thunder rumbles from the divan. A slender man appears at the old one's side. Half of his mask is a young face, half is old; both halves are smiling. "Excuse me, sir. I am afraid that firearms are not allowed in the building this evening. If you will allow me, I will place it somewhere safe. We will return it to you when you leave." He gently, but firmly, puts one hand on the stock, one on the barrel.
edited by Siankan on 12/17/2019

the old man smiles wryly "of course where are my manners," he says depositing an almost comic amount of weapons, one including a set of song lyrics "just please make sure that thing" almost spitting out the word "doesn't come any closer to me" he said almost shuddering.
edited by the old man on 12/17/2019

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/17/2019
Seeing the quantity of weapons, he motions for other servants to assist. Then he gently leads the old man back into the main room.

Sian, politely, notices nothing.

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
Catherine Raymond
Catherine Raymond
Posts: 2769

12/17/2019
The woman in the Strange-Shore frock looks up at the snake. "My word, Professor," she says to Siankan, "where did you obtain that beauty? Though I much prefer cats to snakes, myself."

She continued, "Actually, I have my own Hound, but he keeps to himself, most of the time. Because of all the cats, little and big."
edited by cathyr19355 on 12/18/2019
edited by cathyr19355 on 12/18/2019

--
Cathy Raymond
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/cathyr19355

Catherine Raymond aka Mrs. Rykar Malkus http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Catherine%20Raymond (Gone NORTH)
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/17/2019
Catherine Raymond wrote:
The woman in the Strange-Shore frock looks up at the snake. "My word, Professor," she says to Siankan, "where did you obtain that beauty? Though I much prefer cats to snakes, myself."

"Oh, hello! Splendid that you could make it tonight. As for your question, Professor Drake will be the best to answer that, once he arrives. I can say, however, that he's not your garden variety." Sotto voce he added, "Nor your mirror-garden variety. Shroud?"

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/17/2019
the old man standing as far away from the snake as possible, takes some broken glasses out of his pocket and looks into them a sad smile on his lips, there's a faint cosmogone glow from some of the remaining shards.

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
Shadowcthuhlu
Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1560

12/17/2019
Siankan wrote:
Catherine Raymond wrote:
The woman in the Strange-Shore frock looks up at the snake. "My word, Professor," she says to Siankan, "where did you obtain that beauty? Though I much prefer cats to snakes, myself."


"Oh, hello! Splendid that you could make it tonight. As for your question, Professor Drake will be the best to answer that, once he arrives. I can say, however, that he's not your garden variety." Sotto voce he added, "Nor your mirror-garden variety. Shroud?"

"Drake? That's not a name I've heard in a long time." Dirae Erinyes remarks. "Good to know he is keeping busy. Beast breeding is an honest trade."

--
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
+1 link
Siankan
Siankan
Posts: 1048

12/17/2019
"Now that the excitement is over, perhaps we should all return to the ballroom?"

--
Prof. Sian Kan, at your service.
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/17/2019
Siankan wrote:
"Now that the excitement is over, perhaps we should all return to the ballroom?"

"of course I'm already gone" said the old man putting down the glasses and moving at a frightening and somewhat undignified speed

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
Catherine Raymond
Catherine Raymond
Posts: 2769

12/15/2019
A woman in a Strange-Shore Parabola frock, a lavender iridescent silk half-mask, and forgotten spider silk slippers, clears her throat. Doubtless the amount of irrigo embedded in her attire accounts for the fact that she had not been noticed until then. "Ah, Professor Siankan, your chef has not forgotten what culinary delights can be made from common mushrooms," she remarks. "Would a bottle of Greyfields First Sporing do for a guest gift?"

--
Cathy Raymond
http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/cathyr19355

Catherine Raymond aka Mrs. Rykar Malkus http://fallenlondon.com/Profile/Catherine%20Raymond (Gone NORTH)
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/15/2019
the old man grins "hello mr honeyaddict I don't believe I have had the pleasure of meeting, im the old man and I must say I found you correspondence research illuminating come have a drink let us talk."

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/15/2019
Siankan wrote:
A tiger growls. "Mask, then?"

two actually devil first feast of the rose second

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link
Honeyaddict
Honeyaddict
Posts: 505

12/15/2019
Honeyaddict sees Professor Siankan and his partner, he pulls the bottle of Fourth City Airag: Year of the Boar out of his inner pocket as well as a note, which had his signature and seal on it, it was a note that'd allow him to get some of the Correspondence and Parabola Research Honeyaddict had done.
"Thank you for the invitation Professor Siankan. How have you been? It has been too long."

--
Honeyaddict, Silverer Scarlet Saint, Paramount Presence of the Old Regime
pleasure to meet you.

Has some ideas the Masters won't approve of like some items and establishing a Colony in Parabola. Update: a Basecamp has been completed, now to win back the Viric Jungle in order to build the Church itself!

I will accept most social interactions (not duping). I do enjoy role playing as well.
Have some possibly still active codes.
+1 link
the old man
the old man
Posts: 411

12/15/2019
the old man smiles being exactly one minute early "greyfileds first as promised I do hope this is fun and best of luck on your research notes" he says with a smile "now" he shouts "who wishes a dance don't worry im quite spry for being nearly dead" he chuckles and extends his hand in offer

--
an old irish spy from the colonies, somewhat irrigo impaired but still sharp as a tack. friendly enough just don't mention parabola he gets awfully melancholic. (an honorary cat my life is complete)
https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/The%20old%20man
no plant battles please for the love of god
+1 link




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