August 10, 2010 at 7:40 pm (Character development, Rumors, Society)
Tags: Parabola, Scandal
“… a packet o’ paper, five bottles of ink, a box of small tacks and a half-dozen fresh nibs. Here ye’ are, Miss Fawkes….”
Merri smiles her thanks, and if they are a bit distracted, she cannot truly help it. She would not have left her sitting room at all had it not been Esther’s day off, but she’d run out of nearly everything she needed to continue her work on the Parabola Equation and there was no one else to run the errand.
That’s when she runs into the first of her neighbors, a Mrs. Caravola, who could not wait to ask her about the latest rumors regarding Mr. Paulsen. And if Merri thought she was distracted before she’d left the stationer’s shoppe, what she hears afterward — from Mrs. Caravola, from Mrs. Bennet, from Mr. and Mrs. Carlisle, and a Miss Dewberry, and young Mr. Remington — sets her ears buzzing.
Vaguely horrified — mostly because the rumormongers seemed to think she ought to be horrified and it didn’t take much probing to discover why they assumed she should be horrified — she alters her course and heads toward the bookshop where Henrik and Theodor share rooms.
It perhaps is not the wisest course she could choose, given she’s now as mired in scandal as Henrik, if not moreso, but she’s only two blocks along the way when she spots his familiar figure walking toward her on the street.
[okay, if this doesn’t suit, I shall rewrite however you think best. Cue Henrik!]
July 20, 2010 at 5:17 pm (Progress Report)
Tags: Forgotten Quarter, Scandal, Shuttered Palace
What a chaotic and unsettled few days it has been. Interruptions, quarrels, endings, deaths — not always an ending, as denizens of the Neath know — it’s the kind of strife best loved by Hell, one supposes. Sufficient explanation for why it must happen here with dismaying regularity!
I have recovered from my personal breakdown over the weekend and now feel rather aimless, drifting the twisted streets of this city like a wraith. The Shuttered Palace has become tiresome diversion. My time in the Forgotten Quarter I must limit — as long as I may focus on The Correspondence, all is well. Now that I know the truth of the hunting horns in the distance… hearing them stirs such anger, such indignation. I would that I could ride to the rescue of those poor unfortunates whom the devils hunt and yet I am prevented, as well all are. It is yet another fact of this place I wish I could unknow.
There are so many of them. It’s no wonder we all run mad here occasionally.
I have taken to wandering Watchmaker’s Hill, Spite, and Mrs. Plenty’s Carnival to divert myself, rather aimlessly accepting employment from the various ministries and seeking anything that might provide stimulation. I fear this creeping boredom worst of all, it has ever been my Nemesis.
The most pleasant happening in recent days was the privilege of spending a quiet afternoon renewing a friendship with dear Tobias, whom I have missed dreadfully during his recent absences. His quiet strength and solicitous attention were just the anodyne I needed to soothe the troubles which had plagued me so. Afterward he very kindly set about my usual haunts, quelling some of gossip being spread about me with such deftness and diligence that I find myself untouched by any sort of scandal whatsoever, for the first time in a very long time.
I have been quite fortunate in those of you who’ve chosen to befriend me, truly. No woman could ask for better.
As ever, dear friends — the Tea Room remains open, if you wish to drop by and chat. Also, our next Open Salon is scheduled for July 31st, August Eve. I hope to see you there.
July 19, 2010 at 12:08 pm (history, Tobias)
Tags: Carnival, Heart's Desire, Marvellous, portrait, Scandal
Written by cl0ckw0rks and TheSelks after their conversation in the Tea Room.
With a mysterious smile, Merri takes Tobias’ arm and leads him toward the stairs. On the walls are paintings and sketches, most of landscapes, flowers, and a few portraits though none are labelled. “I’ve had to take my time redecorating here. As I’m sure you know, it’s costly and my funds have gone to other pursuits much as yours have. Still, it’s been a pleasure to bring this old townhouse back to some semblance of its former glory. I do enjoy beauty so.”
His eyes move over the portraits as she lead him on, a faint smile crossing his face as he saw the landscapes. “The care you are taking certainly shows, I am firmly impressed. There is no doubt in my mind that you will have this house back to it’s full glory soon, you have an eye for such things.”
Read the rest of this entry »
July 16, 2010 at 5:27 pm (Progress Report)
Tags: Delicious Friends, Forgotten Quarter, Open Salon, Scandal, Shuttered Palace
- The Unaccountaby Peckish kind has mostly been a minor annoyance, one that lessened considerably when I enjoyed the last of the fresh food I smuggled in from the surface earlier in the week. I can find no real use for the hunger except to cause me to experience cravings that revulse me and so I’ll be glad when it’s gone.
- On a related note, I believe I’ve found no fewer than five counterfeit heads of St. John the Baptist since this silly season started.
- Loneliness is an underhanded, pernicious kind of hunger. It’s a more serious annoyance than the peckishness, if only because its remedy seems far to seek, indeed.
- In dealing with such unwelcome solitudes I’ve made the acquaintances of the exquisite Rhian Jenkins and a lady who goes by the unlikely psuedonym of “woogawoman,” a moniker I find delightfully intriguing. What is its origin? Why does she use it? Perhaps she’ll trust me enough to confide the truth of it, one day.
- Also, the formidable Madam Ella Kremper bade me come share a bottle of that wretched (wonderful), evil (liberating) Black Wings Absinthe with her. Even after consulting our dear Commodore about the contents, I was out of sorts enough to accept the invitation and drink the inky black stuff. “Blacker than an idiot’s shadow” indeed — and I think I had to be completely idiotic to drink as much of it as I did. Still… it did ease some of the restlessness, though I’m not sure I care for what I remember of the rest of the night. The Scandal, in the aftermath, was fairly entertaining….
- Oh, the poem! Thank you, those of you who’ve shared your feelings about it, your feedback (and even critique, in one case) was much appreciated. No, I haven’t heard from Huffam as yet — I rather doubt I shall, as I doubt it’s the kind of poem he generally cares to publish.
- Rather than continue to ask me the identity of the mysterious “you” in the verses, perhaps you’ll all consent to consider it simply an abstract, or a generality and leave to good breeding any other speculations you might have? Thank you ever so….
- Ambition is a kind of hunger; this one is not an annoyance though what I must do to achieve it is. I am so sick of the Forgotten Quarter I do wish I could forget it, but until this thing with the relics is over I am doomed to return there, it seems. Quite candidly, if I didn’t need the echoes for a rather stunningly expensive purchase, I wouldn’t return at all!
- I did remove myself to the Shuttered Palace after a time as it turns out my cures for certain illnesses are rather well-received. Those luridly bright green tongues! I have seldom laughed so hard…! Almost payment enough! Almost.
Outside of hunger, I again contemplate throwing my doors open to all of Fallen London for an Open Salon. Again, I solicit you, my dearest delicious friends, for advice as to dates and times, if you have any. As for purely physical hungers, I have dinner invitations to keep me… sated. Or as close as I ever get to it, these days.
July 4, 2010 at 10:07 am (Progress Report, Rumors, The Surface)
Tags: Delicious Friends, Forgotten Quarter, Museum of Mistakes, Scandal
I was quite correct. It all does look so much better this morning.
Narciso, charming man that he is, has forgiven me my clumsiness and failure and given me the opportunity to try another unauthorized entry into the Museum of Mistakes on his behalf. It is so far a much simpler process than it was before, as my previous experiences have indeed stood me in good stead. I have laid a good ground work this morning and should have good news for the dear fellow before the week is out.
Indeed I must have it before the week is out, for news has reached me of a most uncommon expedition, on the surface, to the wild American northwest. I am to go and am somewhat excited for it, though it will restrict my activities here in the Neath somewhat. Fortunately, I have skills in that other world which are not prized and do not seem to apply here in the world of the Masters. With them I shall construct an Aetheric Two-Way Communicator that should allow me to stay in touch with my delicious friends here in some small way.
Last night, I also renewed a friendship with the handsome and knowledgeable Mr. W. and could not be more thrilled. I had not seen much of him since he relocated to premises at the Bazaar itself, which saddened me greatly. It seems I am to help him with a small matter, since he has fallen into upstanding and reputable times — I know those rumors to be misleading. He is a complicated man, as much a rake and a dissolute as any I have known, one who understands the need for stimulus, any stimulus, to fight off the hellish ennuí of boredom.
I do hope he will be a more regular visitor here for I greatly prize his company.
In a spate of more good news I have greatly reduced the threats to my archaeological expedition that Dr. Orthos and Virginia posed — at least for now. I do not delude myself that either has been completely eliminated as a threat, but I do have it on impeccable authority that I’m further along in my preparations than either of them, and intend to keep the situation just so. Best of all, just before I retired for the night I took a walk to clear my head and found that rare moment’s peace that was simultaneously inspiring and restful. I barely needed any laudanum at all to sleep the night through.
Two new acquaintances whom I hope shall be visitors here and delicious friends… and a plan to attract more ladies here, for though I adore my gentlemen friends thoroughly there are times when only the sparkling company of a lovely lady will do. Scandalous, I know… but then, what else did you expect? I cannot spend all my time in church (though one must confess that the curate and his sister made such attendances extraordinarily worthwhile…).
July 3, 2010 at 8:55 pm (Progress Report, Trivia)
Tags: Forgotten Quarter, Marvellous, Museum of Mistakes, Nightmares, Scandal, Suspicion, Wounds
I awoke this morning to discover I’d made the silliest of mistakes. I’d gifted a friend and fellow collector of First City coins with some of what I’d acquired, thinking it was “extra,” only to discover that I had not yet parted out my stake in the Marvellous. I don’t know how I made such an obvious and short-sighted error, but at least it was rather easily correctable. It did mean another rather odious visit to the Numismatrix, of course. I resumed my planning of an informal entry into the Museum of Mistakes shortly afterward and was well satisfied that I’d concocted a plan that would get me in, the coins acquired, and get me out again with no one the wiser.
To my utter astonishment and shame, I failed.
The details are a blur now. I know I took a spill off a slippery rooftop. There was something about a reflection in a glass, and snakes. Worse yet, I was sighted — oh the burning shame of it — and now I am on the “persons of interest” list the constabulary keeps.
Nightmares. Suspicion. Scandal. How I missed adding Wounds to that I’ll never know.
I’ve only ever felt worse than this once. The consequences of that incident drove me to Fallen London and the arms of the Bazaar. I have nowhere else to go now, except into laudanum’s embrace, perhaps. A night of sleep, or what passes for it. This will look better in the morning, I’m sure.
I’m scarcely faring any better in that silly archaeological dig in the Forgotten Quarter. I still don’t know how I ended up agreeing to that. One too many glasses of Greyfields 1882, no doubt. In any event, Dr. Orthos is hiring all my best assistants away from me and Virgina, that deviless with whom our dear Commodore Creazil is so enamoured, has had her minions spying on me almost ceaselessly. I’d been treating this whole expedition in a rather light-hearted vein, but after my abysmal performance at the Museum of Mistakes I do believe I’m about to get serious, very serious, about digging for relics in the remnants of the Fourth Stolen City.
Ah well. The night beckons, and another round of chances and opportunities. Good night, Fallen London. Sleep tight. Don’t let the sorrow spiders bite.