Cautious? No, we're dutiful. We go to the kitchen right away. We might return to the Inanna flowers later, when thoughts of the young foreigner stirs again...
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Vapourware [LP CYOA] Night of the Hummingbird
- Thread starter treave
- Start date
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2012
- Messages
- 28,349
Jing all right.
a cut of domestic sheep prime
Guest
B of course.
a bear named spigot
Arcane
- Joined
- Sep 19, 2012
- Messages
- 784
B
Esquilax
Arcane
- Joined
- Dec 7, 2010
- Messages
- 4,833
I kinda want to play things a bit more conservatively before we go full-Codex on this LP and go totally off the rails.
Anyways, Inanna's constitution is a definite problem:
I very much doubt that getting chewed out by her boss for being late would help our girl calm down given her nervous nature (if anything, she might be more on edge after this), but I see why folks might be eager to get stoned and hopefully get a SEKRIT ENCOUNTER.
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Anyways, Inanna's constitution is a definite problem:
I very much doubt that getting chewed out by her boss for being late would help our girl calm down given her nervous nature (if anything, she might be more on edge after this), but I see why folks might be eager to get stoned and hopefully get a SEKRIT ENCOUNTER.
A
a cut of domestic sheep prime
Guest
Such are the consequences of a woman not staying in the kitchen.
- Joined
- Jul 6, 2008
- Messages
- 11,370
A Chance Encounter
There was no hurry. Inanna understood that Lucia had given her an excuse to exit the hall, and that was all there was to it. There was no urgent biscuit crisis that she had to resolve. Rather, the only crisis right now would be the commotion going on inside the hall. Feeling grateful that she had not stayed there, she walked into the garden filled with Inanna flowers. A gentle breeze swayed the golden petals that had blossomed all over the soil. It carried a comfortable, slightly nostalgic fragrance to her nose. Her mother had once knitted these flowers into wreaths to make ends meet, before her sickness worsened. Maybe that was why she felt calm in their presence, but…
She did not think that was all there was to it. These flowers, named after a goddess of the old religion and first appearing after some great disaster hundreds of years ago; they always made her feel as if some higher power was watching over her. As if the goddess were actually real. Inanna was not a particularly religious girl, but on this point she could come to belief.
In the dim moonlight, the stone pathways of the garden were less familiar than they were in the day time. The fall of night changed how things looked; how the shadows shrouded the paths, how once familiar trees and statues were now cast in the different, soft glow of the gas-lights instead of the gentle shine of the sun, bringing different features to focus. She was not lost, but the night garden had always felt a bit more foreign to her than during the day. The only one constant, the only part of the garden that remained unchanging no matter the time of day or year, were the ever-blooming Inanna flowers.
Inanna looked around. If she were to reach the kitchens, then here she should go left…
The wind stirred again, the golden petals danced, and almost as if guided by an unheard whisper, she turned her head to the right on a whim.
Something was different about the flowers there, as if they had been disturbed. Not trampled, but ever so slightly out of line. Lady Ramsesphilios was quite insistent with the gardeners on this matter; indeed, she spent no small time herself pottering about to make sure every last bit of the garden was growing to her satisfaction. Why, the madam would be positively frowning if she saw this, thought Inanna. As someone who had followed behind her on many of those occasions, she prided herself somewhat at being able to notice when something is in disarray.
Pushed forward by curiosity, Inanna moved closer. There, half-hidden by the bushes and flowers, she glimpsed blue and white. It took a while for her vision to register itself in her mind. The blue was that of the tunic of House Ramsesphilios. The white was that of a man’s face. Pale, eyes open, staring up at the stars unblinkingly.
“Markos,” she whispered. He was one of the many guards that Lord Ramsesphilios had in his employ, a cheerful man who Inanna heard had just gotten married to his childhood sweetheart. She remembered her brother cynically remarking that it never bodes well when people like Markos married their sweethearts, particularly in times of turmoil. She did not really understand what he meant, but perhaps it was a premonition of some sort.
For Inanna knew very well what corpses looked like, and Markos was certainly dead right now.
Yet her heart was calm. It was not pounding, like earlier in the hall. Even though the process of violence terrified her, being confronted with its possible aftermath did not touch her one bit. She was nervous, yes. Afraid, certainly. But panic had no grip on her right now. A strange thing, that, and she knew others would think the same should they ever find out.
Was she broken somehow? Or was it the influence of the soothing flowers? Such thoughts flitted just briefly through her mind as she stepped towards Markos’s body out of curiosity.
There were no signs of blood anywhere except for a small patch of dark red on the front of his uniform, staining both fabric and brass buttons. His still face was calm and emotionless, like that of a statue. His lips were tightly shut. Only the eyes continued to remain open. He did not seem to have died of natural causes, thought Inanna.
Taking a deep breath, Inanna decided to…
***
A. Go to the kitchen. It was not too far from here. Old Usermatre was reliable both as the chef and as an experienced servant of the mansion. He would know what to do about this better than her.
B. Run all the way back to the banquet hall. She had to alert Lord and Lady Ramsesphilios about Markos’s death – this was a very grave issue, as his assailants could still be lurking somewhere around the mansion.
C. Head for the stables. Her brother, Eannos, was taking care of the guests’ horses there at the moment. Though his tongue was often barbed, he was the one person in this mansion that she could feel safe with at the moment.
D. Stay where she was, and shout loudly for help, to attract attention. She was confident her voice could carry far enough at least to alert the other guards. Running around in the middle of the night was risky.
There was no hurry. Inanna understood that Lucia had given her an excuse to exit the hall, and that was all there was to it. There was no urgent biscuit crisis that she had to resolve. Rather, the only crisis right now would be the commotion going on inside the hall. Feeling grateful that she had not stayed there, she walked into the garden filled with Inanna flowers. A gentle breeze swayed the golden petals that had blossomed all over the soil. It carried a comfortable, slightly nostalgic fragrance to her nose. Her mother had once knitted these flowers into wreaths to make ends meet, before her sickness worsened. Maybe that was why she felt calm in their presence, but…
She did not think that was all there was to it. These flowers, named after a goddess of the old religion and first appearing after some great disaster hundreds of years ago; they always made her feel as if some higher power was watching over her. As if the goddess were actually real. Inanna was not a particularly religious girl, but on this point she could come to belief.
In the dim moonlight, the stone pathways of the garden were less familiar than they were in the day time. The fall of night changed how things looked; how the shadows shrouded the paths, how once familiar trees and statues were now cast in the different, soft glow of the gas-lights instead of the gentle shine of the sun, bringing different features to focus. She was not lost, but the night garden had always felt a bit more foreign to her than during the day. The only one constant, the only part of the garden that remained unchanging no matter the time of day or year, were the ever-blooming Inanna flowers.
Inanna looked around. If she were to reach the kitchens, then here she should go left…
The wind stirred again, the golden petals danced, and almost as if guided by an unheard whisper, she turned her head to the right on a whim.
Something was different about the flowers there, as if they had been disturbed. Not trampled, but ever so slightly out of line. Lady Ramsesphilios was quite insistent with the gardeners on this matter; indeed, she spent no small time herself pottering about to make sure every last bit of the garden was growing to her satisfaction. Why, the madam would be positively frowning if she saw this, thought Inanna. As someone who had followed behind her on many of those occasions, she prided herself somewhat at being able to notice when something is in disarray.
Pushed forward by curiosity, Inanna moved closer. There, half-hidden by the bushes and flowers, she glimpsed blue and white. It took a while for her vision to register itself in her mind. The blue was that of the tunic of House Ramsesphilios. The white was that of a man’s face. Pale, eyes open, staring up at the stars unblinkingly.
“Markos,” she whispered. He was one of the many guards that Lord Ramsesphilios had in his employ, a cheerful man who Inanna heard had just gotten married to his childhood sweetheart. She remembered her brother cynically remarking that it never bodes well when people like Markos married their sweethearts, particularly in times of turmoil. She did not really understand what he meant, but perhaps it was a premonition of some sort.
For Inanna knew very well what corpses looked like, and Markos was certainly dead right now.
Yet her heart was calm. It was not pounding, like earlier in the hall. Even though the process of violence terrified her, being confronted with its possible aftermath did not touch her one bit. She was nervous, yes. Afraid, certainly. But panic had no grip on her right now. A strange thing, that, and she knew others would think the same should they ever find out.
Was she broken somehow? Or was it the influence of the soothing flowers? Such thoughts flitted just briefly through her mind as she stepped towards Markos’s body out of curiosity.
There were no signs of blood anywhere except for a small patch of dark red on the front of his uniform, staining both fabric and brass buttons. His still face was calm and emotionless, like that of a statue. His lips were tightly shut. Only the eyes continued to remain open. He did not seem to have died of natural causes, thought Inanna.
Taking a deep breath, Inanna decided to…
***
A. Go to the kitchen. It was not too far from here. Old Usermatre was reliable both as the chef and as an experienced servant of the mansion. He would know what to do about this better than her.
B. Run all the way back to the banquet hall. She had to alert Lord and Lady Ramsesphilios about Markos’s death – this was a very grave issue, as his assailants could still be lurking somewhere around the mansion.
C. Head for the stables. Her brother, Eannos, was taking care of the guests’ horses there at the moment. Though his tongue was often barbed, he was the one person in this mansion that she could feel safe with at the moment.
D. Stay where she was, and shout loudly for help, to attract attention. She was confident her voice could carry far enough at least to alert the other guards. Running around in the middle of the night was risky.
Nevill
Arcane
- Joined
- Jun 6, 2009
- Messages
- 11,211
The Octopus Witch is ever watching.
So, we are unnerved by violence, perfectly accepting of corpses, and are calmed in the presence of tentacles. We can work with that!
C. Head for the stables.
Abandon ship! Don't stay to witness the struggles of an assassination attempt, come back to smell the soothing flowers when they are all dead.
Seek out the brother.
C
C
a cut of domestic sheep prime
Guest
And running too far may actually be dangerous for us. Our girl does have a breathing condition after all...
D
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Think with your head, bros. The assassin may not be far off, and if they've seen that this poor girl knows it may be expedient to pick her off before she can inform anyone. If she screams will full use of her diaphragm, that draws attention and puts her at the center of a commotion where a veiled assassin would not like to be.
It'd be one thing to rely on the in-house guards, but Jing has a superhuman sense of hearing and I'm sure he'd be more than willing to come to the rescue of a maiden in peril.
Think with your head, bros. The assassin may not be far off, and if they've seen that this poor girl knows it may be expedient to pick her off before she can inform anyone. If she screams will full use of her diaphragm, that draws attention and puts her at the center of a commotion where a veiled assassin would not like to be.
It'd be one thing to rely on the in-house guards, but Jing has a superhuman sense of hearing and I'm sure he'd be more than willing to come to the rescue of a maiden in peril.
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