Invest 4 200
Wager: None (Betting is for punters)
Rent Spartan Apartment
Buy Scarlet Sash
Buy Quill and Inkpot
4 Likes
bzzzt!
Err-or! A wager must include an amount!
ding!
2 Likes
Oh, I do beg your pardon! All the excitement of wagering made me lose my train of thought.
Wager 50 Hamdinger
3 Likes
Invest 1 330
Wager Bricklayer 20
Buy Quill and Inkpot
Buy Signet Ring
Buy Fancy Monocle
3 Likes
Igor!
Yes Master?
Your annual wages are due this month.
Thank you, Master.
I will invest them for you in an lagine enterprise. A winner would pay off handsomly indeed.
Oh, thank you Master!
Mwa-ha-ha!!!
3 Likes
BUY Fancy Monocle
BUY Scarlet Sash
BUY Signet Ring
BUY Quill and Inkpot
INVEST 1 325
WAGER HAMDINGER 0
2 Likes
Say, that’s a hell of a bold wager, Mister Hi-Roller.
3 Likes
Igor gets paid everything he’s worth.
Thank you, Master.
7 Likes
Invest 4 300
Rent spartan apartment
Buy scarlet sash
Wager cheeky ballasts 50
2 Likes
Invest 1 200
Rent modest apartment
Buy signet ring
2 Likes
Invest 1 350
Rent Spartan apartment
Buy Scarlet Sash
2 Likes
Invest 2 199
Wager Argonaut 1
Rent Spartan Apartment
Buy Fancy Monocle
Buy Scarlet Sash
Buy Signet Ring
Buy Quill and Inkpot
2 Likes
Invest 1 425
Buy Scarlet Sash
[You feel beautiful]
{OOC: Request has been made to remove my GIFs due to epilepsy concerns, sorry to those affected!}
10 Likes
Eudaemonia studies her copy of the Space Times again. Such a dizzying dance of people and events, so many options before her. Her father had sent her to Weatherby to find her place in the world, to make her fortunes as her own father and his father before him had. They were both proud titans of the mercantile industry, ferrying goods from one planet to another (and ignoring those who whispered their disdain of “New Money” pretenders to society behind their hands.) Now it was her turn to face the world and forge her own path.
She sighs, comparing her income to the options at hand. Time to choose. First, she will need a base of operations. Something simple will do, so she selects modest accomodations in the city. Next, she must choose some form of business to invest in. What to do… education is important, of course. She could make a small bequeathment to a place of learning… but it could be more valuable to learn more of this society she finds herself in. There’s power in that. Yes. Having decided, she allows herself to purchase some fashionable accoutrements. As Mother always said, the proper accessories speak for oneself louder than words can. (Her elocution teacher at Excelsior Hall would have disagreed most vociferously with that statement, but she sets the thought aside.) Thinking on her mother and her crystal earrings, she impulsively makes a small wager on the space races. There, it’s done. She whispers the family motto, “sides adsit amicum.” Let my propitious star be present.
Rent spartan apartment
Invest 4 275
Buy fancy monocle
Buy quill and inkpot
Wager Crystal Wicket 50
8 Likes
somewhat unsteadily young Master Tom sways into the room
'Allo, 'allo, whass this?
Bot man- yes, yes indeed you, you wonderful windup mechanical man, I say,
put 400 on Stroppy Bottom, oh yes, I do like the name of that one,
from the corner a radio squawks to life, the voice high and piercing, barely distinguishable through the static
… ssk…Weatherby? Have I reached Weatherby? …delays worsen… unforse…
… ward…
orders have been compl…
…repeat:
Rent Spartan apartment
Invest 2 300
Buy Quill and Inkpot
Buy Fancy Monocle
Wager 25 Stroppy Bottom
7 Likes
Jean-Rhys strolls down the promenade, the scent of mint and anise hissing from her vents in small puffs and occasionally leaving momentarily stunned bystanders in her wake. The hour is late, and she has much to do, but it would be unseemly for one to rush about in public like some sort of peep-of-day boy.
She ducks into the nearest stationer’s to peruse their writing supplies. Laser engraving is quite fine and convenient for workaday book-keeping, but if she’s to succeed in this, her first social season in Weatherby, her correspondences must needs be conducted with the more personal touch conveyed by quill and ink.
A little while later, a window-display featuring the latest eye-wear snares her notice, and she enters a jeweler’s shop. Ultimately, she settles on a practical, yet stylish, monocle, the frame adorned with porpoifery-shell. It will likely be tricky to attach, considering her current cranial container, but she fancies it gives her a somewhat jaunty air without being too ostentatious.
Her confidence buoyed by this thought, she has a fit of insight and decides that a signet ring will be just the thing to give her social interactions that little extra zing! She makes the necessary design and delivery agreements with the jeweler and exits the shop feeling quite pleased with herself. Why, she may even have a special manipulator fashioned to be used as a mount for this ring; it could handle the monocle as well, if properly designed. It could actually be quite fetching, if done right. Mayhaps she could even start a third-arm trend with the gilded set… (but that’s probably just the keef talking).
Her fashion musings are interrupted when she notices a row of Mr. Boulderclaw’s odds-sheets pasted to an exterior wall. The betting window is just around the corner. Although not usually one to be distracted by such games, Banana Fritter is by all accounts a sweet-goer and, despite the odds, she’s feeling lucky. Besides, one never knows whom one might meet at the Lagoderm tracks.
But that’s enough frivolity. The rest of her funds must be allocated to her investments, and she really shouldn’t keep her broker, Mr. Frobisher, waiting any longer. She’s certain that educational institutions hold the most promise for her ambitions, and she has some rather particular requirements regarding the nature of her investments to impart to Mr. Frobisher, hence the need for an in-person meeting. Her dear alma mater, Weatherby U, would likely make a good candidate, but she will, or course, leave the details to her retainer.
BUY Quill and Inkpot
BUY Fancy Monocle
BUY Signet Ring
WAGER Banana Fritter 23
INVEST 5 376
7 Likes
So many opportunities But a family like ours hasn’t gotten to where we are by losing our focus: Sound Investing.
As always, stay close to my grandfathers three rules of investing:
- Never make an Investment you don’t understand.
- Never invest money you can’t afford to lose.
- If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
The offworld import/export business certainly has attractions. Cousin Shmuel would definitely be the one to evaluate those prospects. But the risks are considerable, and as I don’t favor a military air, best to leave this to others.
There is also the matter of Eighth. A clever one, but he needs to enhance his social algorithms, post-haste. He needs to be in town. A Spartan Apartment would be perfect, as he would eatthe upholstery in more proper surroundings. Blessedly, several have stepped forward to help with his acclimation. Taking him to the Club to be with his peers seems to going well.
For now, it’s about focus and sound investing
BUY Quill and Inkpot
INVEST 1 435
7 Likes
zzzzzt!
Everyone has made their plans for the winter season. Ama-zzzzzzing! I wonder what wonders wait in store as the season turns to spring.
sproing!
7 Likes
Orders for ‘Turn 2 - We are all go here in Weatherby!’ begin below.
[GM Note: Given time limitations on my end and the smaller player base, I’m going to forgo automation on this end. Public orders should continue to be posted in this topic, private orders should be submitted to @Bartelbot when appropriate. Order options that are best used via private submission will be clearly indicated when they are available.]
6 Likes
St-Patrick-Hartbrooke turns his head from the paper for a moment to cough into his kerchief.
This is unacceptable. It’s despicable. It’s unconscionable…
And Aaaakzeee St-Patrick-Hartbrooke III knows exactly who is responsible.
Very well, then. If that coward wants war, let there be such a war. He will burn down his enemy’s fortunes, his social standing, and his very manor around him, for daring to inflict such a pestilence upon him. In the Lord’s name, Dr. Franksenketchup (@Old) will pay for this indignity.
There could be no doubt. First, the “doctor” had requested a DNA sample for his unnatural experiments, to which there could only be one response: a polite but firm denial. Perhaps, it is true, the Taaa’keee had thrown a few too many plausibly-deniable mortal insults into the response, but they had been in proportion — exactly in proportion, he thinks — to the insult given by asking for the sample in the first place.
And now, he falls sick, not only as the Space Griffin had described in his refusal, but in such a way that would allow the doctor a chance to obtain such a sample… It is far too preposterous a set of circumstances to be coincidental.
He had felt that Franksenketchup had responded far too kindly to the insults he had levied upon him, and had been expecting a similar rejoinder, or a challenge to a duel of honour, or a test of skill, or some response he could leverage into higher social standing. However, this was not how a gentleman settled a grudge. Biological warfare was completely unacceptable.
And, to cap it all off, timing it to coincide with the arrival of the plague…
St-Patrick-Hartbrooke grows very still. No. Surely he isn’t that evil. A “Coat of arms,” though… What other abominations would the “doctor” be willing to unleash?
No. The Taaa’keee can prove nothing, and this is perhaps a leap of logic too far. So, for the moment, he will settle for avenging his personal wrong. Frakesnketchup wants war, does he? Then there will…
He breaks down into another coughing fit in the middle of his resolution. He will not meet his enemy in this condition, and give him the chance to collect his sample. So, there will be war… just as soon as this cough subsides.
Besides, St-Patrick-Hartbrooke is quite certain that Franksenketchup is out there destroying his own social standing well enough without any help. Let him build his own pyre, and Aaaakzeee will time his arrival perfectly in order to set it alight.
Resolution made, St-Patrick-Hartbrooke examines his options for investing in the next season.
He is still uninterested in investing in land; Hartbrooke Hall is home, and he needs no more soil than that.
And, while he enjoys the income from his current business endeavours, he fully acknowledges that he has no head for business, and would probably only get in the way of his business partners if he tried to find efficiencies.
However, he has heard rumours of some inventors who would require funding. His grandfather, the originator of the St-Patrick-Hartbrooke line, had been the inventor of the Self-Winding Interplanetary Mechanical Chronometer, marketed as the SWIM Watch. That invention was the basis for the St-Patrick-Hartbrooke fortune, and the Taaa’keee was sure that his grandfather, God rest his soul, would encourage invention as a worthy place to invest the money that, before it was inherited, originated from sales of the SWIM Watch.
That settled, he will, of course be attending the most fashionable party in the land. After all, there is no chance whatsoever of meeting an uncultured buffoon like his new adversary in such a setting. However, he must needs acquire an appropriate hat for such an event - the best that his funds can obtain for him. A few other accessories may not go awry, either (although not a snuffbox; a filthy habit, that is).
Totalling his expenses, he finds he has a few dollars left over, and decides, despite his previous failure, to wager them on another Lagoderm race. Scanning the papers, he finds that one is named after the Lord’s Day. Surely, that is a sign worth a wager, despite the dismal (but, if successful, very rewarding!) odds.
His funds committed, St-Patrick-Hartbrooke sets out, handkerchief pressed to his face, to affix his choices within the Public Ledger.
Invest 3 250
Attend 1
Buy Silk Bowler
Buy Provocative Novel
Buy Fashionable Handkerchief
Wager Sunday Stroll 28
10 Likes