Redoubtable Downtown Space Abbey - The Leviathan Club

[penguinchris]

I left my Spartan Apartment and approached the Leviathan Club with the cloudy step that accompanies nervousness. I am a member, but had not spent much time at the Club since arriving in Weatherby. It had been some time since the dreadful classes at Madame Scallopini’s on small talk. In Weatherby, of course, one may reinvent themselves…

“Gentlesentients…”

A brief hesitation, and a wave a hot oil flashed through me with the embarrassment of realizing that either nobody had heard me, or everyone had ignored me. I gathered my strength and instead approached the bar. I rehearsed my line in my head a few times before signaling to Rumpthwaite.

“A glass of 0W-20, please. Make it a double.”

“Madam, we aim to provide for every need and desire of our members, and thus it pains me to inform you that we are unable to serve refreshments considered unusually harmful to a member’s species as declared in the member rolls. Being human, it is ill-advised for you to consume motor oil.”

I cocked my head slightly and put on a face which I hoped conveyed some appropriate emotion in response to this, while I thought of a graceful way to avoid further embarrassment.

“Yes, of course, you’ll forgive my lack of specificity but I was, of course, referring to 0W-20… whipweed oil?”

A worrying pause commenced.

“…Yes, madam. Right away.”

I made a valiant attempt at drinking the double of whipweed oil to bolster my confidence. I fear I instead bolstered the confidence of the spittoon, when I hoped that nobody was looking.

“Gentlesentients…”

I tried again.

“If you will excuse me for one small moment, I have something of some small interest to share. It seems that somebody misplaced this map in the secret hiding place under the floorboards of my Spartan Apartment. It may be nothing, but I thought perhaps someone here at the Club may find it of some interest. I will leave it with Rumpthwaite for members to inspect at their leisure. Good day, gentlesentients.”

I curtsied and exited promptly, hot oil seeming to burden each step, oil pumping so fast I could scarcely hear over the sound of the pump.

[Old]

[Franksenketchup enters the club and peers around through a spectrum-enhanced monocle]

Ah there you are Karekin Rothschild! Or rather Rothschild Karekin… Er is that Rothschild Anakin? Landau?

[Attempting to start again]

Old bean! There you are old bean!

[exaggerated winking]

[stage whisper so the better part of the common room of the club can hear]

About that smuggling business, I’m all in with you. I’ve got two lagoderms, a bale of whipweed, and a brace of sandfish under my waistcoat right now. If you’d smuggle me over to the bar, I’d gladly stand you a drink.

Haw, haw, haw, ha, ha, ho! [slaps Karekin on the back]

[and the laughter turns into a coughing fit which leaves Franksenketchup wheezing and teary-eyed]

[nimelennar]

St-Patrick-Hartbrooke tenses as he waits for a response from Farnsworth (@Wisconsin_Platt) ; surely he would get some sort of…

Well, he supposed stunned silence was a response. Not a very useful one, however.

Well, that should be fine, so long as…

No, Farekin (@David_Falkayn) wasn’t coming over to challenge the insult, either. Instead he was looking up something in a book and muttering to himself. Well, that at least should tell him that all of the thinly-veiled threats in his letters had not been meant in earnest; this would have been an excellent chance to demand satisfaction.

Ah, well. If Farekin wasn’t going to demand an apology, it at least should be worth a little more credit offered freely.

“If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Farnsworth; I do believe that I have behaved abominably, and must make the appropriate amends.”

Rising from his bench, St-Patrick-Hartbrooke makes his way over to where Karekin is standing, clasps his hands in front of him, and bows contritely.

“My dear Mr. Karekin; I have made a grievous error, and humbly beg your forgiveness. I have given deadly and false insult to your honour and your family’s, by my own most grievous fault,” on those three words, he thumps his fist against his chest three times, "and can offer no excuse or defense for my actions.

“Let it be known,” he turns to the room, raising his voice, “That I hold the Rothschild-Landau family, and Mr. Karekin here, in the highest esteem, and fully withdraw and disavow any slights I have made against them.”

More quietly again, “If that is not sufficient apology, please let me know; I shall make every effort to ensure that no insult remaining between we two shall remain unpaid. Please, do not answer now, but give it some thought as to what you might ask in recompense. For the moment, I must regretfully ask you to excuse my rudeness, but there is someone in attendance I simply must speak to.”

Disengaging from Karekin, St-Patrick-Hartbrooke makes his way towards the entrance. “Lady Jane (@penguinchris) ! It has been so long since Madam Scallopini’s; I am so glad to see you looking well and untroubled by the miasma hanging over Weatherby. How fares your family?”

[Old]

Rumpwalt, give me a look at that fisheries map if you please.

Hm…

Geometry never was my strong suit. Do you suppose these fish are to scale? They certainly look about right. The only thing that makes me suspect of the map’s authenticity is a paucity of reserves of cream of tartar. My land man assured me quite vehemently that they are found in perfect proportion. In any case, please express my thanks to Lady Jane @penguinchris when next she pops in. Strange one that, but clearly no fool.

Now lagoderms, I’m more up to snuff on. Attended a lecture on animal husbandry just last season. Not what I expected from the title, but useful information nonetheless.

Rumpwhite? Have you ever though to donate some saliva to science? You do have a wonderful jaw line, you know. A donation is as easy as spitting in a cup, and I’d handle the rest of it for you as a personal favor. It would be tax deductible as well.

Eh? Well, think about it anyway.

[Hadley]

Where did Lady Jane @penguinchris go off to? I was hoping to interview her about the map she found. I do not think it is a coincidence that this map appeared in her apartment.

[penguinchris]

Do you suppose these fish are to scale? They certainly look about right.

This is a fish that weighs 25 million pounds, so yes, I believe they are depicted to scale.

[penguinchris]

While attempting to exit the club, I heard a familiar voice.

“Lady Jane (@penguinchris) ! It has been so long since Madam Scallopini’s; I am so glad to see you looking well and untroubled by the miasma hanging over Weatherby. How fares your family?”

Ah! Greetings. Thank you for inquiring. I may happily report that my family and I are faring very well, miasma-free. I fear I’ve heard the news about your condition. I hope you are faring well despite and of course I hope for a swift recovery.

The unexpected interruption of my swift exit had the odd effect of cooling down my oil, and I felt more comfortable being in the club. I glanced towards the bar and noticed @Old and @Hadley examining the map. I overheard them discussing the size of the fish and stayed nearby, curious about their thoughts.

[David_Falkayn]

Jules approaches the bar, ebullient.

"@Rumpthwaite, have you heard the news? Capital News, old boy. Just Capital "

2,400£ HAS BEEN RAISED – NO MORE CONTRIBUTIONS ARE NEEDED !

Mayor Tidewell will be able to finance her entire program. This should do wonders to stabilize the upcoming elections. Let Weatherby’s Gracchi grouse their gripes. The electorate can be in no doubt about who is Fit to Lead.

1,277 < pleasing hum > @manwich
263 Mr. Julius Rothschild Karekin @David_Falkayn
250 Duchess Gummibunns @gwwar
250 Lady Jane @penguinchris
160 Elizabeth Mary Farnsworth VI
150 Aaaakzeee St-Patrick-Hartbrooke III
50 Lt. Erythro Brummell (ret)

What a day @Rumpthwaite, what a day!

[nimelennar]

"Thank you, Lady Jane (@penguinchris); I have seen postings for physicians about, and thus I am confident that my recovery shall soon be complete.

"As for the medical fund, it is, indeed, wonderful news. Let us raise a toast and a cheer for our friend with the abstract name, who single-handedly raised more than half of the required funds for the Mayor’s program.

"I do beg your pardon at my undoubtedly atrocious pronunciation, but:

“To <pleasing hum> (@manwich)!”

[Old]

Ah Lady Eau D’Ammonia, er rather Lady Oh Damn On Ya, [cough] I mean…

[Igor] I believe it’s Lady Ponsonby-Britt, Master. Eudaemonia Ponsonby-Britt @Nightflyer .

Yes, of course it is Igor, you marvelously malodorous monster, you. Stop trying to throw me off the scent of the good lady’s name.

Ah Lady Pomsonby-Brick. You’ve had a spot of luck at the races this season, I believe? Most hearty congratulations! I am afraid my own luck was not so great, but I have had a remarkable tip on this season’s race. “Southpaw”. Yes indeed. Recommended to me by my head breeder down at Weathership Dawns. That’s my lagoderm ranch, you know. Southpaw, why the very name invokes great bloodlines of the past. Old… what’s-it’s-name… and… that other one… who was very fast. Yes, quite fast that one was.

Speaking of bloodlines, I don’t suppose you have any to spare? Blood that is. Igor’s mother is terribly sick and needs some blood to cure her. Or really anything with DNA in it. Saliva, chunk of skin, flake of skin rather. Anything at all would help.

No? Ah well, she’s quite old already anyhow.

So, is it true that you too will be attending the badmitten soiree this season? How about a friendly warm up match. A little practice before these things never hurts.

Look I’ve brought a set I created at the lab last week. The pink ones are for me since I’m all left thumbs. What do you say? They’re truly bad, but they don’t bite that much. You’d probably hardly lose any DN… SKIN! You’d probably hardly lose any skin at all.

[MalevolentPixy]

Liv stands up from his table in the corner, laying down payment for his drink and a sizeable tip for @Rumpthwaite) . “Why, that is excellent news Mr. Karekin ( @David_Falkayn). Perhaps a photo of our philanthropic citizens with an accompanying write-up in the Weatherby Post-Ledger? We mustn’t allow such good peoples’ generosity to pass unnoticed.”

Retrieving his hat, he tips it to @Rumpthwaite before turning back to Karekin. “If you decide, please contact me at the Ledger and we can arrange for something suitable. Unfortunately, I must dash – mustn’t let down lady Justice on our watch. Such is the life of a publisher, after all.”

[Hadley]

Lady Elizabeth scuttles over to the bulletin board in the hall and quickly posts the following before retreating to the lounge

the Sea Teas flibbertigibbet
Newest publication on weatherby
Looking for leads
Rumors
All bits of gossip large and small

Give leads to rumpthwaite or send to @Hadley

[MrMonkey]

Jean-Rhys lingers for a moment in the portico of the Leviathan Club, absently fingering the controls of her brain chemistry regulators and trying to catch her “breath”. She’s been feeling a bit under the weatherby, lately, but she simply must see for herself this mysterious sandfisheries map that’s been the topic of so much idle speculation of late.

Composure gathered, she sweeps across the threshold, leaves her cape with the doorbot, and makes her way through the common room to the bar. As she settles onto the stool, crinoline creaking in complaint, Rumpthwait appears unbidden and inclines his antlers in inquiry.

“What ho, Rumpthwait. I’ll have a cup of spiced tea, with lagoderm milk and two sugars, if you please, for my throat. And I’ll also have a dram of your finest Single Molt Scooch, for my constitution.”

As Rumpthwait departs to prepare her beverages, the common room erupts in a rousing, heartfelt toast to the sentient of the hour.

“To <pleasing hum> (@manwich)!”

Jean-Rhys has heard of <pleasing hum>'s generous donation to Mayor Tidewell’s Plague Expidition, of course, but lacking a drink of her own, she cannot properly join in the toast, alas.

She is idly perusing the latest posts pinned to the Club’s bulletin board when Rumpthwait returns with her libations. She thanks him and, her interest in the fisheries map momentarily forgotten, casually takes a seat in the lounge near Lady Elizabeth (@Hadley). Delicately slurping her tea through her bio-filters, Jean-Rhys begins to muse aloud, seemingly to herself, but with volume sufficient that bystanders might overhear (should they be so bold as to acknowledge doing so, even unto themselves).

“That <pleasing hum> fellow is a fair intriguing sentient, surely. The altruistic spirit required to commit the full extent of one’s resources to a charity mission is scarcely comprehensible, yet that is somehow precisely what they’ve done. It’s truly inspiring. In fact, one can’t help but emulate their example,”

[you feel generous]

“even if it is merely a meaningless gesture in the face of such largesse.”

“And yet…”

“The devilish shifting, flashing nature of its present planar manifestation suggests a certain temporal indeterminacy, as if <pleasing hum> is only lightly tethered to the here-and-now. Its overwhelming contribution could be merely a ruse to discourage sufficient investment by others, such that when this timeline is edited and it’s true allocation revealed, the mission to Brittania Prime will have failed, and the plague will have continued to ravage <pleasing hum>'s social rivals.”

“Of course, such subterfuge is unimaginable of one recorded in the rolls of the Leviathan Club, and in any case, the die is cast; it’s best to put such abhorrent thoughts quickly out of mind.” Either way, she thinks to herself, it’s a bold move, and silently toasts the being with a warm, smokey sip of her Scooch.

[Nightflyer]

I thank you for the invitation, my dear Doctor, but I’m afraid I must decline the use of your gloves. I believe I’m allergic to the… wool? Or is that fur? that they’re made of. I do appreciate your generosity, of course.

[Hadley]

Well my dear Jean-Rhys @MrMonkey If pleasing hum is not so teathered to this world then what world do you think he/she/it is tethered to?

The sentient does seem to be a bit neither here nor there.

[daneel]

I’m not sure how pleasant that hum is any more. It seems a bit dissonant.

[Hadley]

Oh my dear Jean-Rhys @MrMonkey this is just what you predicted. What do you know about the evil hum that the rest of us do not know. I have an incline that you know something about he/she/its past.

[Hadley]

Dutchess gummibunns @gwwar
I am so sorry for injuring you at croque. Sometimes my powerful lizard limbs just get the better of me and I don’t know my own strength. Please tell me how I can make it up to you.

[gwwar]

Like, it’s just badminton and gravity, Lady Elizabeth @Hadley. No cause for alarm. I knew the risks of playing with, like, genital sentients with varying strength. After all, I accidentally beaned poor Sir Reginald @ghoti as well! Now excuse, me while I read the papers. I appear to be quite behind after taking ill.

[ Duchess Gummibuns reads, and begins to cough more and more violently as she absorbs the news. She remains silent, and appears to be in a conflicting mood. Her lumps seem to undulate more often than normal. ]

[ cough cough cough ] Perhaps, we all need a good stiff drink, right?

[ She orders something that burns too strongly, and tosses a few pounds to @Rumpthwaite instead of beans. ]

Now, a drink for everyone, who’s feeling a bit under the weather! Too bad we don’t have real doctors and medicine, but we make do.

[ Duchess Gummibuns slides a 100£ note across the bar. ]

@Rumpthwaite This should cover it, shouldn’t it?

[ghoti]

[ Rounder enters the club, coughing and holding a handkerchief over his mouth ]

Ah! Duchess Gummibuns @gwwar ! Lovely to see you again. Quite a rousing badminton game we had! My eye is on the mend, thanks, just a few more days with the eyepatch according to my physician, but I just can’t seem to shake this cough. Sorry to see you’ve come down with it as well. A stiff drink should help ease the pain!

[ He brings the handkerchief up to his mouth in time for another series of hacking coughs ]

Speaking of which, Rumpthwaite, perhaps you could see your way to pouring me a large whatever might dull the pain and calm the noise. Thank you for the drink, Duchess!

Ah, and there is Miss Ponsonby-Britt @Nightflyer. I really must extend my apologies once again for my poor aim during our badminton match.