Redoubtable Downtown Space Abbey - Turn 6 - A Young Sentient's Fancy

Balls.

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[GM Note: The fine auditors from Price Watermoose Cooper have completed their audit. Player stats have been reviewed and corrected, dance outcomes have been updated and should now represent reality. Should any questions still linger, please bring them to my attention at once. Player Database will be updated later today and with luck I should still have the turn options posted later this evening. Thank you all for your patience throughout this unexpected difficulty :face_with_monocle:]

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The Capstanturnbuckle’s have always stood upon the Gibraltar of their deeds and honor. That such frippary should be necessary to succeed waxes my desire to have the heaving deck plates of a solar-sailed skip beneath my boot shod claws once again. A proper man of military, of exploration, should need not more than a Spartan apartment in which to hang his hammock.

Alas, these times are different, and I’m afraid old lobsters who still wear their bicorns amidships with properly clubbed antennae are the ones being left behind.

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St-Patrick-Hartbrooke looks upon the drafts he has written on foolscap, reading over the phrasing, making sure that all the levels of subtext that he intends are there (and, more importantly, that there is no subtext present that he doesn’t intend). Satisfied, he dips his pen into his inkwell and begins writing, with careful, restrained calligraphy, three thank you notes: one to each of the nice young Citizen-Pretender who allowed in the honour of a dance the previous evening, and another to Ms. Applethwaite, for the invitation to dine at her table.

When the letters are complete, he signs each in a manner much less restrained and careful, blots them to assist the ink in drying, and then folds them a moment later after they are dry.

Taking the letter for Ms. Applethwaite in hand, the gentlebird reflects upon dinner. He had been surprised, despite plans being clearly available in the Public Ledger, that he had been the only member of Leviathan’s at Ms. Applethwaite’s table. True to his expectations of himself, he had acquainted himself well in matters of etiquette and protocol, and Ms. Applethwaite had acted quite taken with him… however, she obviously wasn’t quite so taken, since he had not, as so many others had, been handed an invitation to the next occasion at her salon.

It is difficult to say why he did not make the cut, but, as no other members of the Leviathan Club were present, perhaps one had to be truly extraordinary to be seen as deserving such an elevation in social standing. Alas, it seems it was simply not to be. The letter he had written to the salonnière was intended to be charming but formal, clearly acknowledging the difference in rank between them, and expressing gratitude that someone like her would have deigned to share a table with someone like him, as plainly and rigidly worded as possible to avoid any double meanings or assumptions of familiarity. Of the three, this was the letter he’d laboured most upon, because sending a poorly-written thank-you letter to someone who values etiquette above all else is even worse than the already unforgivable sin of not sending such a letter at all.

On the opposite end of the spectrum was the letter he’d basically dashed off with barely a thought, the letter for the charming Miss Rockingham. The Grand March was a fairly simple dance, and certainly not known for its romantic undertones, but Miss Rockingham had seemed content with him as a dance partner, so far as one could be in the March, and he didn’t recall seeing her with another partner in the later dances. In this letter, most of the Space Griffin’s effort had gone into avoiding any promises or talk of the future, while laying some small flatteries and making it clear that he was still interested. He had tried to leave out any subtext of “until someone better comes along,” but it was nearly impossible to do so entirely without saying things that couldn’t be taken back if, or when, someone better did come along.

In the middle between rigid perfection and careless charm was the letter he wrote to Miss Penumbra, with whom he had enjoyed a rousing Double Quadrille. She had not seemed hesitant to post with him (and certainly, some of that was his own fault, as it had been ages since he’d danced a quadrille, but some he blamed on his still-healing injuries from the duel…)…

As his mind reflects on the duel, the light seems to dim in the room, and St-Patrick-Hartbrooke’s thoughts become caught up in replaying that last, cryptic message before the final round. What had it meant? Should he have stayed? Could he have stopped…

As his fists clench, he feels the smoothness of the paper in his hands and comes back to the moment, noting with relief that he has not managed to crease the paper, which would require him to redo all of the carefully-wrought calligraphy. What had he been… enthusiasm, that’s right. Miss Penumbra had not seemed enthusiastic about their dance as they had parted, but he certainly seemed to have done a better job impressing her than Commander Capstanturnbuckle. In fact, she had seemed the happiest after dancing with Mr. Dipswitch; Aaaakzeee was considering — not seriously, of course — buying some of that fake medicine that the Space Feline had been drinking as if it were wine; it seemed to have worked wonders for Dipswitch’s ability to dance.

The letter to Miss Penumbra, of course, had to project a higher level of interest than the one to Miss Rockingham, as he actually wanted not only to keep her attention, but to draw it away from his new, drug-addled, adversary. However, it mustn’t seem in any way desperate; he wanted to leave a small bit of the inference that he was keeping his options open, while at the same time dropping tantalizing hints that he didn’t think someone better would come along. All of the nuance and subtext that he had been holding back on in the other two letters flowed through, and he was quite proud of the end result. There was nothing improper, of course, but he suggested a depth of feeling here that he had toned down in his letter to his other dance partner and omitted entirely in the one to his dinner host.

As he started to heat the wax to seal the letters, his eyes fell on the fourth, blank parchment he’d prepared. Of course, he would not be sending a letter to Miss Copse; sending anything at all would be seen as an act of desperation, given the complete lack of attention she had shown him. It stung, that he had not been able to gain her interest, but given Ms. Honeyvenom as his competition, he wasn’t surprised. Perhaps he should have selected Miss Copse for the Quadrille rather than the Waltz. Perhaps not, though; he might have lost both dance partners.

With a shudder, St-Patrick-Hartbrooke looks back the moment of profound disappointment he’d felt when he’d thought two of his preferred dance partners had rejected him. He probably wouldn’t have been in such high spirits now, if that had happened. Thankfully, it had all been a miscommunication. No, better to look upon the present than to dwell on possible pasts. God was still with him, as evidenced by the success in his endeavours and his improving health, and he would continue along the path that he had been placed on.

Speaking of the present, the wax has presently melted. The Taaa’keee carefully seals and addresses each of the three envelopes, and leaves them in his “Out” box to be sent off to their intended recipients.

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Liz blushes.Then she leans and against window frame and smiles slightly as she drinks the gift. If only this was a different time and place

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“A Citizen Pretender’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.”

– Jane Clawsten, Pincers and Pinchability

Turn Deadline: Sun Mar 25 @ 5pm EDT


Salon season is in full swing, but the members of Leviathan’s are plumb smitten with the rememberances of the ball and determined to pursue their desires accordingly.

Please note - given the options available this round, the spring of 2419 presents a remarkable opportunity to take advantage of submitting private orders to @Bartlebot. One may certainly wish to commit one’s intentions to the Public Ledger, but the advantage of a quiet move submitted off the record cannot be underestimated.


Turn-specific events

Meanwhile, one might expect the following:

Turn 6 plague progress: Very Good chance for any existing condition to improve, Poor chance for it to worsen instead.
Turn 6 risks: Fair chance for any ‘sketchy’ tract to be contested in court by Weatherby’s Barristers. Contested deeds have an Good chance of being resolved in favor of the current owner, otherwise prior claims are discovered by the courts and ownership of the tract will be transferred to a random household.
Turn 6 special risk: Vanishing chance of experiencing a catastrophic encounter.

Noblesse Oblige

Optional: With the recent coverage in the Space Times that working classes have managed a meager but respectable collection in order to construct an orphanage, common sense dictates that the better classes should address the shortfall of public services within the city at once. Any number of collections are immediately organized to be made toward any number of worthy causes. One may donate to any combination of causes in any amount as one sees fit, naturally assuming one can support such a set of donations.

For example:

DONATE 3 400

Option 1: Donate to the construction of a grammar school: The next generation must be instructed in the fine arts of reading, writing, and rhetoric. Why in time, it may rival even Excelsior Hall!

  • Benefits: PER+2 and Rank+20 per 100£ donated. School to be named after the largest contributor.

Option 2: Donate to the construction of a public park: The open spaces are so inviting in all seasons. Let us endeavor to set aside a space for all citizens of Weatherby to enjoy blossoms of spring, the sultry summer evenings, and the charming decay of autumn.

  • Benefits: FSH+2 and Rank+20 per 100£ donated. Park to be named after the largest contributor.

Option 3: Donate to the construction of a trade school: A traditional path for the bright and eager to enhance their standing. By pairing young minds with lifelong masters, skills may be enhanced to the benefit off all. Benjamin Wheatly himself would be proud.

  • Benefits: BUS+2 and Rank+20 per 100£ donated. School to be named after the largest contributor.

Option 4: Donate to the construction of a public library: Ah, the hallowed halls of learning and introspection. Weatherby University may cater to the academics, but even young minds delight to hear a stirring tale of adventure in a far off land.

  • Benefits: EDU+2 and Rank+20 per 100£ donated. Library to be named after the largest contributor.

Military Service

With the potential threat of a resurgent New Prussia, the Queen herself has authorized the purchase of an official commission in the local forces. Purchasing a commission is a one-time payment that allows one to immediately assume the appropriate rank. Each subsequent rank is incremental instead of cumulative, that is to say: moving from the rank of Ensign to the rank of Lieutenant in the Space Hussars will cost an additional 250£ and yield an additional bonus of MIL+3 an Rank+15. This option will remain available for at least the next 12 months (i.e. at least through Turn 9). For example:

Commission Ensign Space Dragoons
Commission Space Hussars MIL bonus RANK bonus Space Dragoons MIL bonus RANK bonus
Ensign 450£ 4 20 840£ 8 80
Lieutenant 700£ 7 35 1190£ 12 120
Captain 1800£ 18 90 3225£ 32 320
Major 3200£ 32 160 4575£ 44 440
Lt. Colonel 4500£ 45 225 6175£ 60 600

Courtship

Thoughts are filled with gentle gestures and coy conversations. One should continue to pursue a potential pair bond with all possible haste against the encroachment of a potential rival. One may continue to demonstrate affection for any dance partner from the ball or alter one’s focus entirely. Heartfelt letters will be written with honesty, forthrightness, and dignity. One may write up to two Citizen Pretenders with increasing levels of interest. For example:

Write 1 Jasper Rawhide  (indicating a level of honest but guarded interest)
Write 2 Madeline Penumbra (indicating a level of intrigue and fascination)

Outcomes will be modified by PER only during this phase. One will have an advantage with any Citizen Pretenders that were pleased to share a dance with you at the ball, but rivals may yet win the attention of any potential sweetheart with a few well placed words. The list of Citizen Pretenders available for courtship may be found in the program you’ve kept as a memento of the evening of dance. Next season, you will expect to take a moment to call upon the recipient of your first letter and to stroll through the Weatherby Botanical Gardens with the recipient of your second letter.

Name                              Likes                        Dislikes
@Tom_Ratchetcrank                 ???                          ???
@liversnaps-grayson               ???                          ???
@Qaaxtzl                          ???                          ???
@Rockford_Julius                  ???                          ???
@Chewseen                         ???                          ???
@Ssskidwish                       ???                          ???
@Eighth                           ???                          ???
Mary Flowers (Space Moose)        FSH, Income                  MIL
Johann Wentworth (Space Human)    PER, BUS                     FSH
Oblate Spheroid (Geometer)        MIL, BUS                     EDU
Harriet Codsworth (Space Piscean) Income, PER                  FSH
Henry Argyle (Space Human)        Rank, EDU                    BUS
Jasper Milkthistle (Space Human)  PER, FSH                     Rank
Melisande Copse (Space Moose)     Rank, FSH                    Income
James Riptide (Space Lobster)     MIL, Rank                    PER
Lizzy Heliotrope (Holographic)    EDU, Income                  MIL
Madeline Penumbra (Space Human)   FSH, PER                     BUS
Cassie Oceana (Space Lobster)     Income, Rank                 EDU
Richard Forester (Space Moose)    BUS, EDU                     PER
Jasper Rawhide (Space Canine)     EDU, Income                  FSH
Margaret Rockingham (Space Human) EDU, PER                     BUS
Zoë Thistleheart (Space Lizard)   Income, Rank                 EDU
Charlotte Branchwit (Space Moose) FSH, MIL                     PER

Place Wagers

Optional: One may choose to wager on this season’s Lagoderm race. Merely select a promising creature from the Sports & Leisure section and also indicate the size of the wager. Example:

Wager Hamdinger 100

Rent:

Optional: One may procure personal quarters within the city at the current market rate. Any change of quarters comes with an additional 25£ fee for moving services. Each improvement represents a move to a better neighborhood with a more impressive address. Example:

Rent Spartan apartment

The following neighborhoods are available for rent.

Nature of Quarters          Upkeep                Effect     Neighborhood       
--------------------        --------------       ---------- --------------
Spartan apartment            75£ per turn         +50 rank  Ten Path
Modest apartment            200£ per turn         +75 rank  Paddingdown
Proper apartment            400£ per turn        +150 rank  St. Marrowbone
Fashionable apartment       700£ per turn        +300 rank  Dragoon Mews
Luxurious apartment        1200£ per turn        +500 rank  Whipweed Place

Although the plague continues to abate, several useful medicines are still available for purchase by popular demand:

 5£ Dr. Arbuckle's Whipweed Tonic Wine
10£ Ms. Merrimoose's Soothing Syrup
15£ Franklin Gooseberry's Remarkable Colloidal Seryl
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Might I ask, as a point of clarification, whether one might donate to multiple causes?

What good is it, I ask, if you teach a young sentient to read, but do not provide them any suitable material to peruse in their leisure time?

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What a lumping dance party!!! Like this is totally how my love story begins, isn’t it? A Grand March, a Double Quarille, and then that lumping sweet Waltzzz! It was better than a hot can of beans!

Like, I mean, I could have sworn I took a break for sandwiches, but those temporal glitches! You never know when these timelines collapse. This is for sure the best timeline, where I’m extra hot and sizzling. You know I should totally write a book about how I’m hot. It’d be like a best seller. And then maybe I could give out tips and junk! So everyone can like dance like me! They’d get so popular~~~

But getting sick was SO eye opening! I gotta live life! Hoarding all that money didn’t really make me happy. Spending it does! I am living my best life.

[ Dutchess Gummibuns finally reads the papers, having failed to do so in any timely manner. ]

Oh, my Glob, you guys, drama bomb! Like, I totally thought that cube was just boring and skipped the ball! BUT…

dead

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One may certainly donate to multiple causes! It is only fit and proper that a landed estate support any individual cause to varying degrees as befit the interests of the household.

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This military commission - can we purchase commissions for other people?

Obviously, there’s nothing so base as a salary associated with the position, but is there a pension?

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Excellent! That is what I expected, but when one cannot make multiple investments or multiple wagers in a season, one feels the need to ask.

Thank you.

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Most certainly not! Purchasing a commission means in essences that your financial backing directly results in the support and maintenance of a body of soldiers of the appropriate size. You yourself are considered in command of that body of soldiers should they ever be called up to service.

No salary per se, but when command of the unit is relinquished under proper circumstances naturally, one will receive that invested measure back in full as a pension. In the meantime, one may look forward to all the respect and glory that such a position entails.

Also, it is worth mentioning that a lateral promotion from the Space Hussars of the Weatherbean Army to the Dragoons of the Weatherbean Space Navy is also possible if one can afford the differential. Although it may be said that the Dragoons never quite look upon an officer coming up from dirtside in quite the same way as one of their own, as one might recognize.

ETA: Additional Q&A regarding military commissions can be found in the Players Handbook

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“Okay, everybody, listen up. Word out there is that even if New Prussia isn’t getting ready to invade, we’re getting ready for them. That could mean conscription orders. If you get them, bring them to me… I can’t guarantee we’ll get out of this in one piece, but we can certainly try.” A nervous laugh runs through the newsroom, but everyone in it knows the truth: the Crown doesn’t care about Pretenders as anything other than cannon-fodder. The best they can hope for is an officer that thinks otherwise.

As far as that goes, he calls a meeting of his most trusted editors and reporters. His hands are shaking worse than at the Ball, and there’s not enough water on the entire planet to ease his dry throat. But this is the right thing to do, the only fair thing to do.

“Given current events, there’s likely a story coming that could hit us hard. If we can’t get out ahead of it, I don’t want you getting blindsided. I don’t know how this is going to shake out, or when, for that matter, but I think you have the right to know.” With that, he tells them the story. There’s silence through the entire thing and a little bit afterwards, before Skrissh confirms some of Liv’s earlier suspicions with a wisecrack. Liv bows his head, acknowledging the hit, and most of the tension dissipates from the room. He wishes he could tell them (and himself) that it will be okay, but there’s no way to know that. He hardly even dares hope.

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The drums of war beat louder, we all can hear it yet some insist in filling their ears with the pretty ayres of waltzes. I for one cannot do so. Capstanturnbuckles have been bred for action since time immemorial.

I shall have no use for my current opulent quarters, the funds saved can be spent on the improvement of Weatherby!

Rent Spartan Apartment

I once flew the Yellow Pennant as Commodore, now I find myself an Ensign. So be it, Duty before Pride.

Reinstate Ensign Hussars

Though I am not without means, and command is in my blood, so

Purchase Commission Space Dragoon Lieutenant

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Young Tom’s face pales

Right, back to the ol’ hammock I go.

Oooookay, off to the front it is then. Jolly good, sigh. Ah wells, maybe bein’ his valet I can strike up a deal with the Quarter Master, set aside a little something for when we come hom…

Ah cr@9. I’m dead.

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The military, eh?

Brummell had left before when he was posted to an unfashionable system. And it had been such a long time since he had been a Cornet.

At least his holographic nature meant he didn’t need to worry about fitting back into his old uniform.

Although he still had his doubts about the nature of the New Prussian threat. And now there was that delightful dance partner to consider.

Still, needs must. @Qaaxtzl! Fetch my trunk out of storage!

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Automatic door sliding silently aside, Damerl stepped onto the darkened and still bridge of his latest ship. Sliding a hand along the control panel to bring up the lights he felt the smooth precision of the finely crafted helm. ‘She’s a fine ship,’ he thought, ‘small, but quick.’ Even with the main reactors on cool he could feel her deck plates practically surging to break free of gravity, to race across the stars.

‘To what use shall you be? A ship of war or one to explore?’ His thoughts turned to the building tensions; would there be war with New Prussia? He could not tell, the motivations of those who fancied themselves the leaders of society had always baffled him. What matter the fleeting admiration gained for a night of wearing the latest togs? He looked upon his now antiquated patent boots- they still served well. Who cared what street your calling card named, did they not all lead to the same places? Was it not only the stars that promised freedom, where a sentient could truly test himself and find his measure? But no, those were not the ways here, and the lobster he was could not do but to defend this place and its sometimes foolish ways.

Of their forming military he reflected proudly though; those who had been tested in battle before had been the first to step forwards, and had given as much as they could to fund the outfitting of the troops. And old Frankenbeans, who would have known the madman had such experience?

No, no sentient could know what was to come, but this Damerl knew- no place rich as Weatherby could go forever without having to defend itself. An involuntary shudder ran down his carapace as he recalled the slaughter of the colonies on Nephropidae 3 and 7, they too had the arrogance to ignore a looming threat and instead walzted into annihilation.

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Liv, I hear you have a big scoop you are working on. Care to share?

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“Now, Lady Elizabeth,” Unlike his smile when he attempted to comfort her after the disaster of a ball, this one was more a baring of the teeth than anything indicating sympathy or warmth, “surely you realise that the nature of our business isn’t to share. I am hardly going to betray the hard work and loyalty my staff give to me simply because not enough freelancers have decided to offer their services.” He doesn’t add the part out loud that those who can afford to work at the rates she pays can’t also afford to do the kind of investigative work that full-time paid reporters can. So what if his best churn out two or three good stories a year – those stories are doozies and have given the Post-Ledger the reputation it has. A freelancer (especially one selling to Lady Elizabeth) has neither the time, nor money – or if they do, they unlikely have the motivation – to seek out the kind of stories she seems to crave. “I am sure you realise that the Ledger is always chasing stories, so I can’t possibly comment, even if I knew what you were talking about. As for ideas we’ve chosen not to pursue, surely you don’t want someone else’s leftovers for your dinner, do you?”

Do your own damn work, he thinks. The nerve to simply ask him to hand it over. He thinks suddenly about what he told her that morning after the ball. At least if I didn’t dance with anyone, it was by choice. It’s a nasty thought to be certain, but he suddenly feels his blood becoming as cold as hers. Either she really is the airhead she seems, or the entire thing is an act to get people to let down their guard and be manipulated until they can’t see straight. Option one, and she needs a few more good knocks before she realises that the world hands itself to nobody. Option two and it’s all the more reason not to play her game.

He sighs. “@Rumpthwaite, some hot water, please.” The galaxy is going to run out of willows before he runs out of headaches at this rate.

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I will devise something pun-ishing, I’m sure!

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