La Maison Soloumbre: Evening of April 10th

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Glim
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Post by Glim »

"Then what are you thoughts on the matter, Father, if I may be so bold?"
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

The Shadowcloak chews over this question for a minute or so, then says, "Bringing two nominally identical elements which are out of phase into phase requires a considerable expenditure of magical energy; a practitioner who can safely manage such an outflow is probably powerful enough, and certainly ought to be wise enough, to maintain some deliberate asynchrony between the two elements for a length of time sufficient for any ordinary purpose. Careful calculation ought to allow generation of two waveforms which do not collapse into one. Your remarks on the nature of time deserve a fuller exegesis than your colleagues really desire, so I will reserve further remarks on that subject." The Shadowcloak smiles thinly as he makes this last remark--he is, apparently, quite aware that most of the audience probably didn't even try to follow his lecture.
[b]FEAR JUSTICE.[/b] :elena:
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Post by Pamela »

Gertrude was lulled by the flow of the presentation until the Shadowcloak began to consider whatever new twist had arisen in his theory. At that point, she came out of her half-dazed trance to realise that she really had no clue as to what was being said. She grabbed valiantly at the snatches of words that he offered, hoping that they might offer some insight but she finally gave up. May as well enjoy the pretty illusions, she thought wryly, but she was only half-hearted in her self-criticism. It was becoming clear that she was hardly alone in her stymied state.

She watched the three-dimensional transformation of the lines into human shapes. Is this how we seem, as we move through time? The images, and the idea touched her deeply, as she recalled her mother’s whimsical childhood tale that every star was a soul that had risen and progressed. Even in darkness, look up, and you will see those who seem farthest from us, encouraging us on. And there we too will shine, someday, calling others to their true destiny.

With a pang, she watched the abrupt dismissal of the image and chided her nostalgic indulgence. As Mikkelson began to speak, a small smile settled on her lips. From comets blazing trails of glory to the undead. Quite a bit of a jump. Or letdown, a treacherous voice whispered. Still, she focused her attention on the continuing, intelligible lecture. It was an interesting use of illusion, but she wondered how effective it would be against van Rijn. The traitor had jackalweres on his side, and they most certainly weren’t undead; neither were the turncoats in the Fraternity. She wondered idly if any of these illusions had been practiced here in Souragne, which certainly wasn’t short of test subjects.

The professor waited for someone to present questions. She had hoped to be able to present a couple herself, but the most pertinent one- “Could you explain in simpler language what you were talking about just now?”- was also the last she'd ever admit publicly. When the Rajian began to criticize Shadowcloak, however, she sat up straight in her chair for the first time since the lecture began. Insane or stupid, which is it, she thought with some amusement. Still, she wasn’t expecting to understand much of his question, expecting him to be as obtuse as the Father had been.

Therefore she was quite stunned when Shadiir began to speak in clear language about about traveling in time, both in the future and the past. What identical elements? She wondered to herself at the mottled man’s technical jargon. Two selves, of different time periods? Blessed sun…

The possibility was both thrilling but also chilling. The righting of wrongs; the fulfillment of a lost opportunity for revenge: everyone had a moment that they wished they could revisit for a wide range of reasons. It was human to want to do such a thing. But to actually do it? What would be done- and undone- by such a feat? Her mind began to rebel against the collision and possible union of two universes- one real, one potential. Time was linear. Or at least, it used to be, in her own mind. But now, she saw again the single line which had expanded, deepened, and gained shape and meaning. And she was stunned at a possibility that she was barely able to see, let alone comprehend.
His only real danger is if stupidity is contagious and lethal. In which case, we’re all dead…-Gertrude
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

As the Shadowcloak gives his answer a brother--the Invidian Marko Kaspan--enters through the great Dementlieuse window from the promenade deck, soaking wet. He mutters something and gestures, and the water sheets from his clothing; now dry, or nearly, he approaches the dias. Mikkelson stands and goes to the edge of the dias, and the two converse briefly.

Turning to the assembled Brothers, Mikkelson says, "Brothers, I am afraid that we have bad news regarding the weather. The road is presently impassable, and will in all likelihood remain so until tomorrow afternoon or evening, even if the rain abates. I am afraid those who were lodging elsewhere must make arrangements to sleep here for the night. If there are further questions?...Not at present? The silver lining to this black cloud (gesturing slightly to the windows, where lightning flickers as if in response) will be ample opportunity for continued discussion. Please make whatever arrangements you find necessary. Our official meetings now adjourn until the morrow."
[b]FEAR JUSTICE.[/b] :elena:
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Post by Glim »

Shadiir will head into the garden with a borrowed umbrella and checks on his tent. Hailing from a land of the monsoon, he's pretty good with the tent-rain combination, and he's back in without getting too wet or muddy. In a lavatory nearby he cleans himself up a bit, then heads out into a vacant study to prepare some letters, if he doesn't get held up in the ballroom.

He'll keep an eye out for the Shadowcloak, if the paranoid Father permits to be encountered, and also for Piere Lacomte, for the Rajian has plans concerning Port-a-Lucine.
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Post by Rotipher of the FoS »

The bard's amusement at the Invidian's profligate use of magic to rid his drenched garments of water -- So, men like him think they can operate under Souragnien prohibitions against wizardry, when spells are their first answer to even minor discomfort? Good luck with that endeavor! -- abates as Mikkelson makes his announcement. Realizing that he won't be leaving the estate for the night, as he'd planned, Crow silently curses this sodden Island's miserable weather, and the distasteful company it's forcing him to keep.

On the other hand, this does mean that Van Rijn's agent, if present, is as trapped as the VRS spy! With any luck, the traitor's ally will find this turn of events unsettling, and betray himself; with a bit more, the enemy spy will do so when Crow is on hand to observe his error, and catch his opposite red-handed.

(Whether or not Crow deigns to tell the FoS officers -- or Buchvold, his own grudging ally -- should he observe such a lapse, depends entirely on whether such a revelation serves his own agenda of destroying the Doomsday Device plans, rather than retrieving them.)

First, however, the bard must see to his own pretense. Rising to his feet as the audience disperses, he glances out the back windows at the rising storm, grimaces in distaste, and runs a protective hand over the not-very-waterproof-looking seams of his guitar-case. Turning his back upon the night's fury, he scans the crowd of departing Brethren, as if in search of a familiar face ... just whose, exactly, depending on which of his recent FoS acquaintances he happens to catch the attention of, first.
"Who [u]cares[/u] what the Dark Powers are? They're [i]bastards![/i] That's all I need to know of them." -- Crow
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Post by Moral Machivelli »

Of all the luck. and me without a tent Buchvold fumed to himself.

Oh well, I'll find a way to keep occupied
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

As the crowd begins to stir and the brothers present begin to arrange their accomodations, Gertrude finds the Countess von Lovenhorst at her elbow.

"So tiresome," she says, although her words are belied by a small smile. "It was inevitable, I suppose; a place with roads like this. Would you care to join me in my suite, Professor Kingsley? Space will be at a premium, and obviously the number of those with whom we can share a room without scandal is not large."
[b]FEAR JUSTICE.[/b] :elena:
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

Glim wrote: He'll keep an eye out for the Shadowcloak, if the paranoid Father permits to be encountered, and also for Piere Lacomte, for the Rajian has plans concerning Port-a-Lucine.
Shadowcloak disappears from the dias with startling rapidity, going out the door into the rain before most of the brothers present have risen from their seats. Shadiir has better luck with finding Exalted Brother Lacomte, who is busy re-hashing the Shadowcloak's lecture with an elderly brother wearing Dementlieuse clothing but with a hawk brand on his forehead.

"Ah! Help arrives," Lacomte says as he sees Shadiir approach. "Brother...ah...forgive an old man a lapse of memory! You are a mathematician by training, is that not correct? Might we prevail on you to offer your insights into Father Shadowcloak's...erudite...discourse?"
[b]FEAR JUSTICE.[/b] :elena:
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Post by Glim »

The Rajian cannot help but smile at Lacomte's first words. I must've made at least somewhat of an impression. Now only to find out if it's negative or not. He approaches the two and when asked for his insights he will make a small bow in the tradition of his homeland. "Doctor Tuyuz, currently professing at the university of Tvasthri." then "Why yes, of course."

"First however, you have got to introduce me to Brother ..." The Rajian says, as he extends his hand towards who he presumes is no other than Marcos Vedarrak, while mentally focussing on not staring at the man's national mark.

After being introduced, he turns to Lacomte again and awaits the man's questions.
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Post by Pamela »

Gertrude was almost relieved when the drenched Brother interrupted the questioning. The forecast was hardly unexpected but she was nonetheless discomfited by the idea of spending the night in the Maison. The idea of being unable to leave was something she never enjoyed, and an irrational thought flickered at the possibility that the storm wasn't completely natural. She shrugged it aside, but was still uneasy.

As the others began to disperse, she began to consider her next move. Her plan to approach the Shadowcloak would certainly have to wait. It would only be polite and wise to make some reference to his lecture and she was ill-equipped to provide any observations that he would consider intelligent and worthy of his consideration or estimation. Her disappointment was lightly, almost unconsciously, tinged with a sense of relief that she didn't let herself grasp.

She noticed Crow, who seemed to be waiting for someone, and smiled, curious to know if he'd made any more sense of the discussion than she had. He at least would not mock her ignorance. Her mental debate about whether to approach was halted when the Countess approached. She turned to the blonde with a warm smile and gladly replied, "I would appreciate it, thank you. Mind you," she remarked teasingly, "I recall that Lamordia's roads aren't exactly much better when the thaw begins."
His only real danger is if stupidity is contagious and lethal. In which case, we’re all dead…-Gertrude
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

Glim wrote:The Rajian cannot help but smile at Lacomte's first words. I must've made at least somewhat of an impression. Now only to find out if it's negative or not. He approaches the two and when asked for his insights he will make a small bow in the tradition of his homeland. "Doctor Tuyuz, currently professing at the university of Tvasthri." then "Why yes, of course."

"First however, you have got to introduce me to Brother ..." The Rajian says, as he extends his hand towards who he presumes is no other than Marcos Vedarrak, while mentally focussing on not staring at the man's national mark.

After being introduced, he turns to Lacomte again and awaits the man's questions.
"Esteemed Brother Armande Dupin," Lacomte says, and the gentleman indicated stands and offers his hand to Tuyuz, smiling faintly. "A pleasure, Brother Tuyuz," he says. "I confess, I have not made so deep a study of the queen of the sciences as to penetrate the depths of Father Shadowcloak's presentation, as you seem to have done. Might you elucidate, in layman's terms, your gloss on his intended meaning?"

OOC: Feel free to make mathematical jargon up in your reply, Glim. You've got the basics of what Shadowcloak said, so you can play with that a bit.
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

Llana wrote:Gertrude was almost relieved when the drenched Brother interrupted the questioning. The forecast was hardly unexpected but she was nonetheless discomfited by the idea of spending the night in the Maison. The idea of being unable to leave was something she never enjoyed, and an irrational thought flickered at the possibility that the storm wasn't completely natural. She shrugged it aside, but was still uneasy.

As the others began to disperse, she began to consider her next move. Her plan to approach the Shadowcloak would certainly have to wait. It would only be polite and wise to make some reference to his lecture and she was ill-equipped to provide any observations that he would consider intelligent and worthy of his consideration or estimation. Her disappointment was lightly, almost unconsciously, tinged with a sense of relief that she didn't let herself grasp.

She noticed Crow, who seemed to be waiting for someone, and smiled, curious to know if he'd made any more sense of the discussion than she had. He at least would not mock her ignorance. Her mental debate about whether to approach was halted when the Countess approached. She turned to the blonde with a warm smile and gladly replied, "I would appreciate it, thank you. Mind you," she remarked teasingly, "I recall that Lamordia's roads aren't exactly much better when the thaw begins."
"Oh, yes," the Countess replies. "One of the many reasons spring finds me in Port-a-Lucine almost every year. I suppose with the sudden change in the weather you've brought little; do you have anything to take upstairs? And who, by the way, is that dashing young man with the guitar case who seems so eager to catch your eye?"
[b]FEAR JUSTICE.[/b] :elena:
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Post by Pamela »

“Only my bag,” Gertrude replied, unconsciously lifting a little higher the aforementioned carpetbag. “Which is filled with papers and books, the true essentials,” she added wryly.

The professor smiled and then turned back to the bard, shaking her head bemusedly even as she raised her hand in greeting. “Brother Crow; he’s the one I mentioned yesterday. Very witty with tendencies to drama, but he is a bard after all,” she said with affectionate amusement. “If you wish, I could introduce you?”
His only real danger is if stupidity is contagious and lethal. In which case, we’re all dead…-Gertrude
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

Llana wrote:“Only my bag,” Gertrude replied, unconsciously lifting a little higher the aforementioned carpetbag. “Which is filled with papers and books, the true essentials,” she added wryly.
"Spoken like an academic, Professor," the Countess replies, with a teasing emphasis on the title. "Iago, please take Sister Kingsley's bag upstairs and see to the other arrangements. Thank you."

The hatchet-faced Borcan takes the bag*, nods without smiling to Gertrude, and turns away. Now, for the first time (had it been there before?), Gertrude sees the silver ring on the bodyguard's left hand--the entertwining asps she knows so well.
The professor smiled and then turned back to the bard, shaking her head bemusedly even as she raised her hand in greeting. “Brother Crow; he’s the one I mentioned yesterday. Very witty with tendencies to drama, but he is a bard after all,” she said with affectionate amusement. “If you wish, I could introduce you?”
"By all means," the Countess says. "I look forward to the acquaintance, the more so as it is so immediately to be made."
[b]FEAR JUSTICE.[/b] :elena:
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