RE: QUIETUS [S!5] [Round 3: Deluge]
10-03-2017, 11:31 PM
The Fort St. Alban Diplomatic Building was old, rain-soaked, dignified, built back when they built things to last. Built back when they thought things would last. Fort St. Alban, the city without history.
Its interiors were tobacco-scented, cloistered and humid, rich wood and rich leather desks and yellow gaslamps. Even the mildest personality had turned day-drinker and chainsmoker nowadays. At night the smart occupants in their smart clothes still kept busy, their worker-bee telegrams and letters, aides keeping everyone abreast of recent developments, shop talk, political musings, long silences.
What else could you do, go home and kill yourself?
“So Etienne, any development in the international chatter?”
Etienne sighed and pulled off the heavy earphones.
“Only the saber-rattling over the S. Reine you have heard all week.”
“You know, the Old Man gave a rousing speech today. If I did not know the things I do about troop movements, I would say the war was ready to start.”
“We should be sending another ship out to get torpedoed, maybe then they finally make up their minds who is to blame.”
O O O
Olimphe turned her notes this way and that.
“The police, they are saying strange things. A tank shaped like a man, a building destroyed...”
Sidonie shrugged.
“Pass it along upstairs. True or not, maybe it becomes a pretext for war.”
Etienne laughed.
O O O
“Do you think Aurevilly down the hall spies for Mathurin?”
“What?”
“Milk-mannered Aurevilly, one of the Bully's Boys?”
“Well, you know, recently he is sending secretive messages every night and skulking around. And his eyes are always red.”
“Sidonie is right, Olimphe, a true patriot faces the Storm with grandeur and bravery. From this we can induce that M. Aurevilly is nothing but a turncoat and a coward—”
O O O
“A man is yelling down in the street—Etienne, go and see what it is he wants.”
O O O
“An M. Ginisty claims he saw the river 'shudder like a sick dog' and fly through the air.”
“Which river?”
“It was also singing.”
“Why did he not go to the police?”
“We are closer, I suppose.”
“Well, get him some brandy, and if brandy has been the trouble, then get him some water.”
O O O
“Will you be going to Mme. Vicaire's masquerade ball? All the best costume shops have already become sold out.”
“It depends, will she spike the punch with cyanide or arsenic?”
O O O
“The police reports grow stranger. This one speaks of unrest in Our Mercy's District and—burned bodies? Fires?”
“What could possibly burn in our city?”
Sidonie sat silently, blowing the smoke from her cigarette out the window and looking at the rain. She got up suddenly.
“The sun...”
“What? It's still hours before dawn...”
She shook her head vigorously and put the cigarette out.
“No. No, my mistake.”
Its interiors were tobacco-scented, cloistered and humid, rich wood and rich leather desks and yellow gaslamps. Even the mildest personality had turned day-drinker and chainsmoker nowadays. At night the smart occupants in their smart clothes still kept busy, their worker-bee telegrams and letters, aides keeping everyone abreast of recent developments, shop talk, political musings, long silences.
What else could you do, go home and kill yourself?
“So Etienne, any development in the international chatter?”
Etienne sighed and pulled off the heavy earphones.
“Only the saber-rattling over the S. Reine you have heard all week.”
“You know, the Old Man gave a rousing speech today. If I did not know the things I do about troop movements, I would say the war was ready to start.”
“We should be sending another ship out to get torpedoed, maybe then they finally make up their minds who is to blame.”
O O O
Olimphe turned her notes this way and that.
“The police, they are saying strange things. A tank shaped like a man, a building destroyed...”
Sidonie shrugged.
“Pass it along upstairs. True or not, maybe it becomes a pretext for war.”
Etienne laughed.
O O O
“Do you think Aurevilly down the hall spies for Mathurin?”
“What?”
“Milk-mannered Aurevilly, one of the Bully's Boys?”
“Well, you know, recently he is sending secretive messages every night and skulking around. And his eyes are always red.”
“Sidonie is right, Olimphe, a true patriot faces the Storm with grandeur and bravery. From this we can induce that M. Aurevilly is nothing but a turncoat and a coward—”
O O O
“A man is yelling down in the street—Etienne, go and see what it is he wants.”
O O O
“An M. Ginisty claims he saw the river 'shudder like a sick dog' and fly through the air.”
“Which river?”
“It was also singing.”
“Why did he not go to the police?”
“We are closer, I suppose.”
“Well, get him some brandy, and if brandy has been the trouble, then get him some water.”
O O O
“Will you be going to Mme. Vicaire's masquerade ball? All the best costume shops have already become sold out.”
“It depends, will she spike the punch with cyanide or arsenic?”
O O O
“The police reports grow stranger. This one speaks of unrest in Our Mercy's District and—burned bodies? Fires?”
“What could possibly burn in our city?”
Sidonie sat silently, blowing the smoke from her cigarette out the window and looking at the rain. She got up suddenly.
“The sun...”
“What? It's still hours before dawn...”
She shook her head vigorously and put the cigarette out.
“No. No, my mistake.”