strangetrip | Entries tagged with ignis scientia

The calendar of "Kahl-ee-Fornea" was very different to that of Tal'Dorei. But the spring dance had been a good reminder for the Exandrians (one of them, anyway) that the Renewal Festival would take place more or less this time of year, landing always on the thirteenth day of Dulahei. It seemed a fitting time to set the 'small family dinner' in celebration of the marriage of Vex and Percy.

...Yeah, but no. Because Vax'ildan didn't mind a bit of revenge for their having done the thing without so much as telling him for several weeks, and because his sister always deserved the best of everything anyway, the garden had a whopping lot more than that for the happy couple as they opened the doors onto what first looked like pitch blackness. Until the big, white-hot spotlight snapped abruptly on to glare down on top of the pair with blinding scrutiny.

A familiar voice sang out from beyond, his ever-charming booming and crooning amplified to fill the whole of the outdoors by something called a 'microphone,' Scanlan using all his singular panache to belt out a melodic tune:

"There she is, Mrs. De Rolo
There she is, your ideal
The dreams of a million boys and girls who want to find love in Emon City
For Vex may turn out to more than Baroness of the first house of Whitestone and Grand Mistress of the Hunt
There he is, Mr. De Rolo
There he is, your ideal
With so much brooding and tinkering he took the town by storm
With his all-Whitestone face and form
And there they are
Walking on air, he is
Fairest of the fair, she is
There they are - Mr. and Mrs. De Rolooooooooooo~"

A resounding wave of applause, murmuring, cheers, and laughter broke out all around the newlyweds - one such unbridled merry cackle absolutely coming from the bride's brother - and Scanlan's tone changed immediately to a much more vibrant, excited, sporting-event-enthusiasm style of announcement: "Ladies and Gentlemen - it's the DE ROLO FAMILY!"

The strands of bulb lighting popped into yellow-soft brightness all at once, revealing the guests gathered around dozens of tables artfully set with dinner places enough for everyone at the Inn. Each table included flowers, linens, and garlands all matched in smart Whitestone-Blue, darker Owlbear-Blue, black and white with touches of gold accents, all thanks to Caroline's management. The outdoor area so far as one could see had been dressed in one of Lillith's illusions to mimic a beautiful forest clearing at purple-dusk with fireflies dancing, the shapes of buildings and foothills in the distance distinctly cast to look like the city and castle of Whitestone. Ignis and Emma stood by putting a few final touches on what they'd all started calling 'fancy barbecue,' an enormous buffet of haute cuisine smoked and grilled meats with artful sides, a table beside them holding up the massive layer cake Pike had tirelessly fussed into perfection. So many others had come together to help or to wish the de Rolos well - but there would be plenty of time over the evening for them to be thanked and recognized with food, drink, song - there was even an area marked out as a dance floor.

A freshly bathed Trinket in his very own bowtie lumbered up to Vex'ahlia to rumble and lick her face as the pair finally had a moment to react to the spectacle. At ground-level, a small disc-like device with a large serving spoon taped to it had been labeled with marker as Ensign Stubby, rolling its way between tables and chairs while balancing a large, many-times-stabbed basket of flower petals (with a handful left nestled in its giant spoon) on top of its flat surface like a drunken flower girl to finally bump into Vex and Percy's shoes. ...And possibly the best thing about their stunning surprise? That Peter boy had got the whole thing on VHS.

st_ackeddeck

Emma had spent more of the last four days in front of a fire with her cards than she wanted to admit to herself. She wouldn't even let herself think what Sabine or Dani would've said if they'd seen her. When not there, she'd been curled up in a blanket nest she made in one of the twin beds upstairs, crying until she felt dryer than the desert outside. It still felt too empty to sleep until exhaustion didn't leave her a choice, but it was better than the king bed would've been. She'd left that for her roommate. He'd been back sometime while she was upstairs, gotten his bag, and left again. That was okay. She didn't really want to people, and she'd only hurt him with her face, and her not knowing what to say or not make things worse just by existing.

Four days of only leaving the room long enough to get a bite to eat she wouldn't even taste was ridiculous, and when lying there unable to sleep got to be too much, she showered and dressed. Chop vegetables, boil water, Dani would've said. Shortly before dawn, the hotel kitchen was empty. Emptier than the castle's would've probably been that time of night.

With no appetite, she looked at what was available to decide where to start. Plenty of venison... a confit maybe, since it was so early, and would take time to cook. Once that was in the oven, she was lost for a moment, and grabbed a bag of onions. If a few tears formed as she sliced them thin, it was just the onions, that was all, and once she started them caramelizing, she felt steadier, and maybe ready to think of eating herself eventually. Soup later, from the onions.

Aligot. That was what she wanted. So she gathered her ingredients, and started to peel potatoes, dropping them whole into water with lemon juice. By the time sounds of the inn started to filter through, and others came into the kitchen she had more potatoes than she had any need for, and she started thinking of all the ways she could use them, each dish sounding as welcome as the last. Putting the peeled potatoes in the walk-in to keep cool, she went looking for a small chalkboard she'd seen in the café. In neat even letters, she wrote:

Today's Specials

Potatoes All Day

Latkes
6-11AM
Gratin Dauphinois
11AM-3PM
Raclette
3PM-7PM
Tartiflette
7PM-10PM
Aligot
12N-1PM, 8-9PM
Disco Fries
all day, made on order

DINNER SPECIAL

Confit de Venaison, Pané

Soupes du Jour
Potato Leek
French Onion

She added some scrolling designs in the margins and looked over her work. That would keep her busy. Busy was good. Feeding people, feeling like she was doing something useful, that was even better.

((OOC: Find Emma in the kitchens or the café, any time throughout the day. She's shy and sad, but always willing to talk about food, and willing to take requests.))

st_alksthroughwalls

Every check-in day conjured memories of her first, and all of the others, which inevitably meant she spent the day with Lara on her mind, and Petey, Illyana, and Wyatt. She'd been blessed with dear friends and loves arriving, and yet she never stopped hoping she'd figure out the mess that was this pocket universe and get home.

It was starting to become complicated, though, almost a year later. It would hurt to lose the people she'd grown fond of here, almost as much as it would be good to get home. She didn't know what to do with that feeling, but it was what it was. All she could do was tend the bar with patience and understanding, and keep an eye on the readings her crude energy measuring devices out on the road sent to her.

For all the people that came in and out, it was a quiet day. So between drinks, she spent most of it bent over a notebook with a cup of coffee in her hand, trying to design better instruments to dismantle Yana's shackles. Maybe Percy could help her build them.

st_oriedqueen

Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim. - Vicki Harrison

"You're sure?" Regina already knew the answer but demanding that Sam tell her what she already knew satisfied something petty in her. Or maybe just something hurt that hoped he'd have a different answer than her locator spell had already provided.

"Yeah." Sam half-rolled his eyes at her as he leaned across the pink bar counter to grab bottles of beer from the Silver Bar ice bin -- probably the results of Rebekah's last work-effort at the Inn -- for himself and his newly arrived companion.

Briefly, Regina considered burning a hole in the seat of his jeans, but it wouldn't bring Rebekah or any of the absent ones back. Instead, she took refuge in straightening her A-line and walking around the stylish counter Sam lay across like he was surfing the waves of grief. She took down a bottle of pointlessly pricey champagne, and then found the precise cut-crystal glasses Rebekah and Miss Fisher had preferred for their afternoon indulgences. She poured herself a glass and one for the person who dared her openly bitter expression.

"So who all are we missing?" they both said at once, glared at each other and sighed. They both knew the answers, in their own way and for their own reasons. And neither of them wanted to say.

Rebekah Mikaelson. Henry Winchester. Jack Robinson. Phryne Fisher. Dorothy Williams. Angua von Uberwald. Jaime Vegas. Harry Dresden. Lydia Martin. Raleigh Becket. Yasmeen. Joanna Beauchamp. Constance Bonacieux D'Artagnan. Lindsey McDonald.

"Grief is like the ocean," Sam clearly quoted from some fucking where, and Regina tuned him out until he added, "All we can do is learn to swim. Rebekah told me that."

Now Regina rolled her eyes; they weren't friends. "Shut up, Sam."

st_illunsmeared

Date: January 29, 2017

Via the wayback machine: Ignis is overcome by sunlight -- and Phryne's sunshine.

( And certainly there's nothing silly about about appreciating the sun on your skin, regardless of the reason. It makes one feel alive, does it not? )

st_unning

Date: May 5

Ignis brings Alcuin a gift. It turns out the way into his trousers is through books.

|here | NC-17 | Complete |

st_oriedqueen

Why Caroline had needed her to help with Check-In Day she hadn't bothered to say. Just, "you said you'd help," and when Regina protested she wasn't good with people, "aren't you a Queen or a Mayor or something?" complete with shooing gestures. While Regina found Caroline more exasperating the terrifying, she did have a point.

So Regina suited up--literally, gathered her files and folders, coffee mug, pens and pocketed the wooden carving of Henry/Roland Robin had made for her, then headed for the cafe. If, polished and politic and patently Busy, she didn't offer newcomers the brightest or warmest smile when they arrived, it was nevertheless confident and quite possibly reassuring.

Caroline did friendly. Regina...did knowledgeable and polite. Dot and Ignis had been asked to provide finger food on catering trays. The still-grieving Miss Pryde had been tasked with samovars of tea and coffee and ice chest of soda and beer. Caroline's welcome baskets sat on the table beside Regina's for easy access. And though she didn't when she was alone in the office, Regina spent the magic to fix her eyesight so she didn't put glasses between her and new arrivals.

Madame Mayor was in.

st_eadfast

Date: March 23
Status: Complete
Summary: Alcuin and Ignis fail to read Twilight, because it's terrible, and do spa stuff instead. Guest-starring Phryne Fisher being a good (and very amused) friend.
Link: After Alcuin's conversation with Phryne, he had a small sense of purpose.

st_eadfast

On the currency and action scales, following Yasmeen - Captain Corsair - had been as satisfactory as Ignis had hoped. Sufficient action for sufficient reward, and now all that was left was working out what to do with said reward. Hoarding it would serve little purpose, as money was of little use in the Inn... and, truly, it wasn't difficult to think of a good way to spend at least some of his share.

But to do so properly, he would need help. In short order, Ignis had narrowed down the best options to help him down to either Miss Fisher or Captain Corsair. Which was a far less difficult decision than he'd thought, given Miss Fisher's occasional tendency towards opacity of dialogue. Besides, he had a shrewd idea of where the good Captain would be found.

Returned to the Inn and her Raleigh, but she would be in the Cafe so as not to seem like she'd done anything as emotional as miss someone. And, indeed, she was in what was fast becoming her usual corner. "Captain, what a pleasure to find you. Do you have a moment?"

captaincorsair

Mosquitos whined in the sodden jungle air, divebombing the party as they fought their way through grasping vines. The path they followed wasn't a path as such, more of a list of landmarks in order of passage. Only the best trackers among them found any signs of bipedal passage, and they agreed it might have been years since anyone had passed this way.

The first signs of the inevitable irritations of a long slog had begun to show themselves about two hours out from the Road's End Inn and Tavern near the end of the North-South road. An hour later, damper, and more bug-bitten, the party arrived at the sheer cliff-wall that was the next landmark (and one of the last) on their journey.

Yasmeen shielded her eyes with her hand and looked up the cliff-face. The sketch that accompanied the "map" suggested there would be a cave mouth some 40 feet up. Keen cat eyes picked out a hidden entrance more like 60 feet up, screened by thick vines. If she hadn't known it was there, she would have missed it.

"Anyone fly or am I climbing?" she asked after she'd pointed it out to her companions.

captaincorsair

Yasmeen "refused to be bored, because she wasn't boring."**

She'd read that in a book in Gotham. But then, Gotham had a library, bookstores, and her Lady. Not being bored was a lot easier. So, when the city opened, Yasmeen all but bolted through the portal into the wet jungle heat in search of anything interesting to do.

It didn't take long for her to discover there were no airships, no weapons modern even by her standards, and very little for non-natives to do. But there was always work in a port city, even in a river port, and she knew how to find it.

On day two, she met Ek Sothea, a young woman with a gift for spotting an opportunity. By day three, she'd agreed to front her the gold for a salvage operation in the river. It barely touched the reserves of what Yasmeen had with her when she arrived from Gotham, but it was enough to finance the operation and get Yasmeen a tip on a bar by the docks where Ek Sothea had gotten the initial information and the name of the man who'd supplied it. Soksan.

The third night, she staked out the bar and by the fourth, she'd met Sar Peou and his contact Hu Chariya who needed an ancient and valuable map retrieved from the business partners who'd kept it after a deal went bad. Early on the morning of the fifth day, she'd slipped into the third floor above the Phann Raksmei bank, picked the locks on the safe chest, and obtained the map. On the evening of the fifth day, she met Sar Peou at Soksan, slipped into his back corner booth and delivered the map in exchange for a healthy payment that covered her investment in Ek Sothea's salvage operation.

Business transacted, she bought herself an ale to nurse while scoping out her next job.

~*~*~*~
* Herman Hesse, Steppenwolf
** Zelda Fitzgerald

st_ockandbarrel

After nearly two weeks, Percy was finally feeling healthy again. It had never taken so long to heal, not since he'd fallen in with magic users who could bring vitality with a touch or a word. Even after he'd died and been resurrected, he'd been entirely hale in less than a week.

He'd dissembled and reassembled the gun MacCready had given them, learning a great deal about the way it worked and giving him ideas on how to improve Bad News. But here, he didn't seem to need his weapons. And there were so many other fascinating machines. Particularly in the kitchen.

Not that Percy was often in a kitchen. His cooking skills were poor and he survived largely on rations most of the time. But he'd seen the coffee maker while at breakfast one morning and his curiosity had been piqued. About midday - after the lunch rush when it wouldn't anyone - he crept into the kitchen and approached a large, shiny machine. This would be his first investigation.

st_arkcrowblack

Even before she knew for certain that it was the first of a month, Snow’s body had started bracing for it. She was wary and tense, preparing to cope with yet more people in the space of the hotel. It seemed that no sooner had she adjusted to whoever had showed up the last time, there was someone new again.

She didn’t want anything to do with the lot of it. That was what those busy women on the welcome committee were for. She didn’t think the committee was a stupid thing, not at all. Focusing on settling new people in kept the lot of them busy and away from her, and that was where she wanted them. They terrified her.

Snow White had only come into the main building to forage for food. The original plan was of course to turn right back around and escape before the expected rush (small or large) of new people to flood in.

But that was of course not what happened. When a universe was a pocket, it had less to focus on and fewer people to fuck with, and so Snow was entirely certain it was fucking with her when she was the one in the lobby when a new face came through the door.

st_rontium

Date: 21 February

In this issue of The Wasteland Survival Guide, MacCready gets fed by Ignis and they have a pretty good conversation about the question of replenishing foodstocks in the hotel. The sniper, who up to this point has been mostly focused on keeping watch, decides to perhaps return to his farming days just a little and asks Ignis to set aside some seeds so he can get some starters going.

[Here | rating: pg-13 for some strong language | status: complete | warnings: none]

st_aff

None of the guests noticed when the spiky-haired man-child in jeans and purple t-shirt, wrists wrapped in cheap leather and metal bracelets, arrived at the Madonna Inn a few hours before midnight on February 13. That, in itself, wasn't all that surprising. Eros, otherwise known as Danny Valentine, had millennia of experience doing his job without being spotted.

What was surprising was that the dude at the front desk did see him. Tall and Nondescript waved him over and then gave him a room number 'in case you wanted to rest'. But Danny didn't.

Want to, or rest. He spent the time before the clock struck midnight polishing his love gun. Not like that. He'd find a girl to spend his nameday with. He always did. No, this little beauty was made by Hephaestus himself. It shot love darts that disappeared on contact.

At midnight, kitted out with more love darts than there were people in this pink and gold monstrosity, Danny left his room and shot the first person he saw--and didn't wait to see what would happen.

No point getting a slow start. He had a lot of work to do.

st_alksthroughwalls

Fifteen days into this particular strange trip, Kitty had redistributed alcohol supplies between the cafe, restaurant, and night club to make it possible to easily tend bar wherever people decided to gather. Today, as most days, she settled into the lobby cafe after chivvying the cook into chicken tenders and french fries (after convincing him it was a single plate meal). It was the closest she could get to "bar food" from him and someone would probably arrive sooner rather than later to make something else.

A few people trickled in after awhile, but none of them demanding. Like her, they drank coffee from the samovar she'd put out. And also like her, most of them had something else to keep them occupied. At the moment, Kitty had a notebook open (from the gift shop; she kept her school notebooks separate in case she made it home during the term) and was sketching plans to upgrade the hotel's computer technology. She needed more raw computing power to work out the energy requirements to do what Illyana did with a thought.

She lifted her head periodically to check for new customers, and had just seated herself at the end of the bar after refilling the samovar when the first new new customer arrived. Immediately, she flipped to a fresh page in the notebook and headed it "Day 15" and made a hash mark for one new arrival. Then she looked up from her notebook and offered one and all her best bartending smile.

st_aff

None of them planned it.

It just happened.

After a week of nothing but Iron Chef: Chicken, Sam had gone to the Copper Cafe to make himself a salad and found Steph already there making waffles. Dean joined them when he couldn’t find Sam in the room and immediately started pouring draft beers. Snow crept down a little later, apparently planning to make mashed potatoes to go with her chicken, and found Steph already peeling them.

With promises of alcohol and no questions, they convinced Snow to stay. And then, to their surprise, she not only helped Steph with the potatoes but overheard Dean bitching about a bakery with no pies and rolled up her sleeves to make one or three. The Chef drifted in a bit later, made fried chicken without talking to any of them and left them to their demented, sad but drunkenly social New Year’s Eve “party”.

By ten they were bored of draft beer and Sam and Steph went and raided the Steak House coolers for champagne—Steph because she wanted it and Sam because it was entirely plausible that an insurance investigator/estate appraiser would know something about what was decent champagne. But when they found a room service cart, they didn’t stop at champagne.

Why should they? They couldn’t go anywhere. They had nothing to do except when Sam and Dean could sneak off to bust the odd ghost or Steph to crawl the odd roof and Snow for a horseback ride. No reason they couldn’t spend the next three days drinking in the Cafe if they wanted.

Which was why when the new guests started arriving in groups of threes and fours, they were still there, drinking, listening to whatever crap music Steph on her phone and ready to share their booze for consolation. There wasn’t any way for people to get out of the lobby without seeing them, either, so they ended up consoling a lot.

Of course, there were four of them and eventually like twenty-six new people, so pretty soon it was less you’re stuck, it sucks, I’m sorry and more have a drink, grab a chair, have some pie. Some stayed in the wood-and-red leather cafe with its copper fittings, and some didn’t.

Whatever they chose, not one could say it wasn’t an interesting New Year’s Day.

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Strange Trip

December 2019

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Page Summary

st_abby - [GP] The De Rolo Wedding Reception
st_ackeddeck - [OTA] comfort foods
st_alksthroughwalls - [GP] Check-In Day: What a nice surprise; bring your alibis
st_oriedqueen - [GP] All we can do is learn to swim
st_illunsmeared - Daylight (Ignis, Phryne) backdated to late January
st_unning - [Linkdrop] Alcuin & Ignis (NSFW)
st_oriedqueen - [GP/EP] Check-In Day
st_eadfast - [Log] Day at the Spa (Alcuin, Ignis, Phryne)
st_eadfast - [Locked to Yasmeen] shopping?
captaincorsair - [Locked to Adventurers] Land Out of Time
captaincorsair - [EP] a rage against this toneless, flat, normal and sterile life* - backdated
st_ockandbarrel - [For Ignis] Tinkers gotta tink
st_arkcrowblack - [GP/EP] You're not clear of story out here
st_rontium - [MacCready and Ignis - Link Drop] Food For Thought
st_aff - [GP] Shoot that poison arrow
st_alksthroughwalls - [GP/EP] We are programmed to receive
st_aff - Welcome to the Hotel (in) California...

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Strange Trip

You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave

Entries tagged with ignis scientia

[GP] The De Rolo Wedding Reception

[OTA] comfort foods

[GP] Check-In Day: What a nice surprise; bring your alibis

[GP] All we can do is learn to swim

Daylight (Ignis, Phryne) backdated to late January

[Linkdrop] Alcuin & Ignis (NSFW)

[GP/EP] Check-In Day

[Log] Day at the Spa (Alcuin, Ignis, Phryne)

[Locked to Yasmeen] shopping?

[Locked to Adventurers] Land Out of Time

[EP] a rage against this toneless, flat, normal and sterile life* - backdated

[For Ignis] Tinkers gotta tink

[GP/EP] You're not clear of story out here

[MacCready and Ignis - Link Drop] Food For Thought

[GP] Shoot that poison arrow

[GP/EP] We are programmed to receive

Welcome to the Hotel (in) California...