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You exit the train, relieved that you are on time. You collect your luggage from the baggage car, and head towards the cabstand. The platform is rather crowded, and you push your way past large families on holiday and tourists who, for some reason, wish to consult their guidebooks about some architectural feature of the station.

You are just beginning to ponder pleasant thoughts of the visit to come, when you hear someone calling your name, and you look around, trying to figure out where the sound is coming from.

Emerging from behind a smoke screen of exhaust from a departing train, you see a figure walking towards you, coughing and gesturing to get your attention.

Who is this unassuming and impressionable person carrying a bright green pear and a bulging picnic basket, nearly jumping up and down with excitement as they approach you?

1. A delicately proportioned maid in uniform.

2. A slightly built manservant in livery.

Don't reply to this post.

 

Bold: 65%

Culture: 38%

Intellect: 32%

Observe: 48%

Persuade: 44%

Skullduggery: 32%

Soothing: 36%/Abrasive: 64%  

 

Renown: 34%

Tranquility: 54%

Suspicion: 10%

Invitation: 33%

 

Rory: 55%

Valentine: 17%

Frankincense: 37%

Aunt Primrose: 42%

Col. Firesnuff: 21%

Regina:  32%

Haze: 36%

Mopsie:  0%

 

Ready Monies: 60

Reply to this post!

1, He is not homo and will not willingly interact with males this whole playthrough.

For once me and Mizal agree on something

Option 2

We must go full homo

#1. Total stereotype, but an excited maid with a picnic basket hopefully means she made some great food and plans to impress. Perhaps we can send her off to purchase a hairpin of gift for us, too, and she'd probably be better at picking one out than a random guy would.

Well, at this point it really doesn't matter what i pick, 1 will win. So 1.

If any other COGites stumbled upon this thread, they'd no doubt be horrified, no, triggered at our lack of progressiveness. But that's totally not the case!We CYStians merely want more strong female characters, thats all! We're just shy and don't want to admit it, is all. :P

#1. We need to avoid the gays at all costs. BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN WE'RE GOING TO ROMANCE HER.

No romancing, sure, but compliments might score us access to or treats in the kitchen. We never know when a good relation with the staff might come in handy, say if we need to pull an art heist...

A delicately proportioned maid in uniform.

You are hailed by this young woman eagerly. "Are you Pennyworth?" she calls, in a strong Gloucestershire accent. "I'm sorry to bother you. But I'm here to greet you." She takes a bite of the pear.

You slow down to see who this new addition to the cast is. You are relatively familiar with most of the old hands at Aunt Primrose's, and are certain that you have never seen her before.

"I'm Valentine," she says, bowing her head deferentially as you approach. You cast a trained eye over her uniform, a plain black dress with a white apron and a white cap, noting with professional detachment that it is slightly threadbare. "It's an honor to meet you. You're right on time."

"Were you sent from Mrs. Patterson's house?"

"Nope. I was sent by the Cadbury Club. This is my very first job. I was just hired on at Mrs. Primrose Patterson's estate."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. I am her new downstairs maid. But I'm going to work really hard, and someday I'm going to be a real lady's maid. I know I can do it."

Valentine looks up at you with eyes of innocence, as you attempt to formulate a response, and then, before you do, she hits you with the crucial bit of information.

"You have been assigned as my mentor. I think it's part of your test for admission into the Inner Circle."

The Cadbury Club is, as you well know, the most elite club for servants, populated solely by those for whom immaculate service is a way of life. The Inner Circle is an almost legendary club-within-a-club, rumored to be composed solely of the most respected members of the Cadbury Club. You have, of course, imagined yourself being elected to that august society, but hardly dreamed that it might come to pass.

You have heard it said, as well, that there are difficult tests and challenges that the Inner Circle use to test their prospective members. It would appear, then, that you are being considered for inclusion in the Inner Circle, with all of the prestige that would entail.

1. "Wonderful! Glad to meet you, Valentine!"

2. I look Valentine up and down critically. "I…am to be…your mentor?"

3. "But why me? Why now?"

I would go for option 2 but that seems a little too rude, so I'll go for option 3

1, we need to show emotion and actually make friends like real friends. Who are we friends with in this playthrough.

I said friends to have friends is to have them like you at least more than 50% and thats only Rory

Let's go with 2.

#2, but not to be rude (hopefully.) It is good to establish connection but also keep some mentor/trainee distance so that she will listen to and respect Pennyworth. We don't want her to feel hopeless, but it is good to hint that it will be hard work. 1 is more the response of an equal, and she's a few ranks lower than us on the servant ladder.  #3 might get us some juicy information though, hmm, but she might not be the best person to ask questions of. If Pennyworth wants to be admitted, we have to assume he is being scrutinized and must give off the impression, at least in public, of the perfect butler.

Unfortunately this means we can't recruit Valentine very easily into our art scheme, and really might need a better plan not so doomed to failure..

 

I look Valentine up and down critically. "I…am to be…your mentor?"

"Y-yes," says Valentine. "I hope you don't find me objectionable. I try very hard."

"It just seems like a difficult assignment when I am here attempting to provide for Mr. Wintermint's needs whilst he is here."

"That's what I told them. I said, 'Can't it just wait until Pennyworth returns home?' But they said they always start the mentoring examination on the third Thursday of the month."

"I don't know…"

"I will work night and day to follow your every instruction. I know I don't have a lot of experience, but I want to learn. Becoming a lady's maid is my dream, and I'm going to keep at it until I succeed. It's all I ever wanted in life."

You pace around for a moment, then turn back to Valentine. "But why on earth would they send a woman, just learning how to be a downstairs maid, and aspiring to become a lady's maid, to me? Why wouldn't they send you to a proper lady's maid?"

"I don't know the answer to that, and it's a question that perplexes me as well."

"There's a great deal of specific knowledge involved in tending to the needs of a lady, as you know. Issues of fashionable dress, and hair, and cosmetics, and so forth. At present I serve a gentleman. I can hardly advise you on these matters."

"I am at a loss. Oh! Right. Maybe this would help?"

She hands you an envelope, sealed with wax and bearing the crest of your club: The Cadbury Club For Those Who Serve.

"It's my letter of introduction."

You open the letter, and on official Cadbury Club stationery, you read a missive confirming that Valentine has indeed been sent by the Inner Circle to test you. Valentine is described as a promising young woman who needs guidance and a role model. The letter stresses that you will be evaluated following Valentine's apprenticeship to you, which will last for one month. The letter further notes that Valentine is to be instructed in whatever you deem most important for a servant to be trained in.

"Well, everything here seems to be in order."

"What do you want me to do first?" Valentine says, throwing the pear core away. "I'm ready."

1. "Go and wash your hands while I hire a cab. Your hands are sure to be sticky."

2. "Gather up the suitcases and follow me."

3. "I'll take the suitcases; follow me."

 

1. She needs to learn these things.

Option 1

I don’t want any servant to have their grubby, sticky hands all over my stuff.

I'll go for Option 1 because the whole point of this is that we're supposed to train her. No one wants sticky hands on their stuff.

1. Yes, definitely don't want any sticky hands.

1, washing your hands is very healthy 

"Go and wash your hands while I hire a cab. Your hands are sure to be sticky."

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry. That was careless of me."

Valentine rushes into the station and emerges shortly after, looking a little abashed, but no less eager.

You, meanwhile, have already hired a cab and loaded the bags into it.

"Don't forget your picnic basket," you say, pointing.

"Oh yes! I nearly forgot." Valentine heaves it into the back seat of the cab, saying "Upsie-daisy!"

"Don't say 'upsie-daisy.'"

"Whoops. Sorry."

You and Valentine slide into the back of the cab, with the picnic basket between you.

"I packed us a lunch," Valentine says. "I wanted to bring you something to thank you in advance for taking me under your wing. I know it's awkward. I don't know what kind of food you like, so I packed a bit of everything."

You watch as Valentine opens the basket and points out the various lunch items in it. "I packed lots of finger sandwiches, and pickled vegetables, and charred peppers stuffed with buttered bread crumbs, and some hard cheese, and a bottle of cider. Do you like marinated eggplant? I also have some of that, and some baguette and jam, and for dessert—you're going to really like this—some lovely cream puffs. I suppose we can just feast here in the cab."

It looks extraordinarily delicious, but it also looks rather messy and potentially the sort of food that might leave a lingering aroma.

She tries to judge from your expression whether or not you are pleased.

1. "I think it would be tidier to eat that later, don't you?"

2. "It looks so lovely, Valentine. I'm afraid I ate on the train."

3. "I can't wait to eat this charming picnic. I'll start with some of those pickles."

 

Note that we have a new stat:  Invitation.  This stat measures our likelihood of being invited to join the Inner Circle.

EDIT: Option 1. 3 is Big Gay.

#1. That way we still imply we are willing to eat it (sounds delicious) but help her realize that as a servant she needs to think of the natural consequences of her actions on others. Number 2 will help us avoid any smells but won't teach her a thing. And we did eat on the train, so as yummy as it looks I doubt Pennyworth would risk 3 when he isn't starving.

Option 1. Apparently you folks've decided that Pennyworth's gonna be a harsh but honest teacher, so let's continue that trend. 2 would still be acceptable; a more roundabout, polite approach. 3 is just not nice at all, and I'm sure Pennyworth wouldn't do it.

3, we see food we eat it.

Option 1

Option #1.

"I think it would be tidier to eat that later, don't you?"

"Oohh," says Valentine. "Tidier. Yes."

"And, possibly, the aroma—though delightful—might not be welcome when we arrive."

"I hadn't thought of that."

"Remember this lesson for the future," you say.

"I just wanted to bring you something nice."

"It is appreciated."

But Valentine doesn't look so sure.

As you ride along, you talk with Valentine, learning a bit about her. She speaks at length about her six brothers, and the Cotswolds, where she grew up. It was expected that Valentine would work at her parents' sweet shop.

However, after her parents' illness, Valentine had to provide for the family, and found her way to the city, taking on a few temporary, short-term positions to learn the trade, and joining the Junior Cadbury Club, where she was nominated as "Most Promising."

As you talk, Valentine turns her face up to you, looking into your eyes artlessly.

"I wanted to apologize if I'm mucking things up, Pennyworth. I'm a little flustered, and I'm not sure what I'm doing."

"There is no need for apology," you say.

"Well, good," Valentine says. "Good, good, good. I'm very excited to start, you know."

"That is obvious."

Twenty minutes later, you approach the grounds of Ritornello, and the world becomes filled with color, as you take in the astonishing palette that autumn has painted the world with: dark plum, fiery orange, and scarlet, everywhere, dotted here and there with russets, pumpkin pie orange-brown, and a deeper gingerbread brown. Even from inside the cab, you fancy that you can hear the rustling of the leaves, all dancing slightly with the wind.

Valentine sits next to you, studying your posture, and trying to mimic the way you are sitting. She straightens up and folds her hands in her lap.

"I was just wondering," Valentine says. "What would you say the most important part of being a good valet is, for you? I mean, what's the most important thing for me to work on?"

"An excellent question. I would say the most important thing is…"

1. "Listening to one's employer's orders and not deviating."

2. "Solving problems on your own without bothering your employer."

3. "Learning how to educate and shape your employer."

3, we are the molder and our employer is the clay.

3. SHE MUST HELP US MAKE CATWOMAN

#3, naturally. Also, this will hopefully give her a bit of motivation, allowing her to see past the difficulty of the minutia she must learn and remember to her true, higher purpose.

Option 3

Option 3. After all, we've been doing that with Rory (unsuccessfully) this whole playthrough.

"Learning how to educate and shape your employer."

"I have heard of such things."

"Yes. You see, while we are hired by our employer in order to do various household tasks, what we are really hired for is to transform him or her into a more ideal individual."

"But how so?"

"Through thousands of small, subtle nudges throughout the day. A lifted eyebrow. A nearly imperceptible shift of one's tone of voice. Soon, your employer will learn taste and proper judgment. Their life will be enriched."

"Are…larger nudges ever required?"

"Oh my, yes," you say. "It happens frequently. It is at those times that you must make a stronger correction, taking action to ensure that our employer does not do something that they will later regret."

"Tell me! When have you ever had to do that?"

What do you respond?

1. "Listen carefully, then, and I shall tell you an illustrative tale about Mr. Wintermint."

2. "One does not share stories about one's employers."

3. "I cannot tell you anything specific, but I will give you the broad outlines," I say, knowing that it may be somewhat more difficult to either amuse or instruct Valentine in that way.

Option 1. Gossip time.

***Option 1***

Conflicted here because 1 is obviously the Alfred choice, but we're already terrible at being Alfred, and the object here is to illustrate what we just said...

And also obviously I don't think anyone could resist partaking in catty gossip about their goofball employer. I'm sure even Alfred tells scandalous stories about what "Bruce" gets up to as a cover all the time.

Option 2- you probably shouldn't be gossiping about your master at all

#2. She'll see what we mean soon enough.

#2. Not gossiping about employers is like a cardinal rule. Perhaps Pennyworth can tell her so, then make up an example with a fictional character or use a well known story from history on how a maid kept her mistress from eloping by 'accidentally' putting all her undergarments in the wash at the same time so there were none to wear.

"One does not share stories about one's employers."

"Oh. I understand," says Valentine. "You don't trust me yet. Of course. We've only just met. I shouldn't have asked."

"Not at all. It's a question of keeping confidences, not my trust in you," you say, but you can tell Valentine doesn't quite believe you.

Aunt Primrose's estate is surrounded by massive oak trees dressed in vivid lemon yellows, with just a few red-brown oak leaves dotting the ground to mildly suggest that this beauty might come to an end someday, but not soon.

The cab stops at the green gates announcing that this is Ritornello, where two servants bar the way. They examine the cab carefully, presumably ensuring that Figs is not hiding in the back seat, and then wave you through. The cab curves around the great circular driveway with a white marble statue in the center of it in the shape of the goddess Minerva emerging from Jupiter's forehead. You pay the fellow over Valentine's objections, and are about to collect the luggage when you hear someone running from behind you, and then the world goes dark.

"Guess who!" calls a high-pitched and giggling voice. "Guess, Pennyworth!"

1. "Mrs. Patterson, is that you?"

2. "Mr. Wintermint, I believe?"

3. "Col. Firesnuff, is that you?"

4. "Mopsie?"

5. "Helen of Troy?"

 

 

#5. It's funny and possibly flattering to whoever this person is. Also, I don't like Valentine's passive aggression.

#5, it's amusing, non-commital, and fits with the mythic statues of god/goddesses in the yard. And no woman should take offense at being mistaken for beautiful Helen.

 

But I agree with cricket, here. Valentine is turning out to be a narcissic sulker who petulently assumes the worst in others if she does not get praised or rewarded as she wants.

 

I thought she was merely overeager and naive due to her excitement far exceeding her thoughtfulness and training. But her problems run far deeper than poor appearance or impulsiveness or a failure to think her actions through. She seems the sort of person who doesn't really want to do the real hard work of learning and doing mundane tasks. She wants the 'shortcut' that will earn her praise. E.g. putting all her effort into making an amazing picnic to impress her new temporary boss rather than tending to any chores needing done or her own appearance.

No wonder the Circle sent her as a test! She'd probably do fine with hairdoes and the like, as she'd be the sort to pile her mistress's hair with curls and pearls but forget to bring spare shoes or a cloth for the London mud. But what she really needs is to learn to serve out of duty or personal  satisfaction or to feel she has purpose, not because she is fishing for praise or wants to stand out. If we can get through to a self-absorbed passive agressive type and teach her how to shape herself and a future employer, then we really would be among the cream of the crop of butlers!

 

 

"Helen of Troy?"

"No, someone even more beautiful!" she laughs, releasing you. "Did you really think I was Helen of Troy? Did you?"

Mopsie is looking lovely as ever in a twirly pink-and-purple floral chiffon dress with a large floppy bow at the neck and six big cloth-covered buttons down the front. Her hair is somewhat wild, an explosion of curls and tendrils. She is flushed, probably from charging at you from behind. Mopsie appears as sweet as can be. But you have seen that gleam in her eyes before. Mopsie usually means trouble—she has a tendency to provoke chaos around her sooner or later.

You see Valentine directing some of Aunt Primrose's help to take the luggage up to Mr. Wintermint's room. For a moment, you consider whether Valentine needs help, but soon realize that Mopsie will not brook any distractions.

"Oh, Pennyworth, Pennyworth, Pennyworth!" she says. "I can't believe you're here! I just can't believe it! You're here at last!"

"I am."

"And we'll spend ever so much time together!"

Valentine clears her throat. "I think I will go ahead in with the luggage and make my presence known to the household staff. I will see you soon, Pennyworth. And thank you for your company."

You bid Valentine farewell, as Mopsie waves her hands in increasingly large circles to get your attention.

"Did you…did you happen to see dear Figaro on your journey?"

She looks up at you with large, liquid eyes, and her lower lip starts to quiver.

"I did see the gentleman in question."

"I believe he goes by 'Figs,' among his friends," Mopsie says, and a tear starts to swell and roll.

"Indeed."

"Did…did he mention me?"

1. "In fact, he asked me to kiss your dewy brow on his behalf," I say, kissing her dewy brow.

2. "He spoke of you with obvious affection and longing."

3. "As a matter of fact, I don't believe he did."

I don't think the Pennyworth would do option 1 and option 3 is a little rude so I'm going for the safe option- option 2

#2. #1 is gay, and #3 will probably lead to future trouble.

By the way, we now have a new reputation stat:  Mopsie.

***Option 2***

People were writing scandalous letters about us after a little hair-touching on a train, no way we're kissing Primrose's niece at her home at a high society event like this no matter how innocent the intention.

And I don't dislike Valentine, she just seems very poorly prepared for a career that's all about attention to detail and putting others first. And keep in mind she hasn't actually SAID anything negative, so I think the dislike she's getting is a little strong. She seems willing to be instructed, she may have just gotten more than expected with us as the Pure Essence of Butler.

...of course, this is still a CoG game and so it's possible the main point is to collect variously gendered waifus, and we're just playing it all wrong.

3, Mopsie is extremely annoying and I will do anything to make her life worse

#2. Figs did help us out on the train, as weird as it is to feel beholden to him. And plowing through romantic strangers is one thing - driving a wedge between friends of our employer is another.

Option 2. Option 1 is gay and Option 3 would prevent us from making her Catwoman.

"He spoke of you with obvious affection and longing."

"Of course he did," Mopsie says comfortably. "I would imagine he speaks of nothing else. I feel terrible for him, and I feel terrible for myself. I'm like a bird in…what is that thing that birds are in?"

"Gilded cages?"

"Yes, like a bird in a gilded cage. But I know you will free me, Pennyworth. You will help us be together. For who can stand in the way of true love?"

"How exactly do you want me to help?" you ask. Rory did seem to desire that Figs and Mopsie be united, but the situation appears rather difficult. "I believe that your aunt is firmly opposed."

"I d-don't know," she says, and then begins to seriously weep, and without warning dives into your chest, moistening you considerably. How do you respond?

1. I simply hold her and pat her back parentally.

2. I help her put this all in historical perspective.

3. I suggest how she can protest to Aunt Primrose effectively.

 

2

2, 1 is just plain out rude, and 3 is not going to go down well in the endgame so i choose 2.

It's not rude as in rude but compared to the other options of us giving advice it feels like the lesser option. 

I like to give actual advice or at least say something because for me personally it helps more than a pat on the back but I see where you are coming from with 1.

1!

2. It will also be useful - I want to know why Primrose dislikes Mopsie in particular.

Option 1, because option 2 isn't very helpful and option 3 will probably cause issues later

3

Whoops, that didn't break the tie at ALL!

Option 1

I simply hold her and pat her back parentally.

You hold her and rock her back and forth slightly. "Shh," you say, as if to a cranky infant, and pat her back awkwardly. "There, there. There, there. Hush now."

"I will not hush!" she says, pulling away from you. "I have been silent long enough!"

"Mopsie," you say, with consternation.

"I'm sorry, Pennyworth, I'm just leaping out of my skin, I'm so frustrated. I can't be babied! Not now! I've been treated like a baby my whole life. I'm a grown woman! I'm twenty years old, nearly twenty and a half!"

"I merely…"

"You mean well enough, Pennyworth, but it's no use! You treat me like a mewling infant. You cannot save me from my fate by whispering comforting, but in the end, meaningless nothings to me. I must fight. I will fight!"

And she runs away from you, into the house, still crying.

You briefly consider running after Mopsie, but decide that might be a bad idea. Instead, you enter Aunt Primrose's house, intending to find Rory and let him know that you have arrived.

Carlington, Aunt Primrose's imposing butler, greets you with a slight inclination of the head. "How do you do, Pennyworth."

"Good to see you, Carlington."

"You will find Mr. Wintermint staying in the Oak Room on the second floor, third door on your left."

"Thank you, Carlington."

"Your suitcases are just there, by the art gallery. You may wish to take them upstairs."

"Certainly."

You leave Carlington, and walk across the main hall to the art gallery at the end of the corridor.

Aunt Primrose's art gallery is a sunny display area for the various paintings, etchings, and sculptures she has collected over the years. Your suitcases are piled unceremoniously at the center of the room. You shake your head, reminding yourself to teach Valentine the importance of bringing the luggage straight up to the room.

You start to lift the suitcases, when you notice the sealed tube with Figs's awful portrait of Aunt Primrose in it. You consider it for a moment. You told Figs that you would take it, but noted that you ought to ask Rory for instructions before putting it up on the wall. However, you feel confident that, if asked, Rory would probably tell you to do anything that you feel would help Figs and Mopsie get together.

1. I'm going to go up to Rory and ask him what he wants me to do with the painting.

2. I know Rory will tell me to hang the painting, so I'll just do it.

3. Rory would surely tell me to dispose of the painting at once, so I'll destroy it.

 

1.

1, is it chill if I just hop in?

Of course!  This is chapter three, so if you haven't already, you may want to read the back story, all in the recent threads of Creative Corner.

Thanks! I'll start in on it.

1

1, because it might in a round abouot way give us permission to consider better ways to help Figs and Mopsie than Fig's plan.

And yikes, did our stat for Mopsie just plummet from 100% to 0%?

Mopsie is very capricious.

Welp that went well now didn't it. 

I choose 1. A good butler always asks.

Option 1

I'm going to go up to Rory and ask him what he wants me to do with the painting.

As you mentioned to Figs, you will be leaving the decision to Rory. You tote all of the luggage upstairs, the painting tube under one arm, and locate the Oak Room—certainly one of the more luxurious of the guest suites in Ritornello. Rory likes its east-facing patio, and that is where you find him, looking out at the world, picking at a plate of sliced apples and berries and sipping a ginger ale.

"I have arrived, sir."

"And perfectly punctual, as usual. All went well with the train?"

You clear your throat. "I shall inform you of the specifics of my travels if you wish, but before that, there is a piece of business I must inform you of."

"Oh?"

You produce the painting tube. "I have here in this tube a painting made by your friend Figs, whom I met on the journey."

"You don't say?" Rory opens the tube and starts to remove the contents.

"He implored me to take it, and asked that I hang it in your aunt's art gallery. He seemed to think that seeing his artwork in that context would make her see his true value as an artist and possible match for Mopsie. It seemed a far-fetched plan."

"And you said…?"

"I told him that I needed to consult you before accepting or rejecting his offer. It seemed the thing to do."

"Hm. I suppose so," Rory says, sighing. "I suppose old Figs does need our help. But I'm not certain this plan is the finest heir of his invention, as it were."

"That was similar to my train of thought," you say.

"Well, that's a thin slice of Figs," Rory chuckles, taking a sip of ginger ale.

"Now, before you unroll that portrait…"

But it is too late. Upon seeing the ghastly portrait, Rory spits out the mouthful of ginger ale all over it. "My god, Pennyworth!" Rory says, dropping the liquid-flecked painting.

"I know, sir."

"What is it?"

"It is intended to be a representation of your aunt, sir."

"No!"

"What would you like me to do with it?"

"Down the hall, in the library, there is a good fire raging. Burn it utterly, and then collect the ashes and burn them as well. Then disinfect your hands with bleach and lye and return at once."

You take the portrait, crumple it into a ball, and head down the hall towards the library, a hall decorated with a number of large, expensive-looking blue and white Ming-dynasty urns, nearly as tall as you are. You are nearly there when Colonel Firesnuff exits the library, and calls to you.

"Oh, it's you," he says, sourly.

"Yes. If I might step into the library…" But he doesn't move.

"What have you got there? That moist piece of paper."

You put your hand behind your back. "What piece of paper?"

"That piece of paper that was in your hand."

"No, I don't believe I have or had a piece of paper. I think I would know."

"It is perplexing to me why you would lie about having a piece of paper in your hand. It seems almost suspicious. You are a very suspicious person. Something about your physiognomy. But that is neither here nor there. I demand to see what is in your other hand."

1. I look him in the eye. "Why would I lie about having a piece of paper? Don't be an ass."

2. "It's wrapping paper for Rory's birthday gift for Mrs. Patterson. That's all."

3. I stealthily drop the painting into one of the big decorative urns.

OPTION 1

1.

I almost feel bad for Figs. He even helped us on the train!

But as to this new dillemna, hmm. Outright lying would be rather bold. It might increase suspicion though, and Firesnuff doesn't care for us much as it is. Dropping it in an urn is clever, but might just be pushing the problem down the road and could come back to haunt us. (And what if we break the urn?) Still, if anyone finds crumpled wet paper in an urn, are they likely to unwrap it? Probably not, a reasonable person would trash it. If they did unwrap it, they would likely think it strange scribbles and burn it themselves. 2 is an interesting ruse, but then we would be admitting to lying. But if he knows the paper is moist, he already got a clear enough view of it to be certain we are. And what if we were forced to actually wrap our present in front of him with the damp paper? It's a no go.

So it's difficult to decide, but #1 seems appropriately bold and doesn't risk breaking something expensive or having to actually use the painting as wrapping paper and offend Primrose and Figs both. So 1 it is, I guess. There better be fisticuffs with Firesnuff in our future at this rate, though.

1. Lets give this piece of shit a taste of his own medicine

1, well abrasiveness does seem to be our strong suit as it stands anyway

Also, all caught up now and this is fun! Thanks for putting this on here, Gower.

1 because we get to call someone an ass.

***Option 2***

Because everyone is going for Option 1 anyway, and this way I'm the only one in the clear if it backfires horribly.

When I played I went along with hanging up the painting, should be interesting to see what this changes.

I look him in the eye. "Why would I lie about having a piece of paper? Don't be an ass."

"Wha—that's…how dare…!" He is very much taken aback by your aggressive response, and his lips move for a while without anything polysyllabic emerging.

"I can take a joke, but you take it too far!" he cries. "You seem to desire me to teach you a lesson. A game, perhaps? To see how often you can provoke a trained warrior and live to tell the tale?"

You say nothing, but maintain your steady gaze upon him.

"I see," he says at last. "That is how it is."

"Yes, that is how it is."

He frostily departs without another word, aside from turning once to shake his fist at you.

The way now clear, you walk into the library, where you toss the wretched painting onto the fire and watch it turn to ash.

You return to Rory, now free of the portrait, if one can ever be said to be free of the horrifying image that the painting has etched into your memory.

"Has the matter been taken care of successfully?" Rory says, as you step in and close the door.

"It has," you say. "It need not enter our thoughts again."

"Thank God for that," Rory says. "Now, let us talk while you prepare my person for public consumption. My foxhunting outfit, if you please. How was your trip?"

"The trip went…reasonably well."

Rory places two cushions on the divan, and lies down with his feet on the cushions, hands folded under his head. "Tell me about your journey. Omit no detail, however slight."

While to the untrained eye, Rory seems content, your long years with him and your trained eye lead you to the conclusion that Rory is in fact ill at ease. Restless and anxious are the words that come to mind.

There are, of course, many ways to tell the tale of your recent train trip. You could try to make it a tale of dashing adventure, emphasizing your personal prowess and keen wit. You could offer amusing anecdotes, entertaining Rory with all of your absurd encounters, making the narrative as witty as possible, trying to make Rory laugh. Another option could be to offer an instructive lecture. Or, perhaps, you might offer a relatively tame version of your trip, in order to relax Rory.

1. I tell a tale of dashing adventure.

2. I offer witty repartee.

3. I offer a highly proper and slightly smug account of my trip, complete with moral instruction and finger wagging.

4. I ease his mind.

#2. Three doesn't seem best for this time, one is too full of bullshit, and four is boring.

Would pick one normally but.....

2!

I guess ***Option 2***, as no dashing adventure of note occurred and we even managed to fuck up buying a gift.

Ah come on, are we no longer the abrasive, snobbish British butler? Clearly it should be 3!
But fine fine. Perhaps this indeed is not the best time for this. I'll pick 4.

Option 2, obviously

2, if only because of how impressive it will be toake it sound amusing.

I'm picking 3 even though 2 looks like it's going to win anyway.

4, beee nice

I offer witty repartee.

You offer Rory a sparkling and witty version of your journey, relaying the most interesting and stimulating parts of some of the conversations you had.

As Rory listens with interest, frequently interrupting with questions, you regale Rory with descriptions of your verbal fencing with the colorful and perplexing Haze Vermillion, the hapless Figs, the irascible Col. Firesnuff, and your sudden trainee, young Valentine.

"Pennyworth, if I were not convinced of your tremendous verbal skills before, I am now. Your skill at rhetoric was very much…good. There, you see. I can't hope to reach your heights."

"Thank you, sir."

Rory puts his hands to his temples and begins to massage them. "Funny. You mentioned a Haze Vermillion. I have some passing familiarity with the Vermillions. From Northumberland, I believe. If I remember, back then, she called herself 'Hazel' Vermillion. I know the family slightly, but it was some years ago. Although it sounds as though she has…changed."

"I assume you refer to her singular appearance."

Rory shrugs. "As far as my memory goes she was a quiet, shy, and retiring sort. People do change, though."

"Shy and retiring would not accurately describe Haze."

"I do believe that she will be at the fox hunt, so I suppose I can see this striking coiffure for myself. Although I can't for the life of me imagine how she wangled an invite from Auntie."

As Rory talks, you think about Haze. It's so strange. You only interacted with her for a short time, but something about her made your experience with her such a prominent part of your trip here.

As you consider what to tell Rory, a question nags at you. Although all rules of propriety and class would forbid such fraternization, do you find yourself attracted to Haze?

1. Very, very much.

2. Yes, there's some attraction there.

3. Haze would be an charming and intriguing friend.

4. I don't know yet.

5. Certainly not.

6. In fact, I downright loathe Haze.

E: I'm also changing my vote to 5 because of what Camelon pointed out. We're the sofisticated British butler. We don't pay any attention to such trash at all.

6

5. I am tempted towards six, but that would be too much emotion spent on the matter. Loathing would give her an apartment in Pennyworth's head, and all that. Better to remain the butler above all such nonsense.

Option 5

Certainly not.

You push away that thought with a shake of your head. This has nothing to do with attraction. Rory simply asked about an interesting person you met. And Haze certainly was "of interest" in a manner of speaking.

Rory suddenly jumps up. "Oh, Pennyworth, I've just remembered: What about the birthday gift for Aunt Primrose?" Rory looks through the luggage, in search of it.

"Ah yes, the birthday gift," you say. You tensely reach into one of the bags and pull out the needlepoint.

As you smooth it out, however, you notice a significant problem. The needlepoint that you had thought, in your rush to purchase something, said, "GOD BLESS THIS HOME," in fact, reads "GOD FLESS THIS HOME."

"Oh," you say, examining the words again. Yes, it definitely says "FLESS."

"That doesn't look much like a peridot hairstick," says Rory. "What have you got there?"

"I'm afraid it is a needlepoint," you say. "The peridot hairstick was unobtainable."

"A needlepoint? Let me see it."

1. I honestly point out the "FLESS" problem to Rory.

2. I show it to him quickly so that he won't notice.

3. I make a compelling case that "fless" is an actual word, and indeed is supposed to be there.

***Option 1***

I have been convinced. Fooling Rory won't be enough. Hope there will be a way to fix this.

1. If we point out the problem now, there's still time to get something better for Aunt Primrose, so she doesn't murder us.

#1. I am sure Pennyworth could pull 3 off, but would he desire to lie to Rory when the real recipient will be Primrose? You need a plan B. Maybe you can wrap up one of Rory's lapel pins and pretend it is a hair pin, or go pick some flowers from the garden. Steal some wine from the cellar and pretend it is from us. Or burn it all - a house fire would be an excellent excuse to not have a gift.

Or, pull out a needlepoint kit and turn it into a B. An F only needs three more little lines....but why bother?  It sounds like a terrible gift even with the proper term.

Option 1- I don't really want to lie to Rory and honestly it seems like a problem that can be fixed easily, either by purchasing a new gift or changing the 'f' into a 'b'

Changed my vote to 1.

Akshually

https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Fless

Option 3 please

Let’s go with 1

1. I would do 3 if it were just for Rory, but antagonizing Primrose seems like it will make life harder for everyone. 

I honestly point out the "FLESS" problem to Rory.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I hadn't realized it until this moment, but there is an orthographical error on the needlepoint." You point to the offending word.

"'GOD FLESS THIS HOME,'" Rory reads. "Well, that's a problem, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Aunt Primrose will hardly be likely to display this above her hearth."

"No, sir."

"And yet I suppose this is all I have. I do appreciate your honesty. I might not have noticed on a quick glance. But I prefer to know. Now, what do you think? Should we give it to her, or no?"

1. "Yes, we should. Leave it to me."

2. "I suspect not. Better to give nothing than a flawed gift."

3. "Let's see if I can turn that F into a B quickly and undetectably."

3. Shouldn't be hard...Shouldn't.

3, doesn't hurt to try?

If our only other option is to give nothing, than better do #3. Pennyworth probably knows how to mend a suit in a pinch like any good butler, and cross-stitch is pretty simple, so this shouldn't be too hard.

Option 3- hopefully Pennyworth can pull this off though...

Option 1

Just in case this backfires, I’ll be the only one who doesn’t take any blame. 

I’ll probably (definitely) be overruled anyway...

***Option 3***

If we fuck it up, hopefully there's still the option to not give it to her.

"Let's see if I can turn that F into a B quickly and undetectably."

"Do you really think you can?" asks Rory, breathlessly.

"Perhaps." You smooth the needlepoint in front of you. "What if I simply drew in the rest of the B with some paint? That might serve."

"Pray that it does!" Rory says. "How can I help?"

"Rest yourself, sir. I am trained for this sort of emergency."

You fetch Rory's shoe polish kit, and find some likely colors to blend to match the brown lettering on the needlepoint.

Then, using his spare toothbrush, the polish, and some artistic talent, you work to transform "FLESS" into "BLESS."

"There," you say at last.

"Is it good? I can't tell," Rory says. "Because I know what you've done."

"I can't tell either," you admit. "I don't know what someone would say who didn't know. But I think it will work."

"I trust you," Rory says.

You work to ensure that Rory looks acceptable, but Rory keeps pacing around. "Nearly time, Pennyworth. Time to face the family and friends, and so forth. Must be at my best, you know."

"Of course. If you would kindly…"

"A man must look his best." Rory gnaws at a fingernail, and begins to muss his hair. "For such an important occasion. Where I would prefer to be is at home. I'm picturing a beverage with ice and some sort of action-adventure novel. Perhaps I'll do some jumping jacks to use up some excess nervous energy."

1. "Sir! I really must ask you to stand still at once if you would like to be properly dressed!"

2. "I wonder if you might make your movements somewhat less exuberant."

3. "Oh, go ahead and do your jumping jacks, then."

That is the most convoluted way to 'fix' a cross-stitch. Why, Pennyworth, why? Even I could cross-stitch! It's just little x's with thread, like you would do if stitching back on one of Rory's buttons! What would make you think of using shoe polish? If Aunt Primrose runs her white gloves over it to feel the thread, she'll get a stain! Burn it, burn it now!


#1, I guess. It would be nice to let Rory let off some of his fidgets, but he's already wrecking his appearance, and two might not be strong enough to get through to him.

3. Sassy butler! Might as well raise that abrasiveness.

I agree though, I was thinking he would whip out the sewing kit not smear shoe polish on fabric. This will end badly.

Changing to 1, upon rereading it is the better option. 

...paint looks nothing like stitching. Fuck, can't we just tell her we ordered her a present but the post office screwed up? Have Rory go outside and pick some flowers? Anything?


Option 3

Let him get it out of his system. This is going to be a disaster either way.

3

Alfred has failed us. All is meaningless. #3.

What gave him the idea to use shoe polish instead of a simple cross-stitch? Oh well, it's done now. In this case, I'll go for option 1. No need for him to ruin his appearance as well.

"Sir! I really must ask you to stand still at once if you would like to be properly dressed!"

"Oh. Hm. I suppose you will have your way, won't you, Pennyworth? So be it. Do your worst upon my person."

Rory looks annoyed, but stops moving around. At least you can complete dressing him more efficiently now.

You put the finishing touches on Rory's outfit, making minute adjustments to ensure that he looks to his best advantage.

The result, if you do say so yourself, is certainly an improvement. Rory strikes various poses in front of the mirror, admiring himself in his dark green wool tweed hacking jacket with a hound's-tooth pattern. A crisp pair of cream-colored breeches and dark brown boots complete the outfit.

"The three buttons, of course, remain closed during the hunt, sir," you note.

"Naturally," Rory says, adjusting his tie, and accepting his top hat from you.

"What do you think? How do I look?"

1. "Perfectly adequate, sir."

2. "Frankincense's heart will skip a beat, no doubt."

3. "To be perfectly honest, you look rather unwell."

 

But what's that?  There's an additional game to read?

Here is my new CYS storygame--Private Game for Natalie.  Read this one while you await your update, and rate it wisely.  Many endings.

"Dear Natalie,

I think putting a link to this in the most popular thread on the forum means it will be set to private and our intimate moments will be hidden away from prying eyes."

I got mad at her and now want to reveal her deepest, most intimate secrets to everyone.  Did you *see* the comment she left on the game?

Can't really go wrong with ***Option 2***, let's give him some confidence.

#2

"Frankincense's heart will skip a beat, no doubt."

"That is kind of you to say so," Rory says. "I hope I don't look too good. There are only so many heartbeats that ought to stop, all in a row. There are limits."

"I look forward to seeing the two of you together," you say. "You will be a happy couple."

"Y-yes," Rory says, hesitating, and lingering before leaving the room. "It's just…"

He falls silent.

1. "Sir?"

2. "…just that you don't want to be married?"

3. "…just that you love her more than you can say?"

1. Not going to make guesses, because I feel like it will be something entirely different

Option 1

1. Better not to put words in his mouth.

2

1

?

My choices are so good, you *can't* pick just one.

:(

1 

1

"Sir?"

"Nothing," Rory says. "Let's join the others. I'll tell you what. Kindly observe Frankincense and me when we are together. Then offer your candid opinion about the two of us."

"Certainly," you say. And then, together, you leave the room and head down the stairs.

"I'm sure you are right," Rory says, as you walk. "About the heart skipping a beat."

You nod slightly.

"As always, you are my pillar and my rock."

"Of course."

And, thus engaged in serious conversation, you reach the first floor.

The great front hall of Ritornello is busier than when you entered: Assorted servants are rushing about making preparations for the feast to come. Footmen, bearing wicker cornucopias full of sunflowers, orange dahlias, and pied red-and-yellow daisies for centerpieces shimmer past, preparing the dinner table for the evening's repast.

As you cross the hall, you notice a gray-haired woman in a simple black dress standing in the doorway of the billiard room. The keys at her waist mark her as Aunt Primrose's housekeeper, in charge of the upstairs, and second only to Carlington, the butler. She must be new; Aunt Primrose does go through housekeepers.

She catches your eye as you pass. "I beg your pardon, Pennyworth, but I have some important questions to ask you. If you wouldn't object, would you come this way?" She motions to the billiard room.

"I am about to head out to the hunt," you say.

"This will just take a moment," she says. You look towards Rory. He has become engaged in an animated conversation with Carlington, and probably wouldn't notice if you slipped away for a moment. You follow her into the billiard room.

"I am Regina. Regina Wilhelmina," she says, after shutting the door firmly. "We don't have much time, so I will be efficient. Take a seat by the fire, and I will sit at the window seat, facing another direction. If either of us senses danger, work the phrase 'moray eel' into the conversation. Do you understand?"

1. "I understand. Let us begin."

2. "I demand to know what this is all about!"

3. "Moray eel?"

We have a new stat:  Regina.

2

probably a bad time to ask

but...dont want to spoil the code phrase, or pretend to understand when we're not sure what the fuck she is going on about

1, because Pennyworth is trained enough to respect her efficiency and bold enough to embrace the absurd.

Edit: I like the added touch of all the flowers being in autumn colors, as Pennyworth does seem to embrace the season.

I'm going to assume this is known territory for butlers/housekeepers and go with 1.

***Option 3***

Because wtf.

1. Because even though we have no idea what is going on, it is funnier this way.

Option 2

what the fuck is happening right now

1. We just need to be patient, and everything'll be revealed soon enough. Perhaps this's just another test.

Option 1

"I understand. Let us begin."

"Good," she says. "I appreciate your willingness to take instruction."

"Naturally," you say, all poise.

"Now, you may call me Mrs. Regina Wilhelmina in this professional setting, but you should be aware that it may become necessary to use code names. I am Midnight Thorn."

"Midnight Thorn."

"Just so. And I shall call you 'Dandelion.'"

 

1. "All right, 'Dandelion' it is."

2. "Actually, I prefer 'Shadowstealth.'"

3. "How about, 'Savage Wendigo'"?

4. "I think 'Cupcakes' would be a better pseudonym."

5. "I'll make up my own nom de guerre, thank you."

 

#3:

 

Efficient is one thing, being a pushover is another. If she really fears we have little time to talk, she won't argue. Plus, the codename of a flesh eating monster sounds intense.

Shadowstealth would be a close second, though.

5

.....EndMaster

1. It's not dandelion season iirc, but it's still the least strange sounding code name, easy enough to mention in light conversation without nearby ears perking up. Easier than Midnight Thorn, that's for sure.

Although, I wonder what would happen if we picked 5, which I assume let's us choose our own code name, and wrote in Pennyworth. Would the game notice? Probably not. Or perhaps Figs. What a better way to make Aunt Primrose like him than to make her believe he's some secret spy? :)

Option 3

Because Dandelion isn’t imposing enough.

"How about, 'Savage Wendigo'"?

"It's a bit of a blunt approach, don't you think? Suggests a sort of brute force." She sighs. "Oh, all right. Although now I'm going to have to change all the paperwork. I don't begrudge you the choice. Many do like to choose their own name."

"Now what exactly are we talking about? I'm terribly bewildered," you say, as Regina jots a few notes.

"Yes, I suppose you will need to be briefed, Savage Wendigo. You are, I assume, quite familiar with the Cadbury Club."

"Of course. That's the club that I'm a member of. The Cadbury Club for Those Who Serve. The most exclusive organization for servants in the world."

"Then surely you have heard of the Cadbury Club Inner Circle."

1. "Any polished servant has heard of that august society, although I don't have much hope of being admitted."

2. "Yes. Secret societies are not particularly of interest to me. I prefer to live a quieter, less complex life."

3. "Do you…have inside information about the Inner Circle? I'd like very much to hear—unless it is against the rules."

4. "I assume this is related to Valentine's testing of me for the Inner Circle."

Option 4

Bluff time.

4

Perhaps Pennyworth himself is becoming Batman, while Rory plays the Bruce Wayne facade. He could be a good assassin butler, at the least...

Musings aside, going with the pack on this one. #4 seems a confident but not uninterested choice.

Option 4

"I assume this is related to Valentine's testing of me for the Inner Circle."

She swings around and looks at you.

"Valentine? Who is Valentine? What are you talking about?"

1. "Nothing. Never mind."

2. "A young woman gave me this letter of introduction from the Inner Circle today."

3. "Did I say something wrong? I'm terribly confused."

#2. Embrace the insanity. She may be mad, but she is interesting. And if there are dueling factions among the Inner Circle, or if Valentine is a spy, I want to know. Plus, while Pennyworth is considerate of his employer and friends, there is no reason he cannot speak of Valentine. Also, this lady seems to know everyone by their code name, so maybe Valentine has one.

And maybe this lady has a hair pin or handkerchief on her we can pilfer if we keep her talking...

Anyway, if Pennyworth is to give up on Rory and become Batman himself, he has to do some detective work.

2!

#2. We have nothing to hide.

1

Option 2

"A young woman gave me this letter of introduction from the Inner Circle today."

You hand the letter to Regina—Midnight Thorn—and she reads it quickly. Then she pulls out a small book, and looks back and forth between the letter and the book for a while.

"No, it is inauthentic, I believe," she says at last, tearing the letter up. "An imposter. But what would that mean? A double agent, perhaps."

"What on earth is going on?" you say.

"Let me begin at the beginning, then. Although I am rather shaken up by news of an enemy agent placed among us."

She sits taller in her seat. "Now, listen carefully. The Cadbury Club Inner Circle is for the most elite members, for those in service who have attained the peak of their position."

"Yes, so the new members say in hushed voices." You imagine what your peers would say, if they knew that you were being considered.

"You are being considered for admission into the Inner Circle, and you are being evaluated for your suitability."

1. "Yes. That is consistent with what Valentine told me."

2. "I understand perfectly."

3. "You may as well call off the test as a great waste of time, as I'm certain to be voted in."

4. "Me? I am hardly the right person for such an august society!"

5. "I wonder to what extent a small cash gift would help to influence my evaluator."

Option 3, obviously.

And I guess we're in a spy movie now. But does Regina know the secret handshake??

...too bad it's too late to find out if she knows how to cross stitch.

3

Testing Pennyworth is....worthless

#1. Pennyworth must get to the bottom of this mystery. Plus, Valentine with her shoddy uniform and bad habits does seem suspicious. Maybe not a double agent, but still suspicious. And Regina seems highly organized, even if potentially crazy.

Option 1- because I really want to know what's going on here. Maybe Regina is really the one who's fake? I don't know. We need more information.

Option 3

Pennyworth is not to be doubted.

"You may as well call off the test as a great waste of time, as I'm certain to be voted in."

"I did see some mention of a potentially brash attitude in your file. It was noted neither in the 'positive' column nor the 'negative' column, but in a special column all its own labeled with a question mark. I mention it merely as fair warning."

There is an uncomfortable silence, and then, she goes on.

"The Inner Circle is an alliance of talented and polished servants who are dedicated to maintaining the safety and serenity of their employers at all costs. There are those who may wish our employers ill—to embarrass them socially, perhaps. We are the last line of defense."

"But surely we all maintain the safety and serenity of our employers," you say.

"Of course we do, Savage Wendigo. But we in the Inner Circle are tasked with solving the most intractable of problems. The perfect lady's maid or gentleman's gentleman is expected to extract their employer from absurdly complex problems as if it were nothing at all. This would be impossible if we did not exist, working behind the scenes. We become involved when all seems lost."

"So the Inner Circle are…secret agents?"

"That's such a gauche term," she says, frowning.

You hear the yowling of the hounds outside, and Aunt Primrose's booming voice crying out that all must assemble outside the front door at once on pain of her displeasure.

"Our time is limited," says Regina. "But you should know that there is a serious problem brewing, and I will need your help. I have reason to believe there is an evildoer here at Ritornello who means to do Aunt Primrose some serious harm. It is not yet clear to me whether it is a foreign agent or some sort of maniacal saboteur."

"No!"

"I'm afraid so, Savage Wendigo. I will need you to join me on a subtle and time-sensitive mission. You may be able to assist me; how you do so is up to you. You might find an excuse to leave the hunt and make your way back here, so that you can thoroughly search the guest rooms to look for compromising information. Or, if you prefer, you could remain with the hunt, and shrewdly interrogate the guests to discover if they have any malicious motives." She taps her chin. "It would also be rather useful to have a thorough investigation of this Valentine character. I am most concerned. I suppose if the opportunity comes up you might do that in addition to your primary objective."

What do you say?

1. "I will make my way back here and search the rooms."

2. "I will interrogate people."

3. "This is madness. I'm not helping you."

2

Time to find out where the trigger is

The obvious answer of a sane person is 3, but I do love to snoop..... Let's go with ***Option 1***.

Pennyworth is on the case! But what to choose...his skills do not seem to favor one over the other. And some people don't like him. Still, interrogation is faster, and Pennyworth might be above invading the privacy of guests trusting in Primrose's hospitality.

 

So, #2.

2. That way, we can still keep an eye on Rory. We can't just leave him, who knows what hi might do wrong!

Option 1- we get to snoop (assuming we don't get caught) and maybe even talk to Valentine?

2. That way we also don't look so suspicipus ourselves. Also, I like the Big No.

"I will interrogate people."

"Excellent," she says. "Look for hidden motives, obvious lies and evasions, and those who might be here under false pretences. Farewell. This is a promising start for you, Savage Wendigo."

She peeks out the door to ensure that nobody is near. "Wait ten seconds before exiting," she says, and then she leaves.

You count ten, and then follow, heading out the front door to join Rory and the others.

All have assembled outside, and the white horses are being brought out and assigned to guests; traditionally, there would be a Master of the Hunt, but Aunt Primrose, a very keen hunter since she was a young woman, has taken that responsibility upon herself. As a group of six servants, in hunting outfits, bring a pack of eager hounds out of the kennels, Aunt Primrose talks to each of the dogs, stroking them and inquiring whether or not they are ready to catch a fox.

Col. Firesnuff talks to Mopsie, who is yawning without attempting to hide it, as he tells her about his adventures spelunking in Bechuanaland. Rory is talking to Carlington the butler and a man in a trench coat, with a police badge pinned to it, who listens closely to Rory and scribbles furiously in a small notebook with the word "CLUES" on the front.

The detective looks up as you arrive. "Inspector Ambrose," he says. "Nice to meet you. You must be Pennyworth. No, no, don't ask how I figured it out. Deduction. Science of detecting, you know. I am here in a professional capacity, to find and bring to justice the infamous sneak thief 'Light-Fingered Lou.'" He pauses and studies your features for a long time, before nodding slowly and tapping his chin.

"We will now have the customary glass of wine before setting out!" Aunt Primrose says, fairly skipping with excitement. "Everyone join me just over here by the fountain. We shall all drink to the success of our hunt, and enjoy a slice of cake in honor of my birthday!"

The fountain is a patinaed bronze sculpture of Sir Francis Drake holding a spyglass to his eye. The sculpture has been poorly cast, and the left side of Sir Francis's face aligns unevenly with the right side. Sparkling water flows out of the lopsided spyglass and into a basin held by the personifications of Fortitude and Temperance. It often comes up in conversation between you and Rory when either of you wishes to reach for a reference point for something unbelievably ugly or in bad taste.

You take a moment, as always, to marvel at just how ugly that fountain is.

"Hey, you," comes a voice slightly behind you. "It's good to see you."

It's Haze. Her purple hair flies around in the wind. Haze was standing alone, you realize now, and even as you speak, you see Mopsie looking at you incredulously, as if to say, 'Why are you talking to her?'"

"I'm pleased as punch to see you," Haze says with zest. "Finally some life in this gathering."

"Not very exciting, then, out here?"

She sweeps her arm around in a show of mock grandeur. "Not particularly. I hope you'll come riding with us. You can ride with me."

Haze's eyes positively gleam at you.

1. I make a noncommittal noise, and then move to rejoin Rory.

2. "Kindly refrain from addressing me from now on, please."

3. "That sounds like fun."

4. "If I am able to, but I may have other responsibilities."

 

 

3

I am suspicious of her and need to get close to get info

1. I don't want to talk to her, but two is a little too direct

1. Haze is pretty suspicious already (especially given her characterization by Rory as a mousy, shy girl, and her request that we steal champagne) so we will need to interrogate her later. Being entirely rude might cause her not to talk to us at all. Still, Pennyworth should probably start with Rory - both to set him out right on the hunt and gather information about the guests from him. Furthermore, Mopsie is watching and 3/4 would just be grounds for gossip.

I make a noncommittal noise, and then move to rejoin Rory.

"Leaving already? Do you not like me, then?"

"Good day, Haze."

"For my part, I liked you the moment I saw you. I live on instinct. And when I saw you, I said to myself that this is someone with whom I will click."

"There will be no clicking of any kind. Now please excuse me."

Haze sighs and steps aside. "This is very tiresome, you know. But I do adore hunting. I never stop, really."

You do not dignify that remark with any further response, but instead join Rory.

Mopsie rolls her eyes at you in sympathy for your having to talk to Haze, and you can tell she approves of the way you dismissed her.

Everyone is assembled near the fountain, ringed with honeysuckle shrubs. Next to the fountain is a feature you have never seen here before. A great pen made of gold-colored wire mesh standing about ten feet high holds three full-grown peafowl. A peacock struts about, train feathers fully extended in a riot of iridescent green and blue; a peafowl and a peahen, nearby, ignore the display entirely and groom their feathers in a noncommittal manner.

"My pride and joy," says Aunt Primrose, looking at her birds indulgently. "Sanchi-San, Galatea, and Orlando are my entrants into the Exotic Animal Show at the Harvest Festival, as you may know. They will do me proud. I have been raising them for months and months on a very special diet. They are certain to receive the blue ribbon." She bares her teeth at Col. Firesnuff.

"Stuff and nonsense, Primrose," he says. "You will have to resign yourself to the red or yellow ribbon…again. I have a very special entry that puts yours to shame."

"A laughable proposition," Aunt Primrose says. "You will eat those words. And, I don't mind saying, your team will also lose the boat race. You had best get used to losing."

Col. Firesnuff laughs and laughs. "Oh, Primrose, you are a card."

Aunt Primrose perches on a campstool near the peafowl pen, accepting birthday wishes and small gifts from her guests with the air of a magnanimous empress receiving homage from visiting dignitaries. The cake, on a wheeled cart, is Aunt Primrose's favorite, Battenberg cake. Footmen slice and distribute the checkerboard yellow-and-pink sponge cake, slathered in apricot jam, wrapped in marzipan, and decorated with autumn leaves made of spun sugar.

"Very nice," she says, as one of her neighbors gives her a set of three lavender candles wrapped in ribbon. "Very thoughtful indeed," she says. "Good to have one's birthday appreciated. Makes one feel valued." She looks to Mopsie.

Mopsie looks cross and approaches Aunt Primrose. "If I were not imprisoned on the estate, I could have given you a better present," she protests loudly, hitting such a pitch on the word "imprisoned" that some of the hounds perk up. "I have made homemade stationery for you, pressed with wildflowers."

"Ah," says Aunt Primrose. "You know perfectly well why I am keeping you here. So that you do not mix with that Figs person, as you call him."

"You may use that stationery to write me an apology note when you later realize you have done me wrong," Mopsie says, and steps away from Aunt Primrose. You can see that Rory is slowly nodding in solidarity with his cousin.

1. I wink at Mopsie to let her know that I, too, approve of her rebellious nature.

2. I give Mopsie an admonishing look.

3. I raise one eyebrow to suggest to Rory that he ought to make less of a show of support for Mopsie in public.

 

3. I want to try that cake now. Also, there is a peacock, a peahen, and one specifically called a peafowl. Is there a non-binary PEAFOWL in this game? Smh

Mopsie is back to liking us! There is just no middle ground with her.

And we've learned a potential motive for shenanigans from Col. Firesnuff- he's competitive with Primrose in at least two areas.
Haze's line about always being on the hunt is also suspicious - a thief would always be hunting for marks, after all.
Technically, Mopsie also has a motive - she feels restricted/oppressed by Primrose keeping her from Figs.

But then again, we don't know what the potential crime even is or if one will even happen. Theft, probably, with one of our suspects turning out to be Lou, but there is no guarantee.

I'm going to go with #1. Pennyworth, based on previous interactions, seems to show more emotion around Mopsie than most; Rory is in decently good graces with his aunt, and Primrose likely already knows he is friends with Fig and not a great judge of character; and maybe supporting Mopsie in her rebellion will induce her to forgive us for treating her like a baby. More importantly, though, Mopsie seems like she would be forthcoming in an interrogation (i.e. a gossip.)

3 would be fine as well, though.

Rory's "gift" is coming up. This could turn disasterous.

It's been 8 hours, but I'll leave this up longer because just two votes is lame.

Option 3

 

Mopsie's feelings are irrelevant, our literal *job* is to keep Rory in his aunt's good graces. 

Also I'm really proud of you guys for handling the Haze interaction correctly, good to know I can count on you all.

oh my goodness I got so far behind on this! 

Gonna go with Option 1. I quite like Mopsie, and this seems like the most entertaining option. 

3

3 because if the flyest hick says it I guess it's sometimes kinda true

I raise one eyebrow to suggest to Rory that he ought to make less of a show of support for Mopsie in public.

Rory sees your raised eyebrow, and looks down as Aunt Primrose harrumphs imperiously.

"Was I nodding?" Rory murmurs to you.

"You were, sir. It would be best to maintain what some call a 'poker face' in front of your aunt."

"Thank you, Pennyworth," Rory whispers.

As Mopsie passes, she offers Rory and you a hurt, tear-streaked face. "You could support me, you know," she hisses as she walks past, ringlets bouncing furiously.

Luckily, Col. Firesnuff steps forth before any further words can be exchanged.

"Primrose," says Col. Firesnuff. "I'm a man of few words, as everyone knows. And I'm not much for sentiment and all that rot. When you've charged across a field of hedgerows under heavy mortar fire at dawn, one doesn't think too much of birthdays." He pauses to eat a bite of cake. "And yet, as I think people generally know, I am not to be outdone when it comes to giving gifts. And so I have brought you this small token of my esteem. And I hope that it will soften the blow when my entries crush your entries at the Harvest Festival."

"Ha!" booms Aunt Primrose. "Let's see this gift."

"I have here a fine lace doily," Firesnuff says, displaying it. "It will serve to place things on top of. I believe that is what one does with a doily. To be quite honest, I don't quite know. But it is quite dainty."

"Yes, yes, very nice, Firesnuff," she says. "A doily, you say. Well, it's a nice thought. Such as it is."

"I had intended to purchase something else. Something more befitting the occasion. But there were…obstacles." Here, he fixes you with a challenging look. "Suffice to say the fault was not mine."

"Thank you, Colonel," she says.

It is now time for Rory to give his gift to Aunt Primrose, but he doesn't step forward.

"Go on, sir," you say.

"You present it, Pennyworth," whispers Rory. "I'm too nervous."

"All right, sir. If that's what you want."

You take the repaired needlepoint and briefly hold it up before the assembled guests.

"A needlepoint, is it?" Aunt Primrose asks. "Let's see!"

Should you try to keep Aunt Primrose from closely examining the needlepoint using sleight of hand, distract her with some sort of diversion, or should you try to present it as a one-of-a-kind artisanal needlepoint with an attractively rustic flaw?

1. I'll use a bit of sleight of hand to keep the lettering just out of her sight.

2. I point out the interestingly artistic "flaw" in the needlepoint.

3. I distract Aunt Primrose by calling attention to a neighbor of hers who has not given her gift yet.

We made the correct decision. Also, #2. We can't hide this forever.

#2

It's not a bug, it's a feature. Seems like a solid plan F.

Option 2- we can't hide it so might as well point it out

I point out the interestingly artistic "flaw" in the needlepoint.

"That mark on the letter B," you say, "is part of the charm of that needlepoint. It demonstrates a rustic quality."

"Is that so? Because it looks awful."

"Looking awful is merely another name for charming rusticity," you argue, but she is not to be swayed. She picks at the needlepoint, flaking away your attempt at disguising the flawed spelling.

"'GOD FLESS THIS HOME,'" she says. "Fless."

"Does it say that? What a lark," you say.

"Ha, ha," says Rory.

But Aunt Primrose is not at all amused. "Did you purchase a defective gift, realize it after the fact, and then attempt to cover it up using some sort of cheap pigment, believing that I would not notice such a shabby attempt at chicanery?"

"It sounds so bad the way you say it," Rory mumbles.

"I am disappointed in you both. That is all. Let us move on to rosier subjects." As Aunt Primrose mingles with her guests, Col. Firesnuff accosts you and Rory, hands behind his back, leaning slightly forward as if keenly anticipating this conversation.

"Well, well, well," he says, sniffing. "It seems that I am the superior gift-giver. I think that is beyond argument."

"I…suppose so?" Rory says, surprised. "I was not aware that we were competing in that manner. But…congratulations?"

"You have to get up pretty early in the morning to outgift a Firesnuff. That's my motto," he says, thumping his chest.

"That's a very specific motto," Rory says.

"And as for you, Pennyworth…don't feel too bad. A Firesnuff never loses. That's my other motto. I have two."

And with those parting words, Col. Firesnuff snaps to attention and joins Aunt Primrose. They, and the other guests, mount their horses, and you aid Rory to mount his horse as well. The Master of Hounds is heading into the woods, and the hunters are just about to set off behind him.

An air of excitement fills the hunting party, and Aunt Primrose shouts with glee, "Yoicks and tallyho! Let's go!" She kicks her heels and leads the party off to the sound of horns and hounds.

They do not wait, alas, for Rory, whose horse is slowly turning in a complete circle.

"Just a moment!" he calls. "Forward, Cinnamon Bun! Yah!"

You are working with Rory to explain the proper order of things to Cinnamon Bun when a familiar voice calls out.

"Rory…and Pennyworth! I'm so sorry I'm late!"

And riding up, looking magnificently elegant as ever, is Rory's bride-to-be, Frankincense Cygnet-Signet.

 

Continued in the Tally Ho, Chapter Four thread!

 

So, we are done with Chapter Three, and it's time for my brief post-mortem on it.  Chapter Three is an interesting one in terms of the work it does, but pretty straightforward in effect.

It has to introduce you to the half of the game that you missed in Chapter Two (in your case you had to meet Inspector Ambrose and Regina).  In Chapter Two it is very possible if you never took the second class car that you wouldn't have met Haze, so Chapter Three has to introduce you to Haze if you haven't already, and it gives you a second whole new conversation with Haze if you did meet her in ch. 2.   Or you can just blow her off, as you did.

You meet Valentine right at the start of the chapter, and Frankincense in the final moment of the chapter.

This chapter also introduces you to Mopsie, but I let chapters one and two do a lot of that work for me, because by the time you met you, you'd already had two conversations about her.  See, clever.  Finally, this chapter introduces a few minor characters who you'll run into several times--Carlington the butler, and the three birds, Sanchi-san, Galatea, and Orlando.

By the time this chapter is over, you know the great majority of everyone you'll meet in this game.  It is one of the most difficult tasks for a choice game writer to create an ensemble piece with a dozen major characters and ensure that the reader knows who everyone is, and has definite opinions about that.  I did that by giving each character very distinctive speech patterns as well as a lot of stage time.  The game is designed (as you'll soon see) to let you pick who to spend most of your time with, so the first three chapters are set up to give you the information you need to make an informed decision.

The big question in the chapter is "what did you do with Figs's painting?" which obviously will affect things down the road, and we have the birthday gift giving, which has a lot of little stat ripples in how characters act later.  Naturally we're skipping merrily past all the romantic moments.

Chapter Three was pretty easy for me to write.  It was pretty straightforward and fun.  Which was lucky, because Chapter Four nearly killed this project dead.

 

 

But what's the deal with the non-binary peafowl? D:

It's just a mild joke.  I promise you that will not become an important plot point.  That's for the sequel.

Oooooooh