Multi Author Tale...

[load-of-flannel.livejournal.com]

So anyhow heres a paragraph feel free to continue with your own paragraphs as comments. Maybe we can actually finish the tale...


It was later than usual when the visitor came. A soft buzzing aroused Jameson from his reverie. Crossing to the intercom he glared briefly at the figure in the great coat on the monitor and buzzed them into the foyer. It would take two minutes for the visitor to reach this floor. Jameson downed the dregs of his whisky and prepared himself. All of the necessaries were ready. An old Valise sat on the floor; black, battered and faded it was, illegible travel labels adorning its surface. On the coffee table the first edition lay, its black leather binding still supple after many years of good care. A pack of cards in a dog-eared and curiously stained box sat next to it. The cane lay across the opposite armchair, slender and black, its heavy silver embossed handle glinting in the reflected light of the open fire in the hearth. Jameson surveyed the scene and sighed heavily, it seemed too early for these things, but then it always did. He lowered the lights in the room to a level more acceptable to his guest and lay back in his armchair. He removed a small pipe from his pocket and having filled the bowl with flakes of Peyote button, pure opium and plug tobacco he set a light to it, inhaled deeply and awaited his guest.

Comments

[nyarbaggytep.livejournal.com]

"Jamessson" the great coated figure hissed softly as it entered his room. "I'd love to say it's a pleassure, but we both know it would not be true." A strange creaking noise that could have been laughter issued from beneath the brim of the visitor's hat. Jameson inhaled deeper.

[romney.livejournal.com]

The visitor crossed to the chair, booted feet soundless on the thick carpet, but sliding through the heavy pile as if forcing a way through the neglected grass of a graveyard. The cane was snatched up into an eager right hand, on the third finger of which the embossed signet ring clearly matched the cane-handle.

[load-of-flannel.livejournal.com]

Jameson did not let his gaze linger on the figure opposite, he had never truly seen the person before as he had to his certain knowledge never looked directly at them. In a way dulling his senses with the potent mix in his pipe was a way of avoiding truly having to deal with that person.

"You may say what you wish." said Jameson, "The cane is yours again. take it. I have done with it."

"I wasss not going to ask permission Jamessson" hissed the figure, "you know the price involved, you knew when you took the cane, I hope you got what you wisssshed forr..."

"I would not," said Jameson drawing heavily on the pipe and attempting not to look at the figure stood by the other chair, "I would not wish for anything in your presence as well you know. As for prices, well, then that is negotiable as I am sure you will remember." and with a wave of his hand he indicated the other items.

"What purrpossse have thosssse to me?"

"None at all! It is in where they come from that their value lies," and Jameson stood suddenly, "now sit!" he said in a voice that was not all of his own,"Behave according to your station and listen."

Re:

[nyarbaggytep.livejournal.com]

Ahhh, here was the guardian, met tet.

"Dambalah-wedo! Down, serpent, I know your true form!"

The visitor cowered, but still spoke. "What is the point of thisss? Our deal is concluded, Houngan. Now let me leave!"

That voodoo that you do so well

[romney.livejournal.com]

So he's visited by the spirit of Cole Porter, or what?

Re: That voodoo that you do so well

[nyarbaggytep.livejournal.com]

Perhaps ;)
I can take it out and do summat else if you guys don't like that part?

The moving finger writes, and having written moves on

[romney.livejournal.com]

No, no we can go with it - I just thought you might have intended that bit to be a sideline as it was off the main thread.

[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<clears [...] throat,>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]

No, no we can go with it - I just thought you might have intended that bit to be a sideline as it was off the main thread.

<Clears throat, and continues>

[romney.livejournal.com]

"Sit!" Jameson commanded, drawing on all his hard-won authority to turn what could only ever be a request into the semblance of a command. When his visitor in fact took the seat with no further argument, his relief was immense. It also was hidden, well-enough, behind the smokescreen of his pipe's effect - after all he still lived. And he could continue with his audacious plan that might yet bend his visitors will without incurring a dreadful cost.

"You know well the three who lay claim to these other items", continued the Occultist "And yet I have provided but the one chair that you have taken. They are not here. They will not come. I did not in fact invite them. We both know, friend, that the value of these things is not their material worth, nor their innate power, but in what their possessor may command of their owners."

Jameson lent forward, drawing his visitor further into the funnel of his trap. "The question is therefore which of these trinkets should I pass to you first, and what might you offer in return?"

[smokingboot.livejournal.com]

The visitor paused as though ruminating. It did not even look across at the table or floor, but sat very still. At length it spoke.

‘Of the three, two are irrelevant…almossst…and only one is interessssting.’

It sighed and sat back.

‘Trinkets you called them, and trinkets they are...ssssome might be persuaded...but you cannot expect a great price...’

And it looked across at him questioningly, as though it was trying to gauge whether or not he had anything else, anything better, anything more. The same old routine, Jameson told himself, pattered out with the same old lack of conviction. Still, the visitor was more confident now. He would have to be careful.

‘If you cannot use them, I am sure there are others who can.’

‘But how will you find them Jamesssson? Be assssurred that if you ssseeek, you will be found…’

It waited again, and when its host said nothing, continued.

‘For the book, another book. With original annotations.’

‘Which book?’

‘For the cards, an introduction to...ssss...a certain game you seek...’ It hesitated. ‘For the case, nothing. She exists no more.’

The case then. Jameson filled his glass again.

‘I shall keep the case.’
‘It is your choice. A mediocre thing.’ It shrugged, ‘Though as a trophy of the Circle of Bone it has curiosity value, as do all three. More together, of course, than as separate pieces.’

‘A job lot, perhaps?’ Jameson smiled and his guest gave a little chuckle, imagining they understood each other beautifully.

‘Well, then, make me an offer for all three, as trophies of the late, unlamented Circle of Bone. What say you?’