14854/A Contest of Tragic Consequence

A Contest of Tragic Consequence
Date of Scene:	05 May 2023
Location:	Fourth Floor: Lounge and Sitting Room
Synopsis:	So a Crow, a Raven and a Romance Author walk into a lounge...
Cast of Characters:	Nettie Crowe, Lydia Dietrich, Rachel Roth

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Nettie Crowe has posed:
    This was to take place in the Lounge, with its dark wood and old-world style, leather seats and the old-fashioned Edison-bulbs hanging bare from the ceiling like some kind of particularly trendy gastropub with a $15 burger, sans fries.

    There is an ancient game of Monopoly in play on one of the tables, though the classic figurines have been replaced with a ceramic salt shaker in the shape of Elvira, and what appears to be a glass perfume bottle in the shape of a bird.

    Nettie had sent an invite for drinks and a couple rounds of card games, but doesn't seem to be found here, where she'd said she would meet Rachel and Lydia.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia's never really been one for Goth fashion, but after she was vamped she sort of just leaned into it. It's hard to wear a bright and vibrant sundress when you're pale as death. She still tries on occasion, but the look is so off that she never ends up outdoors with her old fashion. So tonight she's wearing a black lacy camisole and a flowy black skirt that shows off her calves.

    She arrives at the indicated location and looks around for the old crone. "Um, Nettie?" she calls out. "You here? I hope you weren't planning on us to play Monopoly. It's kind of a terrible game."

Rachel Roth has posed:
Getting out. Meeting people. It's hard for Raven. She's never been a people person, but to learn and grow is sometimes uncomfortable. Everyone knows if you -don't- learn and grow, you stagnate. You die on the inside. (Just ignore her jokes about being dead on the inside already.)

Rachel arrives promptly at the time agreed upon, no earlier, no later. Laconic she might be, but she's always, always punctual. She arrives in the lounge in what can best be called 'grungy chic'. Black skinny jeans with slashed knees, an artfully slashed up black t-shirt with an oversized neck that shows off her midriff over a long sleeved fishnet shirt, stomy boots and, of course, sunglasses.

She tilts the glasses down her nose, peering about the room. "She's not here? Feels weird. ...Or she's playing a game."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Could be worse. Nettie knows people who are dead on the inside and outside. Necromancy was messy business.

    The old witch however, doesn't appear to be in the room. Not even her corvid accompaniment seems to be in-house, just the on-pause boardgame and a single chair askew from its seat, as if someone had gotten up to grab something from another room.

    Could be she's playing at something. Or she had to step out for a moment. So mysterious.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia puts her hands on her hips when nobody responds to her call. "Hunh. Well. Maybe she got up to go to the bathroom or something."

    When Rachel comes in, Lydia almost doesn't recognize her. When she met her last year she was in full Raven garb. "Oh! Hello, Raven." Lydia knows she has an actual name, but she can't remember what it is. "Did Nettie invite you, too?" She chuckles and gestures at the Monopoly board. "Well, she //was// playing a game, at least."

Rachel Roth has posed:
"She did invite me," Raven says with a nod, pushing her glasses back up. "Though it seems like she forgot to invite herself."

Boots thud on the floor as she takes a gander at the Monopoly game. "You know, I don't think I've ever played this, but I've heard the stories about it." Dark eyes squint behind her sunglasses as she takes a sweep around the room. "Hopefully nothing crazy called her away. Though I think if it was really crazy, she would have asked for help, right?"

She straightens, turning to look at Lydia. Her expression is deadpan, but her words are, at least, kind. "You look well. Though, I suppose I barely know you, but you do."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    How rude to not be here when everyone arrives.

    There's the flutter of feathered wings, and the black form of a British carrion crow comes to land on a chair still pushed in, and glancing around as Lydia and Rachel speak, he moves the Elvira shaker one space forward.

    "Evening, ladies." the crow croaks, hopping onto the table proper and tilting his head as he looks to Lydia and Rachel.

    "Nettie's handlin' a bit of tricky business below, she should be up in a short while." he hops again, a little closer to Lydia than to Rachel as he looks between them.

    "... she looks like a dubiously natured fae, she does."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "Dubiously natured //vampire,//" Lydia corrects with a little huff. "Hello, Corvus. I take it she has it well in hand, then? I could help if she needs it."

    She turns to Rachel and gives her a soft and pleasant grin. "I'm Lydia, mutant vampire witch at your service. I hope that you've stayed out of unwelcome trouble."

Rachel Roth has posed:
"Trouble always finds me, Lydia. It's just how my life is," Rachel says with a shrug. When Corvax arrives, she can't help but smile a tiny little bit. She obviously has a soft spot for corvids. It's all in the name, of course.

She fishes around in her satchel (which she has totally had the whole time), and produces ... a jerky-style dog treat? Which she offers to Corvax.

"Besides, I think everyone involved around here is dubiously natured. I know I am."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Oh, so Vampires *DO* sparkle now do they?" Corvax questions, sounding amused. If crows could smile, he might be. "Settlin' in to the Justice League a'right, Miss Roth?" he asks, and then cackles, accepting the treat (he's eaten far worse when he was human) and flies over to the bar, with a wingflap.

    "Eh. She's Nettie. It will either sort out or she'll flyinto a rage and add additional items to her collection of things that I shouldn't mention she has." the crow states, and he makes an attempt to pick up a bottle that's mostly empty. It doesn't work. Too heavy for him.

    "An' all Fae are dubiously natured. Not even Nettie has trust for most of 'em."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia's hands go back on her hips and scowls at Corvus. "I //twinkle//, thank you very much. There's a difference." She sighs and walks over to the bottle and finds a glass to pour its contents out for the bird. "Yes, yes. I know all about her collection. No self respecting witch //wouldn't// have a collection."

    "Mm. Just so," she tells Rachel. "It's been a while since trouble found me, thank God. Last time it did... well... let's just say it didn't go well for me."

Rachel Roth has posed:
Raven's lips twitch slightly upwards as Corvax takes the treat. She doesn't know his tale and, honestly, just assumes he's a talking bird. Straightening, she moves and sits in the pulled out chair. "My, my. You're a mouthy one, aren't you?"

She leans back, crossing her legs and bouncing her foot. "I wouldn't count myself a proper witch, and even -I- have a collection. Nowhere near as extensive, I'm sure, but I still have one." She actually does smile then, it does lovely things to her face. "Any trouble you survive is, honestly, not that bad."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Aye, it was the trouble I didn't survive that was troublesome." Corvax gives bright laugh, and flaps his wings to the glass that Lydia has poured for him. "Much obliged, Miss Dietritch." he states and douses his beak in alcohol.

    "There I was, enjoyin' a bit of shore leave from the good captain Bartholomew, in the company of some -- uh..." he pauses a moment, turning a crimson eye to Lydia and Rachel "... Ladies who were interesting in my dashing tales of adventure on the seas when suddenly King George's men came upon me! I took three down, aye, one with my pistol, one off the balcony, one with my blade --" he hops around a little animated with the story he's telling, "An' then they managed ta catch me. An' hang me until dead for the *Crimes* of *Piracy*. All because of ONE misunderstanding about not having a proper letter... an' taking an English ship... and murdering the crew but that was besides the point!" he states, hopping about.

    "And OH? Oh what do you two collect then, hm? Butterflies in little glass boxes? Taxidermied bats?"

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia narrows her eyes at Corvax and answers deadpan, "The skulls of mouthy crows." She gives him the wickedest most evil grin she can manage and her starfield coalesces into a large golden glowing carving knife into her hand. She makes jabbing motions at the crow (she's nowhere near him, so he's safe) before ruining the image by dissolving into a fit of giggles by whatever reaction he might have. "Really, though. I collect books. I have a rather extensive library."

    "So you were a pirate," she says, letting the knife dissipate back into a starfield. "How in hell did you manage to become a crow?"

Rachel Roth has posed:
"I collect, well, that's none of your business," Rachel replies with a sly grin to Corvax. She goes silent to watch Lydia's threat display, and even she has to stifle a giggle or two. She can't let the image slip -too- far, can she?

"Why is it always pirates? Or ninjas. ...Ninja-Pirates."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "AWRRK! CAW! OI! I'LL SPOIL YOUR GREEN SQUASH BREAD!" the crow caws out, and he hops up towards the rafters, and disappears into the shadows there for a moment.

    "Well, you'll havet o ask Nettie about the process of my becoming a familiar spirit. All I know one moment I'm about to be dipped in a river of pain and then the next I'm trying to refocus my **eyeballs** because some wee lass with too much brains hatched me outta an egg an' started feedin' me entrails!"

    The crow eyeballs Lydia a moment, then hops down to dip his beak again, though he is *eyeballing* Lydia. Such betrayal.