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IC [Chuubo/Horizon] The Unbearable Legacies of Forsyth

Brontes

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Helena, Fingal, Samuel, Taldin

Here Roman's smile tightens and he gives kind of a noncommittal shrug. Though he still got to live in the manor and Dougal allowed him to take care of the dogs, their relationship had a contentiousness to it that never really recovered before his death.

This is a known thing to most of the conversational crowd for one reason or another just from living in the manor. Dougal had bred a series of monster dogs to watch his home and hunt his enemies, but almost no one had the capacity for training them as a result. The task had fallen on Roman, who possessed both resilience and a deep love of the strange and monstrous. He had proven too good at the job, and Dougal never really forgave him for pacifying his dogs, but no one else could take care of them.

"I'll miss the beasts though, when they pass," he says after a moment, "Whatever else you can say, you'll never see the likes of Dougal's Dogs in any lifetime."

He turns to Taldin, "And what of you, Taldin, you've worked pretty closely with the man. Is there anything you will miss?"

Spoiler: Show
So two things.
1: I'm throwing in a Shared Reaction, apparently HGs can do that.
2: I'm prompting Taldin for a personal story so that he can contribute a Shared Reaction.
3: I put up Changes on the wiki so I can track what I need to do and vice-versa, but I suggest that we change out Jade Irinka to Dougal Forsyth (and I already threw in a quest flavor for that one) as Jade is not campaign relevant if she ever will be.
 

Roger

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Letter from Jordan Kanda, continued

In any case, she related that her name was Benita Stain -- both wonderfully-implausible and implausibly-wonderful -- and that she had been a childhood friend to the late Dougal Forsyth.

It was hard enough for me to imagine that Dougal had even had a childhood, or that he once had any friends; to be confronted by proof of both left me, I am sure, gasping like a fish.

"A childhood friend! How remarkable," I, at last, managed to express. "He must have been quite the voracious reader as a child, I would assume, based on his adult proclivities; it has been my experience that a young avid reader might eventually grow out of it, but it is vanishingly-rare for anyone to start from literary apathy and mature into an appreciation of books."

"Such was my main connection to the man, you see -- I brought him, on occasion, books -- well, and coffee also, but I can scarcely imagine I'm here on that account -- and the more I think of those books, the more confident I feel that they are the key. If I may, in short, propose a theory about the underlying situation I'm in, I suspect he had need of someone familiar with such works, while entirely-unfamiliar with any other thing about this manor which might tend to cloud one's judgment, and landed on my name as a candidate. Perhaps I am to sell off the lot of them, piecemeal or by the barrow-full. Or before that -- perhaps they must be catalogued, enumerated, herded into order."

"One always thinks one has enough time for such things, to put one's affairs aright before the story ends... and perhaps some do. But more often it seems there's left a stack to be reshelved, a paragraph unfinished..."

"But there's no real need for speculation, is there, Ms. Stain? Surely the mystery will fully-reveal itself momentarily."
 

Jive Professor

Trying to fly
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Taldin's right toe tak-taked on the cold floor. "I'll miss the echoes," he said flatly. The empty response and measured blinks he received told him this explanation was insufficient. He looked down at the floor before speaking again saying, "The manor is large. Cavernous. Nothing is near, it is always a stretch to reach or find or be. You could spend hours without being found even if sought, and days being missing if you hid away. When we were working on a project it was different, but even when apart I always felt his resonance in this place. It was the echoes," he breathed. "Sounds that carried down hallways. Syllables cut off as they rounded corners. The timbre of doors closing and windows opening. We were not always together, but when I heard master's echoes I knew I was not alone in this place."

"I will miss that resonance."
 

FrivYeti

Yeti On The Lam!
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Samuel Titov, the Butler
Shiver of Terror XP | 8/8 Will, 5/5 MP, 3/3 Miraculous Will

Samuel just barely manages to keep a sour look off his face in response to Roman's statement. Unlike his master, he never begrudged Roman's training of the dogs, and indeed helped out in several subtle ways, but the dogs themselves were another story. "No," he says, "I expect we will never see dogs quite like those again. Perhaps Master Dougal left them to you in his will. It would seem appropriate. They are already more yours than his."

He considers Taldin's statement. "You assume the master's heir won't keep things as they are, then." He looks around. "This old manor may be more resistant to change than that."
 

Fluorite

Sparkly and salty
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Fingal Forsyth, the Admiral
Speechlessness XP
8/8 Will, 3/3 Miraculous Will, 5/5 MP


Fingal nods grimly. “This old house wouldn’t change if the sun crashed right into it. But that‘s not what he meant, Samuel! The boy, or bat, or whatever he counts as now,“ He gestures vaguely at Taldin, ”misses knowing Dougal’s around! That’s a downright ordinary way to feel after a funeral and no mistake.”

Fingal pats Taldin on the head. “Well, for what it’s worth, you’re not alone now, either. We’re here, my boy. The lot of us might make different echoes, but there’s always someone in this manor.”
 

Jive Professor

Trying to fly
Validated User
He did not know what to say to Samuel. Things always changed, didn't they? Did they ever change for the better?

His ears instinctively tweep-tweeped at Fingal's touch. "I..." he looked up at the Admiral. "...I am glad for that." His voice was reverent as followed the Butler's gaze and said, "This place meant a lot to the master. If a pall were to fall across it..." he left the thought unfinished.
 

JohnStargazer

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Grendel Forsyth, the Creature
Awww! XP
WP 8/8 MP 7/7


Grendel

"I disappoint myself, I must admit, that I am not more sentimental than I am. I grew up with Dougal and Benita my only friends, lived here since Dougal became family head, and handled a number of important business matters," he seems to emphasize the important business matters, "But in the past few years I fear our relationship has grown quite distant. We just aren't the people we were, I'm afraid."

"Ah, to have those days back: young, energetic, daring. The two of us would sneak out of St. Orlock's, shop at all of the apothecaries and groceries, and then we would brew and drink all the strange concoctions Dougal could think of, while I sold the best of them off, and Dougal, well, Dougal..."

Whatever thought he was having here is briefly interrupted as he breaks out into the deepest chuckle, "During the resulting crackdown, he had slipped one of our experiments in the headmaster's coffee, nothing serious mind you, but the aftertaste had been so persistent and unpleasant that for weeks one could hear the headmaster smack his lips from a corridor away. He had proverbially put a bell on the cat."

His chuckle breaks out into full blown laughter, deep and hearty.

"Ah, but nowadays all that's left is the businesses, I'm afraid, and right now that's all in the air. But you'll find that out for yourself soon enough."
Grendel looks at the portly man uncertainly, having dealt with such laughter and reminiscence rarely in his existence, and considers the man's words before he speaks.

"Close once, in your youth, and swiftly faded to a general sense of distance, a sort of awareness of each other's continued existence but not necessarily a fondness for it? Aye, I can imagine a relationship with Dougal being most similar to that, if nothing else." The creature pauses, drinking anew from his too swiftly cooling beverage, "Though I must admit a difficulty envisioning the three of you at school, not merely due to having little experience with such a thing myself outside my readings, but also being unable to imagine Dougal as anything other than the cold, distant man I spied on so many evenings."

"And as far as the business holdings are concerned, I'm afraid I'm entirely uninterested. I had no relation to his business concerns when he was alive, I expect to have even less in his passing. If anything, my concern is for whomever inherited the manor itself, as that question and that question alone may decide if I remain haunting these foul walls."
 

Brontes

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Grendel

"The manor itself?" Walsh's smile begins to change in character growing slightly mischievious, "Like I said, we shall see how that shakes out."

He turns to a lectern that has been placed in the foyer. A tall, doughy man in a suit is making his way there. The blackness of his suit is unusually so, black enough to draw the eye to his figure but barely his face.

"Pretty soon, I imagine."

Jordan

Benita nods along a bit, though there is something to her smile that seems almost...predatory.

"There will come answers," she says, "But with all things Forsyth, the mystery remains."

Everyone
From the Desk of John Simony
~I cannot delay things, but the moment I take the lectern I know it cannot end well. I will spare for my employers the full recitation of Forsyth's deathbed letter and will at least in regards to legal jargon and distribution of assets as those are well documented, though I feel it is important that I list the distribution of the special inheritors.

"It would be foolish of me to assume that I have died of natural circumstances. I have no illusions that I have lived anything other than a hectic, contentious life. Those who would call themselves my enemies and those my friends, lovers, and peers were often one and the same, and I was blessed or cursed with many. Be that as it may, I will be too dead to care one way or the other, and such things will be taken care of by the regional council, if at all. Killer or no, you will all be rewarded as generously as can be expected."

Suffice it to say that everyone received something, even Prom Forsyth, which came as a small surprise. By all accounts, Dougal was not obligated to give anything and never liked the boy. It should please the Council to know that Carmichael was returned his third arm. See the incident report regarding his duel with Dougal.

There were two things that were not listed among the regular inheritance.

1) The Manor itself and all of the little things assoicated with it.
2) Dougal had given almost none of his business ventures away. Only his piece of the Forsyth-Hamasaki fishing company, and a Walking Fields dairy farm were handed off to his sister Blair Forsyth-Hamasaki and Walsh Porter. This did not seem to phase Mr. Porter in the slightest, which concerns me.

I recall murmurs among many as not even a fraction of Dougal's assets had been given up and the letter had begun to wind down. I gulped neverously, for what I would recite next could not end well.

"Before I begin the final dispensation, I must break a precedent to establish an understanding. For all of my crimes, for all the rumor, incidients, scandals, for all of the abominations and curiosities, understand that they are but a fraction of all that surrounds the family and the estate; Crimes and enigmas that are from even before my great-grandfather built this house.

Crimes and enigmas that did in our dear sister, her name stricken from my memory, who we were never allowed to acknowledge again. Up until my death, I had not yet found someone I deemed suitable to inherit the responsibility of being the head Forsyth and the manor and history with it, but I have many candidates, and for them I leave the following:

My ward, Helena Williams, who rejected my stewardship, a special key to a special place in the manor. May it be a refuge to you as it was mine.
My brother, Fingal, who ran away from the family, a weapon of our mother's. May we alone remember all that she did.
My familiar, Taldin, who has seen much, a single puzzle box containing one of my best-kept treasures.
My creation, Grendel, who left like Helena before him, a single mask. What value you find in it is up to you.
My butler, Samuel Titov, with whom the staff was bound to me, the contract to your employment. You alone might get to leave.
Jordan Kanda, who provided me a small comfort in the twilight of my life, a collection of my most secretive books.

But should you delve further into the mysteries of this inheritance, you may find the manor, my assets, and all that they entail to be yours. Until then, they are to be safeguarded by the Offices of Simony, and otherwise beyond anyone's reach.

You alone are otherwise deemed worthy of what remains of my estate, and all contained within."

I ended things there, and waited for the oncoming storm.~
 

Jive Professor

Trying to fly
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Taldin's ears perked up and his eyes widened. "A... a puzzle box?" he said, perplexed. What could that mean? His mind raced as he wondered if he had ever seen such an object before, or had seen it and overlooked it completely. "When can we- that is, when can I see this box?"
 

MrPrim

Bleak Academic
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Helena Williams, the Lost Ward
Impressed Whistle XP; wp 8/8; mp 5/5; basic 1+1=2/9xp; otherworldly 1 1/21; side 0/15xp;

Helena's brow furrows as she sits forward and she chuckles a little under her breath, "Prom is going to be so mad."

Edony, sitting beside her raises an eyebrow. "A special place?" she whispers, "Wow. You're an heiress. Maybe he actually did miss you...."

"Hrmmm," Helena mutters, glancing around and looking for the other special heirs, "Something smells wrong about this. He's playing some kind of a game... even in death. Maybe we should sneak out early and head back home, before things get complicated...."

"Wait, we can't leave! We haven't even seen what this secret place is."

Helena scowls and says nothing but worry turns in her gut.

OOC: Calling this another Totally Under Control followed by whhhyyyyyyyy? Basic Quest XP!
 
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