The Thorn of the Rose

[TheExecuter]

The boy nodded, then blurted out, “They like that when I came home from school. What happened to them?” The last was more a challenge than a question.

Sloppy, leaving the boy...

...unless...

...the boy is the one who did it...

I consider not bothering further, but I continue. “Henri, can you recall the last time you heard an American be downcast about their country? Like Mr Warrenson was just now?” I see him ponder the question. I wait a few minutes. “This crisis is doing something to America - something deep. It has happened before, if you recall, in other places at other times.” I emphasise the accent I am speaking, exaggerating its anachronistic sound.

Chillingly accurate for the future...

 

[TheExecuter]

“Martin,” Lady Parr said to him in her innocent soprano, “your surmise was correct.”

Strange place to break, it seems to me...not really a cliff hanger, and not a natural break...

“Aye,” said Angus. As they ready themselves Martin thinks - how minutes to get to the tunnel at Greenwich, to walk under the river, and to get here. Surely Bartholomew would have a car or something at the gardens waiting for when his Master arrived. Of course, the cellar might be empty.

Typo? How 'many' minutes?

 

[stnylan]

What is Martin, really? I thought he was a human serving, but now he has supernatural strength?

So Martin is a thrall, like Robert, and imbibes the blood of his Master. This gives him certain benefits. The original game as of the late 90s/early 00s uses the term "ghoul" but "thrall" is often used in the more mediaeval settings, and I felt more appropriate to a somewhat ossified Old World view.

Mildly surprised that worked out for Martin, it had the feel of an overly complicated plan where too much effort had been put into bluff and counter-bluff. I suppose it could well be it hasn't worked out, that the other side only made this attack to make it seem like they had fallen for the distraction. Thinking about it too hard probably leads to madness, but if you're a centuries old immortal you probably have to take your fun where you can after having exhausted every other pleasure.

On the wider view, German troops mutinying in March 1935 is a change, one we might hear more about later?

So I am hoping to drop some evidence of where things will be going with the various alternate settings. I suppose the other major change mentioned, ages back is the American banking crisis of the early 30s was worse and Prohibition ended some months later than historical.

If you remember the film War Games there is that line: The only way to win is not to play. Whilst a rather different context, there is truth to it in all the plotting. But then Martin is just a piece on the board, a self-aware piece, but a piece none the less. And yes, I think in this setting complex arrangements of anticipated (real or imagined) counter-arrangements probably is a form of entertainment, and probably about as fulfilling and watching nothing but algorithmically served up YouTube shorts for 72 hours straight.

An intricate gambit which may produce some more information - but my guess is it may not be a decisive smoking gun. Or dripping knife. Anyone engineering such an attack should also have taken precautions to hide themselves. Presumably, deniable underlings and cut outs should have been used.

The operative word here is "should", as you highlight Not everyone is always competent.

 

[stnylan]

I am reminded of the Hudsucker Prodigy, which uses this technique to memorable effect...

I must confess I know that not.

Actually, my dear narrator, I'm bored with this endless tease...

If I am not the one to determine what 'good time' means, then I can hardly be mollified by the mindless and meaningless phrase.

The whole thing is irritatingly grating as a constant reminder that freedom is already lost.

Very much lost

Interesting...what use is being taught if choice will be denied?

What use has a slave of possessions that might have been left behind?

The alienness of the concept here I think is difficult to fully explore without plunging the reader into mindless incomprehension.

Also, do you trust a word out of Six's mouth?

Sloppy, leaving the boy...

...unless...

...the boy is the one who did it...

Competency is not a guaranteed part of a lackey's skillset (or even their boss' skillset, for that matter).

Chillingly accurate for the future...

It can happen to all nations, to all peoples. If you dig back in the past of almost any nation/people/culture for whom we have good enough records, there will be one or more moments such. Specifics differ of course, because of differences of culture and belief and whatnot. But the theme, the theme seems to be one of those eternal human things - like an echo of the discord of Melkor from the Music of the Ainur (if you forgive the Tolkienism).

Strange place to break, it seems to me...not really a cliff hanger, and not a natural break...

Difference of opinion here I think - for Martin his part is currently done, apart from some not very interesting busywork.

Typo? How 'many' minutes?

Yes a typo. Thank you for the catch.

 

[stnylan]

All

Still no post I am afraid, but something exists. I will say this heat hasn't bee helping. I posted on our family WhatsApp group a few days ago I think, as a family, we should migrate en masse to Thurso (where I was born) each summer. I am sure with WFH, and perhaps enrolling the kids in some distance learning, we can as a family make that work.

 

[El Pip]

I posted on our family WhatsApp group a few days ago I think, as a family, we should migrate en masse to Thurso (where I was born) each summer.

A fine part of the world with beautiful views of majestic Dounreay. And some coastline and so on if you like that sort of thing rather than nuclear domes, though why you would is beyond me.

 

[stnylan]

A fine part of the world with beautiful views of majestic Dounreay. And some coastline and so on if you like that sort of thing rather than nuclear domes, though why you would is beyond me.

The reason I was born up there was my father, whose one and only job was a member of the RN from when he was 16½ to his eventual retirement in his late 50s, was training on the Dounreay reactor at the time

I will say I think Dunnet Bay is one of the most beautiful beaches on This Sceptred Isle, made more beautiful by the general lack of people

 

[TheExecuter]

If even someone like Fagin with a large brood and a reputation for being useful still things a relatively minor faux pas requires grovelling in apology, it does appear it is misery all the way down. Which in fairness you expect from Vampires - they aren't nice beings so of course wouldn't have a nice society.

Not looking good for the chances of a happy ending is it?

It has the ring of Cthulhu stories to it...no spark of heroism anywhere.

This is why SS Necromancer Gunther Durn remains my favorite paradox forum story character of all time...

He was a mere human who had the arrogance and ego to go up against the gods of Cthulhu horror without fear of the consequences...behaving like a man made in the image of the God he hated and denied existing.

“Lady Parr,” the Master said, “you have my trust in this matter. Darius, Martin, time to see this through.”

But, why is the boy here? Why is he still alive?

 

[TheExecuter]

I think more accurately Mr Williams has had his life saved.

Not at all. Mr. Williams is dead. The vessel remains, which will be molded into something else.

Let's not get lost in the half-lies, lest we forget where we put the truth...

There was this great little reflection in Chernobyl "I've known braver people than you, people who had their chance and said nothing. Because when it is you, and everyone you love, your courage vanishes. It leaves you. And all you want is not to get shot."

Another half lie.

We meet people who chose living death rather than the truth every day.

We only really remember those who dared death to live the truth.

The outer walls are lined by silent figures - conditioned vessels who are our fare tonight. In most venues my Lord will permit the fiction of the goblet, the crimson wine - but not here. Here he offers hospitality according to elder lore. There is nothing coarse, nothing depraved. The vessels are modestly attired, in muted shades designed not to attract attention - but one always knows they are there. If one attends one is expected to appreciate my Lord’s offerings, and in the expanse of this hall there is nowhere to hide. Less notorious than the fevered whispers in foreign Courts, and yet altogether more terrifying. The customs of yesteryear brought into the modern night. It is the Blood Court of London, in its second hour, and I will see the whole night through.

Conditioned vessels...nothing depraved.

...less notorious...terrifying...

Amusing how Albert consistently lies to himself about what is going on...even when he doesn't need to.

“Now, onto practical matters, there is no need to make this dramatic. Annabelle, Jane, and the others here are willing vessels. New ones - like Jane I am sure - have their terror controlled and taken away from them. Older ones, like Annabelle, barely require any attention.” I notice Nathaniel has closed his eyes.

If Jane is having her terror controlled, she is not a willing vessel.

Note how easily and pervasively the lies spill...yet if you pay attention...

“I don’t want to always be afraid. But I don’t want to turn into a monster. I want to be my own person. “

He can be...IF he is willing to dare death to do so...

“And are you, a devil?” he asked, the thrill of feeding still lending him a confidence that is not yet truly his.

All men are devils. To pretend otherwise is to desire the lies and the slavery of evil.

 

[TheExecuter]

Robert grabbed the proffered arm. “The devil shall be my sergeant,” he whispered, and partook of the bloody benediction.

A man who already understands every man is a slave...to something or someone.

Very good touch.

Destiny is cruel.

A half lie to distract us from the consequences of our choices...

Anywhere but here it would be out of place. “It is deserved,” He states, looking around the nearly empty hall. “You made a memorable show tonight.”

“I suppose that depends on one’s tastes,” I say.

“I told my seneschal I would talk to you about it, and so I am,” He says. He does not sound angry.

“Your seneschal does not entirely approve of my methods,” I reply.

“And you do not entirely approve of her,” My Lord says, still unremarkable in tone.

“I respect her abilities. She is a most able member of your Household, and an excellent Seneschal. It is your approval that matters, not mine.”

“And yet you never seek to sway it.”

“My Lord…”

Ah hahaha...

The fun of 'small talk' in such an organization. Albert taking it seriously while his Lord is just trying to start a conversation.

Love it.

“I must be going,” he says, and stands, then turns. “Albert, I mean it - return. Sending you on this errand - trying to find a member of this new line - these are whims. I would be grateful for any success, but not so grateful as to lose you.” He pauses, and then fixes me with his stare, switching to a far older tongue. “Your first aim is to return.”

“Lugal,” I say, in the same language.

“Good. Ahura Mazda light your way.” With that He leaves me. He strides back towards the dais, says something more to Lady Anne, and departs through the same door He had entered.

It is the Blood Court of London, in its eleventh hour, and for the first time tonight I feel unsettled.

Being valued and given some agency...and this unsettles you...

The truth is trying to glimmer through, Albert...for all your control and mastery of self...you have not apprehended the truth of your position quite yet.

 

[TheExecuter]

Not the only one. Does a zombie apocalypse approach? Not World War 2 but Z instead?

Ah...

I had not thought of that possibility, but it's a good thought...

Albert looks down at her broken form, and smiles a little. “Would you believe me if I said I told Lady Anne the truth?”

So, at some point, Albert actually cared about truth and about doing the right thing?

Something must have happened in the last hundred years.

Also, I'm intrigued to wonder what zealotry Nora was up to...

 

[TheExecuter]

I can speak my truths so quietly

At this point, I am going to celebrate when someone gives that jackass of a narrator a suitably messy death...

“We only know one other occasion when the Sun Throne was broken, and that happened in 1860.”

Interesting date...lots of possibilities with things already revealed in the story...

 

[TheExecuter]

It is Albert that will step down from the gangplank to ferret out the reasons for this reason - those admitted to and those not. It is Albert who will try to find a scion of a purged line who is happy to move to London. For now I can but wait.

So...there IS someone else there...interesting...

“I understand that,” Robert said, “but what do you think?”

Dangerous question that...

Robert took up the rolled tarp. “Not enough for me,” he spat at the crying creature. Angelo heard - for his cries renewed with a more terrible vigour - and the smell of burning flesh filled their nostrils as ash started to plume from his burning skin.

Ideas for my revenge on the narrator...