Sheriff's manor - Culture Tour After-Party

[Posh-Tim]

Keane turns to price;
"Ah, so all things mystical are simple sciences? To be quantified and sealed in their tomes and sorted away from prying eyes?"
He sways but seems to be keeping up reasonably well.
"I thought you would have considered them Arts as much as any other."
He also waggles his now depleted Cup at Jean-Jacques in a suggestive manner.

[Jean-Jacques]

Jean-Jacques aura flushes with a whole rainbow of emotions, fear, passion, beast rising, fear, trepidation, mortality, and fear.

He somehow manages to remain a hold on Elder Hermina and starts to walk purposefully away from the seating,

Then....

Elder price calls for a drink,

Elder Keane calls for a top up,

The second wave of the opium hits

Then to cap it all he spots the spirit of a small girl looking at him as he walks,

It’s all to much for him.

What follows seemingly passes in slow motion, his lower half seems to cease functioning whilst his upper body, clutching the elder ever so firmly continues apace.

The enduring fall from grace is both spectacular and witnessed by all present as the pair are launched into the air and begin a mutual somersault of which any gymnast would be proud, the landing, perhaps less so as the rotation continues sending arms and legs sprawling, yet the pair remain tightly bonded as they come to a rest....

The seven that greets the viewer is of the Elder Hermina face down in Jean-Jacques seated lap, her legs akimbo in the air and her dress covering the neonate entirely....

there is the briefest of pauses, followed by an impromptu triggering of the awe power by jean-jacques, as if somehow this was something not aleady the full focus of those in attendance...

A silence falls upon the room.

[Jerome Price]

Jerome takes the offering from Blint smiling at him and bowing ignoring the spectacles across the room for the present but enjoying the chaos of it and the brief moment of silence. Then, "Most gracious of you Ancilla Blint, indeed I would hate for dear Elder Hermina to be left ... empty longer than she can cope with."

Turning to Elder Keane he theatrically takes a deep breath of the tea's fumes and then a delicate sip, "In short Elder Keane, yes. I believe the word mystical comes from the Greek and meaning 'I conceal', but eventually all secrets are stripped of their mysticism and laid bare to those with enough time and patience. Such as the play we saw tonight, it has been analysed, criticised, lifted up and stripped down until it resembles a dedicated corpse lying on the coroner's slab. But art, that is the magic - the reanimation of the corpse, giving it life again and dressing it up in a whole other fashion if desired like some macabre puppeteer. As for prophecy, it is like gambling - leave enough wriggle room for interpretation and the multitude of possible combinations and permutations that the mass of humanity and kindred will eventually find a way to form themselves to the design. The art of prophecy though is it's romanticism, so like a cheap ladies romantic novella I shall unfortunately have to discard it to the shelves of fiction with that other drivel."

With this he moves to the door Dukes left by, peering through and seeing if he can see any sign of the ghost which had been there moments ago.

[Posh-Tim]

Keane is all riled up and ready to debate some really heavy philosophy on the nature of understanding and experience of all things amidst the flaw of human experience.
Then the second wave hits.
Exactly as Hermina and Jean-Jacques hit the floor.
And he loses his shit.

Flying into gales of laughter Keane rocks back and forth seemingly like of he were to stop he would promptly explode.

It does look like he's having fun though.

[Madam Zaragoza]

Hermina appears to stay in place for sometime, before starting to wriggle to gain some kind of semblance of being upright. She is shaking and the kindred nearby can hear her roaring with laughter.
“Ooo Jean-Jacques you only had to ask.. giggle... “

[Jerome Price]

At the erupting hysteria in the room Jerome's eyebrow hits the find mahogany ceiling, he sighs and turns to leaves to find Dukes and the spirit.

[Jean-Jacques]

There is the slightest of whelps from under the upturn Elder Hermina, a whelp with a distinctive french accent.

A slight rustling of undergarments but otherwise little movement ensues.

[L .]

Aurelia wonders if she’s hallucinating slightly; she’s not prone to doing so on her own brew.

[Jean-Jacques]

The inverted elder Hermina starts to slowly rise from the floor, and with more grace than the image presents or indeed warrants is gently paced on her feet by Jean Jacques.

“Elder Hermina, ze apologies for ze loose wheel ‘pon ze carriage.”

He bows, at the same time reviewing the slightly torn trews he now sports....

[Manacledairman]

Aldrich coughs loudly and leans toward aurelia

"Elder Aurelia, please take no offence but, have you slipped me something? Or is this a regular occurrence with those unaccustomed to your brew?"

He smiles.