h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

/Lady Constance Umbra re-read the invitation carefully just to make sure that she really had been invited to the Masque. It seemed true after all and here she was. She shivered slightly as she stood outside, despite wearing a heavy scarlet cloak over her flowing dark blue gown with golden trim./

/A feeling of trepidation almost made her turn away, but she decided to take a deep breath and go in. She placed the invitation back in her evening bag, next to the empty dance card. Hoping that there would be no shortage of gentlemen ready to fill their name in on the card, she entered through the terrace doors and walked into the hallway./

/A butler bot appeared as if from nowhere. Lady Constance handed over her scarlet cloak and was just about to show her invitation when, as if in recognition, the bot moved aside to allow her to enter the large room. The carpet absorbed the sound of her footsteps and her entry was unnoticed by the other guests, who were familiar to her, even if she wasn't to them./

/Avoiding the cloud of smoke coming from a distinguished looking gentleman in an earflapped hat and a woman with a cane, she sat alone in a quiet corner of the room, almost hidden by a large fern. As she looked around the room she tried not to be spotted watching the people and pretended to be intent on the marvellous works of art./

/Although hidden from the others as she watched them, a champagne serving bot glided over with a tray. Lady Constance lifted a glass from it and, just before she sipped, she silently made a toast to the other guests in the room/


"To an uneventful evening."

*Enters wearing a trench coat and hat that says "chief inspector" if it says anything at all, spies Madame Zora and rushes over pulling out his lighter*

Allow me tou light your pip, madame.

*Turns and sees Holmes, placing the still-lit lighter in his pocket.*

Monsieur, are you not the great English detective?

/Vash notices the lady enter. He rushes to her side to offer his arm in escorting her into the main part of the gallery./

Good day my lady! How may I, your humble servant, be of assistance to you?
/This is said in a deep affectation, not the normally high boyish voice that Vash has spoke with thus far./

/Mistaking affectation for affection, Lady Constance is embarrased by the attention shown to her. She had hoped to remain hidden and simply observe. However, she is both scared and excited by the stranger at her side and does not draw back her arm from his./

Thank you so much, kind Sir for your attentions. I am quite happy for the moment to sit here and look at the beautiful art. I would like time to appreciate the holograms which particularly fascinate me. Have you seen them?

As of yet, I have not. I had an unfortunate experiance with teh wooden contraption over there. Shall we enjoy these pieces then?
/Drawing his self up into a demeanor that hardly matches what the casual observer would have seen so far./

I have to say that I make it a rule to keep away from all kinds of wooden contraptions. I'd advise you to do the same.

Kind Sir, I would love to share these artistic delights, but first I must leave you to powder my nose. I shall return and perhaps we will converse some more.

/Trying to appear as if discourse with the handsome stranger has not left her flustered, Lady Constance leaves the room./

By all means. If you have any wants please let me know! /bows/

*his peregrinations of the gallery lead him to the immediate vicinity of Colonel Plum, to whom he bows, then inclines his head toward the trebuchet*

It is my experience, sir, that a large object out of its usual place is inevitably redeemed by becoming sculpture. Whether it ought to or not. May I introduce myself? I am Oscar Wilde. I have been in Paris for the last several years, so hairstyles such as that on the gentleman so lately fallen from the rafters do still astound me.

Are you in active service, sir, or have you retired?

*looks speculatively over the Colonel's shoulder at the dress worn by Fraulein von Schtrümpfhosen*

*Scampers over to the Trebuchet and examines the front left corner in a professional, dray building, manner. Places a few nuts into the corner as a test. Looks back around the room and wonders exactly how to start a conversation with such witty and erudite people which isn't about nuts.*

/An demure debutante straight out a dodgy TV adaption of a Jane Austen novel enters the room. A vision in pastal shades, on the whole I think we can describe her outfit as agressively not black.

Handing over her invitation and her voluminous lavander cloak to a passing bot, she shakes her golden curls into an even more riotous profusion, opens her big blue eys wide and peers into the room/

Gosh, a bit dark in here, isn't it?

/Imediately, the light around Kitty brightens a touch and she smiles, brightly/

What a fascinating... ummm...

/She gaily trips accross the floor towards the Trebuchet, swinging her reticule lightly/

I am a *consulting* detective, inspector Clouseau, if you understand what that is. In London we have lots of Government detectives and lots of private ones. When these fellows are at fault, they come to me, and I manage to put them on the right scent. They lay all the evidence before me, and I am generally able, by the help of my knowledge of the history of crime, to set them straight. There is a strong family resemblance about misdeeds, and if you have all the details of a thousand at your finger ends, it is odd if you can't unravel the thousand and first.

*modesty never was one of his main traits*

*points with the stem of his pipe at waft of smoke rising from the inspector's pocket*

Right now my experience tells me you ought to look for something to put out that fire with - I'm afraid I can't help *indicates glass of Cognac*

*leans back in armchair, calmly resumes puffing on his pipe*

*sees the squirrel inspecting the trebuchet and Kitty approaching*

I see the price of brazil nuts are rising with the run up to Christmas, Squirrel.

*lifts a glass of from a passing bot and holds it out to Kitty*

*he continues to survey the room, discreetly, always on his guard against threats to his friends and fellow Salonistas in spite of their cunning disguises*

*coughs ready to try out Irish accent*

Top of the morning to you all.

*dodges a few early fireworks*

May I ask is there a wee measure of Whiskey abouts to parch my thirst.

Why, Monsieur Holmes, should I put out your pip?

Fire! fire!

*Flails wildly at his coat pocket, simultaneously spinning around trying to take his coat off, and heading directly toward the "slightly" sunken gallery.*

/Takes the and takes a sip/

Why, thank you indeed, kind sir.

/giggles/ Don't you just love the way the bubbles go up your nose?

Brazil Nuts are up? Oh my, that is bad news. I have just sold all mine off for a small investment in Covent Garden.
? I think I will stick to my chestnut brew. The bubbles in that stuff does terrible things to my tail. Last time I spent a week trying to untangle it from my cloak.

/Cocks her head prettily to one side/

Mr Squirrel? I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Kitty. /Curtsies/

*returns with a |_|*

Ah great to see such a grand turn out. Where's the fiddle band? Somebody did book a good fiddle band didn't they?

*Steps quickly out of the way as the funny looking man with fire in his pocket flails by..*
Oh dear!
*picks up another *

*raises eyebrow at non-descriptive Irish fellow*

*indicates string quartet next to trebuchet with a nod*