fallen london shenanigans

Hello, old and new friends!!

My online handle is Quiz, and I use he/she/they pronouns. This is my main and Fallen London blog. Also- my ask box is open, as long as you're respectful 👍 feel free to stop in and ask questions, talk about ocs, or even talk about the weather! Please remember I am a human still job hunting, so I can't chat all the time (sad and unfortunate)

I’m updating my tagging system as I go, so bear with me, please!!

A pair of footsteps crunching into the snow is all the warning that you and Matchstick receive before the both of you are struck with a snowball each.

SPLAT! SPLAT!

You're struck with a snowball to the back of your head, while Matchstick is hit in the foot.

If you turn around, you may spot a woman trying to hide a smile behind her hand, before quickly tucking it back into the muff hanging around her neck.

"Penn, are you trying to be an easy target?" calls a brightly-dressed person, who appears to be the woman's partner in crime. Despite their words, they're grinning as they lean against their cane.

Matchstick, despite her best efforts to stay upright, manages to trip on some snow when hit. Brett blindly grabs out, managing to catch her as he whirls around to look for the snowball armed assailant! The detective finds himself wondering how he got into this situation, but is smiling all the same.

“Matchstick, my dear, you’ve been hit!” he finally says, past the point of dramatic. “Can you even stand?” She giggles, and falls down into the snow. Hands on his hips, he looks to the woman who threw the snow ball.

“Look what you’ve done!” He mock-admonishes, not entirely hiding his mirth. Matchstick (despite her grave, fake injuries) springs up behind him.

“Are we still going sledding?” She asks, and Brett nods. He waves at the brightly dressed one, and turns back to the one that was called ‘Penn’.

A flash of brown. A snowball that hits just below your neck. The stranger who'd just popped up from in front of your snowbank-- they must've snuck up by having crawled on their belly-- is cackling like a madman. In all their amusement, they nearly forget they're now sitting in point-blank range from an opponent who certainly plans on striking back, and they scramble to their feet to get some distance.

Brett realizes he’s been hit- again- by the sound of Matchstick’s laughter. He’s been hit so many times that he’s starting to become a little numb to the chill. His first goal is to keep the girl warm, his second is to teach her how to properly throw a snowball, and his last priority is to stay out of the line of fire- er, snow that is. He’s still shaking off the snow as his daughter throws one towards the once cackling attacker (a miss)!

“Tally ho,” he supposes, and quickly sets to making another snowball for Matchstick to throw. He takes a look at the stranger, and watches as this time…. Matchstick’s aim stays true, hitting them in the back. Brett proudly pats the top of her hat, and waves. Matchstick quickly pulls him down behind their snowbank.

SPLAT!

Once again, there is snow covering your face, while Matchstick remains perfectly warm, and dry, and laughing at your state. The only sign you have of the attacker as they duck away behind a snowbank is a flash of blonde hair and dark clothing. Unfortunately for the would-be assassin, however, you're far too familiar with one Emery Hyde to mistake the snow-muffled sounds of laughter that follows for belonging to anybody else.

Brett stands there in disbelief. He looks at the snowbank that is currently protecting Emery, and tugs his bright blue scarf even tighter around his neck, trying to regain a modicum of his dignity back.

"I know that was you, you bas- er, you bad fellow!" He quickly corrects, glancing at Matchstick. She wouldn't have heard him anyways, with the way she was still laughing, nearly doubled over. He hands Matchstick his top hat, and she makes a small 'oo' sound.

A small giggle comes from behind and above you. You barely have enough time to turn around- when a snowball smacks you square in the face!

You hear the delighted purr-laugh of the Self-Important Moggie. You wipe the snow from your face, and look up to see her perched on a stand.

"Now you've o-fish-ially joined! Get out there! Good hunting!"

She leaps away to another roof, hunting down other purr-ticipants.

It's against the rule to hit the Moggie, so you'll need to turn against your fellow players!

~The Neathy Frost Fair!

Brett snaps out of his surprise to look down at Matchstick, who (in her defense) looks grateful that he took a snowball to the face instead of her. He instinctively smiles at her, until she covers her mouth with her mittens. Is she cold? Do her hands hurt? Did she get hit and he hasn't even noticed yet? Oh, he's doing terribly with this whole father thing already... the poor child!

"Is everything alright?" The detective asks, and she finally drops her mittens to clutch at her sides. He sighs the moment he realizes that she was simply trying to hide her laughter. His smile immediately returns.

"Well I never!" He says, in mock offense. "My dear, this was a brazen attack upon a bastion of justice; we must now prepare..."

Descriptions under the read more!