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Punch door, receive clues.
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Sep 24, 2017 12:53
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Bust that poo poo
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Sep 24, 2017 14:29
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 : B-Baron! It's not, um, time for your witness testimony yet! Baron Rorgueil : I-i-i-incompetence? : Indeed. Let us proceed with witness questioning. Is that fine with you, Judge? : Yes, I suppose that's fine. : Very good. And I trust that the defense has no objections. : No. No objections here.: Fantastic. Oh, but before I forget: I pledge to speak without fear and prejudice, et cetera, et cetera.  : The initial dinner went magnificently. When the photographer arrived, Monsieur Grenwee left to visit the garden. Dame Caterline followed behind him moments later. Seigneur Purrtoir, Monsieur Robinio, and myself were engaged in conversation, so we paid her no mind. After the photographer had left, my housemaid left to go find Monsieur Grenwee and Dame Caterline. That would be when I heard her cry for help.: Thank you, Baron. I think we all know the story from there.: I would like to cross-examine the witness.: Do you doubt my integrity, garçon?: I'm just here to uncover the truth, baron.: Very well then. Hit me with your best shot. Let us establish with absolute certainty that I, Baron Rorgueil, am an honest man!: The defense may proceed with the cross-examination. Trial Turn-About : Baron Rorgueil, I would like to ask about the dinner you served that evening.: Very well. Ask away. : Earlier today we established that silverware was stolen from your residence prior to the banquet.: Indeed. I am aware of whom the culprit is, but I have decided not to press charges.: It is curious, then, that you decided to serve steak. It isn't what one would describe as "finger food", after all. : I don't know about that, Falcon. With the right attitude, all food can be finger food.: There is nothing curious about it. Seigneur Purtoir and Dame Caterline are vocal lovers of rare steak. I was merely suiting their needs.: Besides, what, um, other choice did the baron have, Falcon? Serve vegetable broth like a, um, common peasant?: Do be quiet, prosecutor. You sound ridiculous.: S-sorry, baron. : Now. About this red herring...: Yes. What about it?: I'm not sure. But I feel it is of vital importance to the case.: Falcon, I just want to, um, clarify this. Are you saying that you wish to pursue the red herring? : Yes. I wish to closely examine and question the piece of evidence that is overtly labeled as a red herring. This is the type of bird that I am. I see a trail that clearly veers away from my goal, but I follow it anyway. Perhaps the path leads to better things. Perhaps it leads to failure. What matters is that my curiosity is satisfied.: You're a strange bird, Falcon. You don't gain or lose any favor with them. : Baron Rorgueil, I have some questions about Monsieur Grenwee.: God rest his soul... : What was your relation to Monsieur Grenwee, prior to his demise?: We were business partners. Monsieur Grenwee, Seigneur Purrtoir Demiaou, and myself all owned a third share in an up-and-coming railway company.: Excuse the crassness of this question, but that means that you and Seigneur Purrtoir would now own half of the company each, correct?: Correct. I suppose that's a slight glimmer of benefit that arose from this foul situation. But, Monsieur, you must understand that Monsieur Grenwee and I were friends as much as we were business associates. I mourn the man's passing.: Of course. : I believe he wanted some fresh air. The steak did not sit well with him, I fear.: Oh, I see. But that is quite coincidental timing, isn't it?: How so?: Well, Monsieur Grenwee felt sick and left the room just after the photographer arrived, and just before the murder occurred. One might draw a link between the food and the sickness.: Hold on, Falcon. Surely you aren't suggesting that, uh, Monsieur Grenwee's food was poisoned in some way? : Baron, we saw the murder scene, your garden, for ourselves. : If I may ask, what's with all the horses?: I beg your pardon?: There are all these horse and cherub statues in your garden. To be frank, we found the whole thing a little... weird.: Could the defense please stop horsing around? This can't possibly have any relevance to the case. : Baron Rorgueil, I have a couple questions about your housemaid, Couline Duhaut. : Does your housemaid smoke cigars?: Hm? Well that question came out of the, uh, left-field.: Definitely not. Mademoisselle Duhaut detests the smell of tobacco.: I see.: Putting together a bigger picture, are we?: I think so. The pieces are slowly falling into place.: Your housemaid is a thief. She has stolen numerous valuables from your household, including all of the silverware.: I object! That's not a question.: Oh, right. let me rephrase that.:Baron, why did you not immediately report to the police when you discovered that your housemaid was stealing from you?: Is a man is obligated to report every act of theft that they witness?: Well, not legally, I suppose.: I chose not to incriminate the poor girl because I felt it would be needlessly harsh. I know letting a criminal run loose is a foreign concept to many of you lawyer types, but I'm sure you understand the concept of “mercy”. : Baron Rorgueil, when was the last time you ventured into your own garden?: As it happens, I have quite serious allergies. I haven't been in my own garden for years.: Years, you say?: Indeed. : Baron, I do not wish to call you a liar, but that claim does not hold up to scrutiny.: Oh? And why's that?: Because we have hard evidence that you have visited the garden recently.: Balderdash! My word is gold. Show the court this so-called "hard evidence" that I've been in my garden! : This was found in your garden. To be specific, it was found inside the fountain basin... : A... a cigar butt?! That, uh, that, um, that could belong to, uh, anybody, and -: Prosecutor, please shut your mouth. I can speak for myself.: O-okay. Sorry, baron.: That is indeed the remnants of one of my cigars. But I must apologize, Monsieur Falcon, for I misunderstood your initial question. You see, prior to the banquet, I hadn't visited my own garden in years. But naturally, after hearing the housemaid's cry for help on the evening of the murder, I rushed outside. I was shocked and disgusted by what I saw. That must have been when I dropped my half-smoked cigar in the fountain basin.: You see, Falcon? There's a perfectly reasonable explanation!: I would find that believable if the cigar were casually discarded. But as it happened, the cigar butt was found in the fountain's upper basin. A location that could only be accessed with great inconvenience.: And a little paddling.: The cigar butt was not dropped. It was deliberately hidden.: There are any number of possible explanations.: Are there? Because I can only think of one. That is, that you, Baron Rorgueil, deliberately hid your cigar butt to disguise your own illicit activities.: Did I, now? And what illicit activities would those be? Trial Turnabout 2 (Saint-Saëns - Samson and Delilah - Bacchanale)  : Directly accusing me of murder? How shamelessly brazen!: That is a ludicrous accusation, Falcon! The Baron is an upstanding citizen of the highest order! Your allegation is baseless! You have no evidence! No uh, means, motive, or opportunity!: No evidence? Think harder, Monsieur Rabbington. Every piece of evidence points to Baron Rorgueil as the prime suspect. You want the means? The Baron certainly had means. His lion's claws are as sharp as a surgeon's blade. Gutting a frog belly would be trivial to him. Even Monsieur Robinio confessed, just moments ago, that he feared "his claws"!: Ridiculous! I would never threaten a man with violence.: You want a motive? The Baron had at least ten thousand francs' worth of motive! By removing a business partner, the Baron's share of his railway company increased from one third to one half!: This is preposterous!: And finally, the Baron had an opportunity. No. He CRAFTED the perfect opportunity. He arranged a small banquet with a very select number of guests. He was aware of the missing silverware, and yet he served steak, a food item that necessitates good cutlery. Why? To bloody the hands of his guests, of course.: Then, he hired an easily-influenced photographer and staged a very specific picture in order to build a perfect alibi for himself. Photographing the guests in front of a handless clock to make for easy editing is quite an ingenious plan, it must be said.: Prosecutor, are you going to let this slanderous yarn go uncontested? Say something! Object!: I, uh, um...: Oh, you're pitifully useless.: After executing the murder, the baron found himself still holding a single piece of incriminatory evidence: his finished cigar. He knew that leaving it at the crime scene would raise suspicion, but he didn't have time to properly dispose of it. So, out of desperation, he threw it into his fountain, out of the sight of his guests and any snooping police.: I imagine the baron was hoping to implicate Seigneur Purrtoir Demiaou, since that would ensure total control over his railway company. Alas, Dame Caterline was the first to happen upon the crime scene. So the baron improvised.: This is an outrage! Judge, I demand that you disbar this ranting lunatic!: No! There is only one outrage here! : You're a bourgeois of the worst kind!: How dare you, garçon! The utter nerve for a lying scumbag of a lawyer to accuse a philanthropist like myself for something so heinous! I'm nothing like the fat-cat bourgeois! I'm a respectable, hard-working capitalist!: No! You're a ruthless man who would slaughter a dear friend just to reap a few francs!: You incredulous whelp! I ought to gut you right here and now like... like... : ...: ... : ... : ... : ... : ... : Could... could someone please restrain the Baron? : I'm on it, ya' honor! Let's go, old man. To the Conciergerie with you. : This is quite a turn of events. Does the prosecution have anything to add?: I, uh, well, in a manner of, um, speaking, ah, uh, well, to be honest, um... No.: Then I shall now confer with the members of the jury to come to a decision. I ask that the animals of the court please be patient in this time. : Thank you. I just hope it was enough.: What do you mean? You just proved Caterline's innocence! We'll get a not guilty verdict for sure.: Hmm... Sparrowson, I think you've misunderstood something important about the justice system.: What's that?: I haven't "proved" anything. As lawyers, we cannot deal in proofs. It's just not possible. All we can do is organize the evidence, and convincingly explain what it suggests. I haven't proved Dame Caterline's innocence. All I have done is demonstrate that there is a significant possibility that she is not guilty.: I'm not sure that I understand the difference... : In light of the recent revelations, it is clear that an error of judgement was made with the initial arrest. On that note, we unanimously find the defendant, Dame Caterline Demiaou, to be...Victory Fanfare   : Yeah, I suppose we did, didn't we?: We should head back to the office so we can celebrate properly.  Aviary Office  : I can't take all the credit. This was a group achievement. : I'm so proud of you both. : I'll go get one bottle of wine and three of our least dirty glasses. : Aww, it was nothing.: I very much liked the way you pinned the murder on the baron. That was an act of sheer genius!: Well, I didn't "pin" anything. Sparrowson and I just worked at unveiling the truth, given the facts of the case.: Monsieur Falcon, there is no need to play coy. The case is over.: ...Play coy?: Don't tell me you're actually being sincere.: I'm completely lost.: Oh wow. I thought the goodie-goodie thing was an act, but you actually don't know. Alright, I'll spell it out for you. Caterline's Theme    : To increase my papa's share in the train company, of course. My papa always said that the drunk old frog was the weakest link.: Your confession doesn't make any sense at all. I found baron Rorgueil's cigar butt hidden in the garden.: Oh, I put that there. I expected the police to find it, but I suppose that was putting too much faith in the brains of Paris's finest.: But Falcon proved that Monsieur Robinio's photograph was edited!: It was edited. I wasn't in the picture because I was busy paying a visit to Monsieur Grenwee in the garden. My papa knew I needed an alibi, so he ordered Monsieur Robinio to paint me over Baron Rorgueil, and to add hands to the clock. But that lazy artist didn't manage to finish altering the photograph by trial day! It's a good thing that Monsieur Falcon was so imaginative, because that could have gone very badly.: ...: ...: What's with the silence? You should both be proud. There aren't many lawyers in the whole of France who could have won a case like this, even for a bourgeoisie kitty like me.: ...: I think you should leave now.: Hmph. Fine. So much for the celebrations. Here's the payment for your services, straight from my papa's pockets.  : Falcon, what do we do now?: ...: Falcon?
Xander77 fucked around with this message at 11:18 on Jun 23, 2018 |
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Sep 24, 2017 14:46
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It's cool, we're lawyers. We'll make some poo poo up.
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Sep 24, 2017 14:48
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Poor, impressionable Sparrowson.
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Sep 24, 2017 16:54
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A little illegal
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Sep 25, 2017 01:37
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Very illegal.
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Sep 25, 2017 03:30
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So very illegal
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Sep 25, 2017 03:55
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AmyL posted:So very illegal 
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Sep 25, 2017 04:30
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  Murder      : ...But now it's midday on Monday, and there's still no sign of him. This is becoming a little concerning.    : I should probably go find him. His home would be a good place to start... but the bird brain never gave me his address. I'll just have to find him the hard way.: Wait! Let's double back to the office, just in case we missed him.: Nope. Still no sign of him.: Ok, now for real.   : Do I look like a lost and found to ya? Buzz off, bird brain.: ...Alright then.  : Excuse me, Rupert.: Oh, it's you. The, uh, first year dropout.: Hey! I didn't drop out!: (I was forcibly ejected.): But that doesn't matter right now. I'm looking for Falcon. Have you seen him?: Falcon? The guy who, uh, somehow blundered his way through the Caterline trial with the help of some, um, very dubious evidence? No, I haven't seen him since the, um, trial.: Oh. Well, thanks anyway.   : ? : ??: Uh. Down here. : Oh, there you are. It's Sparrowson, right?: That's right.: I heard about the case you were involved in. I never would have thought that the Baron was a murderer. He always treated me with the utmost respect. But then, I suppose it makes sense that the most ruthless killers are the ones who can put up the best facade.: Yeah... I suppose so.: Say, how's your friend doing? He seemed a little down last night.: Oh, you've seen him?: Yes. He was brooding in the corner of Le Canard Joyeux. Mumbling and drinking... it was a little depressing, to be perfectly honest.: Le Canard Joyeux? That's the dingy student bar on Rue Jaune, right?: It's not dingy. Just a little rustic.: In any case, that's an enormous help. Thanks, mademoiselle.: Any time, Sparrowson.   His nostrils fill with the pungent aroma of sour wine and bitter tobacco. Quanelle's Tavern (Очи чёрные)  : Well ruffle my feathers if it isn't little Sparrowson. I haven't seen you in years! How are ya doing, hon?: I'm feeling pretty good, Madame Quanelle. Thanks for asking. I'm actually here to find a friend. He's a big guy named Jayjay Falcon.: Falcon? Yep, that sorry lump has been here all weekend. He's just been moaning and muttering to himself. Frankly, he's bringing the whole atmosphere down!: I'll take care of him. Thanks, Madame Quanelle.: It's no problem, hon. He's probably still in the corner of the drinking room upstairs.  : Not right now. I’m looking for my friend, Jayjay Falcon. : Ah. Thank you.: Hmm...No sign of him... : I almost stepped on the big fellow! Uh... Falcon? What are you doing on the floor? Hey, Falcon! Wake up!: ...: Wow, the bird's completely out cold. He must have drunk this place dry. Let's see, how do you wake a drunk person... : Nope. Nothing. : ...: Still nothing. : Welp, I guess it's time for a rude awakening. Wakey wakey~ : Ah, good, you're up. : ...: Are... are you with us, Falcon?: ...yeah.: Feeling sober? We should probably head back into the Aviary office so we can get some work done.: ...I don't understand it, Sparrowson.: Huh?: I thought I did everything right. I followed all the procedures. I found all the evidence. I presented the case beautifully. And yet, a guilty feline walks free while an innocent man sits in custody. What went wrong? Where's the justice? : ...: ...: Sorry, Falcon. I don't have the answers. But what I do have is freshly-baked croissants from Pierre's Boulangerie.: Croissants...: Yup. They're waiting for you back at the Aviary.: I'm sitting here, moping about justice, and you offer me croissants.: Well, it's not just croissants. I got some pains au chocolat too.: ...: I could go for pains au chocolat.: Fantastic! Then let's make a move! Aviary Office : I told you. Pierre's boulangerie on Rue Verdeis something else. Oh, that reminds me. The baker told me something interesting. Do you know what they call pains au chocolat in America?: They don't call them pains au chocolat?: Nope. Pronunciation difficulties. American is a whole 'nother language.: So what do they call them?: Chocolate croissants.  : Hello? : Heh. "Chocolate croissants". What do they call profiteroles?: Oh, I think those are still "profiteroles". But rather than custard, they fill them with ice cream and smother them in melted chocolate.: ...: Simply outstanding.: Is this the Aviary Attorney? : Can I speak to someone please?: Well, what do they call crêpes? : ..Did you just hear something, Sparrowson?: Down here!: Oh! Sorry, I didn't see you there. What can I do for you, little one?: Uh, oh gosh, where to start...: Your name, perhaps.: Mousey. My name is Mousey.: And what can we do for you, Monsieur Mousey?: I have this friend... and he has fallen under some legal turbulence.: Legal turbulence? You mean he's been arrested?: Uh, yes, I suppose so. They're saying he's a murderer, but he didn't do it! He didn't do it!: That's quite a problem. : The prince of Spain?! And you didn't think that was worth mentioning from the start?!: I forgot, I forgot!: I must ask, Mousey: Why did you come to us? I would have thought that the Spanish royal family would hire legal counsel with a little more...: ...not terribleness?: ...expertise.: Oh, uh, the prince has great faith in your lawyering skills, Monsieur Falcon. He said that your reputation as a lawyer was renowned.: Really? The prince said that?:This is a great opportunity, Falcon. Surely you wouldn't deny a request from the Prince of Spain? : Meh? : Look, Falcon. I know you're still upset about Dame Caterline's trial, but more moping isn't going to help. The best thing you could do right now would be to occupy yourself with some meaningful work. This case will scratch that itch perfectly.: MEH.  : Hmph. : Good luck to you, messieurs!: You aren't coming with us, Mousey?: I have, um, I have other matters to attend to. But prince Juan is being held in the Conciergerie. I'm sure he will fill in all the details!: Right. Let's make a move, then.: Of course, I go right back to the offic-: Stop messing around, Falcon. Let’s help out Prince Juan already.: Ok, ok.
Xander77 fucked around with this message at 11:28 on Jun 23, 2018 |
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Sep 25, 2017 08:12
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Leave it. As funny as it would be to take it, I can't help but imagine there will be moments at least as good if we break in but don't actually steal anything.
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Sep 25, 2017 08:19
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Take it. We should study it further.
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Sep 25, 2017 14:05
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The stepladder argument! kinda feels that if we've already broken in here, we might as well not leave empty-handed
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Sep 25, 2017 16:00
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quote:This appears to be a photograph of a ladder. Symbolic of climbing towards success, perhaps? nice
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Sep 25, 2017 16:49
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Xander77 posted:Heavens forbid that I try to influence the vote, but do you recall how many days we have before the trial starts? Nope!  Although: PMush Perfect posted:That's an "are you SURE?" if I ever saw one. Agreed there. Either this thread moves fast, or I'm not checking in often enough.  Finally: Do we take the photo?
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Sep 25, 2017 23:43
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Leave it. Once we've tampered with it, it stops being evidence.
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Sep 26, 2017 01:55
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Leave it alone.
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Sep 26, 2017 02:18
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  : Oh, it's you two again. Hey, nice work on Lady kitten's trial. Baron Rorgueil is pacing around a cell right now, ranting about wringing your neck.: Yeah. I'm not surprised.: He's super mad. But hey, a criminal's a criminal, right? If the lion didn't want a death sentence, he probably shouldn't have killed a guy. Oh, you're not here to defend him, are ya? Because that would be hilarious.: We're actually here to see Prince Juan Querido, heir to the throne of Spain.: The mouthy fox, huh? That guy's driving me nuts with his "Señores" and his flamboyant attitude. I say the sooner he hangs, the better. : Well, come on, then. While we're young. Prince Juan (George Bizet: Carmen Suite #1 - Aragonaise) (listen to this)  : Well, I wouldn't say legendary...: I wouldn't even say notable... : Such humility. I would expect nothing less from renowned individuals such as yourselves. But let us get down to business. I trust that my compañero, Mousey, explained the situation?: He told us that you have been accused of murder, but we need some further details before we can start our investigation.: Ah, of course. What is it that you wanted to know? : What were you reading, before we so rudely interrupted?: Ah, this book? It is a Spanish classic. Don Quixote of La Mancha. Do you know it? : I've heard of it. It's about the knight who jousts windmills, right?: That's one part of the story, yes. The hero is a virtuous-but-elderly knight by the name of Don Quixote. In the chapter you mentioned, he takes up arms against an army of giants who are terrorizing a town. Quixote's partner, Sancho, warns him that the giants are just windmills, and their flailing arms are just sails twirling in the wind. But Don Quixote doesn't listen. He takes up his lance, gets on his horse, and charges anyway.: Sounds more like DUMB Quixote, am I right, Falcon?: Perhaps he is dumb, Señor Sparrowson. But many of us spend our whole lives jousting imaginary giants.: Speak for yourself, Juan. I've never been jousting, let alone seen a giant.: I think we're getting off-track here.: Indeed. I tell you what, Señor Falcon. I'll lend you my copy of this book. Maybe you'll have time to give it a read at some point.: Maybe I will. Thank you. : Was there anything else you wanted to know? : Why did you come to Paris, Prince Juan?: I was on a diplomatic mission. I do not know whether you are familiar with current events, but you may have heard that my country is in a state of turmoil. Contenders for the Spanish throne are slandering, plotting, backstabbing... it's chaos, and the people are suffering. So I thought, "if I can befriend some French royalty, perhaps even the king himself, maybe I can strengthen my family's name". With the Querido dynasty restored, I would have a chance at bringing peace to my beautiful nation.: Welp. I guess that plan's gone out the window.: Sparrowson! Don't be rude.: No, he is right. I've failed terribly.: Don't fret, Prince Juan. We'll do everything in our power to clear your name. Maybe once the dust has settled, you will have another opportunity to speak with King Louis Philippe and complete your mission.: Thank you, Señor Falcon. I am sure you will do your best. Was there anything else you wanted to ask? : To be honest, Prince Juan, I'm a little confused as to how a member of royalty could get in so much trouble. Could you walk us through your activities on the day of the murder?: Of course. Let me see, where to begin... It was the cold and misty morning of the 6th of January. I had heard that King Louis Philippe was unveiling a new painting at the Palais du Louvre, and I wished to meet the man himself. So, after a brief stroll and picnic in Tuileries Garden, I entered the palace. I found the royal entourage in the Louvre's Grande Galerie. When I saw an opportunity, I presented a humble gift to the King. : How romantic.: But before the King could take it, a rather rude person snatched it from my fingers. It was a royal guard. A dog by the name of Major Howl. "Ouch," cried out Major Howl. "I have pricked myself upon the thorns of this dastardly flower." And then the Major slumped to the floor. His face turned blue. His mouth frothed. And he died.: He died straight away after being pricked?: Straight away, Señor.: It's obvious that the pricked finger was the cause of death, but I don't know of any poison that acts so fast.: Nor do I, Señor Falcon. But clearly, the police felt that poison upon the rose's thorns was the only logical explanation. And with so many witnesses, even the King himself, what could I say to defend myself?: So where did this rose come from?: I acquired it from a beautiful Parisian flower seller at Les Halles markets. A girl by the name of Catherine-Marie Cygne. But surely you're not suggesting that the flower girl applied the poison herself, Señor Falcon?: Well, I'm not making any accusations yet. I'm just planning to explore every line of inquiry.: Did you want to ask something else, Señor Falcon?: No, I think that's everything, thank you.: What's the plan, big bird?: Well, we have two lines of enquiry. We should head to the scene of the crime, the Palais du Louvre, and see if we can find any clues or witnesses, and we should interview the flower girl in Les Halles market to see if she has anything to say about this alleged poisoned rose.: Two tasks spread over six days? This almost sounds too easy.: Let's not get complacent.: Good luck, Señores. : What is it?: Did something seem... off... about Prince Juan to you? : He seemed colorful to me. Throwing roses, spouting about literature... Juan's one suave Spaniard.: Hmm. Maybe I misread him.: Well, look. If this is bothering you, then we could always ask around. Maybe someone in the city knows Juan's dirty secret. If he actually has anything to hide, that is.: Yeah! Let's dig up the dirt!: But we've still got a trial to prepare for. Priorities, Sparrowson.   : That's the Arc de Triomphe over there, right? I swear it's smaller than how I remember it.: That's the Arc de Triomphe ~du Carrousel~, you doofus. The big Arc de Triomphe is up the road.: What? No way! Why are there two?: Because when a man like Napoleon invades half of Europe, he gets to build as many triumphal arches as he drat well pleases. Severin Cocorico (Leo Delibes, Le roi s'amuse, Gaillarde) (listen to this) : Th-that arrogant voice.: ~Sigh~ Good day, Séverin. : Let's be civil, Jayjay. Why don't you introduce me to your new assistant?: Fine, fine. Severin, this is Sparrowson, my assistant.: Sparrowson, this is Severin, the most pompous prosecutor in Paris.: Oh, are you two old school friends or something?: More like arch-rivals.: Please, Jayjay. I think "arch-rival" implies some sort of competition. As I recall, we've met in court on five occasions, and on five occasions did you get humiliated terribly. I'm amazed a failing bird-brain like you is still able to get clients.: Actually, Severin, business has never been better. I'll have you know that I am currently being employed by the Prince of Spain, no less.: The Prince of Spain? Juan Querido? Well, well, this is quite an amusing coincidence.: Don't tell me -: Correct. I am the prosecutor for the very same case.: ...: It is a pity that the Spanish prince will indubitably hang, but I suppose that is what he gets for hiring a bird-brain to represent him.: Don't call me bird-brain! You're the only bird-brain here, Séverin!: Tsk. "One always speaks badly when one has nothing to say." - Voltaire.: Uh oh, he's giving you the verbal smack-down. Quick, Falcon, make a witty retort.: Huh? Oh, yeah. Uh... : "A witty saying proves nothing." - Voltaire.: OOOOOOH~: Heh. Very good, Jayjay. A worthy riposte. But enough talk. If you messieurs would excuse me, I have a case to prepare for. Jayjay. Sparrowson. I'll see you two in court. : He did seem like a bit of a cockerel. But is it true what he said? You know, that he trounced you in court five times?: I can't deny it. Severin has a reputation as a ruthlessly thorough prosecutor. Mountains of evidence, surprise witnesses... it's no wonder he always manages to one-up me.: But this time will be different, right?: I hope so...: I know! For you see... : Sparrowson! That's, that's, that's... : Pretty impressive, actually. I swear you were standing three meters away the whole time.: You tall birds are so busy with your heads in the clouds that you don't ever notice us small folk running around your feet! Pinching Cocorico's pocket was like taking candy from a very tall baby.: Let's take a closer look...  : And those penned-in arrows seem to show the route taken by the king's entourage. Which means that the king first went...  : Didn't Prince Juan say that he spent the morning in the Tuileries gardens? : Sounds like we have a lot of places to visit. Where should we go first?Xander77 fucked around with this message at 11:33 on Jun 23, 2018 |
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Sep 26, 2017 12:07
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Never.
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Sep 26, 2017 13:35
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...
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Sep 26, 2017 14:48
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Sep 26, 2017 18:58
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THREE DOTS. I hope he does actually try pronouncing them.
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Sep 27, 2017 03:29
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Glazius posted:THREE DOTS. This would be great. ...ing this one. 
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Sep 27, 2017 03:58
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 : Our first destination is evidence-collection at Salle du Tibre. : If I understand Cocorico's notes correctly, this is the room the King and his entourage stopped in before heading to the Grande Galerie. This room doesn't seem to be very popular. I don't see anybody around to interrogate.: Interview.: Right. Interview.: Well, since it's quiet, maybe we should take the opportunity to do a little snooping.: What would be the point? Surely all the interesting evidence would be in the Grande Galerie, where the murder took place.: Think about it, Falcon. The police would have already gone over the Grande Galerie with a fine-toothed comb. But I bet that numb-skull Inspector Volerti didn't even think to check this room for clues. There might be a murder weapon just under our beaks!: Your logic seems a little questionable, but it couldn't hurt to have a look, I suppose. : These columns have been designed to look Roman. I think the style is ionic.: It's not ionic, Falcon. Iony is when a character says something, but the reader knows it means something completely different.: That's not... never mind. : A supporting column. It's holding the roof up.: If the column were truly supportive, it wouldn't hold the roof up. It would encourage the roof to get to its location on time.: ~Sigh~ : I see a cabinet full of engraved plates. Mostly bronze.: How much do you think they are worth?: I don't know. Three hundred francs apiece, at least.: What?! Are you serious? I'm in the wrong profession.: I don't think archaeology works as a get-rich-quick scheme, Sparrowson.: Who said anything about archaeology? I'm going to become a museum robber.: Oh. Well, that's one way to get rich quick. : This is some sort of ceremonial container. It's beautifully crafted, but what did it contain? Maybe it's an arcane wine cabinet.: Don't be so ignorant, Falcon. This is a sacred Mesopotamian artifact, gifted to Emperor Hadrian for his victory at Euphrates in 123 AD.: Stop making stuff up. You and I both know nothing about Mesopotamia.: Alright, alright. You got me. This could be a hippo's chamber pot for all I know. : I'm not sure what this is. Some sort of stand or podium? Maybe it's just a decorative piece.: It's a Roman doorstop. Roman doors were enormous marble slabs, so the doorstops had to be similarly large in order to stay in place.: I don't think that's right...: My uncle's a Roman historian. Trust me. : A shiny, copper urn. I guess it was used for carrying water. Or for cremated remains. Probably not both at the same time.: It smells good.: Don't sniff the exhibits, Sparrowson.: No, really. This urn smells amazing. It's almost... chocolaty.: You poor thing. You're hallucinating from hunger. Would you like to stop by a bakery on our way back to the office?: Don't patronize me, Falcon! My nose never lies. I'm telling you, there's something in here! I can feel it.: Now you're touching the exhibit? That's definitely a no-no. : Put that down, Sparrowson. It's someone's old rubbish.: No, look! It's a chocolate wrapper! Judging by the smell, the chocolate was bitter and dark. Seventy, perhaps eighty percent cocoa. Belgian in origin. The level of wrapper crumpling and firmness of the chocolate residue indicate that this was discarded just a few days ago. Yes... I am certain. The chocolate contained in this wrapper was undoubtedly consumed on the 7th of January, the day of the murder.: Mon Dieu, Sparrowson! You deduced all that from smelling the wrapper?: Imagine what I could work out if I tasted it.: That won't be necessary. Sparrowson, if you could apply this level of critical thinking to areas outside of food, you would be the world's greatest detective.: If only all evidence were edible...: So, do you have any idea which shop this chocolate was purchased from? That might help us track down the person who consumed it.: No, there's no possible way we could know that. I suppose we will just have to visit every confectioner in town and sample every bit of merchandise for comparison. What a chore.: Interesting. Because I can see "Lander Hagelslak's Chocolate Emporium" written on the wrapper.: Well, you can't blame a bird for trying. : We're done here. For now, at least.: We can't spend all day staring at Roman artifacts, I suppose. So, where to next?  : I believe the murder occurred right under the new painting.: I see hundreds of paintings. Which one is the new one?: I haven't the foggiest. We will have to ask someone.   : (I don't want any attention... maybe he isn't talking to me...)  : Oh. Uh. Hi!: Would you happen to know which painting was unveiled on the 7th of January? The one the king came to visit?: Oh, yeah! I can help you with that. It’s the piece right behind you. : That's one noble looking penguin. What do you think of it, Falcon?: What do I think? Well, I'm no art critic, but... : The careful brushstrokes. The pre-Raphelite soft tones and the subliminal use of light... This is contrasted, nuanced work. It’s an evocative painting that alludes to a forgotten era.: You said a lot of words, but I’m not sure if I'm any closer to knowing your opinion.: I’m getting the impression that you messieurs aren't regulars at art galleries.: No. We're a right pair of philistines. : Then, I'm guessing you’re here to investigate the Kings assassination attempt?: That’s right. We were actually hoping we could ask you a couple of questions about what you saw.: Oh, I wasn’t even in Paris when the murder took place. I didn’t see anything. But, uh... : What's this? “R&M Associates, the home of Renard Vulpes, private investigator”? Thank you, but I don’t normally deal with these grey-area-of-the-law-types.: No, please give the guy a chance! He helped me out of a bind before, and I'm sure he can do the same for you!: Well, I'm not making any promises, but I'll keep hold of the card. We appreciate the help, in any case.: It’s no trouble. : Thank you for your time, monsieur.: Is there anything else we can do here?: Well, ideally we would turn the whole Grande Galerie upside-down in our hunt for evidence. But that's not possible with so many people around. We should probably just move to another room.: Obviously, I go right back.: It looks like that porcupine fellow has left the building.: Did you want to ask him something?: Nothing in particular. I just wanted some more details on this “Renard Vulpes”, but I suppose well have to leave it for now.: On to the gardens!  Nothing seems out of the ordinary, until they spot a familiar face picking up litter by a tree line. : Hey, Falcon. Doesn’t that ground's keeper over there look familiar?: Yeah... Now that I’m looking at him, he does look a lot like that photographer.. what’s-his-name... : Salador Serenado! : ...: That’s not his name. Actually, I’m pretty sure that's not anybody’s name. You just spewed a word-stew.: Try Robittio Robinio.: Hmm?Goofy  : Did someone call me? Oh, it’s you. The lawyers who don't appreciate a masterful photograph when they see it.: It's good to see that you gave up on your artsy dreams to pursue the more grounded career of groundskeeping.: Hey, I'm not doing this willingly. I was given community service for committing perjury. Can you believe that? They gave me, an esteemed photographer, community service. Me!: Yeah, I can believe that.: Perjury's somewhat serious. You should be thankful that you got off without jail time.: Pfft. You sound just like that self-righteous Judge Maxime. So, did you two want to ask me something, or are you just here to gawp?: Personally, I'm just gawping. : I don't suppose you've bumped into a Spanish fox who goes by the name of prince Juan, have you?: A Spanish fox? No, I've never met anyone like that. If this is about that assassination attempt on the king, then you're asking the wrong person. I only started working here today.: I see.: Was there anything else you wanted?: So, how’s that new groundskeeping job working out?: Terrible Tourists are pigs! Sometimes literally! Look at all this rubbish I've found. Beer bottles, tin cans, apple cores... : A whole book I could understand, but a single page? What kind of blithering moron loses just one page?: Wait a moment. May I take a closer look at that, monsieur?: ...Don Quixote... That's a page from Don Quixote! >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> : May I take it off your hands, monsieur?>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> : Sure. What’s it worth to you?: What's it worth? It's trash. It's literally worthless.: Then I suppose I'll be destroying it, as per my duties...  : I'll speak with Judge Maxime. I'll put in a good word, and might be able to get your sentence reduced.: Really? You’ll do that for me? Thank you, monsieur. I would really appreciate that. Here, take the page! : Do you want to ask anything else?: That's all. We'll let you get back to your work, Monsieur Robinio.: Leave, come back. : Are we done here? : Good call. We can always come back later, if we've forgotten something.Xander77 fucked around with this message at 11:46 on Jun 23, 2018 |
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Sep 27, 2017 10:19
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I don't think "she's like the only other named character in the story" is much of a case, is it?
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Sep 27, 2017 11:45
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Yeah, we've got absolutely no evidence on her.
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Sep 27, 2017 14:15
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Nope
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Sep 27, 2017 14:48
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No. She is a petty thief, not a murderer.
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Sep 27, 2017 15:48
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 : We have a lot of possible locations to explore. Let's have a look at the one that won't use up a day first:   : Uh... hello? Is this the office of Renard Vulpes?: !: Ah! It's you two!: Mousey? What are you doing here?: Oh, uh, this is where I work. : Although, to be completely honest, it's normally Monsieur Vulpes who chooses which cases to take on...: I see. Well then, can we speak with Monsieur Vulpes?: Oh, uh, I'm afraid that won’t be possible. See, Monsieur Vulpes is on vacation right now. He's visiting his father in England.: England?: But he is set to return in a week or two! Maybe you can come back then?: That's no good to us. Our case will be over by then.: There's nothing to be done about it. I suppose we'll have to come back later.: Same as always. : Hi Mousey.: Is there any sign of Monsieur Vulpes?: No, no. Not yet. He’s still.. vacationing. Come back next week, next week!   Lander Hagelslak (Saint Saens: Carnival of the Animals~L'Elephant (The Elephant))  : I am Lander Hagelslak, the founder and owner of this establishment.: And I am Jayjay Falcon, defense attorney. Good day, Monsieur.: Oh, lawyers! Very fancy. I must say that I once dreamed of being a lawyer, but, well circumstances wouldn't allow it. It’s a funny story. You see, when I was a young boy,I befriended the son of a Hungarian attorney...: (Falcon. You have to help me.): Wh-what is it?: (It’s the smell, Falcon. It’s overpowering me. It's demanding that I lay waste to the shop.): For pity's sake, restrain yourself, Sparrowson. : YES.: No, no, no. We're actually here on business, Monsieur.: Business?: First things first. We believe that this chocolate wrapper originated from your shop. Are we correct? : This was almost certainly bought from this very establishment.  : Is there any chance that your produce could have been... contaminated?: Absolutely not, monsieur! I stand by my claim that my chocolate is the finest in all of Paris. I go to great lengths to ensure that the highest quality is ensured. Any contaminations would be terrible for business, you understand.: I see.: Was there something else you messieurs wanted to ask? : Can you tell us who bought the chocolate that was contained in this Wrapper, Monsieur Hagelslak?: I'm afraid not, messieurs. : I thought elephants never forget.: My memory is impeccable, monsieur. But you must understand that I have dozens of customers a day. There are hundreds of people who could have potentially bought this particular item.: Hmm... so your memory is good, but you need further information... If we were to give you the description and name of a person, would you be able to tell us whether they purchased something from you?: Oh! Yes, yes, that I could probably do, monsieur.  : Have you ever served Juan Querido, the prince of Spain?: A prince of Spain? No, monsieur.:Well, that’s good to hear. Our clue would have turned into a dead-end if our own client turned out to be the chocolate fiend.: I did once serve a princess from Mali, if that is any help. You see, I met the girl while hiking through the Himalayas...: Please stop. : Have you ever served a tiny mouse named Mousey?: No, monsieur. Mice terrify me. : Have you ever served a member of the royal guard by the name of Major Howl?: No, Monsieur. : Are you sure?: Yes, Monsieur. I have served many soldiers, but I don't recall seeing a Major here in recent memory.: What does that mean, Falcon? Have we lost our lead?: Not necessarily. It just means that Major Howl didn't buy the chocolate that may have killed him. There's still the possibility that someone bought the chocolate for him. That's our lead. That's who we want to find.: I see.: I did once serve a high-ranking officer of the British army who was on his way to Zimbabwe, if you want to hear that story.: No, I don't want to hear that story. : You know, Falcon. It’s possible that we just haven’t encountered the chocolate fiend yet. Rather than coming back here every day and making aimless guesses, we should wait until we have someone specific in mind.: You might have a point, Sparrowson.: Thank you for your time, Monsieur Hagelslak. We shall return when our investigation has progressed a little. : Any time, messieurs.    Vendors and buskers, performers and thieves, bourgeois and peasants all bustle from place to place. : Prince Juan said that he met a flower girl here. Cygne, I think he said her name was.: There's a swan with flowers over there. Do you think that's her?: I think so. It's possible that she knows the murderer, or even that she is the murderer herself, so we should probably act with tact and finesse. : Tact, Sparrowson. Tact. We've been over this. Cygne (George Bizet: Carmen Suite #1 - Intermezzo) : All the characters have "talking / typing" sounds... kinda like Undertale? Don't know what those are properly called. Anyways, Cygne has the softest "bee--bee-beep" sounds imaginable, to go along with her theme.: Yes. I wish to purchase a rose from m'lady. : I’m afraid that I'm out of roses. I sold my last one a week ago. : ’Tis a beautiful flower from a fair maiden.: Please don't mind Sparrowson. He fell out of his nest as a baby and has said dumb things ever since.: Hey!: Let me introduce myself. I am Jayjay Falcon, defense attorney. Are you Mademoiselle Cygne?: That's right. Catherine-Marie Cygne. I suppose you’re here to ask about the royal assassination attempt?: How did you know? : To be honest, I'm surprised it's taken so long for someone to directly question me.: The Parisian police seem to have a habit of missing obvious leads. So, do you mind if we ask you a couple of questions?: Business is slow. Please, ask away. : Where do you acquire your flowers from, if I may ask?: Normally, I gather them from the wild.  : But since it's still Winter, I have to buy a lot of my flowers from a merchants who travel to Italy and the Netherlands. That's how I acquired the rose.: What can you tell us about this particular merchant?: Not a lot, monsieur. He's just an old man who passes through Paris a few times a year, selling his goods and Wares.: I see.: No chance of him being a super secret assassin?: No, monsieur. Did you want to ask something else? : Mademoiselle, you mentioned that you sold your last rose a week ago. Who did you sell it to?: The person who bought the rose... I didn’t catch his name, but he was a charming red fox.: Sounds like our Juan.: I met him around a week ago, on the 6th. We talked for a little while. About the usual things, you know, like how everyone seems to be in debt these days.Then he bought a rose and left. : Oh? Why's that?: Well... Actually, never mind. It’s just a gut feeling. : Mademoiselle, it just so happens that were defending this particular fox in the Cour d’assises. If you have something to say that could prove his innocence, now would be the time to let us know.: ...I'm sorry, messieurs. I can't. : Wait! Mademoiselle Cygne, wait up!>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> : ...drat.: Nice display of “tact and finesse”, Falcon. You scared her off!: The swan obviously knows something crucial about the case. We need to get to the bottom of whatever it is.: Agreed. But I don’t think she'll be in the mood to tell us anything else. I know. Why don’t we try acting with a little more “tact and finesse” next time?: Hush.Xander77 fucked around with this message at 15:51 on Jun 23, 2018 |
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Sep 27, 2017 17:50
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The blood could have come from The Bloody Rare Steak, naturally.
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Sep 27, 2017 18:00
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Of course. The steak makes more sense than cannibalism.
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Sep 27, 2017 18:17
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drat, this was before DNA was invented I suppose.
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Sep 27, 2017 20:09
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chitoryu12 posted:Of course. The steak makes more sense than cannibalism. Especially since there's no cutlery, so she had to eat it with her fingers.
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Sep 27, 2017 20:11
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Is it wrong for me to wish for Sir Raven to be in this game? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qimBHg1Ch54
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Sep 27, 2017 21:22
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Throwing in yet another vote for Pressure point 3 -- the blood was from the rare steak that had to be eaten by hand because of the thieving maid. What if the maid is playing a long con and she stole the cutlery specifically so that she could implicate someone in a murder later on? 
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Sep 27, 2017 21:23
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Clearly the steak.
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Sep 28, 2017 00:50
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THE RED HERRING
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Sep 28, 2017 01:17
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PMush Perfect posted:THE RED HERRING not emptyquoting
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Sep 28, 2017 01:21
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PMush Perfect posted:THE RED HERRING Side question - how much leeway do we have in general to gently caress things up? Because I totally want to see the red herring, but I also don't want to blow an easy answer like the bloody rare steak.
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Sep 28, 2017 02:21
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The clear thing to do here is bring up the steak they had for dinner; I mean, we barely have any other evidence at this point, and none of the rest fits.
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Sep 28, 2017 03:54
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