The Journey to…the Mysterious Island - Amber's Prologue - Installment Two

After what seemed like forever, Millie ambled in, her shuffling gait making the floorboards squeak in an odd fashion. Scowling at her, I snatched the martini and took a swallow, immediately spewing the contents out. Thankfully she was in the path of the liquid projectile, sparing my wallpaper and carpet a mess she would have made worse in her pathetic attempts to clean. And as she always seemed filthy anyways, the martini now dripping down her face might actually be the closest she would come to a bath in months.

"Goddess, Millie! This is awful! What did you do to my drink?" I angrily exclaimed.

She immediately began her nervous foot-hopping, hand-wringing routine again, head hanging down as I glared at her. Elijah perched on one hip, my hand on the other, I tapped my foot impatiently, awaiting an answer. In a way, I felt sorry for the half-witted wretch, but this just will not do. My patience was already strained to its limits for the morning. All I wanted a simple martini.

"I...I..I'm sorry, m...m..m'lady," she stammered, "but we are out of gin and vermouth....I...I...improvised."

I arched an eyebrow. "Improvised?"

"Yes, m'lady, I used cooking sherry and pine oil."

I was flabbergasted. The day was already getting worse, if that were possible. "Why didn't you go to the pavillion and get some Uisge Beatha?"

"I did go, m'lady," she replied in a whisper, "Your guests drank it all last night."

I sighed aloud. "No matter. We have something important to do. Gather up Elizabeth, and let's go find Sean, and have him hitch up the carriage." We would have to take the babies with us, as my last nanny, Bessy, upon hearing that gambling was now banned everywhere, went into a state of mental depression so deep she became catatonic and I had to commit the poor lass to the Tamrannoch Sanitorium, and I daren't trust Millie to the babies alone.

As she shuffled to the stables, I made a detour to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of cooking sherry. By the time I reached the coach, I already had half the bottle empty. Sean gave me a bright salute and cheery smile, as he held the door open for me and assisted Millie and me up into the carriage. I told him to go to the Cay, and set my mind on brooding while I rocked Elijah.

It seems that I was not the only person headed to the Cay. Indeed, it seemed as if all of Caledon, and a good portion of Steelhead, New Babbage, both Tombstones, Neufreistadt, Neualtenburg, and Deadwood/Yankton were crowding in the port village. Sean had a difficult time manuevering around the milling curiosity-seekers. There was quite the festive atmosphere, and apparently some intrepid mainland former casino owners had set up stalls everywhere, selling all sorts of "Phillip" items, and taking side-bets on how long Caledon would last. Admitedly I was quite confused. At last I saw Sir Alex in the crowd, looking for me. I had Sean stop the buggy, and I alit from my seat. I felt like I was in the middle of a carnival. Apparently there was this huge volcanic island poking out of the Middle Sea. Every now and then it would belch forth magma balls, and the crowd would "ooohh" and "aahhh" as if there were a fireworks show in process. Sir Alex came up to me, and humbly bowing, stated he was glad to see me well. Seeing a "Lava-Lager" venodr nearby, I sent Sean to pick me one up, as I had by now finished the sherry. Sir Alex filled me in on some of the details of the recent events as we awaited Sean's return. Now at last I knew who "Phillip" was, a massive inhabited volcanic island in the Middle Sea, about to destroy life as we know it. When Sean brought back my lager, I ordered him to stay with the carriage while I and my small entourage made our way to the docks.

There, Countess Kate Nichols and the entirety of the Royal Society for the Advancement of Knowledge in the Natural Sciences were gathered and seemed to be in quite a state of panic and dismay. The Duchesses Carntaigh and Loch Avi were milling about, agitated as well. From what snatches of conversation I could get, it seemed the end of the world (or Caledon, at any rate), was at hand, and the Society had no funds to send an expedition to stop the event. I began to grow concerned, and fishing in my reticule I found my last seven Lindens, (the rest having been spent on parcel rents, SLRFL, and tipping the DJ's at my ball last night), and offered them to the Society. Lady Kate stared at me blankly for a moment, then sweetly smiled and thanked me but suggested I could better help the Society if I donated my prim hat. Always wanting to help charities, I gladly gave it to her, and told her I had more back at that manor.

At that point, I saw Lord Bardhaven approach. He flashed me a smile, then turned a cool gaze on Millie. She cringed and hissed and made the sign of the cross, spitting out the words "Devil!" His smile turned to ice, and sqealing in terror, Millie hid behind me, and began reciting the Ave Maria in Latin. Lord Bardhaven flashed his smile at me again, and said to me, "I am glad to see things are working out with your help." I just grunted and curtsied, as he flourished a bow, and then he proceeded to address the Royal Society.

“I couldn’t help but overhear that you are a bit strapped for operating funds, vis a vis, an expedition to dear Phillip out there. I think I could see my way clear to underwriting such important work pro bono…of course, quid pro quo, ipso facto, there would be certain…accommodations I would demand, ad nauseaum, habeas corpus, e pluribus unum.”

The Society on their part gladly accepted Lord Bardhaven's offer, though I had a deep suspicion that they were going to get a "Millie" on their hands. In the pit of my stomach I had a deep foreboding. Indeed, the day was getting worse, and my lager was empty.

The Journey to…the Mysterious Island - Amber's Prologue - Installment One

I groaned in a decidedly unpleasant manner, and threw the blankets over my head, disturbed at the unpleasant feeling of sudden unexpected rays of sunlight stabbing at my sleeping eyes, and the god-awful sound of Millie singing to herself in a raspy, grating voice that only is perfected with the practice of nurturing untrainable vocal chords for 70-plus years. Head still pounding from last night's adventures with the bottle, and something else I still coudn't put my mental fingers on, I rolled over in my bed in disgust.

"Good morning to you, m'lady!" Millie sing-songed, her voice causing my ears to itch as if a dozen fleas decided to take up residence there.

Why I keep the woman I don't know. She can't clean worth a lick, and is a horrid cook. Oh yes, that's right. Some years back, at the Hotel in Steelhead, I had gotten into an Absinthe drinking contest with Lord Bardhaven. Half-way through, we had settled on this bet with a ridiculously high monetary value, to see who can out-drink the other. I was totally stunned that I had actually lost to the man. His constitution far exceeded that which I expected of him, as pale as he always looked. In any event, dear ole brother Gott had just sunk the entire family fortune in a business venture involving the production of gun-powder propelled Hydrogen-balloon airships on the island nation of Zwabalabbaland. One of the local drunken native workers decided to smoke a cigar while sitting on a powder keg and fell asleep. Needless to say, the factory as well the entire island no longer exist and there went $50,000,000 Lindens up in smoke. As poppy was the major cash crop of the island, the plume that arose from that island was soon drifted over another island, getting all the locals there so high as they went on a rampage, and then ran lemming-like over the cliff. In short, I had no money, and Lord Bradhaven insisted that he would be genteel enough as to let me take the hag off of his hands, "as she is quite expensive to room and board," and I would be saving him more money than he would have gained if I actually could pay my debt. So now I was stuck with this pathetic excuse for a maid. I soon found out she was hardly an expense, seeming content to sleep in the cellar and eat the resident vermin there, but her brutish personality and clumsy skills often caused me such consternation as to think Lord Bardhaven isn't as noble as he pretended to be. Sadly, the burden of noblesse oblige settled heavily upon my shoulders, and as I can't bear the thought of sending even the most villainous of souls out in the streets homeless, I was stuck with the cretinous servant till such a time availed of itself whereas I could pawn her upon some unwitting person. Hmmmmmm. Colonel O'Toole is in need of a new servant. Maybe I can challenge him to an Absinthe duel...

It was senseless trying to sleep any longer. Millie was hovering over my bed, prattling some nonesense about "Phillip." I opened my eyes, and there she was, her one good bulbous eye nigh unto popping out of its socket, all pale and glazed over, peering at me. Her other eye was missing, the skin over its former home sewn tightly shut. How she lost I don't know, and didn't want to ask. I always suspected though that one of her meals was still alive while she tried to eat it, and bit back. She grinned at me, well if you could call the peculiar way she contorted her mouth a grin. She had less teeth than a viper, and the one she did have was jagged and stained an odd greyish blue colour. Her hunched body was literally hopping up and down from foot to club foot in manic glee, her wisps of hair whipping about like Medusan adders, wringing her gnarled fingers together nervously.

"Wake up, m'lady, wake up!" she croaked, her fetid breath washing over my face as she leaned in close to me, "It's Phillip! Phillip is here!"

My internals heaving nauseously, I decided to close my eyes again, and threw the covers over my head for good measure. Goddess, I drank too much last night, and this wasn't helping me any.

"What nonsense are you talking about Millie?", my muffled grumbles enquired of her, "Is King Phillip Linden coming to Caledon for a visit? If it is to him you are referring, you will use the proper address of royals!"

"Noooooo, m'lady, Phillip...", she ended her statement with a shriek of fear. The cause of her terror-laden wail was the same cause that had me suddenly jolt upright in bed, the blankets and sheets sliding off my naked body. Because at that very moment the whole house shook violently. Even though it was a clear day, it suddenly got darker as a black roiling cloud passed over the face of the sun. Goosebumps covered my flesh, and my skin tightened in the most inconvenient of places, considering the circumstances. Feeling Millie's leering gaze upon my body like rancid oil sliding over me, I quickly pulled my blankets back up over my body.

"what in blazes was that!?" I tremblingly asked.

"Phillip, m'lady! Phillip!" she rasped, going back to her hopping about.

Surely the woman was mad. At that moment, the ground shook again, waking up poor Elijah Bastillion. Raivyn Elizabeth slept on, oblivious to the commotion. Elijah on the other hand was now caterwauling, so I directed Millie to bring him to me. Even though Dr. Mason cured both my children of their vampyrism, Raivyn liked to sleep the days away, and Elijah never lost his fangs, and still liked to bite. He especially liked to bite Millie. Which he promptly did when she picked him up. She grimaced but brought him to me nonetheless, knowing I could have quite a temper in the mornings. For some reason Elijah now seemed content, and was smiling and cooing by the time he reached my arms.

I could hear a banging on the door downstairs, so I sent Millie out to see who was so insistently knocking. As soon as she left the room, I arose from bed and put the now content Elijah in his crib, while I got dressed. Looking out the window, I could see that there was alot of smoke in the direction of the Cay. I wondered if maybe the aliens were attacking again. By the time I was dressed, Millie returned, holding an envelope. I proceeded to take it from her, and ordered her to get me a martini. Shaken, not stirred. Extra dry. She would probably mess it up, but I needed a stiff drink. I opened the envelope. It was a telegraph from my Steward, Sir Alex Chadbourne. He urgently insisted I come to the Cay, post haste, as it was an issue of national emergency. The ground shook again, which set Elijah to wailing once more. Sighing deeply, I picked up my bairn and rocked him till he was soothed, awaiting my drink, and pondering what was happening. Earthquakes, black belching smoke, national emergency in the Cay, crying babies, banging headache, and an incompetent maid who was taking way too long to get me my martini. This was going to be one of those days.

Dolly Parton - I will always love you

What I Wanted To Hear Instead of Angry Songs

Lighthouses of Caledon & Steelhead

Sometimes it's nice to find a beacon that guides one from the burdens that press so darkly upon the heart. What I needed was some light to shine its way through the fogs and troubled waters of hopes dashed, and a heart drowning in the oceans of sorrow. What better a symbol of hope to sailors fearful of being awashed upon the treacherous shoals of life, than the welcoming ray of warmth emanating from a stately lighthouse. And so, to honour those fellow Caledonians and Steelheadians who have reached out their arms of love to me, and pulled me in safe from the storm, I give you this gift...the lighthouses of Steelhead and Caledon. It was a project I had begun several days prior, and thought now was a fitting time to finish it.

I would like to give a special thanks to Lady "Whoop-ass" Protector Diamanda Gustavson, who went with me on most of this journey of the soul photography yesterday evening, giving me her company and a ready ear! Another thanks goes to Major Erasmus Margulis, who offered me the sanctuary of his lighthouse. I don't think he expected me to use it in this way. *smiles softly*

Kattryn Severin's Lighthouse in Steelhead

Joni Vargas' Lighthouse in The Moors

Ordinal Malaprop's Steampunk Lighthouse in Caledon Prime

Reitsuki Kojima's Lighthouse in The Port

Major Erasmus Margulis' Lighthouse in The Cay

Doc Wrangler's Lighthouse in Kittiwickshire

Zoe Connoly's Lighthouse in Regency

A Broken Engagement

This perhaps will be one of the saddest entries ever in my journal. I found it to be necessary last evening to break my engagement to Mr. Americanpsycho98 Book. We are no longer a couple. I have no desire to explain publicly why. If asked privately, I may or may not tell you, depending on how well I know you. I do want to say this, though. He is still a friend, and remains so, and I will continue to allow him to sell his goods from my Boutique in the Moors. I would hope my friends continue to treat him respectfully, courteously, and kindly, as they always have in the past. I am in no way making any public denouncements of him. He is hurting as much as I am right now, maybe even more so. He has done many good things to me and for me (such as keeping my parcels in Caledon alive while my computer was dead for 40 days). Being single again will take alot of getting used to. This is something that I don't want to do, but it is also something I have to do. Thank you, 98, for all the good memories. I will cherish them. And thank you my friends (you know who you are), who have taken time to comfort and support me in this time of emotional trial. *wipes her tears and gets ready for the tea*

The Harry Potter Dance

Miss Shylah Garmes, winner of the costume contest.

Caledonians and Steelheadians love to party, and don't have to look hard to find a reason. In this case it was the occassion of the release of the final Harry Potter book. Though most attendees were well-versed in the series, there were several, myself included, who know next to nothing about the books. Like I said, we need little excuse to find a reason to party. grins broadly This dance was part of a larger series of Harry Potter-related events scattered throughout Caledon. There was a trivia event (as I am in near total ignorance of the subject matter, I thought to leave that one alone). There was a sorting the hat event ( before I went to the dance, I had no clue what that meant, so I didn't go to that event either...however, once I got to the ball, the term was explained to me, and I went to the website to which I was directed, took an incredibly long test, and found out I was a member of the Ravenclaw House, which after I read the discription of said house, came as no surprise at all to me). The dance event was hosted by Librarians Mr. JJ and Miss Mica, held on land graciously provided by Her Grace, the Duchess of Primvernesse, Lady CoyoteAngel Dimsum, and was DJ'ed by none other than Her Grace the Duchess of Carntaigh, Lady Gabrielle Riel. The music was fantastic, and the conversation quite witty, with numerous humourous limericks exchanged among the guests about each other (which will be posted by Lady Gabi in her blog...I'm looking forward to it). I took photos of a number of the guests, shown below.

Sir Hotspur "Hotsie" O'Toole, Colonel

Caledon's Premier Librarian JJ Drinkwater

Her Grace The Duchess of Carntaigh, Lady Gabrielle Riel, DJ for the event

Jarl Otenth Paderborn (I think)

98 and I

Lady Protector Diamanda Gustavson

Dr. Mitsu Figaro

Miss CeAire and Mr. Hawk Decosta (I think)

Lord Edaward Pearse and Lady Christine McAllister-Pearse

Harry Potter Party-goers

Miss Hermione Pennyfeather

An owl watches over the festivities

Flaming pitchforks and torches! Oh my!

Lord Edward Pearse as a very wizardly-looking but deadly dangerous drop bear (not to be confused with the kind and cuddly koala bear). I think if Lord Edward wore this avi, he would have won the contest.

JJ

Miss Eugenia Burton

A true Hogwarts night!

The importance of Libraries in our SL communities!