42 réponses à ce sujet

[Olivia Wilde]

I am pretty sure Olivia is a dude

It's all relative on the interwebz

[mybudgee]

It's all relative on the interwebz

See?!?

[Uccio]

Luc placed his Brandy shot on the seat crouching next to Sallander´s cooling body, what a mess he thought. Who´s going to pay me now? He gazed at Grant quickly, the ex-cop seemed to be on his thoughts. That man was hard to read. "Au revoir, my old friend" Luc thought staring at his old associate, "I will see you in hell you old bastard".

He stood up grabbing his drink raising it for the deceased, "chin chin, mon ami", and drank it in one swipe. That Barnesworth, he had taken something from Sallanders pocket, of that he was sure. What did he take? Maybe I need to have a word with him, I can be very persuasive he thought smiling shortly.
Luc had always had an eye for these little details. It had kept him alive all these years. He adjusted the luger 9mm in his back and touched his pocket to see the "old cutter" was still there. Anyone wanting a piece of him had to work for it.

Allard strolled casually across the dining room stopping by Mrs Peacock. "Madam, I would love to have a little chat with you. At your pleasure" he said bowing slightly to her with his most charming smile. Without waiting for her answer he headed towards the kitchen after Barnesworth slipping into the room silently. He saw the butler holding this strange thing is his hand eyeing it.

Luc sneaked right next to him like he usually did when "working". "Monsieur Barnesworth, I think we need to talk" he whispered to the man´s ear with his raspy voice his dark eyes gleaming in the kitchen light.

[Dovahzeymahlkey]

Trixie was still not sure how she had gotten into this situation.

 

It had started as just another show in another tiny town, this one named Promise. She didn't like to dwell on it, but she preferred small towns these days . . . they were more receptive to her talents, more interested in flash and spectacle, and easier to impress. Less likely to be caught up with the latest gossip from Ponyville.

The show had been dismal, even by her reduced standards. Normally, her wagon – smaller and scruffier than her old one, but still brightly-painted – attracted attention as she rolled into town, assuring her of at least a moderate crowd. Her fireworks and patter drew more ponies, and after getting them hooked with a few simple tricks, she issued her usual challenge: anything anypony could do, she could best. Inevitably, a few locals with delusions of grandeur would take her offer, but Trixie had been handling such glory-hounds for years, and rare was the one she couldn't humiliate. Play up the crowd, a few more tricks, and collect her bits. A time-tested pattern.

 

Except that Promise didn't follow the pattern.

Oh, she attracted attention, but it wasn't excitement or even curiosity . . . it was more like disdain and condescension. Earth ponies were usually the easiest marks for Trixie's show; having no natural magic of their own, they were more appreciative of her flash and glamour. Although Promise was full of earth ponies – she didn't notice any pegasi or unicorns, in fact – they seemed remarkably indifferent to the prospect of a magic show.

The gathered crowd was sparse, but Trixie gave them her best efforts regardless. Conjuring, fireworks, illusions, levitation, all the usual elements of her performance. This produced halfhearted applause at best, and some conspicuous looks of disdain. Even her challenge – to best anypony present at whatever stunt they cared to try – did not get one single taker.

 

She had just about decided to end the show early, when the local law appeared. A gangly, self-important young pony with a flute cutie mark lead the way, followed by a heavyset brown stallion to whom the crowd deferred. The introduced themselves as Deputy Flute and the sheriff, and promptly arrested her – exactly what for, Trixie was not certain. Something about her magic show, though the screaming match she and Flute had gotten into made it hard to be certain.

The sheriff took matters in hoof, bundling her off to jail without so much as giving her a chance to take off her hat. Trixie considered fighting, but a glance at the crowd dispelled that notion – the satisfaction on their faces convinced her that they would take great delight in holding her for the sheriff, even if she managed to slip his grasp. With bad grace she acceded to the inevitable, and soon found herself in a small, clean cell.

 

She fell asleep on the thin pallet, brooding over the unfairness of the world.

[leighzard]

Fanny groggily came to, her head in her arms.  She discretely wiped the corner of her mouth, removing a trail of saliva.  She must have dozed off.  She remembered having the strangest dream in which she was some sort of show pony.  It was like the plot of Disney movie, which was an incredibly prescient observation of her given that the studio's first feature-length film wouldn't be released for another decade.  Whatever Barnesworth put in those drinks was something else.  She shook her head to clear the cobwebs and hoped that no one had noticed.

 

*****

 

The professor watched Barnesworth head into the kitchen, followed closely by Allard.  She wondered what the two of them were up to.  She took the thinning of the crowd to sidle up to Julia Scarlet. She reached into her pocket and slipped to woman the note she'd pilfered from the study. 

 

"Want to tell me a little more about this?" she asked.  "Or should I turn it over to the Tattooed Man?  He seem very interested in my whereabouts.  I'm sure he'd like to know that your creative relationship with Alfred wasn't as... um... rosy as it seemed."

[Voxr]

"Jesus!" Barnesworth exclaimed as Allard's voice snaked it's way into his ear. He jumped a little and quickly shoved his hand into his pocket. He turned around swiftly. "Oh, Mr. Allard. You startled me. Is there anything I can assist you in?" Allard stared into Barnesworth eye's God he's even more unnerving than the Tattooed fellow Barnesworth thought to himself. Allard's eyes moved to Barnesworth's pocket. Barnesworth shifted, a moment of clarity struck him as the man that stood before him looked at him.

 

"Fine." Barnesworth said pulling his hand out of his pocket. He revealed the pin. It's red gloss and gold star shined in the hall light. And however faint a hammer and sickle seemed to be in the center. "I found this in Master Salander's pocket. How such a thing got there I don't know. I imagine you would, wouldn't you?" Allard raised an eyebrow. Barnesworth loosened his collar. And puffed his chest however slight. The brandy had really made it's residency now.

 

"What? I've known the man for 20 years. Worked 15 of those for him. I may be just a butler, and while I don't know exactly what you two do or did together, I do know this: Salander never kept company with anyone that didn't suit a need. And I don't think you're just another business associate." Barnesworth felt a jolt of confidence I could do Grant's job Barnesworth flicked the pin to Allard. "Keep it, I have a dessert to attend to." Barnesworth sauntered down the hall into the kitchen. Keep it? Keep....it? And I flicked the pin. What the hell am I, a cowboy? Barnesworth replayed the last few moments back in his head. My collar? He sorted it out. He exhaled as he entered the kitchen. A faint waft of his breath lingered to his noise Ah, well guess that's why. He sat down on the stool "Is the pudding almost ready?" He asked frankly. 

 

"Almost sir. Is it really necessary ya think? I mean considerin' the events and such? " Said one of the cooks looking to Barnesworth.

 

Barnesworth shot a stern glance to the cook. "Just do it Edwards." He said firmly.

 

The butler looked at the ground and pondered. That Allard.... Something's off with him.....

[Uccio]

Allard Gazed after Barnesworth leaving the room, that was easy. He turned to look at the item, twiddling the little pin in his hand. I´t can´t be, he thought. After all this time? It can´t be! I made sure of it, one shot in the head, two in chest. Weights and into the canal. There is no way anyone could survive that. Is this why Sallander was murdered, am I next in line?

 

He stood there contemplating his situation for a while. Sallander had asked him here to take care a problem for him, that reporter woman. Could she be behind all this, did she have a connection to it? And what was even more important, did she know too much about him and Sallander?

 

Luc moved to the doorway leaning on it. He saw professor Polly talk to Ms. Scarlet. He preened his mustache in his thoughts watching the women, maybe he should finish what he was brought here for. Just to be sure.

[mybudgee]

The grandfather clock chimed loudly, interrupting Grant's thoughts. Midnight, and I am in this mess deeper than I ought to be, he lamented. 

 

"Despite the hour and the tragic circumstances, I must still serve the final course of the evening; Figgy pudding!" said Barnesworth in a phony excitement.

 

"Oh lovely..." bemused Professor Polly as she took a dish and tasted. "Not terrible." 

 

Grant shrugged. "I've never been much for figs," he said dryly. He took a small bite to be polite. Nodding to Barnesworth, he moved to the window. Off near the horizon he thought he saw a lantern, but it was difficult to say. The rain had begun to come down in sheets again. 

 

Allard began playing the piano in the next room. He was singing "Non, non Je ne Regrette Rien", a popular Parisian ballad. Grant began to hum the tune, when he noticed there was a note being ...skipped. E flat was being omitted. Odd.

 

At that moment, he felt a tickle. The back of his throat began to burn. He coughed, but the burn became a sear. "Hellp!" He gasped, but the words were a whisper. He felt light-headed, dropping to his knees. Barnesworth rushed to his side, as did several other guests.

 

"Get back, give him air you buzzards!" Hollered the butler. A few agonizingly long seconds passed, and Grant's throat miraculously opened up again. 

 

"Thank you Barnesworth," He rasped.  

 

"I had nothing to do with it, you must be allergic to figs, sir." Deduced Barnesworth. 

 

Grant collected himself and assured the crowd that he as alright. He slowly made his was to the powder room at the end of the hall to straighten his shirt & tie. He looked a mess, sweat dripping into his eyebrows, face pale, scalp glistening. 

 

"My God, get it together man!" He mumbled to himself. There was a breath, like a stifled chuckle. Grant flinched as the bathroom door creaked a bit.

That was when the garrote wire came down over his head. The last thing he felt was his killer's foot on the middle of his back as the life was wrenched from his body.

[Jock Cranley]

So, are you guys gonna start murdering each other, or what?

[mybudgee]

So, are you guys gonna start murdering each other, or what?

See: Thread title

[leighzard]

The professor took a bite of the pudding which Barnesworth had been so keen to serve.   "Not terrible," she comented.  Something different about it, almonds instead of walnuts?  An interesting twist.

 

Across the room the private investigator began coughing loudly. If he were any good, you'd think we'd be finished with this by now, Amanda thought uncharitably.  Suddenly the situation escalated and Barnesworth was fluttering around him worriedly.  The piano playing stopped abruptly.  Thank god for small mercies.  Amanda dropped her dessert on the table and hurried across the room.  The situation cleared up just as quickly as it had come about and Grant left the room, looking slightly shaken, but none the worse for wear.

 

Amanda Polly went back to her dessert plate.  She took another bite.  It was sweet and fruity.  The roasted apples that touched the side of the pans had carmelized and the dried figs reminded her of raisins.  Could've used more brandy though.  Something hard caught in her teeth.  She spit it out onto her fork.  An appleseed.  Barnesworth must have been hitting the booze hard if he'd let that slip through the kitchen.  Well the coughing fit had put her off of dessert for the most part anyway.  Figs were an awfully strange allergy to have.  You'd think he'd have encountered that before tonight.  She sat her plate down and looked at the sticky remains.  Why the butler was so eager to serve it, she couldn't imagine.
 

Suddenly it hit her.  She'd been thinking about the source of the poison all wrong!  Those Russian connections had nothing to do with it. 

 

She decided she'd better go find Grant and have a chat with him.  Find out more about that "fig allergy" of his.  She discreetly slipped down the hallway, passing Barnesworth coming out of the stairwell to the servants' quarters as she searched for Grant.  A door on the right was cracked just ahead.

 

"Mr. Grant?" she called.  She knocked hesitantly on the powder room door. "Dean, are you feeling better?"

 

No response.

 

She tried to open the door. but it was stuck on something.  Perhaps a rug or a towel trapped beneath.  She put her weight behind it as she pushed against the door again.  It budged.  Not enough to let her through, but just enough.

 

She screamed.

[Voxr]

Barnesworth passed Polly through the hallway, pretending to be preoccupied, he stopped three paces after he passed and turned to watch The Professor make her way down. He squinted a bit in thought, he felt a lump in his throat and his stomach tightened. Where are you going..........He turned back and walked to the service access through to the kitchen. He paced back and forth. Edwards looked at him, and nodded. Barnesworth didn't say a word or return a gesture. He straightened his cuffs and collar again. A fruitless effort, but the idea of putting something in order put him at ease. Barnesworth watched the kitchen staff nervously go about their business in the kitchen. Realizing how odd it was. A man is dead and they're carrying on like an other day. He decided he should say something. 

 

He cleared his throat loud enough to get the staff's attention "I've decided I should say something.....Uh, as you all know obviously by now we-" He was cut off by a most ghastly scream. Even his veins felt chilled. He immediately ran back up to the main hallway, before entering he stopped. Presentation Timothy, presentation. He stood straight and entered the hallway in a brisk, yet dignified, walk. He passed Scarlet making her way to the dinning room.

 

"Barnesworth, please find me a book of matches.... when you have a minute of course." She said calmly not detracting from her course to the dinning room.

 

Barnesworth barely caught her request and made no reply as he moved to where the other guest were. "What's the matter, what happened!?" He said as he pushed past Allard. Polly was pale and looked at the other guests then back to the door way. Barnesworth made his way to the door. He grabbed Polly softly by the arm and gently helped her up and out of the way of the door. "Step aside Miss Amanda, I'm sure everything is alright n-" His eyes caught a glimpse of what was on the other side of the door. "Dear god, is there no end to this?"

 

Mrs. Peacock looked at Barnesworth inquisitively as did Allard. Barnesworth looked back to the door and pushed it open as best he could without being brutish. The mass of Grant's body made a thud against the wood as Barnes opened it enough to get into the washroom. Mrs. Peacock gasped and Allard stood still, calm as ever, as Grant's body came into view. Barnesworth knelt down and with a slight trembling hand put his fingers to Grant's neck. No pulse. He felt a grove and dragged his hand back up. He stepped out and shut the door behind him quickly.

 

"Mr. Grant is dead. Strangled by the looks of it...." He said soberly.

 

"So....it seems our killer is still about." Allard said and turned walking down the hall.

 

Barnesworth looked at Mrs. Peacock. She turned, an expression of disbelief and despair on her face, walking back to the dining room. Barnesworth went next to Polly, still in shock. "How about some tea, Professor?" He offered his arm and walked her to the dining room table. "I'll bring some up." He went to the kitchen and came back placing the tea next to Polly as well as offering some to the other guests.

 

He walked over to Scarlet and handed her the matchbook. "Here you are madam." 

 

"Thank you, Barnes." She said in a tone of thought. Barnesworth didn't move right away. He leaned in just a bit, and spoke quiet like. It seemed to be unlike him.

 

"Secrets... My dear Ms. Scarlet, can be dangerous...." He said as his eyes moved down to a corner of parchment poking outside the border of Scarlet's pocket. She stared eyes unwavering, as Barnesworth stepped back and turned to the rest of the room. 

 

"Wait a moment.." He said looking around. "Where is our tattooed acquaintance?"  The guests looked around the dining room, and the imposing figure was nowhere to be found. The clock struck one as lightning flashed and thunder roared outside. The room fell silent.........

 

 

 

Spoiler

Sorry for it being so lengthy. I figured I'd make a larger post so it can last me a while lol.

[This_Punk86]

Everyone is dead, thy end.What you didnt know, it all took place on an island.its ok, now the polar bear will see you now.

[The Love Runner]

Everyone is dead, thy end.What you didnt know, it all took place on an island.its ok, now the polar bear will see you now.

It was a terrible dream filled with red, blue, and green color filters.

[Voxr]

It was a terrible dream filled with red, blue, and green color filters.

Don't worry the Extended Cut thread will come out in a few months. I just gotta finish up the slide show "cut scenes".

 

[Insert Ms. Scarlet deserved a better ending banner here]