Family Secrets - RPLOG

From Rusted Promises
Jump to: navigation, search

Participants

Date

31/5/481

Log



Hugo Snowmane walks sedately along the halls of Longtail manor, leaning a bit on the ornate cane he carries, his over-long tail draped artfully over his arm, tufted end drooping like a fur stole. The white lion towers over the pair of guards sent to escort him to his meeting with Flora. He is dressed in an immaculately tailored suit, the black stark against the snowy white of his immaculate fur. At his throat he wears a silk cravat, pinned with a ruby brooch shaped like an open hand.

In traditionally Flora-like style, the High Lady has provided Hugo with precious little information on the meeting. And, unlike the House of old, the manor is quite a busy place now, with several beings milling about on the ground floor, on their way to the library or the basement, where the dungeons were once located... Still, everyone does seem to treat Hugo with the respect a Noble should expect, so it seems like the employees have at least been briefed on his arrival.

On the first floor, there are significantly fewer employees, with only one or two guards standing watch by the wings of the building... And then, of course, there is the ballroom, still decorated with that mixture of traditional treasures, and newer inventions... Along with, of course, the rows of portraits of various influential high lords and Ladies, including Reginald Longtail... And then, inbetween Reginald's painting and Flora's coloured-in photograph, there's a veiled piece of the wall, in front of which Flora's had a tea-table set up.

"Highlady," Hugo rumbles, giving a deep, formal bow, "While I am always glad of an invitation to walk these halls, I fear you have caught me unprepared with your summons." He looks around at the displayed heirlooms and inventions before turning his attention to Flora again. "To what do I owe the honor?"

"Flora has done some research, yes. Well... Flora had some research done. But we'll get to that, yes," the feline offers, before gesturing towards the table. "Does Uncle Hugo want some tea? Coffee? Flora's had some made, yes," the she-cat offers with a smile on her lips, a flick of her ears.

"Besides what Uncle Hugo's told Flora about... Lily. Are there other things to tell?" the she-cat asks, her tails twitching behind her.

Hugo seats himself. "Coffee," he says, "If you would be so kind?"

The Lion waits for coffee to be poured, stroking his mane thoughtfully. "Lily," he says, "I am not sure. What is it you want to know?"

Flora smiles, and nods towards one of the two porcelain teapots on the table, before pouring a cup for Hugo, and a cup of tea for herself. "Flora hopes the blend is acceptable, yes. The LongTech chef has been experimenting some, but since Flora sticks to tea... Flora is not a good judge, no."

"Anything. Family. Stories. Another pseudonym. Their whereabouts, if uncle Hugo knows."

"If it is stories you are after," Hugo says, sipping at his dark, bitter drink, "I am always happy to oblige, but listening to the reminiscences of an old man hardly requires the rigamarole of bringing me here by mysterious summons. I only ever called her Lily. She was beautiful, endlessly energetic, had a penchant for wandering and delighted in all forms of mischief. Her husband Marius doted on her, though I imagine that many men fell to her charms throughout the years. It would hardly have mattered to him." He considers Flora again. "What is this all about?" he asks.

"What about... Iris?" Flora offers for a moment, as her tail twitches behind her, and she waits for Hugo's answer. At the same time, she's happy to simply nurse her tea, taking small, almost ladylike sips. Almost. "And please. Anything to fill in Flora's knowledge, yes. Flora cannot lead a family if Flora does not know its members, good or bad, can Flora?"

Hugo sips genteely at his coffee. "After the coup, many Longtails took on different names," he says, "It would not surprise me to learn that she went by different names in different places. Though she was always fond of flowers." He looks around at the displayed treasures as he thinks. "She traveled quite often, she and Marius both. Sometimes together and sometimes apart. I did my best to stay in contact."

Flora pauses for a moment, one of her tails twitching behind her, as she listens to Fenris, and leans back in her seat lighty. "What about... Rosalyn?" the feline offers, before pausing to let the words sink in.


"Is Flora's mother still alive, Uncle Hugo?"

Hugo stops, hand halfway to his lips. He sets his cup down and seems about to say something, then he stops to think again.

"I. . . had not considered that possibility," he rumbles, "Though, as I have said before, the resemblance is uncanny."

The lion trails off into thoughtful silence for almost a full minute. If Lily was, in fact Flora's mother, and Reginald's daughter. . . well, the implacrions were farther reaching that Flora knew.

"But I can say with some confidence that neither Lily nor Rosalyn are still living."

Flora nods and sighs, seemingly ever so slightly defeated, though she doesn't spell it out, either. "Can Uncle Hugo tell Flora what happened, or?" the she-cat offers with a short glance away from the table, as she pauses to collect her thoughts.

Hugo considers Flora for a long time in uncomfortable silence.

At length, the lion rises and makes his way across the room to the veiled portrait, reaching out to push the curtain aside a bit with his cane, just to confirm what he expects is there.

"An accident," he finally says, "Both she and Marius together. They were traveling, I could not tell you where to, exactly, though they had recently come to visit me in the north. Their carriage was found smashed at the bottom of a cliff. There was some sort of animal attack and the driver lost control of the horses. . ."

Indeed, behind the curtain is that very same portrait of Lily, of Iris, Of Rosalyn Longtail. Once the heir to the Longtail fortune, only for her position to be taken away by society.

"Flora sees. Flora doesn't suppose that Uncle Hugo can point Flora to where they were buried? Even if Flora is unable to meet them, Flora might at least pay respects, yes?"

"There is something Uncle Hugo seems... Worried about?" the she-cat offers softly as she looks in the direction of the portrait, clearly labeled as Lady Rosalyn Longtail.

Hugo looks sadly at the painting for a long moment. "Marius Swiftpaw and his wife Lilliana are interred at the Snowmane holdings in Thera'Dor," he says, "Perhaps you would like to visit someday." He lets the cover fall over the painting and returns to the table.

"If I may be so bold," he says, easing into his seat, "Be sure to emphasize that it is only an artist's rendition of the lady Rosalyn. It is too late to put her out of the direct line now, I suppose."

"Flora spoke with Friend Fenris. According to him, there was no doubt," the she-cat offers to Hugo's request, her tails twitching ever so slightly, and the poor lion can almost see the gears turning in her head as she works to figure out what she's trying to figure out.

"However, given the history of the family, Flora understands if there are certain... Family-members that Uncle Hugo would like to keep in the dark," the cat offers, her brow raised slightly.

"Yes," Hugo affirms, "I am sure that Lily had good reason to hide her identity. And what we don't know can definitely hurt us." He frowns deeply into his cup, then looks up sharply.

"And who is this Fenris?" he asks, "What does he know about Lily?"

"Uncle Hugo mentioned a... Performer. Flora went out on a limb... That's how you say that, yes?" the she-cat offers with a smile, a flick of her ears. "Flora would, admittedly, like some more information on these... Unknowable people, yes. But Flora also understands that it would be... Problematic for uncle Hugo, and as Flora has said before... Flora will not force anyone to join the new House Longtail... Though at the same time, Flora fears this revelation might end up forcing uncle Hugo's hand at some point," the tigress offers with a sigh.

Hugo waves a well manicured hand dismissively. "You need not worry for me, young lady," he says, "I have had my fair share of run-ins with many factions of the scattered Longtail clan, some good, some. . . less good. But I would count it as a favor if you would not associate my name with that painting. And more, that you let people know that it was based on a cousin. I remain firm in my stance that I want nothing to do with the war that has devoured your house."

He sets down his cup with a firm click. "Though I believe I may want to meet this performer of yours. I imagine he must be an old man by now if he knew Lily in her wild youth."

"Flora would prefer not having to deal with that, either. However, unless Flora wants Douglas and Aurora to have to deal with it... Flora will have to," the tigress offers with a sigh, a shake of her head.

"Though... Flora will take Uncle Hugo up on that offer to... Visit, yes. Not now, but when Flora is in Thera'Dor again," the she-cat offers, looking out over the room. "Based on a cousin with a likeness to Lady Rosalyn. Flora understands, yes."

"My thanks, Highlady," Hugo says, stroking his thick mane, "Now, I have had my coffee, and you have given me something to think about. Is there anything else I can do for you, aside from rambling through the realm of memory?"

"Flora has nothing else, for now... Well... Flora has questions, but they won't be answered. Not here, at the very least," the she-cat offers as she leans back in her seat, and shaking her head.

"One. One question. Given that Uncle Hugo knew Flora's parents, it is not... Unlikely to think that he knows Flora's sister..."

The feline pauses for a moment, before shaking her head. "Trying to connect would be a... Mistake, yes?" the tigress asks, though it's clear she likely already knows the answer... Or at least assumes she does.

This conversation and its revelation have brought many things into perspective for Hugo. And given him many things to think about and more things to do.

"Yes," he rumbles and rises from his chair, retrieving his cane. "I fear that I must beg your leave, Highlady," the lion says, not even looking around for the waiting escorts, "This meeting has been. . . enlightening. But I fear that I have much work to do before the day is out."

"As Uncle Hugo wishes," the tigress offers, smiling, and gesturing for the guard to join him.