The Airs of London

From Fallen London Wiki
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Not every day in the Neath is the same.


See Category:The Airs of London for pages which require this quality (or specific levels of it), or click here to show them.

To view your current value of Airs of London (as it is not listed under the Myself tab), either hover over any action that requires it, or place it in your scrapbook on your profile's mantelpiece.

Ways to change your Airs[edit]

Notable Ranges of Airs of London[edit]

Levels
The Airs of London
0Out on the city's edge, zee-bats cry where black waves break on a black shore.
1 – 10A bat zips past, not far overhead.
11 – 13The softest of rains falls in the street: the cobbles glisten like fish-skin.
14 – 15In the street outside, fly-drivers squabble in a half-dozen different tongues: English, French, German...wait, is that Latin?
16 – 17A small child meditatively pings stones off a butcher's shop-window. Eventually the butcher emerges, cleaver in hand. The child disappears with remarkable speed.
18 – 19A shuttered black coach passes. The horses' hooves are muffled with sacking. The crowd falls silent. "The Empress," someone whispers.
20A devil lounges against a lamp-post, picking his teeth with a needle. He eyes you speculatively.
21 – 30Shadows lie still, here where there is no sun to move them. Sometimes they shiver in candle-light.
31 – 32A raven caws, coughs, and breaks into song. Something eighteenth-century? Is that a snatch of a Purcell sonata?
33 – 40The wall here is splotched with luxuriant russet fungus, like the fur of something mythical.
41 – 42Passers-by watch you with narrow eyes. What do they see?
43 – 44Someone speaks your name. But when you turn, there is only a mirror.
45 – 46High above, the false-stars glimmer. Did one of them - move?
47 – 50A window glows with the amber light of tallow-candles. Voices are raised in song.
51 – 60Today, something in the air makes the gas-lamps slink low, burn marsh-green.
61 – 62On the roof-tops at day's end, urchins whistle a tune from Mahogany Hall. One improvises lyrics that would make a Master of the Bazaar blush.
63 – 65Oof! That reek is a tannery. Hold your breath a moment.
66 – 68A glove-maker passes, holding his bag at arm's-length. The contents squirm.
69 – 70The cobbles are slippery with a thick black moss. Your footfalls bruise it, and a scent like fresh Surface rain rises.
71 – 72A cat's eyes glint on a high window-ledge. 'What a wretched day,' it remarks.
73Stray dogs fight over something in the gutter. A human hand? ...probably just a pork-chop.
74 – 75A barouche passes, drawn by a pair of perfectly matched greys. One passenger, a bearded chap in a top hat, throws his head back in laughter at something his bright-eyed female companion says.
76 – 80A scuffle! A pool of blood! A wild-eyed girl with a knife in either hand! The cry goes up, 'a Jack!' Is it a Jack? She's gone, regardless -
81 – 82The light from the false-stars clings to every surface like oil. This is the kind of afternoon when Londoners run mad, shrieking 'The sun! The sun!'
83A phaeton roars past! The crowd scatters, the horses roll their eyes desperately! Two tomb-colonists sit cackling in the back.
84 – 88Two costermongers stagger past, roaring drunk, their neckerchiefs alive with the colours of night.
89A portly man sits weeping in the road. "The Menagerie," he sobs, "the Roses. They can no longer grow." A hackney carriage veers round him: "Honey-mazed," the driver sneers.
90A rat runs along an iron railing, leaping each spike like an acrobat. "For the Scuttering Company!" he shrills, and fires his miniature pistol. A raven drops dead. The rat is gone.
91Today, water has a metallic taste. It generally does. But is this a different metal? Copper? Silver?
92A cry goes up: "Thief!" A pale young woman hurdles a barrel and is gone into the endless night.
93A church bell tolls.
94Drizzle is falling all around, like slow glass, or tears.
95A huddled bundle lies in the gutter. Movement squirms beneath a blanket. Rats? Spiders? Black-clad, gloved, masked Special Constables lift it to the back of a cart, and you see no more.
96The wind toys with paper-scraps in the gutter.
97A governess passes with a child on a leash. No! No, only a young woman and a little dog.
98A beetle the size of a boot sits atop a tar-barrel, nonchalantly twiddling its antennae.
99A scowling boy distributes hand-bills. "MAHOGANY HALL: TONIGHT", they read. "HEPHAESTA." "M. PLEAT."
100All shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.

Q: How do I unveil my Airs of London level?
A: Hover over the airs requirement of an action that requires a specific level of it. Adding one to your plans will let you see it even if it's unavailable.