Talk:The Mayoral Farewell Ball of 1895/@comment-213.213.157.254-20170626195149/@comment-213.213.157.254-20170626195816

1-33 Speak with Sinning Jenny:

London's Mayor is alone on the balcony, sipping a glass of wine as red as her habit.

A plan ahead

She smiles as you approach, placing her glass on the balustrade. "Hello, petal." She smiles warmly. She checks behind her, back into the crowds, where even now you can hear laughter and the sound of breaking glass. "I can barely remember what not being surrounded by a horde of people is like!" She laughs, "And soon I'll be back to the Parlour. And my school, of course. I seem to have acquired a taste for governance. " She winks extravagantly. "I couldn't fix everything. But I made something that will last."

1-33 Criticise Jenny's term of office

Sinning Jenny asks your opinion. You have not been impressed.

A year of frustration

She listens attentively to your speech, nodding her head at several junctures, and punctuating each pause with a sip of wine. When you finish, she smiles tentatively. "Thank you for being honest. I could be glib and suggest you vote for a better candidate this time, but I'd be doing you a disservice." She lets out a long, weary sigh. "It's been b___y hard, and yes, I favoured pragmatism at times. Most times. I did not challenge the Masters where I could avoid it. There are chains that cannot be broken. I did what I could. Others will have to do better." She walks away.

1-33 Praise Jenny's term of office.

Sinning Jenny asks your opinion. You are satisfied with London's first Mayor.

A year of consideration

She smiles, once, and takes your hand. "Thank you. There are chains that cannot be broken, and alliances once forged that become shackles. All was not always well. I've done as much as I dared." She laughs, faintly. "Which from me, is saying a lot. There's progressive education, I've made a space for the poor and unwanted to take part in civic life. I've shown you don't have to let public office tame you. I hope I've lit a torch for others to bear." She turns away, and returns to the party in her honour, a scarlet silhouette against the candlelight.

34-66 Speak to the Jovial Contrarian:

Jenny's rival in the Election of 1894. He campaigned partly out of spite and partly out of whimsy, and came close to victory. Currently, he is menacing the canapes.

The protest vote

He wheels his chair over to you as he sees you approach. "Dreadful party, isn't it?" He says cheerily, his fingers dancing over some sort of miniature pancake dripping with caviar. "Everybody clamouring over who gets to legitimise this sham of an election, when really the only decent thing would be to not vote at all!"

34-66 Speak to the Bishop of Southwark:

Jenny's thunderous rival for the Mayorship. He took defeat hard, but he is here now, drinking port and shouting convivially.

A bitter campaign

He turns around and roars amiably as you approach. "Marvellous evening eh? I'm very much looking forward to the new roster. Very much indeed." He waggles his eyebrows. "I don't suppose you'll give away how you're voting yet?" He laughs, upsetting a nearby sideboard, to the alarm of several footmen.