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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by rivaan
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Priscilla Harker



Location: Main Deck(Open Air Lounge)
Skills: N/a




Mosi was a little perplexed by the woman. She was so... calm about everything. This statuesque demeanor was making her curiosity experience a major increase here. 'Just who was that woman?' Mosi thought, but she wasn't thinking about the name, the woman's character and possible background were the points of interest here! And Mosi needed a major interest or five to distract herself from the fact she didn't get to hang with with that feisty redhead more.

"It's not that I'm completely uninterested in it, but to be exact I'm not interested in watching them splash in the water. I'm curious who it is and how the hell they ended up down in the water to begin with. Heh." She smiled." I think those questions are much more important and deserve more attention. And maybe a joke or two on their expense. Besides if someone actually drowned, I'm pretty sure people will be talking about it by now. Then it would have been a murder mystery, which will be way more interesting." Mosi explained with a huge grin, throwing a look at the woman again.

"Anyway, Miss Bella, could I ask you from where you hail from?" She asked, her fingers now adjusting folds of her sleeves. She should have brought her hat..." I'm personally from the States, which probably is apparent from my accent, but never hurts to introduce one self when asking questions first."
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Nallore
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Nallore RPG's Grope Master & Taco Hunter. :P

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Lauren Ridgeway


Location: The Ferry - Cargo
Skills: N/A





"I managed to get you some dry clothes from my room, we are about the same size as well, so you are certainly more than welcome to wear something of mine. I didn't get to many clothes from your room, being a scene and all." Lauren said towards Vera and gave her friend a slight smile, as she looked towards Mahendra as he answered her. She didn't really see the man as a clumsy person at all which was a bit weird for her to hear him say. But then again she had only known him for a very short time now as well, but it was good to see that he was alright and not injured. "Glad that you are safe." Lauren said towards Mahendra as she ran a hand through her hair, turning her attention over towards J.C.

"I'm Lauren by the way it's nice to meet you." Lauren said as she gave J.C. a friendly smile as she extended her hand towards him, and nodded a bit at his suggestion. They did really need to get out of the area, and she knew that Vera was really freezing in her clothes as well. "Lets go and head back up then." Lauren said, as she was about to turn around hearing J.C. call out to both Gene and the Lord Major as well.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by ONL
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ONL Occasional Private Dick

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Mahendra Huq Zalil




Location: Cargo Deck
Skills: N/A



It appeared that everyone seemed shaken, a tid wet and cold, but all in all alive and well. The gift of life was one dearly appriciated after such an endeavour, after all the death that the Fellowship had been befallen back in Cairo not that long ago. Old lady Neema and the Norwegian journalist, Haakon, not to mention Peter Keystone. Mahendra gave a thankful look to everyone present in the cargo hold, especially Lauren as she was thankful that he was safe. "Me too, Lauren, me too. Yes, relocating to our personal quarters would be better than simply dripping here." Mahendra said back to Lauren, giving her yet another of an already long line of tired smiles, before he did something he hadn't done since England.

Mahendra sneezed quite audiable. "I'm...terribly sorry about this." He was not used to it.

With the arrival of the Lord Major and George's sister, Gene, Mahendra too stood up like Vera had and attempted to stand as proper and proud as he felt needed around the honourable Lord Major. He had been a soldier of the Empire after all, and proper soldiers had dealt with worse things than a little water. "Lord Major, Sir." Mahendra adressed him, though not continuing as the cold shivering recommenced. He refused to let go of the cloth clad around his soaking wet clothes, and hoped that they soon could be honourable given the permission to go to their rooms. He really needed to change.


Richard Barker




Location: Main Deck (Open Air Lounge)
Skills:Observation, People-reading, Deduction



"Dining room. Great." Richard's words seemed flat and unremarkable, like he was indifferent to the plan Faye had just laid out for them. Meeting in the morning in the dining room was the clear-cut decision of where to meet, as they both knew very well where it was and a good breakfast was normally a good thing. Except that Richard wasn't a breakfast person. He just didn't like eating that early in the morning, it made his stomach feel all funny. Had been like that for a few years now, but with the holes in his pockets he wasn't a man to think too highly of another meal to pay for. But the coffee sounded okay enough he guessed. "Dining room, tomorrow morning. Sounds like a plan."

Richard had gotten his stiff drink eventually, a fairly average glass of whiskey with two ice cubes. Not that the ice had much time to melt, as Richard grabbed the glass and started drinking while looking around the Open Air Lounge. It was an old habit that old dogs rarely stopped doing, like peeing the carpet. But the question of what had happened with the Olympic trio of Egyptian swimmers 1924 still posed itself in the back of his mind, so he kept looking.

He didn't see much though, nothing stood out to him or caught his attention. It was like sitting at a cafĂŠ on a busy street, looking out the window as you drank an overly-priced cup of cofee; plenty to see, nothing that made itself apparent to him. Just rows upon rows of anonymous faces floating past your window. But that was what bothered him; this wasn't a busy street in a million city, this was a steamboat on a river, nowhere for people to come or leave. So where was everyone he'd seen? The man he noticed boarding the boat, Franklin, the fella talking with Faye, everyone? This didn't sit right with him. "Say Faye, who was that drunkard you talked with earlier? Did he scram when those people fell overboard or what?"
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Sigil
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Sigil Literary Hatchetman

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Reginald Keystone



Location: The Ferry (Main Deck -> Lower Deck -> Cargo)
Skills: N/A




Still in steady motion for the next flight of stairs, Reginald tried to answer the question posed by the younger Miss Benaszewski as best he could. While the letter of what she was saying seemed tinged with disrespect, he could not blame the thought. It was one he had mulled around in his own brain some many times, himself. The lady was prone to her own brand of peril, and there was no getting around this. "Madame, Lady Munn has her own set of challenges, as do we all. I prefer to concentrate on the pure decency of heart the woman possesses, which stacks neatly alongside her formidable intellect."

The Lord Major had to pause for just a moment as he showed his ticket yet again, allowing him continued access to the deck below. "But to be perfectly honest, yes. All the same, let us maintain propriety. They have both been through a shock." He continued along his way, looking about until he remembered where the descent to Cargo was located. "Aha, here we are..."

He was delighted to see that a fair amount of his Fellowship was already below, waiting upon the wet and worn out persons who had gone for their involuntary swim. But first, "Lady Munn! Mr. Zalil! It is highly, highly fortuitous to see that you both are in good health and spirits! I do not know what I may do to assist; you have but to name. Please, please do not delay seeing to yourselves on my account. I am here to serve."

Turning to the heroes of the occasion, he continued, "Thank you for your efforts, Mr. Benaszewski. Indeed, i should wish to buy you a scotch later. And you..." he stressed, looking to the man who had jumped in to save Mahendra and, as it turned out, assisted Vera as well, "...are as impressively skilled as you are impulsive, sir! My thanks for seeing to the safety of these fine people! But quickly now, before I hear you speak; the Captain and I have a suspicion... You wouldn't by chance be American, now would you sir? There's a drink in it for you either way, of course." Reginald was bubbly with relief, and grateful that his Fellowship hadn't come to more serious harm. It showed in the jovial manner of the occasionally stereotypically old-fashioned British officer.



Haring Reddish



Location: The Ferry (Elite Deck, Josephine's Stateroom)
Skills: N/A




At first, Haring was a little uncomfortable with the situation. He was a man who had been in some of the most harrowing and anxiety-filled years that could be had by a grunt soldier, where it paid to shut down one's ability to emote for fear of the numbing horror and loss moving one to do something foolish. Or worse, detrimental to those around you who were going through the same hell. It was even expected that the greener men would succumb to these emotions at first, and to give them space until they grew a callous over their feelings. It was how you lived to see another day. No shame in it, but it was to be avoided. Things were different now. He was no longer living the life of a front line soldier stuck in a ditch squaring off against the enemy. One might say very accurately that he lived in much more favorable conditions, and now working as the batman to a living legend. Still, the habits of a line soldier were hard to break. Perhaps this was why he was uncomfortable when Josephine began to weep in earnest.

The soldierly matter of propriety was to be taken into consideration, not to mention the fact that his own words had been questionable just earlier. And now he stood in a private stateroom, alone with an unmarried woman with whom he was supposed to be conducting a report. He was a man of duty before everything else. Professional in demeanor. Reddish didn't know what to do here.

A few seconds passed as he stood there in indecision while Josephine expressed her feelings of loss and anger. If he continued to do nothing, he would be considered a cad. Perhaps he even was, but that was not the issue. This was not about him. He could not be a soldier and get involved, and he could not be a gentleman and not. The young lady had been nice to him when she had no reason to be. Accommodating when it wasn't necessary. Reddish made his choice. He quietly shut and slipped closed the lock to the stateroom door.

Holding his long bayonet to the seam of his trousers, Haring carefully sat upon the bed next to Josephine and wrapped his arms around her. "Miss Clarke?" he whispered with lingering uncertainty, "I mean nothing untoward by this. But you take your moment and let it all tumble out. I shall not tell a soul, I promise. If you should like for me to shut my eyes, I will do just that as well."

"The boat does not dock for two more days, Miss Clarke. We've time between now and then for the Captain's men to search this place from bow to stern, top to bottom. And if we find the blackguards that did this before they do, I shall try to arrange it that you have the first run at them. Right now, I've got you. You go ahead and cry. No one else needs to know."
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by FantasyChic
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Josephine Clark

Location: Elite Deck (Josephine's Room)
Skills: N/A


Josephine felt the warmth surround her as Reddish put his arms around her. Were it any other occurrence, she may have stopped this advance on her person. She may have gotten upset or played it off. But now she welcomed it. She had been invaded. While she was sure the value of the watch amounted to almost nothing monetarily, and whatever was taken or destroyed in Lady Munn's invasion was worth more, it was more of a personal nature. A personal attack against her. It was almost like they knew exactly what it would be to hurt her the most.

She took a minute before she slipped into Reddish's embrace. "I am done being sad. I am angry. Furious! I will see whoever did this pay. They knew exactly what to take to hurt me the most and I will not rest until that watch is found. We have precious little time so I will have to make the most of it. I know you are busy with your own things, darling, so I will not burden you with this. I should inform Lady Munn that I was robbed as well. Maybe tomorrow we can come together to collect what was taken and start investigating."

She didn't say it out loud, but she didn't want Reddish to leave just yet. He provided a warm comfort she found relaxing. And she needed it in the worst way.



Faye Masterson

Location:Open Air Lounge
Skills: N/A


Faye was about ready to call it a night. The day had passed along rather drearily until the people fell overboard. Apart from Richard catching on fire multiple times it was uneventful. She would rather not remember the almost one-sided conversation she held with the drunk man, but Richard had to bring it up. "Truth be told I didn't catch his name. He kept talking about being pushed against a wall and how the past is the past. Something was definitely up with him but then we heard the news about the people overboard and he got up. That's how I made it to the deck."

Faye yawned, feeling more tired now. "I am tired now, shall we call it a night? I doubt much else will be accomplished tonight. Tomorrow is another day and I think we will fare better in looking into matters. For all we know, more may come up tomorrow. Just stay away from fire for the rest of the night. We don't need the ship cominmg up in flames." Faye gave Richard a gentle pat on the shoulder to show she meant no harm. It was fun to tease him.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Morose
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Morose ✨Krakoan Princess✨

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Nora Kingston


Location: The Ferry - Cargo
Skills: N/A
Nora nodded at Lady Munn. She could imagine that Vera felt extremely cold now. The dip into the Nile must have felt as if it penetrated her bones and she then mused that the slightest breeze would only increase the chill that the poor Lady Munn had to contend with. She heard one of the men suggest that they get people upstairs and Nora nodded slightly. It couldn't be good for anyone's health to be down there. "Here, please allow us to help you up to your quarters, Lady Munn," Nora then suggested, offering Vera an arm for support. She knew that Vera was capable of walking on her own, but after the entire debacle she wanted to be able to help her friend not trip over her own feet this time.

A second dip in the Nile would hardly be as pleasant as the first one had been, after all. Mahendra seemed to be fine as well, which was a relief to Nora. Her mind flashed towards his brand and she grimaced slightly. The idea of exposing that flesh to the filth of the Nile did not seem to be ideal at all to her. Her head then turned sharply towards the Lord Major, as he addressed the stranger and inquired after his nationality. Lady Munn could fall ill and this was what he was concerned about? Nora had as unfavorable opinion of Americans as most Brits did, yet she still thought that ensuring Lady Munn - and Mahendra too - were able to get dry and have a proper change of clothing was the priority here.

Gene Benaszewski


Location: The Ferry - Second Deck -> Lower Deck -> Cargo
Skills: N/A
Gene rolled her eyes slightly at the Lord Major's answer. At the very least, he had managed to be honest at the end, admitting that Vera always was falling over just about everything there was to trip over. It made her really wonder how she was able to get any work done at all - wouldn't she just trip and break everything? Send all of the notes and papers flying? However, it once more reminded Gene of her theory as to why George was so taken with her - Lady Munn was a creature that he could protect and serve. It probably gave him a sense of purpose and pride.

However, Gene couldn't help herself but start to laugh at J.C.'s joke. "Oh that's just precious," she said, cackling, as she wiped away a tear from her eyes. For some reason, the young American found it to be the height of humor and it took Gene a few deep breaths in order to stop laughing at it. Shaking her head slightly, she let out once last giggle as she then looked at her brother properly. "Of course he's American," Gene said, turning to look at the Lord Major again.

"If he was British, Vera would still be swimming in the Nile," she finished with a smirk. She was having a lot of fun messing with the Lord Major like this. She wondered if his face could turn red enough that his head would pop off - and if it was possible, she fully intended on seeing it happen during this ferry ride.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Lady Absinthia
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Lady Absinthia ⚘ Blossoming ⚘

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Deeper Than The Sands

Date: October 5th, 1924



Reminders: Same reminders but hey, we all forget shit - If you are changing decks at anytime while we are on the boat - roll in chat before you post. If you roll a 1, 2, 3, 4 or 5 - drop me a line because your ticket is missing. If you roll a 6 though 20, you have your ticket and can proceed without issue.

Same goes with leaving and returning to your characters room. If you enter your room, drop a roll in chat. 1, 2, or 3 drop me a line before posting. If you roll a 4-20 everything is fine and you can proceed witho-ut issue.

Please remember to do this every time you change decks and every time you enter your rooms.

Check the maps to make sure you are placing your location as the correct one.

Also remember - If you are Elite you can do to any deck. If you are Secondary you can go anywhere but Elite unless you are on record as working for someone with an Elite ticket. If you are Lower Deck, you can only enter Lower or Main deck.

All Aboard: The woman glanced out of the corner of her eye towards Mosi. "Interesting that you should say that. A murder mystery. Most would assume someone just fell over." She looked back in front of her, taking her eyes off the woman. "That begs the question. Do you wish it so because your life is lacking excitement or did you see or do something that would cause it to be a murder." While it was formed as a sentence it came out as a statement. Rising from her place she turned and stepped away from her chair. "Oh no where you would have heard from. Good evening," she said with a slight tug at the corner of her mouth as she laced her fingers together before her. There was a graceful nod of her head before she started to make her way out of the open air lounge and back towards the stairs and information area.

"Wonderful, thank you," Vera said through her chattering teeth. She was getting colder by the minute even if she was out of the water now. J.C. in the meantime reached out and shook Laurens hand, giving her a bit of a nod in the process before taking a step back. There was more coming that way, it seemed that knew the group. Or at least knew the two that fell into the water. George stayed close to Vera, keeping a hand on her elbow and one around her waist. Last thing she needed was to take another tumble and going by the last few days she had a bad habit of taking them rather frequently.

J.C. laughed and nodded. "Yeah, I am but don't hold that against me," he said to the Lord Major before sticking out his hand to the man. "Least I ain't Belgium." One could see George crack the barest of smiles. Looking at George, he slicked his hair back. "Gonna introduce me Georgie Boy?" The smile fell and George cleared his rough throat, nodding a bit.

"MMmm this is the Lord Major Keystone, and mmmm my sister Gene."

J.C. quirked a brow as he looked towards George and then over to the two. "Reeeaaallly?" he asked a bit surprised it seemed. Then he chuckled. "Well ain't that some shit." Rubbing the back of his neck he shrugged before extending his hand to the Lord Major and then to Gene in turn. "Nice to meet ya both. Names J.C., heard a lot about you Gene from Georgie Boy here. He failed to mention you got all the looks in the family." There was a bit of a wink there. "I'll take ya up on that drink Sir."

"Mmm, don't you mmm want to change?" George asked.

"Hell this ain't bad, nothing compared to the trenches. Nothing a shot or two won't cure. That is if I ain't imposing on you kids and butting in," he chuckled as he stood there.

Vera looked over to Nora, too cold to really be listening and nodding. She moved slightly to take Nora's arm. As George felt her start to pull away he slipped down and before Vera knew it she was cradled in his arms and lifted off the ground. "Oh my!" she said between chattering teeth. "I can walk George," she insisted but he made no move to put her down.

"Mmm, not risking another fall mmm," he said before looking at Lauren and Nora. "Mmm, please lead the way and mmm clear path," he asked of them as he motioned towards the stairs. Vera was too cold to protest and knew he was right. The way things were going, as soon as she put her foot on a step she would trip and fall and break her neck. Even at the best of times she was clumsy, dripping wet and cold she would either kill herself or somehow sink the bloody ship.

Now that everyone was back on deck the boat was back headed in the right direction and people were starting to turn back in. The excitement was over for now but it was sure to be talk come morning. Lack of reality TV and all that back then, lol
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by rivaan
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Priscilla Harker



Location: Main Deck(Open Air Lounge)
Skills: Great Observation




“Most will indeed, but that's boring.” She nodded and shrugged.” Don't take me wrong, I have plenty excitement in my life, but a few more are always welcomed.” Mosi added with a calm happy smile.” As for stuff to see, nothing really, I just heard the splash when they fell. Was just theorizing it on which will be the more interesting story really. It would make a fine novel, would it not?” Was her explanation of her statement.

Mosi saw that the woman was leaving as she was given a nod of farewell and the like.” Good evening to you too, Miss.” Mosi replied with a nod of her own as she studied the woman who was just moving away from her. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Still she kept her eyes trailing her as the other left away in the direction of the stairs. Finally Mosi sighed as she leaned back in the chair. Now alone once more, her mind wandered back to the feisty redhead back in Cairo.

She was going to be returning to Cairo one day after this expedition to a dig or whatever it was, was over. If she survived that is... like... there was a death at the museum, then the Neema woman was torched, now someone fell overboard. It was like accidents always happened around this group she was with now. Maybe it was just bad luck... Maybe not. It certainly was a curious mystery anyways and she wanted the answer. Her fingers rubbed her stomach through the cloth.

“It was worth coming here...” She mumbled as she stood up and headed for the stairs too. Maybe this time she was going to get that sleep.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Nallore
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Nallore RPG's Grope Master & Taco Hunter. :P

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Lauren Ridgeway


Location: The Ferry - Cargo -> Lower Deck -> Main Deck
Skills: N/A





Lauren looked between JC and George and assumed that the two of them knew each other pretty well, as Lauren turned seeing both the Lord Major and Gene coming over. "Hello again." Lauren said towards them, as she stood there for a moment before she looked over her shoulder as Vera was about to get ready and follow when George lifted Vera up easily. Lauren smiled a little bit before looking at the others, before waving them to follow her. "Follow me then." Lauren said, as she thought for a moment about Mahendra feeling bad that he had fallen off of the ship and he was chattering cold as well.

"If you need something Mahendra I can get it for you." Lauren offered him, as she left the cargo hold, and pulled out her ticket and showed it to the guards outside of the cargo hold. She then proceeded to go up the next flight of stairs, and made it back to the main deck now. She wasn't going to really push why Mahendra fell off of the boat for, at least not with the others that were around anyway. "So how do you two know each other from the war right?" Lauren asked both JC and George as well, she was curious since they seemed to know one another very well.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by ONL
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Mahendra Huq Zalil




Location: Cargo Deck -> Lower Deck -> Main Deck (Stairs)
Skills: N/A



Mahendra was more than ready to vacate the Cargo Deck and move back up to his own room, but the Bengali waited patiently - albit shivering and colder by the minute - like the gentleman he was for the introductions between J.C. and the other members of the Fellowship to be done with. He'd live, this was but a scratch. Perhaps more in his honour than anything, but he'd live through the cold. Sneezing, but alive. Mahehdra watched as George scooped up the always clumsy Vera and began to carry her out of the Cargo Deck, and followed behind Lauren as she led the way.

With shivering, but dry hands, Mahendra pulled out his soaking wet ticket for inspection as they went from Cargo to Lower Deck. "That is ve-ve-very kind of you, Lauren, bu-bu-but I am sure I will manage. Nothing a good cha-cha-change of clothes cannot fix." Mahendra said back to Lauren as she offered to help him, giving her a shivering smile so that his teeth shivered too. But as they came to the stairs leading from the Lower Deck up to the Main Deck, Mahendra knew something was wrong. When he lifted his hand to give his ticket to the crew, only a shaking and blue hand appeared before them. Mahendra looked in confusion at his hand, then up at the crewmember, back at his hand and behind him. His ticket was gone!

"I'm terribly sorry, my good man, bu-bu-but I must have lost my ticket somewhere!" Mahendra tried to explain, but it appeared as it was not needed. The wet trail of dripping water proved enough explaination about the night's events, and Mahendra was told that he'd be led back to his deck and room by the crew. Mahendra gave the crewmember a kind smile and a half-bow, not having the energy to finish it. "I am looking forward to a good warm sleep tonight..."


Richard Barker




Location: Main Deck (Open Air Lounge) -> Lower Deck (Richard's quarters)
Skills: N/A



Richard took the last contents of his glass of booze in one quick motion, feeling the buring liquid flow down his throat and warming him in a way only scotch or a woman could, as of lately only the first. The man Faye described could have been on a really, really bad day, but nonetheless it didn't sound like anything useful to the hard-boiled detective who finished his drink. "Sounds like a man with a lot of baggage, but then who doesn't?" Richard commented Faye, putting down the glass and giving the bartender what he owed. "Yeah better hit the hay. It's already been a long day for two detectives in deep water."

Richard stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray and got off his chair just in time to hear Faye's once again hillarious 'jokes'. But the gentle tap on his shoulder told him otherwise, and the cut-nosed Yankee couldn't help but give her a small smile and a tap on her shoulder back. "You're not too bad, Faye. No way in Hell funny, but you're not bad. Good night." Richard said surprisingly soft to Faye, flicking off the remaining ash on his cigarette and pocketing it for later use. He walked from the bar-area, over to the stairs with his ticket ready, and was allowed down into the Lower Decks.

Soon Richard had come to his personal quarters, locked himself in and standing alone in his room. Hadn't been too long since he had left after changing out his pants, which still lay carelessly on the bed. Throwing his hat onto his suitcase and sitting down on the chair, he tossed the ruined pair of pants into the suitcase as well before untying his shoes. And his feet were stinking, thanks to the sweltering heat of Egypt. Not that he cared, he wasn't too good of a smeller with the bandage still wrapped around his nose, and so he pulled off his socks as well, his jacket and emptied his pockets before layind down in bed. It was a bed, and that was good enough for Richard.

Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Sigil
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Reginald Keystone



Location: The Ferry (Cargo -> Lower Deck -> Main Deck)
Skills: N/A




There was a moment of strange objectivity as Reginald turned to Gene. He had a curious look to his face; not a look that was, in and of itself a curiosity, but one that implied a sense of curiousness to the man. He frowned and shook his head, trying not to dwell upon the negativity that she was attempting to shovel upon the situation. Another item that gave him pause was that George hadn't said a single word, nor offered a facial expression that he had noticed about his sister's commentary. He must be accustomed to it, by this point, in the same way that the Lord Major had simply grown accustomed to the antics of his Corporal. Annoying but ultimately harmless.

He accepted the handshake of the young American, answering his minor piece of self-depreciation with something more positive. "No no, the pleasure is mine Mr. um, Mr. 'C'. And never you mind, I've simply the utmost for the Colonials, you see. Most of them, at any rate. Impulsive lot. Garrulous at times. But a fine people all in all. I owe you a debt, sir, in the form of fine whisky. If you and your fellow doughboy, Mr. Benaszewski, would be as kind as to join, I should like to have us military men toast to our fortunes." He looked to the retreating form of Mahendra, "I believe that he served in our eastern divisions, once upon a time..."

He shook his head, wondering how many of the men in or around the Fellowship had military backgrounds. It would make sense; after the Great War, foreigners (which included himself) who were acclimated to the region and had passable grasp on culture and language, let alone wanted to be there on an extended basis came there originally because of armed service to their countries. The Americans and the long reach of the British Empire surely made up a good amount of those kids of people. And the French, but he preferred not to dwell upon them too much.

Further thought in the short couple of seconds he devoted to it had him realizing that the high majority of the women in their Fellowship were of the intellectual sort, which also made sense for foreign women in the region. Military men, intellectual women. There seemed a predetermined division of tasks in that combination. He shrugged it off, confident that the group would continue to operate with the relative organization that it had thusfar, where they trusted the resources and abilities of the individual's areas of expertise as it came up, regardless of other factors present. It worked for them. "Well, nightcaps from my personal reserve - George, J.C. - I shall be in my Stateroom." The point for his presence was pretty moot, as the men already there had seen to the safety of his people. He could at least express his gratitude.

Reginald kept up with the rest of the group leaving Cargo, attentive to any further pieces of dialogue that required his attention. He showed his ticket again as needed, ascended the stairs that too him closer to his own quarters. He was eager to have the day finished now that everyone was accounted for, and likewise eager to begin the next day addressing their issues of theft and entry.



Haring Reddish



Location: The Ferry (Elite Deck, Josephine's Stateroom)
Skills: N/A




Reddish tensed a little as Josephine returned his physical expression of comfort. He hadn't not been expecting it, though it was still a bit surprising. After all, she was a Name. Reddish was a soldier, and something of a servant at that. Hell, he was still amazed that she acquiesced to taking a walk with him, or posing for a picture. Still, the tiniest bit of guilt was nagging at him. She was somewhat emotionally compromised, and while his intentions were, at the moment, purely supportive, he felt like he might be inadvertently taking advantage somehow. The feeling intensified as, in their closeness, Reddish caught the scent of the young woman's hair.

"Oh absolutely, Miss Clarke." he agreed with hushed voice, relaxing the pressure of his arms about her but keeping hold of her figure. "You've every right to be angry, of course. Now, you mustn't put a thought into what burdens me, ma'am. Not at all. My affairs would have us checking my quarters below, and I can assure you that most anything that would have been taken from there can be replaced from general inventory in Cargo." It wasn't an entirely true statement, he did have one thing of a personal nature in his quarters, be it a trifle of an object. But the rest of his belongings were military issue. Or clothes, with minimal civilian attire.

Going out on a limb, he reasoned, "I'd rather not leave you to your lonesome in a room that had been recently burgled, ma'am, unless you tell me directly to sod off. Nor do I wish to do anything that puts me in a state of impropriety, especially with someone such as yourself. So I am perfectly content to submit myself to your wishes, even if it means we sit right here for the foreseeable evening whilst you take rest upon my shoulder. I am at your order, Miss Clarke."

Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by FantasyChic
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Josephine Clark

Location: Elite Deck (Josephine's Room)
Skills: N/A


On the edge of her bed, clutching to a man she had only just met, this wouldn't be an abnormal experience for her. If she were being honest with herself, it was part of the very reason she was in Egypt to begin with. This was different though, because she knew she was leading Reddish on and knew the end result would be what she craved, but it would only hurt the man who seemed to show genuine affection for her. It wasn't something she was used to. The men she came across wanted few things she could offer, but it was never just her company, her opinion, her view on wines or the scenery.

No she knew if she asked Reddish to stay it would end up hurting the both of them. She would move on, she always had, but he may not recover as well or as quickly. She still felt anger and sadness, but they were slowly passing too. Now she was just tired. Exhausted from the day's events. Darling, you being here has helped, but I think I would like to be alone now. I am very tired from everything that has happened. I won't ask you to return to your room if you don't feel the need, but I would like to rest."



Faye Masterson

Location:Open Air Lounge -> Lower Level (Faye's Room)
Skills: N/A


Faye felt a connection to Richard then and there. The two of them were partners and they had to look out for one another. She had a feeling (maybe a premonition) that this adventure would only get crazier from here and she knew if Richard went at it alone, with his unbelieving soul, he may be in danger. She needed him, he needed her. That was all there was to it really.

She bid Richard a goodnight as they made their way down to the lower level. Thankfully, she had her ticket with her. She entered her room, as cramped as one would expect, but it would serve her well for the night. She got undressed ad ready for sleep, eager for tomorrow to come quickly. She made a mental checklist of things to look into. The man from the other night needed looking into. The three going overboard? Possibly.

It was definitely not going to be boring.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by rivaan
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Priscilla Harker



Location: Main Deck(Open Air Lounge-> Stairs to second Deck)->Second Deck(Stairs)
Skills: N/A




Luckily for Priscilla, the stairs really weren't far off and with a smile on her face, a tune in her heart and a ticket in her arm, she walked into the stairs only to notice a bunch of familiar faces there." Good evening." She greeted those she recogmizrd. What was most important of this incredibly coincidental meeting was the fact some of them appeared quite wet. Well soaking really, given the rather obvious event that transpired, earlier, Mosi raised an eye brow as she saw Mahendra." Hey, Mahendra, don't tell me you were the one who fell in the water?" She asked as she showed her ticket for verification and got onto the staircase.

"Well, you got to tell me how the hell you managed to do that later." She added with a smile." Better get some good rest tonight. Call if ya need something. I will help if I can." Mosi gave him a promise of aid cause REALLY wanted to hear how he got from the boat into the water. The earlier conversation with the Bella woman was still fresh in her mind and she really wanted to see if it was him butterlegging his way over the rails or someone gave him a little bit of a helping hand." Well I'm going ahead, have a nice evening you all." She smiled and bolted up the stairs like a cat.

As soon as she was on the second deck, she made a sharp turn and headed towards her room. Night was long, it was time to return to the room and figure what to do tomorrow. Maybe try drawing... until she falls asleep.

Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Lady Absinthia
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Deeper Than The Sands

Date: October 5th, 1924


Change: Alright, let's wrap it up for the day and move forward. Get your characters to their rooms and settled in this round if you would. We can assume that all reports are filed with missing items, people breaking into the rooms, and the characters know the drill now about having tickets and showing them, not to mention now the staff has seen your faces time and time again going from one floor to the other. Vera, Mahendra, and J.C. will likely never be forgotten thanks to that little overboard scene. No more need to roll for deck changes or room checks for now. (I will do that behind the scenes when needed and drop you an update via PM or in IC if it comes up.)

Check the maps to make sure you are placing your location as the correct one! Your location, whatever it is in the post, will be ~assumed wrong~ if it doesn't match the header. Remember, that starting and ending location need to be in your post for clarity purposes.

All Aboard: George looked over towards J.C. and let the man without the mask and arms full of Vera do the talking. George was trying to keep his wits about him with Vera in his arms, that woman seemed to be able to sink a ship just by walking. He was going to be careful and stay focused. It was probably for the best as things were not going well for the librarian, another tumble and things could get bad. Granted, even if she did seem to be a walking calamity she did also seem to have hell of luck getting out of it alive. Maybe it all balanced out in the even.

J.C. shook his head. "Nah, actually met him after the war," he said thinking back on it. George cast a glance towards J.C. and nodded a bit before heading up the stairs. George had left home because he didn't want his sister to be his nursemaid. "Injuries and Veterans hospitals make for interesting conversations." Turning a glance in the Lord Majors direction he nodded. "Sounds like the cat's pajama's," he said towards the Lord Major. There seemed to be a woman in passing that knew Mahendra. J.C. chuckled a bit. "Yeah I might want to hear how you got into the water myself," he said before keeping up with George, trying to keep the waters parted as it was so he didn't have more to deal with.

George got Vera back to Lauren's room and waited for her to get the door open. Once it was he got her inside and left her for Lauren and Gene to see to. "MMmmm will be back to retrieve mmm you all for breakfast mmm. Good Night," he said giving a slight nod to them and tipping his hat lightly.

"Yyyyyeeessss, gooodddd niiiggghhhttt, thhhhaaaannnkkk yooouuu," Vera said from between clattering teeth. With that, George and J.C. left the girls to do their thing. Vera would get changed and get rested down for the night. It wouldn't take long before she was out cold and dead to the world. It had been a long day. George showed J.C. to the Lord Majors room and waited by the door to be let in, they had said they would join the man for a night cap.

"She's different," J.C. said as he glanced over towards George. "Don't let history repeat itself," he said, seeming to give a warning.

George looked at the floor. "Which history?"

"Either."
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Morose
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Gene Benaszewski


Location: The Ferry - Cargo ->>> Elite Deck - Lauren's Rooms
Skills: N/A
Gene smirked slightly at J.C.'s compliment of her looks. It wasn't the best compliment she could have received by any means, but she did enjoy the subtle jab at George. "Yup, I got the looks and the brains and I guess all that was left over for Georgie was the brawn," Gene quipped. She accepted J.C.'s hand and gave him a firm handshake. And had she not been asked by her brother to look after Vera, she likely would have insisted on joining them all for a drink.

She was pretty certain she could outdrink at least one of the men heading for a nightcap, at any rate.

At any rate, Gene had a bit of a skip in her step and seemingly renewed yet somehow unlimited energy as they went from the cargo hold all the way up to the elite deck. She gave a cheerful wave at the people checking tickets, imagining that they were probably annoyed with this group by now. "Goodnight brother dear!" Gene said cheekily, smirking at him as he explained he'd fetch them in the morning for breakfast.

Nora had excused herself, which was fine by Gene, and Gene entered the rooms and laughed a bit as Lady Munn was out cold so soon after getting ready for bed. "Toss me a pillow, will ya?" she asked Lauren. "I'll sleep on the floor by the door - does wonders for your back." She smirked a bit and once she had gotten herself settled with a makeshift bed on the ground, Gene settled in.

She wasn't going to go sleep in her rooms - she had to protect these people, after all. And that seemed to be a full time job.

Nora Kingston


Location: The Ferry - Cargo ->>> Elite Deck - Nora's Rooms
Skills: N/A
Nora looked at Lady Munn for a moment, her eyes widening as George scooped her up. She remembered for a moment all of the fuss that had happened when they first met George, unrightfully so due to his physical appearance. And now, Lady Munn seemed perhaps just mildly flustered to be scooped up into his arms. It certainly was an American way of doing things. She hoped that Vera was happy, at the very least - especially so soon after Peter's death.

She walked with Lauren, leading George and Mahendra and Vera through the space and up to the stairs to change decks. It was a bit of a winding feeling, traveling up all of those stairs. It was a lot easier going down them than it was going up and she was content to just listen to the conversation as they climbed. She was a quiet personality by nature and among the louder and excitable ones, it was easy for Nora to more or less fade into the background.

"I'll see you all in the morning," Nora told Vera, Lauren, and Gene once they had made it to the elite deck. "I think the room would be a bit cramped if I did not sleep in my own quarters," she added as an explanation, before nodding at them in turn and Nora withdrew to her own rooms. Once inside, she locked the door behind her and sat down on the bed, thinking over the events for a while. It would not be long however until she fell asleep.

Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Nallore
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Nallore RPG's Grope Master & Taco Hunter. :P

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Lauren Ridgeway


Location: The Ferry - Elite Deck (Lauren's Cabin)
Skills: N/A





"Ah I see." Lauren said towards JC when he answered her, she would have sworn that they had known each other during the war, but she simply nodded and gave the two men a slight smile. Lauren looked over her shoulder towards Mahendra, she did feel bad that he wasn't on their deck and had to stay there alone again. "Well if you need me you know where my room is." Lauren gave Mahendra a friendly smile as The Lord Major and George talked to each other. She thought for a moment and wanted to get a drink as well, but it was really late now at this point as well, she couldn't help but laugh slightly at Gene' comment.

Eventually they were now at the Elite Deck, she gave the crew that escorted them a friendly smile and thanked them, as she took out her key and unlocked it. "Sleep well you guys, and thank you as well." Lauren said, as she looked at Nora and nodded towards her, her room was pretty packed now at this point. "See you in the morning Nora." Lauren gave her friend a smile and watched her turn and heading to her own cabin, she started to get changed as well, looking over at Gene. "Lets just hope your back wont get angry at you in the morning." Lauren teased a bit as she tossed her a pillow, she then got into her bed next to Vera, turning off the lights and fell asleep rather quickly.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by ONL
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ONL Occasional Private Dick

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Mahendra Huq Zalil




Location: Main Deck (Stairs) -> Second Deck (Mahendra's quarters)
Skills: N/A



And as if the Gods themselves were doing their outmost - discreetly so, but none the less - to make Mahendra blush even more through his cold cheeks still freezing from the late-night swim, Mosi appeared to join the group for a brief conversation about, of course, how Mahendra had fallen into the river. His words flustered at first, but through chattering teeth just like poor Vera, he tried to answer her like he had answered the others down in Cargo. "Mosi dear! Ye-yes, I did fa-fa-fall into the water, but it was only due to my own clumsyne-ne-clumsyness. Yes and thank you, but I sha-shall be fine, if only a little co-co-cold." Mahendra told Mosi as he was escorted further up the stairs to the Second Deck.

He was certain not to forget today's events, and shamefully he was certain that nobody else would either. Oh the shame.

Mahendra was sleeping on the Second Deck of the ship, and when the others left for the Elite Deck, Mahendra gave a final friendly smile to each of them, including Lauren who once again offered to help him if the needed arose. "You are too kind, dear Lauren. But thank you nonetheless. Good night." And with that, Mahendra was led into his quarters by the crew and in the end was alone. It was better this way, he thought, than to stand out there amongst the Fellowship and appear weak from the cold. But at the same time, as Mahendra got undressed and found a towel to dry himself up more, he couldn't help but feel a little lonely. Tired, cold and lonely.

Soon Mahendra was in a new set of dry clothes, approriate for sleeping as he hung up his wet clothes to dry and went to his bed. Not many hours earlier he had already had a nap, but the Bengali needed more rest now. If not for today's escapedes, then for whatever the next day would bring. As he closed his eyes and things faded to darkness, one things remained in his vision; those glowing, red eyes of the mysterious lady.


Richard Barker




Location: Lower Deck (Richard's quarters)
Skills: N/A



What does one expect a private detective to do right before he goes to sleep? Kneel down before the bed and say a prayer to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, asking for guidance? Wash his face and brush his teeth? Fill up his scotch glass with yet another drink of cheap booze since everything's illegal those days? Richard had done all of the above through his life, both as a street cop in the dirtied and bloodied streets of New York and as the no-nonsense PI Barker. As he lay in bed and got ready to sleep the not-so Big Sleep as one said, he did neither. Richard simply lay in that bed, taking in both the comfortable feeling of not sleeping on a couch, and thinking.

Richard usually slept on his couch in his run-down office, the ceiling fan slowly turning around on an electric bill he had been due to pay for a few weeks over time while the sound of traffic and angry shouts echoed from the window. Sometimes he cigarette still clung to his dry lips, but tonight there was none of that. Only him in his bed, the muffled sounds of what one could expect of a lower deck on a ship, and his usual detective thoughts. He thought about what had happened that day, the whole shebang.

They had gotten a ride on the steamboat to go up-river in an attempt to gather some more clues about George Jay Cold the I., and ended up in what Richard felt was a Buster Keaton movie. Burning his sleeve twice, ripping his pants and breaking a chair like it was a cheap bench in Central Park. And neither had gotten any good clues, at least not towards the Gould-case. But Richard could not get the image of that Franklin figure out of his mind; him, sun-burned and reading that journal that clearly wasn't his. Even if it wasn't related to Gould, Richard would be damned if he wasn't going to try cracking this little case. If not for some ambigous moral reasoning, he would do it out of spite.

And as he continued to dabble in the what's and how's of Franklin the Journal-man, Richard slowly but surely began drifting off to sleep. For once he didn't drink himself stupidly drunk, this was one rare occasion where it was natural.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Sigil
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Sigil Literary Hatchetman

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George Benaszewski
&
Reginald Keystone


Location: The Ferry (Elite Deck, Reginald's Stateroom)
Skills: N/A
Skills: N/A




The security measures of the riverboat handled as clockwork as they had been throughout their adventures that day, Reginald found himself standing in front of his stateroom door. From the look of things, he was the last to arrive at his own party. "Apologies, gentlemen. Stairs tend to be the adversary of an aging man's knees. Excuse me." He extended a hand, unlocking the door and swung it open. Standing to one side, the Lord Major motioned into the room with his free hand. "Please, make yourselves at leisure. I shall attend to the drinks." His voice wasn't cheerful, so much as it was relieved that the day was coming to a close.

J.C. didn't seem to mind and chuckled a bit. "Don't be worrying any," he said before he stepped into the room and took a look around. Having a seat he got comfortable and relaxed against the back of the chair. George nodded towards the Lord Major and entered behind J.C., quietly and taking a seat as well. His one eyes looked around a bit as he sat there with his hands on his knees, rubbing them back and forth a bit.

"Mmm, thank you for the mmm invite Sir."

"Why, think nothing of it, dear boy." It was a polite intonation. Reginald opened a reinforced leather box upon the small table nearby, containing what appeared to be a gentleman's traveling kit for the booze enthusiast on the go. Thick glass rather than more fragile crystal, but finely made, and a decanter which already contained a fair amount of light brown spirits. He poured for his guests first, and added a hollow swizzle stick into the one he handed to George. "Not a straw, persay, but it should function just as well in a pinch. He filled and raised his own glass, adding, "My sincerest gratitude, gentlemen. I am in your debt. Cheers."

George look the glass and it was obvious by the expression on the exposed side of his face he was grateful for the accommodation. He could drink without a straw but with the mask on it made it far more difficult. He rose his glass as J.C. did. "Nah, think nothing of it. Wouldn't be the first time I drug a body out of the water but hey, much better out come than last time," he said before taking a sip. George cast a glance towards J.C. and nodded with a bit of a chuckle. It seemed there was a story there.

The Lord Major sipped from his glass, enjoying the smoky nuance of the fine scotch whisky. It was a pleasure that drew men from all walks of life, quite possibly why alcohol was used in this fashion. Still, making light of saving lives was either novel or false modesty. While it didn't matter in the long run which one it was, it seemed to be a conversation starter. "If you insist sir, I shan't make garrulous mention of the incident past this evening, Mr. C. Suffice it to say, Lady Munn's safety is of great importance to me. The other fellow I am merely acquainted with, but he seems a decent sort. Do tell though, as my more curious nature is piqued, what was the outcome of the last time?"

J.C. choked a bit on his drink, nearly snorting it with a chuckle. "Ring me mother." Clearing his throat he caught a smile pulling at the corner of George's mouth. He had heard this tale before but he wasn't opposed to hearing it again. Setting the drink down, J.C. wiped his mouth with the back of sleeve and then rubbed his hands together. "Okay, please, make no mistake, death at any time is a bad thing. And that's how this turned out, the man was dead when I got to him. Thing is, I am pretty sure he was dead when he was still fifty feet in the air as well." That was a hell of a start. "Picture it, New York, 1924, Spring is in the air and so is the booze. Prohibition is strong but where there's a bath tub, well there's gin. Fires and booze don't mix well..."

The intro was enough to raise an eyebrow on Reginald's distinguished visage. As a dutiful host might, he unstopped the decanter and quickly splashed a refill into the glasses of his guests and himself, even though there was but a little sipped from each of them. He sat and crossed his legs, leaning forward. "You have my attention, sir. Please, continue."

George figured attention would be gotten quickly with that one as he sipped his booze from his swizzle stick. It was quite the portrait. Picking up the glass, J.C. took another sip before he set it back down again and continued. "Well I wasn't sure what happened to get it started at first, that part I found out later in the news paper. All I know is I was butting heads with this Drug Store Cowboy about a Moll and suddenly, like Haley's fucking comet there is a blaze boosting through the air like nothing I ever seen," he started. Thing was, there was a lot more to story, even before the rockets red glare.



Martin Gallagher

Location: Lower East Side, Manhattan - New York, NY - April 19th, 1924
Skills: N/A



Martin Gallagher died earlier this year.

It came on suddenly, as he told us it would. Hindsight reminds us that we saw it coming, too. I know it doesn't make a lot of sense now, but it did when it happened and it will again in time. It's a question of perspective. Look, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start with that morning.

The man awoke from disturbed sleep, vividly aware of the alcohol he had consumed the night before. It wasn’t a huge, massive amount, but he wasn't a heavy drinking twenty-something anymore. His tolerance for “The Creature” was formidable; that was not up for debate. His age did lend a certain sharpness to the morning following, however, that just wasn’t present in his earlier years. He drank too much, anyway. More than he should. The Prohibition Act was in force, but facing the facts of 1920s New York, anyone could get hammered if they even halfway tried.

Martin had a lot of vices. He hadn't fully pushed himself out of bed yet, but he had already put a match to his first Lucky Strike of the day. He then turned to the lady who shared the bed with him and said, "I gotta get back to the firehouse." She understood. Martin had to be there early in case his wife came by, thinking he was still on his rotation. Yeah, he had vices.

His morning was peppered with coffee and cigarettes, plus a quick slam of the pup what bit him the night before. He rushed to get a few blocks up the road on foot, though he did stop to swap a dime for a bite on the way. It was Lower Manhattan and he was in a hurry. Some things were just convenient. Hot dogs being one, and having a mistress within walking distance of work being another.

The truth was, Martin hated himself. He didn't know why he kept doing the things he did. He had an honorable, rewarding job that he loved, great family who he also loved, and most people considered him something of a flawed hero. Maybe he was wired that way. He was every bit his father's son. People had said that to him for a long time, moreso than his brothers and sisters. He looked like the man, sounded like him, and was respected around the neighborhood like him. No one ever knew that the old man hit his wife. His kids too, if they disrespected him or "got out of line". He drank, had affairs, and he could really make their lives a living hell, coming home at night reeking of nickel whisky. Martin carried a couple of marks into adulthood that originated from his father's attention on those nights. Burn marks, mostly. They were quickly explained away after he joined up with the Fire Department as job-related, but he knew. He never let himself forget.

Another truth, aside from Martin hating himself - He really was like his father. But he took some traits from his mother, too. Enough presence of mind and basic human decency to know that, despite being the spitting image of Asshole Primus, he didn't need to continue the cycle with his kids. Martin was still an asshole. Still had his vices. Smoking, drinking, gambled on occasion. He could be mean. Acrimonious. Cheated on his wife. Wasn't around enough. Never hit. Not his wife, ever, and not his kids excepting disciplinary action acceptable for the time and place.

I'm getting away from topic again. Marty was an asshole and he knew it enough to feel bad about it. He was close to hitting a low point in his life. Maybe even low enough to do one of those introspective, life-affirming turnarounds that you see so many of in the books and motion pictures and such. The problem was, we'd never know.

As soon as he set foot in the building, his Chief informed him that they were a couple men short on the Ladder Company 16 crew, and wanted to know if he could clock in officially. Martin was a responsible guy. He did what firemen did; grabbed some coffee, did his safety checks, and settled into a routine. It was your average day in the Lower East Side.

Sometime in the late morning the bell sounded. It was always a thing which got the place animated. The men of Engine Company 39 and Ladder Company 16 were tried and true units; swift and organized, precise, experienced, and dedicated. They had answered this call many times. Martin donned his helmet, grabbed his axe, and joined the men on the ladder truck. The line of smoke was spotted toward the East River, where new tenements had been built. It wouldn't have been the first time someone torched their own, very new property for the insurance payoff, certainly wouldn't be the last. Regardless, it took little time for the crews to arrive on scene. Riverside residential structure. Apartments. Privately owned.

The fires appeared contained to one side of the building upon arrival. This worked in their favor. The Engine 39 set up nearby, trailing a manual hose into the river for a continuous stream of water. The people on ground assured the Fire Brigade that the place had been evacuated, to the best of their knowledge. But these men wanted to be careful. The supervising Lieutenant grabbed Martin by his shoulder and shouted over the noise of flames and men alike, "Gallagher! Take your team and give us a sweep on the river side! Put eyes on it now!"

Without hesitation, he barked back, "I've heard ya, L.T.!" and called Ladder 16 together. They moved the truck around the block and went through standard procedure, checking windows for any sign of people trapped above, making sure fire exits were clear, and reporting among themselves back to the Ladder Engineer. Just when they were about to return to their colleagues and join them fighting the blaze, Martin caught sight of something up high. "Wait! Wait, damn ya! Fourth floor, left!" He could have sworn he saw something move in the window. Maybe it was nothing, and maybe it was something. There was no way he could ignore it. In his personal life, he wasn't a very nice man. At work, he was a medaled hero.

"Hey, Guy! You get me a ladder up to that fourth floor corner window, right goddamned now, or you'll be a'wearing my galosh in your ass! Get me? Hey! Talking to you!" He didn't waste time for an answer. Even as it was being raised, Martin was already on the ladder, climbing as it was ratcheted up, up, up to its intended window.

When he got there, he placed a hand on the windowglass. It was warm, which could be a bad sign, but not blistering hot. It could just as easily been the morning sun radiating upon it. At the very least, it was still cool enough that he could likely break through without feeding a hidden blaze with fresh air. Martin tapped the glass with his fire axe. It gave way and he stepped in. "It was this window..." he mumbled, though he could not see a thing in that place past large, blocky shapes. His eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, and yet again he could have sworn he saw movement. "...please, don't be a kid hiding on me..." he whispered, followed by, "Fire Department, City of New York! We've gotta get everyone out of the building! ...damnit... Hey kid, you wanna sit in a real Fire Truck? C'mon!"

Nothing. But his eyes were beginning to pick up more detail. Barrels. Coils. Sealed pots and oil radiators. He smelled sour fermentation in the air, and instinctively he took a step backward. It was not a good place to be. Not at all. The entire apartment was converted into a series of pot distilleries and holding tubs, each in the middle of different stages of alcohol production. There was no telling how many apartments were set up like this. If he lit a cigarette in this place, he'd take a chance with his life. And the building was on fire.

The door burst open, weakened from thermal pressure, allowing a sudden wave of heat and sparks to enter. The fire must have caught something inside that carried it to his corner of the building, by chance or by arson. It didn't matter. Martin knew what was coming. He wasn't getting out of this alive. He still tried to make it back to the window.

The apartment went up like a stack of dynamite.

Martin F. Gallagher's final moments were surreal. He registered a bright flash of orange-white light, and he could feel his body swept up in the concussion. There was the objective knowledge that he was on fire and outside of the building, high up in the air. Mostly though, he felt a profound sense of self-loathing. He really, truly was an asshole. As much as he struggled to be nothing like his father, he sure did one bang-up job filling his shoes. He had kids he rarely saw. A wife who he wasn't faithful to. A nagging problem with illegal whisky which, fittingly, was literally killing him that second. He had plenty of chances to make it up to them all, and pissed each and every one of them away. Marty was going to die, right then and there, flying through the air on fire, very probably in more than one good-sized piece. He could never apologize. Never kiss his wife again, nor ruffle his childrens' hair. There would never be a chance to see his grandchildren. Martin was a dead man, and nothing could change that.

Before his life was snuffed away mid-air and his body folded on the surface of the East River, he whispered three words that no living, human soul would ever hear, but needed to be said.

"I'm so sorry."


Back To Now




"Oh Christ, I swear, the the look on the mans face was like this," J.C. said between chuckles before contorting his own facial expression to this. "Arms flailed out like he was being strung up on the rack and I can't be sure but I would bet me life on it that he still had a cigarette in his hand when he hit the water." George was chuckling a bit in his gravel tone. It was a hell of a tale to be spun and J.C. was a consummate story teller.

A dry chuckle escaped Reginald. Not at the story itself, which sounded truly tragic, but from the explanation prior to and the expression afterward. It quickly manifested as a chortle, as the man was attempting to restrain himself yet was failing, and so soon gave way to a small bout of mirthful laughter. Perhaps he would blame the whisky. "Oh dear, that... Tragic story, yes. Tragic." He did try to recover composure. It had marginal success.

"Mmm, yes, tragic," George said with a straight face before he gave his own impersonation of the striking facial expression that looked like someone had taken a bad shot of whiskey. It was made even more extreme due to the man mask - so while one side of his face remained set in steel, the other was overly expressive. This time, J.C. lost it an had to cover his mouth to keep the brown liquid from spraying everywhere.

The stately expression and manner of the Lord Major was chiefly forgotten in the moment, try as he might to maintain his traditional Stiff Upper Lippage common to upright citizens of the British Empire. His face reddened and his mouth twisted slightly as he fought valiantly to maintain the presence of his fine liquor on the inside of his body. Finally, after concentrated effort, Reginald swallowed, coughed once, and allowed himself a laugh. "Ah, gentlemen... the loss of a dram of this nectar would likewise be tragic. However! However sirs, this has been the most entertaining conversation that I've been involved with in quite some time. Should you prefer, I would not be opposed to a repeat next evening."

J.C. was still chuckling as he wiped the tears from the corner of his eye. "Oh wow, I haven't laughed that much since I was a little girl," J.C. joked. George grinned a bit and set his glass down. J.C. knew what that meant. It was getting late. "Well, as much fun as this has been, we should turn in and I need dry clothes," J.C. added as he stood up and shook the Lord Majors hand. "Been swell and thanks for the spirits, right fine stuff," he said before making his way to the door.

George rose and buttoned his coat before extending his hand to Reginald. "Mmm, thank you Sir. I mmm will check the halls and then turn in," he said shaking the mans hand before joining J.C. at the door. The two finished their goodbyes and goodnights and left the Lord Major to himself to get a nights rest. It had been a hell of a day, tomorrow was yet to come.

Reginald held the door open for the two Americans, wishing them a pleasant evening. "Yes, yes. I have thoroughly enjoyed your company, of course. Stay safe, gentlemen, and goodnight." The Lord Major closed the door and locked it behind his egressing company. It had been one hell of a day, and tomorrow promised to be equally as interesting. And they had two more days upon the riverboat. He should probably get some rest. Window secure, door locked. Pistol next to his bed, officer's sword leaning against the nightstand. Just like back in his quarters in the Barracks. The Lord Major slipped from his more formal attire and into significantly more casual, nighttime attire, and into his comfortable grey burnoose besides. He tarried only long enough to put away his travel set of fine whisky, turn down his bed for the issues commonly found in Egypt (snakes, camel spiders, scorpions and the like), and settled in for as much rest as his busy thoughts would allow.



Haring Reddish



Location: The Ferry (Elite Deck, Josephine's Stateroom -> Second Deck, Reddish's Cabin)
Skills: N/A




Reddish understood. He had a lovely time with Josephine, but that time had drawn to a close. The intrusion to her room and the theft of a personal talisman probably had its role to play as well, and as much as Reddish wished to remain behind and see to her safety, the words were spoken. He was not going to insist upon remaining in a lady's room after she expressed an interest in his absence, even politely as this was. "Absolutely, madame." he said softly. Giving her hand a little squeeze, he rose from her bed and gave a warm smile. "Thank you ever so much for your company this evening, Miss Clarke. I understand that you didn't have to, and I further understand that I have propensity to be an obnoxious, grating individual." His face looked a touch uncertain, but he nodded in affirmation of his own statement. "So I suppose that's a Thank You, madame, for your patience with someone as comparatively workaday as myself. As compared to you, of course, Miss."

All the same, it was likely that, were he witnessed exiting Josephine's quarters it may shine an unfavorable light upon her. Discretion was the point of order and nothing about this evening had been discreet. Even the nature of their differing lifestyles might cast rumor upon the woman. He would avoid that, if he possibly could. "Miss Clarke, if I may?" He sized up his parting conversation and tried to phrase himself in such a way as to avoid insult, if possible. "Please forgive my impertinence, and my continued presence. These are two things I will fix very shortly. I have concerns to your reputation, having a strange man exit your quarters at night. Befitting my ticket, I am here serving at the pleasure of the Lord Major. Allow me the more visibly acceptable excuse, ma'am, of running your laundry to Services? I shall return it upon morning, of course, and then we shall just be two people engaged in the goings-on of the expected social contract between the lofty," he motioned to Josephine, "and the plebeian." And a motion to himself. "With your honor wholly unbesmirched, of course. You need not have to suffer the rumors of judgemental strangers, Miss Clarke. I'd not have it if I could help."

He didn't know what to expect from the exchange, but was suddenly very pleased when Josephine gave an approving nod. He gathered up what he could, from what she had been attired in earlier in the day, folded it loosely, and made and himself scarce. "You have given me a grand gift tonight, Miss Clarke. Thank you again. If you should need anything, please knock upon my stateroom door. At any time, ma'am. I insist. Oh! Please lock the door behind me."

He shut the door as he left, cradling the small bundle of Josephine's afternoon wear, with a polite, "Miss Clarke." and breathed out a wistful sigh. A quiet smile followed. Even if that was the last time he spoke with the woman, he had made an impressive memory with her. Two things prevented it from being the last meeting, however; Reddish still had to deliver her copies of the photograph taken earlier, and he also had to handle her laundry. Excellent! Life wasn't so bad after all. With a skip in his step, he practically danced across the deck and down the stairs, flashed his ticket and information, and bounded toward his own quarters.

He suddenly stopped short for a moment in stark realization of something ...amiss... This ship didn't exactly, persay, ah, or whatsoever have any laundry services. But he explicitly told Josephine that he would deliver her garments to her upon the morning. He simply couldn't do that while they were still lightly used from the day before, that would be highly unseemly! Highly! And Unseemly! No, that would not do at all. The Corporal rushed the rest of the way to his stateroom and hurriedly unlocked the door. As fate would have it, his quarters were as of yet untouched by whatever or whomever was making themselves at home in some of the others' rooms.

Just to be on the safe side, reddish checked his field weapons, additional bayonets, webbing, tack, gear, and lastly his beloved Aeroplane Cards. Wrapped individually was an artistic likeness of the original Skyknight himself, Lord Major Reginald I. Keystone in his finery, standing in front of his preferred craft from back in the Great War. He had yet to work up the presumption to ask the old man to sign it for him, though if he did, it would be worth a great, great deal to a collector. Not that he would readily part with it for anything less than a full emergency. Well, everything was safe and accounted for. Now to his other dilemma. Josephine's clothes weren't going to wash themselves, and neither was the staff aboard this boat. With a heavy sigh, Reddish stepped into his allotted washroom and began to fill the basin. Part of the duties of a batman were to see to his Officer's delicates. He could handle this, he just wasn't getting to sleep for another half hour, was all.

The water slowly rose, and while it did The Corporal began to look over the apparel for anything resembling a stain or patch that might require extra attention. The starlet was a very well put together and proper woman, it seemed, and a simple rinse and freshen was all that her clothes would require. Good. Very good. And it even looked like, were he the sort to go in for thing of the sort (perish the thought), that with a couple of buttons undone (considering that he was a slender chap) that he might actually be able to fit into a couple of these articles. Noooo. No, he mustn't. That just wouldn't be proper.

He continued thinking that it wouldn't be proper as he made sure his door was securely closed and latched. Not proper at all. He felt the same way as he turned off the water to the handwashing sink. Quite the scandalous idea, really. Then again, it wasn't like he wasn't going to make sure everything was clean and dry after the fact, right? I mean, knowing firsthand the cut and color of Josephi- sorry, Miss Clarke's garments would only give a greater understanding of the lady, yes?

Hmm?



A little later than most, Corporal Haring D. Reddish had hung freshly laundered clothing up to dry upon the door to his washroom, off the back of a chair, and on the interior of the cabin door. In a handful of hours, everything should be in proper order. He nestled himself in bed, for a while feeling truly content to be alive.
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Priscilla Harker



Location: Second Deck(Stairs)->Second Deck(Mosi's Room)
Skills: N/A




There wasn't much to do now as Mosi walked to the door of her room. Frankly she herself usually would have been up and running for a while more, but she felt tired. Too much location changing lately on top of the fever and pain she went through earlier. This was it for tonight, tomorrow was going to be a brand new day and after a good night's sleep, she was going to br so much more energetic and able to locate fun stuff to do.

With a smile and tired expression, she walked to her door, unlocked it, entered and locked it behind herself." Ahh... quiet again." She mused as she started to undress and change into her sleepwear in no rush. Once that was done and over with, she sat down on the bed, pulling her sketchbook and a trusty pencil. She drew a line then closed the sketchbook on the pencil and placed them underneath her pillow. Then finally rested her tired body down, her eyes looking up and her ears filled with the sounds of a ship.

Slowly her eyes were closing down as last fleeting logical thoughs were appearing and vanishing as leave on the flow of a river. In the end with a smile, she was already asleep, her mind wandering to the world of dreams where everything was possible.
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Josephine Clark

Location: Elite Deck (Josephine's Room)
Skills: N/A


Josephine hadn't expected much from the Corporal other than a thanks and leaving. The fact he cares so much for her reputation only solidified her decision to have him leave without anything more. She hadn't regretted it and this only cemented it. He was, perhaps, too good for this world. Too good for her, in any case. "I suppose that is fair, if you would like." Josephine got up and helped unload her laundry into Reddish's arms. She saw him out the door with a slight wave and a smile. Once she closed the door, she felt herself getting emotional again.

She was alone now and she felt it. Before she had Haakon for companionship and then the man died. She may have had pleasant conversations with Nora and Lady Munn, but she wouldn't call then confidances. And the others she barely knew apart from brief speakings. No, this was the first time since Haakon passed that she felt a bond with another person. Her mind raced to pleasant things all too quickly and if she hadn't forced Reddish out, who knows what would have happened?

She put on her silk nightgown, undid her hair and make-up, and got into bed. She quickly got up to ensure the door was locked before returning to the bed. She was not afraid, but it paid to be cautious. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep.



Faye Masterson

Location:Lower Level (Faye's Room)
Skills: N/A


Faye fell asleep quite quickly, despite being on a boat. It may have been the events of the ship that drove her to exhaustion or the drinks she consumed were to blame. She began to dream. In it, she saw her sister, alive and well. She looked the same age as when she died, but Faye couldn't speak. It was as if she was seeing a scene unfold in front of her.

Then ghastly images appeared. Spirits of malic and contempt seemed to surround her sister. All laughing wickedly. Faye couldn't move or do anything but observe and as soon as the spirits dissolved, her sister was laying down in a lump, blood surrounding her.

Faye quickly sat up in bed, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. She had nightmares before, sure. Studdying the occult tended to do that, but it was never as vivid as that. Nor did it ever involve her and those she cared for. She wasn't so much scared as worried. But she was also determined. Now more so than ever. If this was an attack by the spiritual realm to drive her off course, they would have to do a better job.
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