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Current I now identify as a Master Procrastinator. Thank you all, and good night.
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New medical term: Dizzy mummy (condition of patient when world is spinning and only treatment is confinement to bed). I hate being sick...
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@Vampiretwilight: Funny indeed. Now to make it into a roleplay here...let the madness and sassy Narrator commence.
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Anyone up for some esoteric fun with cosmic horror? Wait! The stars are soon right! Tekeli-Li!


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Call of Cthulhu

Chapter One: The Crack'd and Crook'd Manse

Date: Monday, May 4th, 1925
Time: Afternoon, sometime around 4PM
Location: Streets of Gamwell, Massachuttets

@Remipa Awesome@rivaan@RBYDark@rocketrobie2@Vertigo

Many hours after leaving what one foresighted invividual might have described as "relative safety" of Arkham's cobbled streets and crooked roofs, the single automobile which had so faithfully transported the Investigators all this way, arrived in the collection of houses, buildings, homes and more. A rustic sign on the side of the road assigned the town as Gamwell, their destiation as of now. Whatever conversations and discussions had taken place as the rubber tires spurred along the backroads of New England plains, hills and forrests, nothing truly new could have been gleamed that would make anything different now.

For before them stood the collective of constructions, each built for a different purpose most regular in nature. Down the road they could see a line of homes, shops and offices, each carrying a different sign indicating its main purpose and inhabitants. Around a corner they would find what could be acertained to be the Sherrif's Office, while at the outskirts what must have been a tavern or guesthouse of some sort. Further down a street they would find a newspaper office. And nowhere in the messy organisation of abodes could they see the mansion of their missing Arthur Cornthwaite.

They were there. Now they only had to choose where to go next. Our beloved and blisfully doomed Investigators had been given a handful of clues before departing, and thus a few options for their lines of enquiry:

1. They could do as told by their boss, Harry Peacock and make a proper introduction to Mr. Cornthwaite's attorneys, the Dodge Brothers. Looking at their watches, the Investigators might have been lucky and reached Gamwell before the brothers have closed down for the day.
2. Visit the local newspaper, the Gamwell Gazette and enquire about their knowledge of Arthur Cornthwaite's disappearance, since it's been written about in the papers.
3. Stop by the local sheriff and ask of the discrepancy between the time of Mr. Cornthwaite's disappearance, investigations were conducted and dropped. Might be a good idea to ask for assistance, if not only what the local authorities have learned so far.
4. Visit the local library and riffle through the aforementioned 'donations' made by Mr. Cornthwaite as referenced in the newspaper.

Where do you choose to go? Do you all go together, or split up the party? And lastly, do you dare?

Call of Cthulhu

Chapter One: The Crack'd and Crook'd Manse

Date: Monday, May 4th, 1925
Time: Morning -> Approaching noon
Location: TIME Agency Office - Arkham, Massachusetts -> Investigators' homes around Arkham -> One hours drive west of Arkham

The late arrival of the group's psycologist-nurse, Alessa Bianchi, fulfilled the last gaps of the unity which constituted the orchestra of investigators. As they were five, a certain sense of harmony had been achived, if one believed in such things. Harry Peacock himself would just have been happy to report to his employer, Mr. Talbot, that the entire Arkham-chapter was finally conducting their investigations he paid them fo. Why, he still hadn't managed to fully decypher yet, but as long as it paid the bills he wasn't complaining. Yet.

Whoever's automobile was to be chosen amongst their various means of transportation, the various Investgators split up to attend to pressing business and/or gathering their supplies. Just as they were quite different figures themselves - Eleonora the Detective, Alessa the semi-Psychologist, Jeremiah the Professor, Father Charles the fallen Priest and Margarete the brawned Antique Dealer -, they would make their ways home and equip themselves with the gear they sought desirable in whatever trials they might face in Gamwell.

In due time the Investigators rendevouzed at a pre-determined location, before ascending into the motorized mean of transportation that was one of their's autombile - a fine, yet fragile contraption for a fine, yet fragile time and age. It was a wonder the group of five could even fit everything that needed there, and somehow the very laws of physics allowed them to pack up their personal belongings and get moving - to others it would have been called "simply packing reasonably".

An hour would pass with the automobile puttering down the New England roads leading westward, following the mighty and enigmatic Miskatonic River as itself flowed out to the vaste ocean. Was the river telling them they were going the wrong way? "Turn around, you foolish human beings. Turn around and flee to the sea! My very source is too frightful for you!" Thankfully rivers did not speak.

Small collections of houses, farms, incredibly sparse gas stations and endless woods passed the automobile's windows, up to the Investigators if they were opened for the slowly heating-up May air or not. A bump in the road there, a sharp turn right here, a farmer passing gently on the other side of the road on his horse and cart, nothing out here was attempting to endanger the Investigators.

Not yet at least.

The floor boards creak above the force of its movements, filling each and every minute crevise as it makes its way to the other side. Searching for something bigger than the hairy creatures with sharp teeth. It hungers patiently. Unseen when it wants, there is no use in running or hiding. Within these walls, it lives omnisciently, yet thoughtless.

Is there nothing left to eat?

Perhaps outside.

**You are all now one hour outside of Arkham. Anticipate additional four to five hours more of driving before reaching the presumed location of Gamwell. Do ask for rolls or suggest social encounters along the route. If not, proceed as normal with interacting with each other in the car.**

Call of Cthulhu

Chapter One: The Crack'd and Crook'd Manse

Date: Monday, May 4th, 1925
Time: Morning
Location: TIME Agency Office - Arkham, Massachusetts

Harry Peacock

Location: TIME Agency office - Downtown Arkham


With each stroke of the minute, the clock mounted up on the wall of the office signalled the possibility of another investigator's entry. After the first three of them had shown up, Jeremiah Dupree, ELeonora Estelle and Margarete o'Bryon, the poultry-named private detective kept up the hope that the two others would also make their presence known. Something in his gut told him this case of Arthur Cornthwaite wouldn't be as easy as one might think, and strength was to be found in numbers.

Too bad he was never good at the numbers, hence him avoiding the accountant-position his father had back in his youth.

Without turning his head to face the door opening, Harry could hear the hushed footsteps of their resident 'priest', the so-called Father C, enter the office. While the three first attendees talked about the case, Harry merely acknowledged Charle's presence with a brief nod, before turning his attention back to the points raised by all three of them - now four.

Which to his surprise was the one to put a spotlight on something odd found in the papers - Father Charles noticed the dates. Harry looked at him, giving him a nod of approval and the briefest of smiles, before chipping in his two cents of opinion. "Keen eyes you've got there, padre. Yes, I found that to be a bit peculiar. You've already got part of an answer there; if no one thought Mr. Cornthwaite was missing, they wouldn't have declared him a Missing Person until much later. Might be quite interesting to talk with the town sheriff about that, and that little 'investigation' of his own. If the newspaper article was published on the 17th of April, sometime between the 7th and 17th of that month. That's for me to ask, and you lot to figure out. "

Next up was the Professor, adjusting the microscopic sight onto the more academic path of the unlikelyhood of the missing millionaire going on an expedition. "Really? Hmm, never thought about the actual logistics of these eggheads going out into places already discovered and inhabiated by people. You make a good point, Professor, where's all his paperwork? Though I can't recommend you go to South America and sip drinks in Rio, might be a clue to figure out why he kept silent on the 1923-business. As I say about the politicians; Giving no statement is a statement in itself."

Following the academic member of the group was the return of the fellow gumshoe, Eleonora the Wisecrack. It came as absolutely no surprise that she attempted to twist her words to her advantage, much to Harry's annoyance. With a shaking head and sigh, the elder private investigator turned to her and fired back. "Next time, if you would spend less time flirting with my secretary and more listening to my introductory briefing, you might have gotten your answer...anyhow, you're right on that last bit. You should all get going. Gamwell is a fair way out into the middle of nowhere, and only possible by three means: horse, walking and cars. I suggest the latter."

Margarete was the last one of the present Investigators to talk, giving further opinions and musings on the case as a whole, and suggesting other places to investigate; the library of Gamwell and Mr. Cornthwaite's notes. "Rarely a silly idea to hit the books, Margarete. But what about the notes of Mr. Cornthwaite? Not a bad idea, but where would they be stored?" Harry was almost certain she had gone as far as she could in the prelimenary questionings, but surprised him with a rather well-thought question; how would they be recieved in Gamwell? "If I may be Frank with you, I don't have the faintest idea. I'm pretty sure you won't be met with banners and marching bands, but expect the same hospitality of any small New England town; some initial reservation regarding outsiders, but slowly growing respect for those acting cordially. In short, don't act like the city big cheese. Got it?"

Harry took one final look up at the clock ticking away, unravelling the realities of their world and its very sciences; time had passed, and he knew they should get going if they wanted to reach Gamwell before it got too late in the afternoon. "Do as Margarete suggested, get there by automobiles. As far as I've learned, Gamwell is somewhere before the of Foxfield further west into the country. Just follow the Miskatonic River westward, and you should come across in...probably later rather than sooner. Here, I've got a map you can use." Harry explained to the Investogators, opening the drawer of his office desk and pulling out a decently-sized map of the surrounding New England-area.

Without further ado, Harry would order the Investigators out of the office and onto the streets of Arkham, to be greeted by a warmer sun than had welcomed them before the briefing. Yes the morning had been cold, with a stiff western wind cooling the streets, but the May sun was still on the winning side of Nature. Birds chirping in the far distance, citizens of Arkham walking briskly down the cobbled streets and removing their thick coats, even children running down the street with some modern toy and long-waiting ice-cream vendors hoping for a fast-approaching June, today was going to be a warm and sunny day for the Investigators.

Which made the sudden chill down each of their spines the more disturbing. What did their primal instincts desperately want to tell them on such a lovely day, that they couldn't see? Perhaps it was just the sudden shift in temperature? Yes, probably that.

It was turning into the latter half of the morning. The Investigators had a long drive ahead of them, and plenty of time to discuss their very first case. However they sorted themselves out and organised their transportation, soon they would all be on their way towards Gamwell - First out of the ciy centre of Arkham, turning left and down the main road following the Miskatonic River, and then straight ahead into the unknown countryside, where the hills and woods were told to be alive.

*You are now to make your way from Arkham to the town of Gamwell, as mentioned somewhere around the town of Foxfield west along the Miskatonic River. Decide how you are going to get there and play out your characters conversing with each other. This is a prime opportunity for your characters to get to know each other, discuss clues and make plans. I'll post a brief Keeper Post once everyone has posted, describing how the travelling goes. Expect two-three Keeper Posts minimum before you reach Gamwell after many hours of travelling. Good luck!*
@Vertigo She's accepted, so welcome aboard! Just be sure to use the Fighting Brawl skill also for her Unarmed attack (counts as similar), and to reduce Ideology/beliefs to just one sentence. Also specify where her father's grave is located, and you are free to post her in the Character Tab AND post in the IC.

Welcome to TIME!
@rocketrobie2Hurray! Going to read the post now. Also I'll allow it for now, not even sure how else to request it. Roll your Know/Education-roll and PM me the result. I'll get back to you on what Father C knows or doesn't know.
Sorry for the wait again, just finished up my post this morning before seeing the new post. Gonna read the new one and rework what I've got so I can it up today.

That's quite alright, just get in the edits and post it when it's ready ^^ Keep the same result for the last dice roll when writing your post, but please do request a skillroll if you think of anything for the following post. Glad to have you here still!

Call of Cthulhu

Chapter One: The Crack'd and Crook'd Manse

Date: Monday, May 4th, 1925
Time: Morning
Location: TIME Agency Office - Arkham, Massachusetts

TIME Office: French words of a flirtatious nature brought the mechanical symphony to a brief halt, accompanied by the slighest of chuckles from the red-headed secretary seated behind the office desk. Henrietta placed her palm on her lips, as if to hold in a scandalous gasp from leaving into the world at large. "Why thank you, Madam, you don't look any worse yourself." Henrietta thanked Eleonora, keeping her typewriter silent for a few more moments as she was left to her own waiting for the others to arrive. "A coffee, of course, Ellie. Just don't get your hopes too high. You know how Harry feels about these office romances, not to mention my boyfriend. Later!"

Time moved unnoticeably as the entrance opened again, this time letting the Professor inside. Henrietta's typing drowned out the very steps Jeremiah took, and only the distant breath of the bookworm's "Good morning." proved to the secretary that this had in fact not been the figment of her imagination. Soon enough she was by herself in the reception again, talking to herself. "Good morning, Miss Babson. Good to see you, Miss Babson. How is the cat doing, Babson? What do you think about this new book about a sketchy shiek called "Gatsby, diving deep into the opposing forces of old money and new money in American society, Miss Babson"? Jesus wept! Next time allow me to whack you over the head with something, Professor Dupree..."

Footsteps of a semi-cyclopediean elavation alarted Henrietta of the next Investigator's entry, that of Margarete O'Bryon, the friendly Celtic Gigantess - emphasis on "friendly". Without ceasing her automatic dexterous dance of fingers tapping on keys, she sent a smile towards Margerete as she asked of her well-being, just as she passed and went into the main office. "Just like I always do, Miss o'Bryon. Glad to see you up and dandying. Remind me to send you that catalouge of artifacts from that museum in Boston!"

Harry Peacock

Location: TIME Agency office - Downtown Arkham

Three. Three of five investigators had managed to arrive in time to the briefing. Harry chuckled briefly to himself, leaning over the desk and looking up at the clock ticking away on the wall. Monday morning, still early in May. Yeah, he thought three out of five wasn't too bad, not for a newly established branch in a town like Arkham.

Without further fanfare, Harry gave each investigator a good look and nodded as they commenced their first step in becoming true gumshoes; prelimenary thoughts on the case.

Eleonora's insight into the name of Arthur Cornthwaite left little reaction from Harry, a quick look over at the pseudo-French detective giving the impression of annoyance or disapproval of her attitude. Or perhaps it was the state in which she had arrived. Harry was a private detective himself after all, and knew when to spot someone The day after.

Then again, Harry had to admit, she had been the first investigator to arrive after his call. Even if she was hungover anf arrived with an attitude, she had arrived first.

Taking a long drag from his cigarette while Eleonora continued her second and reflected part of her train of thought, Harry eventually brought the conversation onto something, he hoped, more productive. "Famous folks attract those who want fame themselves. That's why I wound up here, privacy is one precious luxury in this time and age. Eleonora, good point you have there; if he's rich, how did no one catch onto him vanishing? Means he either actively seeks his privacy, or lives isolated from wider society."

The Professor's blunt statement of academic fact was different in every sense of the word from Eleonora's; brief, factual and lacking of emotional judgement. While the first lady had raised some questions, Jeremiah had to Harry's nods of approval given facts. "Correct, Professor. Mr. Cornthwaite seems to be an able man, both in wealth and mind. You should consider if these facts are relevant in some form or fashion; if not as a motive, then as providing us a fram for his disappearance."

Margarete's input was returend with further accknowledning nods from Harry, silently observing the Celtic lass expanding upon what Eleonora and Jeremiah had begun. "We've got a source of income then, as well as some type of quirk to our New England adventurer. Tribes without a sense of direction. Good, we're gaining a clearer impression of Mr. Cornthwaite, detectives. Anything else?"

Ending the burning ambers of the little remains of his cigarette, Harry puffed out the nicotine cloud he'd harboured within his lungs, before continuing. "Lastly Eleonora, they didn't contact you. They contacted me, and I want you to prove yourselves as good gumshoes, so I give the case over to you." Not a moment after ending this quite direct order, the pieces of paper Harry'd held revealed their truths; a typewritten letter and a newspaper-clipping.

"I recieved this letter before the weekend, and have been contemplating whether or not you bunch were ready or not to take on this case. Today and your presence here has given us an answer, and I hope for all our sakes that it is in the affirmative. Anyway, I got this letter alongside the attached clipping for a newspaper, mailed from a small town called Gamwell. I'm not sure which associate of mine this attorney, Mr. Dodge is referring to, but that's not relevant right now. What is relevant is the letter, clipping and Mr. Dodge's request to locate Arthur Cornthwaite and his fate, for a fee of course."

"To you who haven't read the letter, here's the gist of it; Mr. Dodge asks me, and consequently you, to locate the missing Mr. Cornthwaite. He lives in Gamwell, further up the Miskatonic Valley quite far away. Appears the local sheriff didn't find anything suspicious, and taken no further action. That, Miss Eleonora, is why Arthur Cornthwaite's attorney contacted us. Ergo, your first case will be to uncover Mr. Arthur Cornthwaite's whereabouts and, or, fate, on behalf of his attorney. The clock's ticking, gumshoes. What's your plan? If you want one last piece of Harry's Detective Wisdoms, you should go talk to his attorney first. Now if you're all ready, this will be one long car ride for all of you."
I think I shall post the Keeper's post later tonight, with or without reactions to the characters who haven't posted yet. If you haven't posted, we'll play it that your character is a little late to the meeting, but will be included before or as you all are leaving for the case.

Goot Saturday, everyone!
@rocketrobie2Awesome, looking forward to all the posts!
@rivaan Hoping for same great eldritch action as soon as everyone has posted!
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