11 East 73rd St., New York, NY
January 15, 1925



This message was last edited by the GM at 20:06, Mon 14 July 2014.

    Annabel Ashcroft sat by the fireplace watching the fire pop and crackle, soaking up it's warmth. The light cast a soft glow on her beautiful face, highlighting her blonde tresses, which made them look even more golden. It had been a fine party in a fine house with equally fine guests. In fact, the whole thing almost reminded her of back home. If she closed her eyes and opened them again, it seemed she could barely tell the difference. It did make her a bit homesick, though just a little. She was glad to be away from her family, away from the falsehoods and manipulations. That though was a little unfair, it was always like that in high society in one form or another; heck, it was here today even in it's own form. As long as she stayed within it's presence, she knew she would have to deal with it.

      It was one of the reasons she chose her current path as an assistant to one of the esteemed members of the family to whom this residence belonged to. Dr. Elias was kind enough to have hired her and whisk her away from her troubles like a knight rescuing a fair maiden in distress. She blushed a bit at the silliness; she'd been reading too many romance novels. But still, he had gotten her out of that jam and for that she was grateful.

    So here she was in New York, in a big house at a party where she really didn't know anyone except as a acquaintance. It had been pleasant enough though and as a Lady, she had been brought up well enough to hold her own; she could thank her mother for that at least. It was mostly family and friends of the good Doctor. She was actually a bit surprised that he had invited her; after all she was only his assistant, not someone of notable worth. But she was glad he had, otherwise it would have been staying home with another book in hand probably, unless she wanted to brave the cold to visit one of her few friends in the area. What was it with this cold anyway? Being from Providence, she was used to cold weather, but this was a little too much, even for her; and it was only January too, Mercy!

     Turning from gazing into the fire, Annabel took a small sip of the excellent vintage and shifted around the skirts of her blue dress. It was one of the better ones she had brought with her for occasions like this and she looked particularly good in it, plus it matched her eyes well. She raised a slender gloved hand to check an elegant platinum watch around her wrist. It was getting a bit late; most had left already and she felt she should probably go too. After all, she didn't want to be a pest. Maybe just a few more minutes, see what the others would do. She decided to wait.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:31, Mon 14 July 2014.

Stan had driven over early in the morning. He had slipped a plow operator a few bucks and had followed the man uptown from the Lower East Side. When he arrived he had gone to his trunk and carried a case of alcohol he had promised to the party hosts.

He entered through the servants entrance and had exchange the rattling case of whisky for a plate with bacon and eggs. Having grown up as the child of one of the servants, Stan occupied an odd place with a foot in both the family and the household help. Many hugs were exchanged and the older cook had even squeezed his cheeks.

Stan wanted a chance to have a simple meal with his son Jack, who he had not seen since Christmas, and breakfast was a nice excuse for the two of them to catch up. Like most of their time together it had been a bit awkward. Bishop's father was never a warm and expressive man, and Stan was despite his wishes much the same. After catching up on his son's activities and being very circumspect about his own the boy asked to be excused. He and some of the youngsters were headed to the park to do some sledding in the snow. Watching the boy go, Stan watched after him thinking of the many times he and Jackson and some of the others had made the same trek.

With Jack off on his way, Stan joined the other early arrivals and the members of the household already assembled. Stan said hello and made polite comments noticing small changes in people's appearance.

Despite being a private person, Stan was capable o being quite charming and was naturally likable. Perhaps it was the fact that he was willing to let others do most of the talking. Most people enjoyed to talk about themselves, Stan preferred to listen. But he made all the right noises and asked just the right number of questions to indicate he was quite engaged.

Otherwise he nursed his drinks and waited to see if his friend Jackson would keep with tradition and be home for his father's birthday.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 19:59, Mon 14 July 2014.

”Their problem, boy… Where do I start with them?” Fourth time is the charm.  Though what he intended to charm out of repeat conversation was anyone’s, including him, guess.   The story, and it got longer and more detailed every time he told it, concerned an American magazine Abraham had written for periodically while overseas whenever he needed a little extra money.  The current editor, then just another contributor to the magazine but one who worked in the New York branch office rather than roaming across Europe with little concern for punctuality, seemed to have taken Abraham’s shortcomings personally.  Now, Abraham let those he’d spoken to know he held no personal malice toward the man, and the journalistic vendetta being spewed out in a series of one-sided editorial arguments was complete hateful rubbish from a hack.  Thus far without fail the conversation had ended with Abraham discovering his tumbler mysteriously empty and him sauntering off to find a bottle of wine or hard liquor, whichever he came across first, and not much clue to who he’d just shared his tale with.

Abraham had arrived neither early nor late to Dr. Leonardo Elias’s birthday party.  He showed up in a navy Chevrolet Superior, thoroughly pleased that the owner of the vehicle, a close friend of his who’d been delighted to lend him a hand while he stayed in New York, opted for a hard top.  He hadn’t missed winter in the Northeast.  No, not at all.  He planned poorly, choosing to come home at the beginning of fall and staying through the winter.  He should have worked it out the other way, coming to New York in the spring or summer so he could return to the Mediterranean in the cool but not obscenely cold autumn.

At the start of the afternoon, Abraham had been cordial, making easy conversation with friends, relatives, and people he only knew from the party.  He might have been making the rounds with a tumbler containing maybe half of its original contents when some word or phrase brought the editor’s offense to the front of his mind and he had no choice but to share the story with the person he’d been in conversation with at that moment.  The Volstead Act—had there ever been a bigger joke?   Brought back to the present, Abraham stood with his glass refilled, slowly recounting his actions over the past hour.  Abraham swore under his breath.  His eyes drifted down to the amber liquid in his glass.  Were those folks with the Temperance Society on to something?  The sympathetic thought lasted about half a second before it died as the liquor hit his tongue.

Leo went from conversation to conversation with a smile on his face, happy to see his friends and family enjoying his hospitality. He realized that the holidays had just recently concluded with raucous New Year's celebrations a couple weeks before, but New York winters being what they were, another excuse to take some time off and enjoy it with family was certainly welcome.

Between conversations, Leo looked across the room at his wife, Catherine, who had aged quite gracefully as well. Her brilliant smile still lit up the room and made the days he spent at home remarkably pleasant. His brothers also usually made several appearances over his birthday week, and this was no exception. They used some of the time to discuss the family shipping business, left to them by their parents. Donnie spent the most time on the business, but to his credit still included his brothers in many of the decisions. It was rare that Leo and Mike disagreed with him, but it happened on occasion. The brothers still got on well, even after all these years. Like most men, their disagreements were left safely in the past once they had occurred.

Also in attendance were several of his cousins of various sorts. They ran the gamut from successful to not, but all were good to see a few times a year. Every single one enjoyed a good drink (or even a bad one) and could hold their own in conversation. Particularly when they were enjoying a drink. Leo glanced down at his own glass and realized that he had hardly partaken. Given his age, that was probably a good thing. The cigar he had planned for the even also remained uncut in his breast pocket, but that didn't put a damper on his mood either - rather it reinforced how much he was enjoying simply being around loved ones.

A few of his esteemed colleagues had also dropped by today, though some of the less esteemed had already departed the premises, and Leo was at the door wishing Dr. John Anderson a good evening. He turned to scan the room to see who was lacking conversation and possibly interested in such, when he discovered several in that disturbing situation. He planned to rectify that situation as well as he could, and started by approaching Annabel. "Good evening, Annabel. I trust you've enjoyed yourself?"

    Annabel watched with a bit of surprise on her face as her employer approached her. Other than greeting her at the door, she had seen very little of him. Now that most of the guests were gone, he had more time to focus on those that were left. She gave him a beautiful smile and nodded. "It was wonderful, thank you for inviting me. I have to admit though, I was a little surprised; after all, I'm only your assistant." She looked a little bemused at that.

Leo smirked a little at Annabel's apparent surprise, and averted his eyes to the cuffs of his brown tweed suit coat, which he adjusted to show the correct amount of starched shirt cuff at his wrists. Once his remarkably steady hands had finished their delicate work, he again met Annabel's eyes. "I enjoy having the chance to spend time socializing with interesting folks outside of our routine encounters. It provides me with the opportunity to establish connections with them beyond those required by obligation - be it familial or professional. You were given the week off without strings attached, and I certainly hope you came here for reasons other than a feeling of professional obligation. Besides, Miss Ashcroft, you are not an ordinary assistant, and I am fortunate to have someone of your quality to care for the affairs of my office. Were you a vapid woman with little intellectual curiosity and no ability to make conversation, I would not have extended the invitation."

He briefly looked around at those still in attendance, and then back to his assistant. "Have you had the chance to meet those that remain? Mister Hargrove has spent no small amount of time in France - if you haven't had the chance to make his acquaintance, I imagine you'd find conversation with him quite stimulating and possibly amusing." Leo had briefly extended a hand toward Abraham as he made the suggestion, though awaited Annabel's reply rather than making any sort of insistent movement that would force the issue.

      Annabel watched Dr. Elias's movements, admiring the man's elegance despite herself. She knew it was silly, he was twice her age after all; almost as old as her father, and way too old for her. But then again she did know some young ladies around her age who had taken older men for various reasons..... She pushed the thought out of her mind, slightly embarrassed for even thinking about it. She hoped the good Doctor did not notice anything.

   She gave a demure smile at his compliment. "How kind of you to say so sir. I find your work very interesting and I do try to do my best. As for being vapid, that's one of the reasons I left home. I did not want to be THAT kind of girl and I am glad to hear that I display no evidence of it."

  "As to your question," she continued, "I have engaged some of the guests in small talk but I do not believe Mr. Hargrove has been one of them. He's been to France you say? Maybe I will take your advice then." She stopped for a moment, then turned to face the Doctor again. "Tell me Dr. Elias, do you think that you may travel again anytime soon? Maybe get away from this weather, it's been awfully harsh this winter an it's only started. I for one would not mind a more temperate climate."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:56, Tue 15 July 2014.

Walter paid the cabbie and lifted his valise from the back seat. His duffel and cases he had checked at Grand Central Terminal. The Crescent Limited had been delayed between Baltimore and Philadelphia, so he had missed the luncheon, making due with a club sandwich and pie aboard the train. Still, he wanted to wish Uncle Leo happy birthday and there would probably be some good liquor to celebrate with.

His tropics-acclimated blood was too thin and his topcoat too light for the frigid New York weather; he shivered as he hurried up the front steps and rang the bell. He couldn’t remember the Elias’s butler’s name and wasn’t sure it was the same man from over a dozen years ago, so he just gave his name and couldn’t see any indication that it rang any bells in the rigidly correct man who took his coat and hat and refrained from looking askance at his somewhat worn, off-the-rack suit. I guess you don’t get many of these in this house, Bo thought.

Still he was admitted to the drawing room and stopped at the bar to get a very good pre-Volstead rye with soda. He was headed for the roaring fire when he spotted Leo in conversation with a very beautiful young woman across the room. Draining half the glass, he made his way toward them.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:39, Tue 15 July 2014.

 There—there across the floor.  Abraham, tumbler still in hand, caught sight of their host, Dr. Elias, in mid conversation with a woman who was without a doubt the most beautiful young lady Abraham had seen in, well, at this point in the afternoon he should’ve been able to come up with a sufficiently creative hyperbole but the Muses were plainly under siege by a tribe of barbaric Gauls out on the fringes of the Empire making all communication impossible.  Had they… had they met already?  Abraham squinted, combing his memory of the past several hours for any trace of recognition. Surely they hadn’t.  He would’ve remembered meeting her.  Abraham could admit he’d had a bit of alcohol since arriving, but he knew he couldn’t be drunk.  The last time that happened… Today was the fifteenth so that made it fifteen days ago.  Besides, he was only at the repeating the same story over and over again stage, not the giggling at the end of every sentence stage.  God help him.  This would be his last.  He made it a promise to himself.  The next glass would contain nothing but water.

Among the other familiar faces, Abraham saw some of his other cousins and distant relations.  Leonardo’s son had brought the Hargrove line back to the old trunk with Jackson mentoring Abraham’s literary talents since he’d been in his teens.   Abraham had made it halfway to Leo and the young woman at his side when he caught his cousin Walter making headway on the same course.  His lips quirked into a friendly smile which he shared with all present.  ”Leo, it’s delightful to see you once again.  I be remise if I came all this way and I forgot to wish you happy birthday.”  He said cheerfully.  ”Walter, Bo, how are you?” Abraham raised his glass to Walter in salute.  ”To Mister Andrew Volstead, aged five years and worth every second.  A dry nation, our friends on the other side of the Atlantic should take note of our success.”

”Doctor, I don’t think I’ve met the young lady.  Could I trouble you for an introduction?”  Abraham raised a quizzical eyebrow.  ”My name is Abraham Hargrove.”

The soft smooth sounds of Everybody Loves My Baby drifted from the rosewood victrola as Rosalie changed the record.  She wasn't certain how fond her uncle was of George Olsen & his music, but she kept buying him records anyhow, knowing that they'd get plenty of use at parties and family dinners.  It was always a challenge to see who she might entice to do a bit of dancing, which had always been one of her favorite vices.  As she moved through the room, she couldn't help but notice the look that her uncle threw her aunt, and it made her smile.

Even after so many years of marriage, her parents still looked at one another in that same fashion.  Perhaps it was the charm of Elias men.  She hoped, perhaps, that one day she might find the right man to shower with adoration and happiness.  In her youth, starting a family and bearing children seemed far too daunting a task for a young girl that enjoyed travel and adventure.  She recalled the days of she and her mother being dragged into places most desolate, faithfully following her father's  work.  While she had enjoyed the adventures immensely, she had a nagging suspicion that her mother much preferred the comfortable life they now led, with hearth and home stationary and stable.  To Rosalie, it was beginning to feel rather stifling.  The bitter cold winter had her longing for warm Italian villas and Grecian isles.

After refreshing her glass, the young woman drifted over to where Stanley stood nursing his drink.  Of course, being privy to the goings on of the Elias household, Rosalie was quite aware of his situation and well acquainted with his son.  Having not had the opportunity before then, she smiled softly and offered her hand in greeting.  "Mister Bishop, it is very nice to see you again.  It has been quite some time, has it not?  I was very pleased to see that you were able to return for Uncle's birthday.  Are you having a gay time?"

-----

Song Reference: http://youtu.be/R5kMFf7CsSs
This message was last edited by the player at 03:57, Tue 15 July 2014.

Well recommended from friends across the pond, Lawrence Avery had traveled to America several years ago to serve as a valet, a gentleman's personal gentleman, to Dr. Leonardo Elias. Though at times dour, he had a sharp and dry wit, and put his keen faculties to use in assisting Dr. Elias with various and sundry matters when needed in addition to running many household matters for the busy physician.

At the present moment, he made his way towards his employer, clutching a paper in hand. "Sir, I beg your pardon, but a message has arrived for you by way of telegram, and I think it is something you may wish to read," he intoned, offering the paper in the noted physician's direction.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:16, Tue 15 July 2014.

Bishop was speechless for a moment "Ah .. yes a gay time."

"It has been .. too long Miss Rosalie." Bishop said extending his large hand which engulfed hers. Seeing Rosalie was always difficult, despite only being cousins she favored Eleanor greatly, almost twins. Seeing her Bishop felt like a like a cold knife had been stuck in his heart. Bishop was grateful had long ago mastered the skill of concealing his emotions.

"I know I am a bit of a stiff, but please call me Stanley or even better Stan." Stan said mustering a smile. He mad managed to gain control of himself and took a sip of his whiskey.

"I hope you family is well." Stanley said hoping to shift the conversation in a direction in which Rosalie would do most of the talking.

As they spoke Bishop noticed Avery delivering what he over heard to be a telegram to his master Leonardo Elias. Likely from someone wishing him a happy birthday. But Stan could not help but watch him to see his reaction to the telegram out of habit.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:31, Tue 15 July 2014.

"If I'm to call you Stan, then you must call me Rosalie.  But please, no Rose or Rosie." She wrinkled her nose playfully.  Her grip was firm, but her hands were soft and warm.  "My family is quite well, thank you.  Mother and father were hear earlier, as I'm sure you saw, but I believe they've retreated upstairs for a bit of a nap before dinner."

"I believe that you are employed by the Pinkerton agency, correct?  How do you find it?"  Oblivious to his discomfort, she seemed determined to draw him into conversation.

"I only spoke with them briefly. I am glad they are well .. Rosalie." Bishop said. As usual her father had spoken to him in Arabic. Bishop had picked it up during his time in the marines, and Michael Elias enjoyed giving him a chance to dust it off.

"The work suits me, keeps me from being trapped behind a desk." Stan replied. The truth was it did suit him. Between the war and his wife's death Bishop needed to be busy all the time. but more than that he welcomed the chance the job offered to loose his rage. He was not something Bishop was very proud of, nor was he ashamed of it, it was just true.

"What about you?" Bishop asked even as he kept an eye of Avery and Leonardo.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:38, Tue 15 July 2014.

"Ah, I have been consulting with several organizations within the city, but the new acquisitions at the Metropolitan Museum of Art have taken up most of my time.  Their current curator is determined to grow their Egyptian collection this year by at least twenty percent and they don't yet have an expert on staff.  Greece was my last overseas venture, but that was several months ago." She eyed him curiously.  "Might I ask what you have been working on with the Pinkertons?  I understand it can be rather dangerous, but I have always been curious."

    Setting her drink down, Annabel rose and gave a grateful curtsey, another of the things she had her mother to thank for. She proffered her hand. "Annabel Ashcroft, It is a pleasure to meet you sir. The good Doctor here has been telling me something about you; don't worry, it's good." She gave an amused smile at that.

    She looked with interest as the servant approached. Now I wonder what that could be, I hope it's not bad news.

"Happy birthday, Leo," Walter said, extending his hand to his uncle, "It's Walter Brandon." After so many years without meeting -- years during which he knew how much his appearance had changed -- Walter wasn't sure his uncle would recognize him. If he was going to succeed in his reason for coming to New York, it was best to avoid any confusion.

The intrusion of a more-than-slightly inebriated fellow threw him a bit off his stride for a moment. Although the man greeted him by name, he couldn't place him immediately. Probably a family member, but it was a large family. Just as another man arrived with a telegram he insisted Leo read, Walter murmured some general pleasantry: "Good to see you again. How long's it been?" He raised his glass to his lips in response to the man's toast.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:55, Tue 15 July 2014.

Just moments after Leo had gestured toward Abraham, the man came towards him as if he had read Leo's mind, or at least his intentions. Leo nodded at the offered birthday wishes with a smile. "Thanks!" Leo grunted at the toast offered by Abraham, but sipped a bit of his scotch regardless. At Abraham's suggestion, he turned to introduce him to Annabel only to discover that Annabel was introducing herself. He closed his gaping mouth after only a moment's pause then turned toward his trusted valet, Lawrence who had requested Leo attend an apparently important matter. Leo withdrew a few steps from the Annabel/Abraham conversation to see what Lawrence might have discovered.

Leonardo read the missive once, then cocked his head slightly to the side and read it through again, this time punctuating the last sentence with a smile. He slid a few more steps toward Catherine and handed her the telegram so that she could read it when she had a break in the conversation.

He then returned to see Bo striding toward him, greeting his nephew with a smile. He took the offered hand and gave it a firm shake. "Thank you, Walter." The man had certainly changed a bit, his face now weathered by travel, but his eyes were still the same as Leo recalled from Walter's youth. "It's great to see you again! What brings you back to these parts? Not just an old man's birthday, I suspect."

Walter managed a grin for his uncle. "I guess I thought I was homesick," he said, "But then I got a load of the weather and now I'm not so sure.

"I am glad to be here to wish you many happy returns though."

He began a slow scan around the room, asking, "Say, where's Jackson?"

Leo nodded at his nephew, agreeing with all that he said. "The frigid temperatures when the days are short provide greater appreciation of the warmth when daylight is in abundance. As for Jackie - he hasn't yet returned, but I do expect him to make an appearance. He nearly always does."

Leo raised an eyebrow as his face turned inquisitive. "I know you've been away a bit, but have you kept up with the news of your old squad? That Koppisch and Gehrig pairing in the backfield has been quite potent."

Abraham left little doubt with his less than subtle remarks that his recent thoughts about giving up on scotch for the rest of the afternoon would be advisable.  Poor behavior under the influence might easily turn habitual.  Abraham wouldn’t be the first among his generation to succumb to alcoholism.  Wasn’t it better to be boisterous and more than a tad crass than perpetually dower?  However, Abraham’s faculties had begun to suffer, his humor and good sense to keep a inane remark from slipping out of his mouth included.

He found himself smiling easily.  The past was like the carcass of a fallen comrade he carried over his shoulder, marching onward through the new world with the reek of despair and disaster whipping at his nose.  Alcohol helped.  ”I do so hope he has.” Abraham replied. ”Some of the things that have been getting back to me have not been pleasant.” His voice was tinged with the syllabic lilt of alcohol.  ”I think that I need to sit down before,” he hickuped, closing his eyes and shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear his thoughts before continuing, ”I do something terrible.”  However, he didn’t immediately go to sit down.  ”Annabel, I’m afraid I might have worn out any good will Leo’s words earned me.  Please, I am sorry.”  If he could keep his apology from repeating itself over and over again, he’d be making good progress.  Abraham caught one of the Doctor’s staff as they were passing nearby and while handing his glass over asked if he could get some water and something from the kitchen.  How many social faux pas could he make in one afternoon? ”Miss Ashcroft, if I could ask, how do you know the Doctor?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:46, Tue 15 July 2014.

  Annabel watched the stranger's antics unsure of what to do. Back home if something like this happened at a function, Mother would whisk her precious daughters away like a protective mother hen. But there was no mother now, only Annabel herself and her sense, of which she had common or none had yet to be determined. Sighing, she gave Mr. Hargrove a sympathetic smile and said a bit chidingly. "Mr. Hargrove I know the wine is good, but I think it might be a good idea to stop for now, or else you might fall over and forget you had ever met me. and that would be an awful shame, for you that is," giving him a mirthful look. "Come, sit here," gesturing at the chair she had just relinquished. "Maybe some coffee and something to eat would help. To answer your question, I am his assistant, helping him out with his work."

"It is mostly watching , waiting and paperwork." Bishop said. It was mostly true. Though there were times when things were far more exciting. He had learned that while people think that his business was very exciting the truth was if they learned the truth they generally found it either dull or were repulsed by the violence involved. "But more interesting than practicing law."

"I am glad to hear you followed in your father's footsteps. I always enjoyed seeing ancient places when I was in the corps. Saw some amazing places. Bet you have seen some wonderful things." Bishop said again shifting the conversation back to her.

Already keeping an eye on Dr. Elias, Bishop could not help but notice that one of those in attendance had already imbibed too much.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:10, Wed 16 July 2014.

There wasn’t any way he could argue with her.  Okay, so that statement didn’t give him credit.  When he chose, Abraham could be quite persuasive. Faith, here’s an equivocator. And so on and so on.  God bless the Bard.   In this case, Abraham knew one side of the argument held a favorable outcome and other… it wasn’t so bad being a fool.  Laughter, even when laughing alone, could extinguish all sorts of troubling reminders.

Gratefully, he sat down, a weak smile on his lips and eyes glazed with a watery film familiar to many who frequented the city’s illicit speakeasies.  Although one could claim to forget everything done while under the influence, sometimes one’s antics remained behind and even though one claimed to forget, the shame of memory with give the lie to that statement.  ”Thank you, Miss Ashcroft.  A shame, yes, I’m sure it would be.” His gaze steadied on a lamp on the other side of the room.  ”Coffee after the water.  This may shock you, but this isn’t the first time I’ve got like this.”  Abraham switched tracks.  ”Ah, a fine occupation.  His practice has been around for some time.  There is a lot you could learn from him though the patience you’re bringing will no doubt be a great asset.  How do you like the work?”

"Yes, some very wonderful things.  But most do not realize that studying archeological finds is mostly cleaning, cataloging, and paperwork.  I could go on and on about vases, urns, and ancient tablets, but it would likely bore you to tears." She paused as she took another sip of wine, briefly glancing to the others in the room.  When she turned back to Stan, there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.  "My uncle loves the attention, you know.  He always enjoys these parties so much, especially when old friends show up.  I am glad that you were free and could come.  Did you take time off from work to be here or are you between assignments?"

Taking the telegram from her husband, with a soft touch on his hand as he passed, she finished up her conversation and went over to stand next to the fireplace to read it and see what had made her husband smile so. As she read its contents, she found herself smiling as well, walking back over to her husband's side in time to hear Walter's question.

"Well, apparently in New York," she said aloud.

"Jackson is scheduled to arrive today - though I daresay, he'll likely be off again soon on some witch hunt or another," she said playfully, obviously feigning indignation at her son's soon to be arrival and subsequent absence, though it was clear that her voice was full of warmth and a mother's love.

"It says here he's onto something about that Carlyle Expedition, and that he's asking his father to put together an investigative team. Here, have a look," she said, holding out the message for whoever would have it.

---

Everyone make a Know roll, and post your results here in small Aqua text.

When using the Dice Roller, please label your rolls using the Reason for Roll box. When making a d100 roll, please note what you are rolling, and what your skill is. For example, if you have a Credit Rating of 65 and you're rolling it, the dice roller should read similar to the following format:
18:14, Today: Jackson Elias rolled 27 using 1d100 with rolls of 27. Credit Rating (65).

This lets me easily look at the roll and see whether you passed or failed.
This message was last updated by the player at 03:37, Wed 16 July 2014.

"I don't know I am getting to be a bit of a relic myself." Bishop said dryly. But as he spoke he realized he was enjoying this chat. That made him feel a bit guilty.

"Growing up in this house I always loved these parties. I was not up here, but there were always lots of leftovers and Jackson and I always managed to have some fun. I remember coming home a newly commissioned officer and Leonardo throwing a party in my honor .." Stan said remembering the night fondly. He had seen Eleanor many times before that day, but that was the first time they had spoken.

But Catherine's word cut off Bishop's words.

20:58, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 36 using 1d100 with rolls of 36. knowledge test 65.

The news that Jackson was in town was welcome. Bishop had hoped to see his old friend. It had been too long.

The mention of the Carlyle Expedition was not really a surprise. Jackson always had his nose into something.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:05, Wed 16 July 2014.

She followed Stanley's attention to her Aunt and the telegraph she held.  One eyebrow quirked.  "The Carlyle Expedition?  What has he gotten himself into now?"

Eyes on Stanley again, she smirked.  "Jackson always has a way of dragging people into having fun whether they like it or not.  He also has a way of getting himself and everyone around him into trouble."



21:17, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 20 using 1d100 with rolls of 20. Knowledge (85).

"Aunt Catherine--" Walter began as she joined them, but was unable to continue. He had forgotten how much his mother had resembled her. Had she lived, she might have looked very like her sister, Jackson's mother.

When she returned to reveal the contents of the telegram, he had mastered his emotions enough to say: "You're looking marvelously well, Aunt Catherine."

"I knew Jackson planned to be here today," he added as others expressed their surprise, "I had a letter from him saying he'd have a proposition for me if I could be here. I could use the work."


00:18, Today: Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 52 using 1d100 for Know 60.

Stan looked at Rosalie and replied "He does seem to have a gift for it."

"Doctor Elias, sounds like it is right down my alley. When do we start?" Bishop said as he put down his glass and stepped forward. Bishop had a gift of his own, if there was going to be trouble he was going to be of the middle of it.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:50, Wed 16 July 2014.

In reply to Abraham Hargrove (msg # 25):


   Annabel watched as Mr. Hargrove took a seat. He really didn't look too good; why do people do that to themselves she would probably never understand. Hopefully the waiter would bring that water soon. In the mean time, she humored him.

  "Really Mr. Hargrove," she said feigning surprise; "well if it makes you like this why do you do it? It can't possibly bring you much comfort."

  "To answer your question, I enjoy it well enough. I sort of fell into it, as a means to get away from my family and it has worked out well. Dr. Elias is a good person and I have learned much from him."

     She stopped as Dr. Elias's wife Catherine read the telegram. It was good news for the family. This expedition sounded interesting but it was nothing she would end up dealing with; others though looked more keen to find out more.

  "That's good news for the family isn't it Mr. Hargrove. Do you think you might be interested in that expedition; maybe you can lend a hand."


07:04, Today: Annabel Ashcroft rolled 13 using 1d100 with rolls of 13. know (60).

As his wife appeared ready to make known the contents of the telegram, Leo gave an Walter an apologetic look and held up a hand to forestall any further discussion of the Columbia footballers. He glided a step closer to his wife and placed a supportive hand on the small of her back as she divulged the information concerning their son.

He looked at the others as they heard the news, and his face registered surprise when some of those in attendance began to volunteer. He was particularly interested in the fact that Walter knew that Jackson planned to return today.

"When do we get started? Well...he's requesting that I assemble an investigative team for him, though I daresay I could use some help with that. Though honestly, if he's going to be here today I don't imagine there's much more that I can assemble before the evening is out. I'm happy that I'll be able to present at least two that have offered their services. I wonder why there was a two day delay in the delivery of this telegram, it was dated the thirteenth..." Leo's face became clouded, then he frowned briefly before he shrugged.

"Yes, I think that Stanley and Walter make an excellent and reliable investigative team. As for dear Rosie's comments about his penchant for danger, he's never really gotten himself into that much trouble, has he?" The question was mostly rhetorical, though Leo did pause a moment to see if anyone disagreed. "At any rate, he should be here soon and he can sort it out. If any of you know of other reliable people, let me know who they might be. I can create a list of possibilities for Jackie so that he can begin assemblage of his team quickly. But hopefully not until he shares a drink with his old man."


_{07:50, Today: Dr. Leonardo Elias rolled 28 using 1d100 with rolls of 28. Know (75)}

"I do find it interesting that he's asking for a team. He usually likes to do this sort of thing on his own. He writes to us, but he usually won't even tell his mother what he's working on till he has already written the book! If he's letting people in on something before he writes it...that'll be a rare thing indeed," she said.

”You’re an educated woman, Miss Ashcroft.   I like people, I like the company of others, but surely, surely you’ve seen people trying to cheat you out of experiencing their personality.  Part of living is being frightened of forgetting the right lines.  A drink is near the most comforting companion I’ve ever met, with a few exceptions.”  Abraham replied, gesturing with his hands to emphasis his words.

When someone brought him a glass of water, Abraham offered his thanks multiple times.  An order of straight black would be out soon enough, or so the staff member assured Abraham.  No matter, so long as Abraham hydrated himself before drinking coffee.  Hydration would speed the process immensely, as would food, and the coffee would keep him from wanting to drift off to sleep on one of Dr. Elias’s sofas. He’d want to get up and walk around, get his body moving and his blood flowing after the coffee.  A little light exorcise would do him some good about now.

”That experience will be valuable, maybe more valuable than formal education.” However, the conversation around them had begun to change subjects as those gathered nearby Leo and Catherine began chatting about the news that had recently arrived by telegram.

”As much of a help as Jackson’s been to me through the years, ah, coffee?” Abraham tossed back what was left of the water and looked around for the man who claimed he was getting him something more to drink.  ”Weren’t they—the Carlyle crew—bound for Egypt?  Though, if memory serves—coffee.” Abraham’s eyes lit up with something like childish glee at the sight of steam rising out of the mug being ferried his way on a saucer by one of Leo’s people.  ”There was a horrible incident in Africa.  I don’t believe anyone survived.  At the very least, I’d like to see what Jackson has been doing since our last correspondence.”

_{14:31, Today: Abraham Hargrove rolled 45 using 1d100 with rolls of 45. Know (70).}
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 19:29, Wed 16 July 2014.

     Annabel paused, not sure of what to say to that. She waited until Mr. Hargrove quenched his thirst then said. "In my own way, yes, I have been nervous, anxious, though frightened might be too harsh of a word, in certain social situations. But I'm afraid being of the fairer sex as well as one of the so called upper classes; I don't get the luxury of using drink to deal with my nerve. I think it is better dealing with them then the wrath of my Mother if I had displayed drunkenness in public and damaged the Family's reputation." She shook her head at that, looking amused at the thought of her mother reacting.

  She was glad to see the coffee finally arrive. Hopefully it would help the poor man. When he talked about the Carlyle's Annabel nodded.

"Yes, I believe so, a tragedy it was. It was in all the society papers and all anyone talked about for a while. People speculating what happened, all kinds of crazy theories. I guess we'll never know the real truth. So you know Jackson then, what's he like, anything like his father?"

"Since Jack is in town best we meet with him. Given what happened to the Carlyle Expedition and where, it is likely that this investigation will require a bunch of gumshoes. If we need men of that type I am able to recommend a number."

Bishop addressed Dr Elias "If Jack is in town and here is not here, maybe he is held up by weather. Did he mention if he is on the way?"

This message was last edited by the player at 02:37, Thu 17 July 2014.

Walter clears his throat. "I know he was in London about a month ago. Leastways that was the postmark on my letter. I figured if he wanted me it meant the tropics.

"If it's the Carlyle bunch, I expect that means Cairo and Kenya. That's not my patch exactly, but Jackson knows he can count on me for anything." He takes a healthy swallow of his drink.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:35, Thu 17 July 2014.

Abraham sipped warm coffee.  He slipped his hand inside of his formal coat and he’d pulled the flask halfway out when he became aware of what he was about to do.  He glanced sheepishly at the shiny metal container he’d been about to crack open and pour into his coffee before pushing it back inside his coat.  ”That’s a little naïve. You see, I usually find that the ladies of that caliber tend to drink almost as much as I do, but they are much better at hiding it.”

”I read about the expedition it the paper while in Paris.”  Near the start of his stay in Paris that would have been.  ”The article appeared in the paper around five years ago.  I’d have thought with Carlyle family’s modest resources one of their relatives would’ve acted.” Like sending a second team, perhaps hiring some mercenaries or adventurers to recover what they could, save whatever archeological data remained for science, and possibly get a little vengeance for the fallen.  Perhaps they had done something like that but kept word of it out of the papers.  ”Yes, we’re… distant cousins.  I could draw you a chart if you need an exact reference.  He’s been quite helpful through the years, assisting me with critiques, tips, and suggestions.  Granted, his work is strictly nonfiction.  Harder to say.  I know him better than I know Leo.”  Abraham put his palm against his forehead over a spot that was beginning to ache.

Catherine placed a motherly hand on her nephew's shoulder for just a moment. "It seems you've the better of it than we do, Walter. We haven't heard from him for longer than that. And you're looking quite well yourself, if unrested. You should stay with us for a bit."

       Annabel looked at him with a bit of surprise on her pretty face. "You don't say? Now that I think about it that would explain a lot of some of the behavior that I have seen from some of the ladies of my acquaintance." She blushed slightly, "as you see Mr. Hargrove; Mother did her job a little too well, sheltering her daughters from the 'wickedness' of the world, and I am now only getting to experience it for better or worse. I will do my best to deal with it but I fear that I may make the wrong decision time and again. If I do, I will deal with it to the best of my ability."

  Annabel's eyes widened at the revelation of the kinship between the two men. "Really Mr. Hargrove? Why it is a small world after all. No doubt you will be pleased to see your cousin again; has it been a very long time?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:59, Thu 17 July 2014.

In reply to Catherine Elias (msg # 40):

Walter's smile was very grateful: "Thank you, Aunt Catherine. It would please me very much to impose on your hospitality for a few days, if you truly don't mind."

To be among family again... an unlooked-for benevolence considering his father's disgrace. He finished his brandy and used the empty glass as an excuse to walk away for a moment.

Leo listened with interest at Walter's commentary about the postmark on Jackson's telegram, then nodded his assent at his wife's suggestion. "Certainly you should stay here - we've plenty of space. I'll have Lawrence bring your bags upstairs." He then nodded at his valet, knowing the man would take care of things appropriately and efficiently.

"Yes, of course sir," he said in response to the doctor's statement about getting Walter's bags seen to.

Before he could take any steps towards that end, the telephone rang, and he went to answer it, as was custom.

"Good evening, Elias residence," the valet said, pausing.

"Yes? Mr. Jackson, sir, yes, one moment, sir," he said, moving the receiver from his ear.

"Dr. Elias, sir, your son is on the line." He held the phone for Leo to take.

Leo quickly moved to where Lawrence held the phone for him and put the earpiece to his ear. "Jackson? It's your father."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:38, Thu 17 July 2014.

The noise of someone speaking could be heard through the receiver, though the words were only audible to Leo.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:18, Thu 17 July 2014.

"I just have a small valise with me tonight, Lawrence," he said quietly to the man, "My other things are checked at the Grand Central. I'll pick them up tomorrow."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:49, Thu 17 July 2014.

While the others talked and speculated, Rosalie settled on the chaise near the fire, sipping quietly at her wine.  Her eyes drifted to the flames while she drew up fond memories of Roger Carlyle and his charming attempts to win her affections.  He had only been a silly boy then, and hardly serious about pursuing her, but she hadn't minded the attention in the slightest.  "I remember when Carlyle's expedition left for Egypt," she mused aloud.  "I desperately wanted to go along, but was tied to other projects at the time.  After we heard of their disappearance, I counted myself lucky for staying behind."

Falling silent again, she rested her chin in her hand as she waited for her uncle to finish his conversation, glad that Jackson had decided to at least ring them.  Privately, however, she thought it very ill mannered of him to steal the limelight on his father's birthday.

"Just like Jackson, isn't it?" asks Walter, as he stands by the chaise that Rosalie occupies, reading her thoughts from her face and their old association, "He could have arrived yesterday or tomorrow and accomplished his business, but that just wouldn't be enough attention for our cher cousin, now would it?"

He passes her an affectionate, if slightly rueful smile: "How have you been, Rosalie?"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 10:56, Thu 17 July 2014.

Leo pressed a hand to the ear that wasn't trying to listen to Jackson and concentrated on what his son was saying. "It's good to hear from you, too, Jackson! I just received the telegram today, but already have two members of a team for you as Walter and Stanley were both in attendance. How many people do you want, and what sorts of skills? And when are you going to be here? Your mother is quite excited to see you again."

Chin tipping upward a fraction, she cast her attention upon Walter.  A knowing, though slightly guilty smile tugged at her lips.  "I was not going to speak ill of our cousin, but you know where my thoughts lie.  It is good to see you, Bo.  It has been far too long.  How have you been?"  She offered her free hand in greeting.

Again, a voice through the receiver.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:55, Thu 17 July 2014.

In reply to Rosalie Elias (msg # 51):

"Well, I've never got rich, but I'm still around," said Bo with a shrug, "I've been places and done things, but I felt like it was time to come home while I still can.

"You look great, by the way. Never married?"

As he listened to Jackson, Leo made affirmative noises in all the right places, and when Jackson provided him with instructions, Leo made writing motions with his hand and expected Lawrence to bring him a writing instrument and paper. Once he had those in hand, he repeated back Jackson's instructions while he wrote. "Right, 8 o'clock at the Chelsea, room 410. I'll bring those interested, plus your mother who deserves at least a hello and a kiss on the cheek, I should say. Stanley also seems to know some number of other gumshoes that might bolster your number, though perhaps not on such short notice. It will be good to see you soon, son." He waited to see if there was any more instruction or response from Jackson, or if the boy would hang up the phone.

He also wrote down: libraries, archives, curiosity, wits, guts.

A few more words, before the call was disconnected.

---

Leonardo, make a Psychology roll.

"See you then, bye now!" Leo closed the connection on his end as well.

Leo looked down and reviewed his notes before raising his eyes again to look at those around him. "Seems he is looking for more than a pair of fellows to help him on his work, happy as he is to hear that Walter and Stanley are on board. He wants us to meet him around 8 at Hotel Chelsea. It's a little bit of a drive." Leo pulled out his pocket watch from a pocket on his tweed vest, looked at it and put it back.

"He also mentioned a need for anyone that knows their way around libraries and archives, or even those with any sort of wits or guts. Sounds like quite an interesting adventure he's got planned."

<sub>11:00, Today: Dr. Leonardo Elias rolled 42 using 1d100 with rolls of 42. Psychology (75).

OOC: Also, what time is it right now?</sub>

OOC: Right now, it's around 4:00 pm. The Hotel Chelsea is probably about a half hour drive in good conditions, maybe closer to an hour in this weather.

One caveat to his earlier remark, and one which he would be keeping to himself because even if weaving through the vines of inelegant conversation were routine Abraham could on occasion keep his mouth shut, those who didn’t, Abraham guessed a fair percentage qualified, were likely to find solace in the refuge of another institution.  Normally, this inclination tended toward creating fussy and invasive behavior.  ”What a noble and honorable decision.  It takes a certain kind of devotion to build a perfect cage around one’s children.  I can’t say my own mother was all too different, except the cage was left a little to one of the windows.  There’s worse out there and sins come in different sizes.  There’s a place in Midtown you must visit.  If for no other reason than to understand some of your patients.”  But again, the conversation was shifting toward talk of Jackson’s team.”Are you married, Miss Ashcroft?”

”Devoted to his work,” Abraham dropped his hand away from his forehead as some of the pain disapaited allowing him to clear his thoughts so he finally could give some detail about his opinion of Jackson’s personality.  ”More than five years.  After the War, I only stayed in New York for a few weeks and then boarded a ship back to Europe.”  Abraham went silent and listened to the others gathered nearby.  ”Have you given any consideration to the offer, Annabel? I was a little busy with my education,” Abraham chuckled to himself at the word as if it were part of some sort of private joke, ”the last time Jackson called for a team and from what I heard about the Amazon, I missed out on a great opportunity.”
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 17:41, Thu 17 July 2014.

  This Mr. Hargrove seemed to have lived a bit of the same life as she in his younger days. But did leaving it bring him to this state sooner or later she wondered. And was she glimpsing her future of she went down a similar path? Annabel did not like where her thoughts were headed and concentrated on something else.

   "No Mr. Hargrove," she said with a shake of her head, "I am not married, in fact avoiding marriage is one of the reasons I became Dr. Elias's assistant. It's a long story, one I won't bore you with; but I would rather see the world than be stuck in a sitting room as some man's pretty trophy."

  She took a drink finishing off her wine as she listened to Dr. Elias request people for Jackson's little jaunt. She was surprised when Hargrove asked her if she was joining.

  "Me Mr. Hargrove?" She gave a slight laugh. "What could I contribute to that little group? I am merely an assistant barely escaped from her dear Mother's embrace. I am not the equal of those who have explored and seen the wonders of the world. Sadly I fear I would just slow the group down if I went."

   Annabel looked a little forlorn when she said that. "I am sure though you will go, you don't want to miss out again at one of his expeditions."

This message was last edited by the player at 18:17, Thu 17 July 2014.

"No, I never married.  Nearly, once," she replied to Walter.  "But his wandering eyes led to wandering hands and several indiscretions with other women while we were engaged.  Better to break it off than to suffer through marriage with a man that could not love me enough to be faithful."  She banished the painful memory with a dismissive wave of her hand.  "Besides, I have been far too busy these past few years to worry about starting a family.  There has simply been too much of the world to see." 

Her words sounded a little hollow, even to herself.  In her youth, she'd been too preoccupied to worry about marriage.  Her family was wealthy enough that she needed not worry about living a comfortable life, and as she was an only child and female, there was no need for her to further the Elias name.  She would inherit her father's estate no matter her situation.  Now, however, as her age continued to creep upward, the opportunities of her youth had long since disappeared.

Thankful for her uncle's appearance and announcement, she gave him her full attention.  "I shall go along with the party, if only to see Jackson.  What time did you wish to depart?  I would like to change before we leave the house, and you cannot drag Annabel out into the cold in her evening dress."

      Annabel looked up at Rosalie when she said her name. She had grown to know her over the time she had been with Dr. Elias, and had become quite fond of the woman.
"Oh, don't worry about me Rosalie," she said, feeling a little embarrassed being focused on among the Elias family. "There's no reason for me to go, I can catch a cab back to my place."

Leo frowned and again pulled out his watch before replacing it. The time hadn't changed very much since his last check. "I should like to have the party heading toward the cars at around half-past six. He said around 8, and I wouldn't mind a bit of conversation in the lobby of Hotel Chelsea before we see Jackie should we be too early for him. In these road conditions I'd like to take the drive easy."

He looked around at those gathered mulling over who else might be willing to get involved, then responding to the other comments he had received directly or had overheard. "Jackson would be fortunate to have you, Rosie, should you choose to provide assistance. As for Annabel-"

He turned to face Annabel. "I will not compel you to join us unless you are interested in doing so. You know well that you are my assistant during business hours, but free to do as you wish outside the office. You may join us if you like - your interest in seeing the world may be sated ever-so-slightly by some of Jackson's stories. Otherwise we can drop you off wherever you like, or have you driven should your desired destination be at odds with ours."

He then looked over at Abraham. "Opportunity has come knocking again, Abraham. Is it your intention to join us as well?" Leo's Lambda seated six, but he also had other cars at his disposal.

"You all go ahead, dear," she told her husband. "All that will happen if I go is that the cold will light up my joint pains again and I'll slow everyone down. I'll see Jackson when he packs up his papers and comes home." On account of her health, Catherine rarely left home during the winter.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:13, Thu 17 July 2014.

”Your attitude and dedication are admirable.” Who was he to argue with a woman who did not want to marry?  They were in a new age.  Why look back?  Oh, he could answer his own question and one character in his novel had responded to a similarly phrased inquiring with an eloquent soliloquy.

And why shouldn’t she? ”I don’t think you’re committing to anything but a ride in a short auto by going with us now.  Leo’s got a point.  Whatever Jackson’s discovered, he’ll have a lot to tell about his travels.  And don’t underestimate your usefulness.  You’re young and you’ve a different perspective from everyone else.”

”Thornton will have words for me if I get involved,” Through the past few weeks, Abraham had been discussing a compilation of short stories with publishing agent Benjamin Thornton at Scribner’s.  Two-thirds of the shorts were pieces either written while in Paris or Algiers, with the remaining third to be written over the next several months.  ”I might have to do a little negotiating, but I can apologize over a letter after we’re underway.  Yes, I’ll come with this time.”
This message was lightly edited by the player at 19:31, Thu 17 July 2014.

  Annabel thought for a moment, then brightened; "well if you insist Dr. Elias. After all, I am your assistant and will go where I am needed in or out of the office; and after all, isn't the world your office at times?  Someone should take notes in case they're needed."

 "Well Mr. Hargrove, it looks like I am coming after all, it should be an interesting diversion from the daily life of mine. I am sure I will fine Jackson's stories fascinating." Annabel looked considerably cheered up, whether from being part of the group or just feeling useful one could not tell.

Leo blinked a couple times in silence at Annabel's response - it seemed she had heard the exact opposite of what he was intending to convey. At any rate, he was glad to see that she had brightened, so he chose not to add any more commentary on the matter.

Leo quickly looked around, and noticed for the first time that the only people that remained at the party besides the staff were his wife and the five folks that had volunteered. "There is one other thing that you should all know - Jackson seemed to be acting a bit odd when speaking with me on the telephone. For a man that is never frightened of anything, always willing to jump in where angels fear to tread, he sounded as if he were quite anxious and possibly frightened of something. I am unsure as to what the source of his anxiety might be, though I suppose I can get to the bottom of it when we see him." Leo could speculate, but chose not to voice any of his own thoughts - they would see Jackson soon enough.

Leo frowned briefly, then continued. "It's all very uncharacteristic of him, in truth. Many of you know him as being rock-steady in the face of anything. To my knowledge his make-up has not changed in the slightest over these years, so I found the conversation to be peculiar."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:59, Thu 17 July 2014.

As Elias was on the phone with Jackson, Bishop was quiet and just listened. Truth was it was all a bit odd.

When he heard the hotel mentioned, he masked his disdain. Bishop was familiar with most of the hotels in the city, and the Chelsea was no exception. It was massive Victorian hulk with a grand façade and dominated West 23rd Street. But its glory days were behind it and it's clientele were bohemians and ne'er-do-wells. It was not too much of a surprise that Jackson had selected the place.

"Dr. Elias, I have my car with me."

"I can take four people with me. The snow is really coming down so I think departing early makes good sense." Bishop said.

"Best we caravan in case we have some trouble. I have a shovel and a few boards and some sand in the trunk in case that get stuck." Stan added. His father, a long time chauffeur for the Elias family had taught him to always be prepared for such trouble. Bishop had learned the lesson well, and his trunk continued all sorts of tools for all sorts of problems.

"But if Jackson sounds shook it must be serious. Maybe we should set off now."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:24, Thu 17 July 2014.

Walter chuckles: "I know what you mean, Rosalie. I guess we've both been too busy for the ordinary joys of life and now-- Well, perhaps we'll grow old together on the shelf."

He turns to his aunt as she speaks.

"Maybe we can get him to forfeit the dubious comforts of the Chelsea and grace the familial fireside tonight, Aunt Catherine."

Taking Lawrence aside, Walter asks, "Any chance of finding a pair of galoshes for me? I don't have any and these shoes aren't meant for a New York winter, just incase we have to get out and push. Something like a size 10 should do."

"Certainly, sir. If you will but give me a few minutes, I will shortly return with such." With that, Avery departed the room briefly to locate the requested footwear.

”Are you sure it was fear you heard?” Abraham found it hard to believe.  Jackson’s research veered toward some of the darkest corners of mythology, and while Abraham had read account of terrible things done or alleged to be done by believers in odd supersiticons in his cousin’s books, the purpose of his work had been to dissipate the air of mystery, enmity, and fear surrounding the myths thus rendering them powerless.  Fear of retribution hadn’t stopped Jackson before.   There might be something else wrong but Abraham couldn’t think what it could be.

Abraham stood up, still a little wobbly, and took a sip of coffee.  ”One step at a time, Miss Ashcroft.”
This message was lightly edited by the player at 23:32, Thu 17 July 2014.

  Annabel gave the man an understanding smile. "Good idea Mr. Hargrove, I think it will be a long evening and you need your wits about you. If you will excuse me, since it looks like I am going, I need to get ready."


 Leaving Mr. Hargrove to his efforts for sobriety. Annabel headed over to the cloak room to retrieve her things. Reaching it, she collected her cold weather gear and going to a changing room, put them on. Soon she was decked out in boots, coat, scarf, hat and mittens; all ready for a trek into the bitter cold. Her fine shoes she had put into a shoe bag for protection.

 Returning to the room, Annabel waited patiently for the others to get ready.

Leo listened to what the others had to say, and frowned as he mulled it over. "It was fear, Abraham, or one of its close cousins: alarm, trepidation, distress, or dread. Though I don't think there is any reason to split hairs on the precise emotion - the effect is the same. Perhaps Stanley is correct and we should move along with all due haste. I can't speak for the rest of you, but I won't be able to sit by the fire and relax any further this evening anyway."

He turned to face his niece, "Like Miss Ashcroft, it would probably be best if you changed now as well, Rosie."

Looking then at Stanley, "Stanley, I am glad you gave voice to the suggestion to go sooner than later. I was willing to put aside my own thoughts as the emotional bias of a parent - we have always given Jackson his space, and he's generally been appreciative of our role in his life. But this seems different somehow. Thank you for volunteering to drive - I'm certain I can trust your steady hand at the wheel as I have trusted your father's all these years."

"If everyone wants to get ready I will get the car, if we get there early we can always kill time at the hotel bar. This cold weather it will need to warm up. Do we have another car? With just mine it will be a tight fit." Bishop said.

It was already getting dark and the way the snow was coming down it might take hours to get downtown. It everyone was getting to be rush hour and the streets would be getting busy.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:51, Fri 18 July 2014.

The woman was right about that, though he liked to think some of his gifts functioned at an elevated state when his wits weren’t bothering him so much.  Once the inhabitions were dropped, the words flowed more freely, peppering the page with the sort of original prose which caught his audience even before publishing his first novel.

”Then I don’t see why we should keep him waiting.  Some company, even if it’s only part of the group he requested, would ease his troubles.  I also agree with Stanley.  The sooner we arrive at the hotel, the better.  It’ll help subdue Jackson’s fear and ease our present concern.   And I have and additional auto, a four seat Superior, though someone else might want to drive.”  Abraham paused and then added, ”The weather’s still bad and I’m not sure I could handle the ice right now.”

"I'm afraid you've handled a bit too much ice already, old man," said Walter with a grin, patting Abraham on the shoulder, "I can take the wheel for you, if you like."

"Too right, uncle.  I'll just be a tick."  Rosalie finished off her wine and left the glass as she rose from the chaise, leaving the sitting room to head upstairs to her guest room.

She changed into a warmer dress, tights, and sturdy shoes that were far more practical for walking in snow and ice than her heels.  After collecting her outer garments, she took a moment to check in on her parents and inform them of where everyone was headed.  They agreed to stay to keep Catherine company at dinner as neither wished to brave the foul weather, though her father was intrigued and made her promise to give a full report upon her return.

Being a woman of action rather than vanity, she was only gone ten or fifteen minutes.  When she at last came down the stairs to join the others, she was dressed in a warm brown coat, fur-lined at the neck and wrists.  She also had donned a pair of brown kidskin gloves, also fur-lined, and a close-fitting cloche hat to keep her head warm.  She still looked stylish, though her clothes were also practical.  She paused a moment near the door to check her pocketbook before looping it over her wrist.

"So who is driving and who is riding with whom?"

Leo took a few moments to prepare himself as well, retrieving heavy coat, galoshes, hat and gloves. Although he had several worthy vehicles, he allowed the others to take the lead on transport, nodding and thanking the gentlemen who had offered.

Upon Rosalie's quick return, he indicated his appreciation for her alacrity with a quick, tight smile. "Walter, Abraham, and you in one, the rest of us in the other." He took one more moment to check on his wife and give her a quick kiss before they set off.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:34, Fri 18 July 2014.

OUT OF CHARACTER

My two drivers, please roll Drive Auto.

"Rosie, I would feel better if you rode with me." Bishop said, hoping it did not sound odd.

As the others got ready and there departure grew immanent, Bishop headed out to his car and prepared for the drive. After starting up the car, a hard top Chevrolet Superior Sedan, Bishop let the engine warm up. With the engine purring the hardboiled detective headed back to the trunk and made preparations for any unforeseen troubles. Despite the weather he removed his coat and jacket and put on a shoulder holster for a pair of hammerless 1903 Colts. Replacing his jacket and coat he headed back to the car. He looked down at the trunk and decided to leave his other tools where they were.

Once the others were ready he helped the others to the cars and when everyone was ready, got in his car and led the way to the Chelsea Hotel.

21:27, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 1 using 1d100 with rolls of 1. drive.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:02, Fri 18 July 2014.

”If I’m old then you must be elderly and senile.  Don’t you have a few years on me, Walter?” commented Abraham as he handed the keys to ‘his’ vehicle over to his cousin.  ”Much appreciated.”

    Annabel watched as the others got ready and argued about how they were going to travel. Family squabbles, for better or worse they were a part of family life. Well, she certainly didn't miss hers... too much.

     Her attention was turned to Rosalie, who came down the stairs ready for travel. She looked practical yet still fashionable in her outfit, much like Annabel herself. Annabel though did not have a chance to change out of her dress; it was silly for them to take the time to drop her off to do so. She hoped her outer garments would be enough to ward off the cold.

    Finally seeing some semblance of order from those present, Annabel prepared herself to leave, making sure she had purse and shoebag in hand. Looking out the door, she frowned at the snow, which seemed to be falling even heaver then she remembered.
"Will it ever stop?" she said half to herself. "Enough is enough."

    She watched as the men prepared the cars, cleaning them off and revving the engines to warm them up for travel. When they were ready, Annabel entered the car chosen for her and tried to get comfortable. It should be an interesting trip and she was curious to see what Dr. Elias's son was like.

Rosalie gave Stanley a long look, finding his request puzzling, though there was really no reason to argue.  She was nothing if not flexible and she rarely took exception over trivial details.  Giving her uncle a smile as she passed, she followed Stan to the car once it was warmed up.

"I don't mind riding with you in the slightest, Stan, but if you call me Rosie again, I'll make you eat your hat," she said with a smirk.  She piled into the car with the others, snuggling into her jacket and rubbing her hands to keep them warm.

The snowfall had diminished a good deal over the course of the day, but even in the darkness by the light provided by streetlamps a consistent blanket of small flurries could be seen falling down from above. Stanley and Walter started the respective automobiles that they were to drive, and in short order their passengers poured out of the house, bundled up for what could be a long ride in the cold weather.

The roads they took had mostly been cleared from earlier, but even still, there was a fresh snowfall coating its surface that made staying pointed in the desired direction occasionally challenging. Stanley seemed to have a steady hand and was able to easily guide his vehicle as if he were driving on a bright morning of the clearest spring day, and while Walter followed behind with some intermittent difficulty, he managed to handle it with the poise and aplomb of a man who has faced many more difficult situations.

It wasn't long before they arrived at the hotel.

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OOC:

On behalf of Walter:

14:58, Today: The Keeper, on behalf of Walter 'Bo' Brandon, rolled 27 using 1d100 with rolls of 27. Drive Auto (35)

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