Monday, Midnight, June 16th 1924: The Implacable Enemy
In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 8):
Mike smiled and chuckled as he shook the Constable's hand, matching his firm grip. He felt oddly at ease, almost nostlagic, to be in the company of rough men who had known the sadistic glee of wettening the end of their bayonets with the intestines of the enemy. The disturbing feeling of waking up and your squad mate dead in his sleep from stray shrapnel in his neck. The familiar smell of blood, piss, and shit in the mud.
11:36, Today: Jrodimus rolled 14 using 1d100. Fast talk. Pass.
"I fought with some Marines in the 2nd. Tough crazy bastards, but the best men to have at your back." He released his grip and let his arms fall to the sides the way people do when they're in the company of familiar faces. He scratched his beard briefly, "We're very sorry to disturb Old Bart, I guess we had parked on his corner of the street. We were looking for directions to the clinic and I'm pretty sure he overcharged me for a newspaper. Not that I blame the man." Mike smiled good naturedly.
"Anyways, my friends and i just received word that a friend of ours from the war died in Europe recently. As children we used to go camping up in Maine." Mike said, leaving out the cabin. "So we thought a hunting trip and camping would make a fitting tribute to the memory of our friend. In the middle of the night a big bear got into our camp." Mike started to get more animated as he was telling the story, gesturing and making mock expressions of surprise and fear. He pointd a thumb in Clarke's direction. "My buddy over there tried to scare it off, but the fucker must've got startled and jumped on top of him! The Padre went to help him, not knowing I was about to take a shot with my revolver. Instead I got the Padre instead but the shot scared the Bear." He started to talk faster, excitedly, like telling an unbelievable but exciting story. "When I went to see if everyone was alright, the fucker came back and raked my back as a parting shot before this guy," He gestured his other thumb at Byron, "finally scared him off for good. We didn't know where else to go, but i had heard there was a doctor in Bolton, so we drove here, but not before I swerved to miss a deer into a goddamn ditch. So I accidentally shot my friend, probably ruined my drive shaft, and that's how we got to Bart's who we had to bribe with a newspaper purchase to give us directions to this place."
Mike finally paused, and took a breath. "And that's how we ended up here. The Doctor was kind enough to take care of our friend and give us a place to rest."
Mike paused briefly and scratched his beard again. He pulled out his lucky strikes and tapped out a cigarete. He lit it then said, "Anyways Constable, we don't plan on staying longer than we have to. We'd like to leave at first light if possible. We're awfully sorry to inconvenience anyone and we are mighty thankful for the help we've received." He said his last sentence in a tone to convey that he understood everyone had a job to do and that job was harder with them barging in town disturbing the peace.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 04:21, Wed 28 Mar 2018.