A large building, filled with filming props and cameras.  There are crewmembers walking around, some chatting on the sidelines, and stagehands coming to and from with props.

Clyde wanders around backstage holding his script. He thinks to himself that they [i]must be joking if his character for this film will take a dive[\i]. He’s not some common heel actor and he doesn’t want this to mar his reputation as an up and coming lead.

He gets confused in this building and is opening every unlocked door trying to find the writers room.

Richard had been in Hollywood for a total of three days, but this was his first day at the studio. He was still adjusting to the time difference and so far had decided that the coffee here was better than over in the U.K. but he still preferred Glenmorangie to Jack Daniels.

Now he had decided to take a look at the set before seeing the producer. Richard was here on an advisory capacity but the filming process itself still interested him greatly and if he met a pretty young starlett or two along the way then that would be a bonus.

He noticed a man wandering aimlessly with a script in hand and offered a passing "Good Morning" to him as the man passed.

Ray walks briskly along the sidewalk, swinging his make-up kit and singing softly to himself.

"Charleston, Charleston Made in Carolina. Some dance, some prance , I'll say better than finer."

He smiles at the bustling people he doesn't know, waves at the ones he does, and calls "Good morn-ing!" to those he knows well. He is content, if not quite happy. This film promises a couple of weeks of steady pay and boy! can his wallet use some folding green. Being the on-set makeup man, relegated to touch-ups to faces and hair as the work disarranged things is not his dream, but it is another rung up the ladder, a chance to meet people who count, not just extras, bless their little hearts.

He turns into the gate and dances up to Walter, the gate guard, singing full voice: "Sometime You'll dance it. One time That dance called The Charleston. Made in South Carolin-a! Yeah!" He breaks into a couple of steps and throws his hands wide for a big finish, almost knocking a couple of hurrying estras from the curb with his kit.

"Ooops! Sorry, girls. Good morning, Walter, Stage 4."

Once Walter has checked him in, he walks down the studio street, passing a passel of cowboys and Indians and a bevy of saloon girls with waves and greetings for all his fellow toilers in the Hollywood vineyards. He reaches the heavy door to Stage 4 and goes in.

Once his eyes adjust to the dimness within, he finds his way to the room labeled 'MAKE-UP and WARDROBE'. He stows his kit, saying good morning to the slightly intimidating wardrobe mistress and her already-harried assistant.

Out in the hallway, he follows the sound of hub-bub to the set and finds --Wonder of Wonders!-- coffee and pastries. He fills a mug and selects a kruller. Then he watches as the set is readied for today's shooting. Finishing the kruller, he ambles over to the Assistant Director and introduces himself, nodding at a man in a suit that he doesn't know -- not an actor, no makeup and the suit isn't a costume, the fabric's too good--and that tie!

"Hiya, Phil," he says to the A.D., "Reporting for duty."

Sergeant Fred Barnes is just doing his usual beat, patrolling the streets, walking along the sidewalks near some of the smaller film studios. Whistling happily as he walks in the bright sun shine, he returns a friendly nod towards a man singing some song about Charleston.

All in all, it's promising to be a peaceful, sunny day on his route.

Mark had been contacted by the film studio to do some advising about some mystery and detective films they had in process. For this film he was told he would be working along with some British fellow they had brought in, since the film would take place in both the US and the UK. For most of the day he had been walking around the studio, getting a feel for it and looking for things like exits and hiding places. He spots a gentleman with a script and another fellow shaking hands. He hears the man without a script speak with a British accent and walks over to introduce himself when they are done speaking.

The exchange had been brief, so Richard had let the guy carry on. Obviously another hopefull wanting to hit the big time. It surprised him how many of them there were here. As the new guy approached he turned to him with a smile. "Hello", he said with a Welsh accent, offering the man his hand. "Exciting isn't it? Being on a movie set. I'm Richard."

Mark will extend his hand, giving a handshake that is neither too hard not too soft. He then reaches in a pocket and takes out a card case and produces a card he passes to Richard.

You would be Mr. Blackwood then. I am Mark Hawke. I believe we are to work together on this film as detective consultants. Pleasure to meet you Sir.

Phyllis stepped out the back door of one of the sets, dripping wet from head to toe and leaving a trail of water behind her. More seemed to be following her out of the door. She was towelling her blonde hair, and seemed unconcerned that she was clad in some sort of brief 'jungle girl' costume.

"Uggh," she muttered to no-one in particular. A sigh of frustration, and a further sign that the shoot wasn't going well.

Perhaps this time, it'll actually stay in the film, thought Anna May as she made her way backstage, mentally going through the one actual line that her character would have.

The hustle and bustle here still gave Anna May a little thrill as she smiled at anyone who happened to glance her way.  There's more people just backstage than in all of Corbin's Mill.

Mark's eyes take in the hustle backstage as he talks with Blackwood. He couldn't miss the scantily clad woman dripping water as she stepped out the back door. His eye also caught the lithe form of a young lady looking very excited at all the effort going on behind the scenes. A bit part he would guess. She was too young and fresh to be a seasoned actress. The swimmer was a bit more seasoned, but not yet jaded. He hoped they could avoid the backroom couches he had all to often heard of and seen.

The conversation with Mark was pleasant. The two young hopefuls that entered the set more so. One of them, a petite redhead, smiled at them as she passed. She had the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. He smiled back.

"Hello", he offered. "Looking forward to filming?"

In reply to Anna May Gibson (msg # 10):

Ray gives the young woman a bright smile and walks up to introduce himself.

"Hello, I'm Ray and I'm here to keep you beautiful for the all-seeing eye." He gestures to the camera's vacantly-staring lens.

He raises his half-empty mug: "Would you like coffee? There's also orange juice, of course, and pastries."

He nods to the tallish fellow in the English suit. "I'm Ray Ammon. I do makeup. You're not an actor." His last remark is merely observant.

Before the woman cold respond a man showed up and introduced himself. He found the intrusion mildly dissapointing but smiled at the man nevertheless. "How observant of you. I'm Richard Hawthorne" He offered the man a firm handshake, before guesturung to the nearby Scotsman. "Mark and I are technical advisors working alongside the producer. It's s pleasure to meet you sir." He took Anna's hand and gently kissed it. "And madam", he finished.

"Yes, thank you," replied Anna May, her accent almost fully schooled away, but there remained a slight hint of lower peninsula Michigan.  "I am looking forward to it, and it's so nice to meet you."

Of course, in Corbin's Mill, she had been the prettiest girl--which wasn't hard at all when there were fewer than a half dozen others near her age; here Anna May felt that she was much more ordinary-looking, although perhaps the amount of attention might mean that her self-critical assessment wasn't quite correct.

"I'm Anna May Gibson," she said.  "Some coffee sounds lovely."

Graham had spoken to the so-called writer for his current project.  In Graham's opinion, the scriptwriter should be taken out to the desert and put out of Hollywood's collective misery.  The producer said that it would be improved during filming, and maybe so, that happened, a good director could turn a mediocre script into an excellent movie - usually by ignoring said script - but Graham preferred to play for success than throw up his hands and simply hope things worked out in the end.

Still, you didn't get too far in the business by bucking the studio.  And sometimes the studio decided to make a quick buck rather than a good movie, and sometimes Graham had to be in those movies because that's what his contract said.

He said to Anna, passing, script in hand, "It's always a good idea to make nice with make-up, new girl.  But, be warned, they're all dogs here sniffing around for I'm sure you know what.  Nothing quite like the first bite of the fruit and everything."

He just assumed that everyone knew who he was.

"Gee! A real private eye? Must be exciting...for you to be here in Hollywood." Ray grins at the Englishman.

"Hiya, Mr. Evanson," Ray says as the actor breezes past.

"That's Graham Evanson, an 'up-and-coming actor'. Some say he's going to go places. Some hope it'll be soon." Ray chuckles as he leads Anna to the hospitality table.

"Here's the coffee."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:46, Sat 04 May 2019.

"He's certainly ... direct," replied Anna May.  She poured her coffee and added a light dash of cream.

Phyllis half-recognized some of the group outside the set, mostly as people she'd seen around rather then actual names. After dabbing away the worst of the water, she decided the warm sun would do a better job. She wandered over to the others to warn them.

"They've had to stop filming. Water and electricity - fzzt!"

He spun around when Ray cracked wise, snapped his fingers and pointed at Ray, "I caught that, Ray.  It was... pretty funny, yeah, I bet a lot of people are hoping that I'll go somewhere sooner rather than later.  But, friend, am I wrong about the new girl?  Any fresh-off-the-bus new girl?

"Anyway, new girl, welcome to Hollywood!"

Then he spun back, almost hit Phyllis, and pulled up hard so he wouldn't bowl into her.  "Stop filming, you say?  That kind of accident could make your performance electric.  Really amp up your acting.  You'd downright sizzle, pop right off the screen.  It could be explosive...."

In reply to Ray Ammon (msg # 17):

"Oh yes, I am quite excited", Richard replied enthusiastically, ""There's a lot more goes on backstage than I realised"

When the director inergected and the pair passed comments Richard frowned. Was this what people were like in Hollywood?

He caught the look of surprise on the wet girl's face when the director nearly collided with her. The man didn't apologise.

"Are you o.k. Miss?", he asked.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:08, Sun 05 May 2019.

Malcolm shakes his head and the lack of couth in the younger generation. They were going to give Mr. Blackwood the wrong idea about...well, never-mind, It would be the right idea.

Mr. Evanson, I understand why you make you follow the script now. And your lack of manners is showing. You nearly run over a poor defenseless lady and can't apologize. Really?

Malcolm turns to the lady.

Water and electric you say? I can understand loss of one or the other but not both. I'm going to go talk to the director a moment.

Phyllis smiled briefly at the shocking puns, then turned to the Welshman.

"I'm OK. Just wet."

Then she spoke to the older man.

"They do when one gets into the other. The tank gave way. Water over everything. They're cutting the power, then seeing what the damage is."

Phyllis sighed.

"I thought they were cutting too many corners with that tank."

Remembering her manners, she introduced herself.

"I'm Phyllis Green."

Having gotten Anna a coffee and showed her the pastry tray, Ray walks up to Phyllis.

"Hello, Miss Green, I'm Ray Ammon. You probably don't remember, but a couple of years ago we worked together on Confessions of a Co-Ed at Paramount. I did make-up for the background characters."

Mark shakes his head.

Sorry, too many years of investigating sabotage on movies.  My mind goes there every time.

Mark extends a card to the wet young lady, then realizes she has no place to put it. He retracts it and extends his hand.

My apologies Ms. Green. Mark Hawke, consulting detective along with Mr. Blackwood here.

Graham said, "Let me see, here.  Girl smiles, two daddy types frown and at least mentally 'tusk-tusk' me, so that's about right for my relationship with women.  The morality squad has never much approved of me.  I also see more than a little irony in studio dicks being so concerned with propriety."

Richard's frown and Mark's words had the effect of making Graham more interested in Phyllis.  Since he was wearing a suit - a quite nice one, too, light blue silk with an Italian cut that fit his frame well - he undid his jacket and would (Phyllis permitting) put it on her shoulders.  He said to her, "The hell of getting soaked in LA is when you go outside to warm up, you get cold.  It's the warm, dry air.  Evaporation effect.  It wouldn't surprise me if your teeth were about to chatter.

"And, Miss Green, I didn't see you in Confessions of a Co-Ed... but I did see you as Jane.  You were undercast.  You were better than the script or direction, though that's not hard on a Tarzan film.  You looked nice, though, that's for sure."

Anna May stirred her coffee, interested in listening to what Phyllis had to say.  She had rather expected to fade to the background, but she was certain that there were things she could learn to help her progress to multiple lines and maybe actually making it onto the credits.

Richard mentally shrugged. This was going to be an interesting day.

So Miss Gibson", he said, addressing the blue eyed beauty once more. "What part are you playing in this production. Leading role? You definitely have the beauty of a leading lady."

He didn't recognise her from any films, but then Richard didn't recognise anybody.

"Hi, Ray. I remember, that was my first picture."

She shook Mark's hand.

"I don't think it was sabotage, just an accident. Unless the producer wants to lose money."

With a smile, she rejected Graham's offer of his jacket.

"I'm OK in the sun. And I wouldn't want to spoil your jacket."

Though the power of suggestion meant she did feel a little colder, and suppressed a shiver. She blushed at his compliment, and seemed conscious of her costume for the first time.

"Thanks. I was hoping Jane in the Jungle would be be my big break, but now I'm just hoping that shooting continues."

"Considering the way movies get shot, I sometimes think producers do want to lose money," Graham said with a wry frown and roll of his eyes.  It was slightly melodramatic to emphasize self-deprecating humor.  He had been in Hollywood long enough to understand the absurdity of being an in the Business.

Directly to Phyllis, he said, "If a little water spoils a jacket, it wasn't a very good jacket.  I'm under contract.  You wouldn't believe what they pay me.  I sometimes don't."

The studio was going to push him as a big star, which he found absurd, but also proper, since he'd cast all the proper spells, done all the proper rituals.  He wasn't a real magician (though he'd probably be offended at people saying he wasn't, at least a little), and he and his coven worked from the Ordo Templi Orientis tradition (which meant it was just an opportunity to get high and fuck starlets while dressed in dangerous clothing while pretending to be a magician), but since his success followed the "works" he'd performed, he made the mistake of assuming that his success was because of the "works" and not because he was very handsome, a good actor, and lucky as hell.  At any rate, his pay was astronomical.  Much better than a Lebanese-Irish kid from San Pedro had any right to expect, anyway.  (He had changed his name for business purposes, obviously.  Francis Daniel al-Khazari wasn't going to star in anything.)

"The shooting usually continues, even for the worst productions.  Still, you're undercast.  It's the dilemma, though.  We're taught that any work is better than no work, but you do too many Tarzan movies, you get a reputation for being an air-brained damsel-in-distress with nice legs and a good scream.  But if you wait for real work, you could spend your whole life waiting."  Then he looked a little sly.  "What if I told you, Miss Green, that there might be a way to hasten your career?  If you were bold and daring and strong of spirit?"

Mark realizes what a dunce he was, having missed the fact that Ms. Green might be cold. And the jacket Graham offered was silk, not good for getting wet.  He shrugged out of his ever present trench coat and took it in hand.

Ms. Green, perhaps this might work better for you. And I promise you a little water won't bother it. It has been in storms you wouldn't believe.

Ray beamed, pleased to have been remembered.

"I'll get you some coffee, Miss Green."

He comes back in a few minutes with a steaming cup of java and a blanket he'd found among the props: "These should help."

Phyllis couldn't help smiling at the way the men almost seemed to be fighting to cover her up! She finally accepted the blanket and coffee from Ray.

"Thanks."

Graham's suggestion piqued her curiosity, but also her suspicions.

"At the moment, I'd be happy as a 'damsel-in-distress with nice legs' if it meant steady pay. What's this short cut you're thinking of?"

She decided that if the word 'couch' was part of it, her reply would include 'kick' and 'family jewels'...

"I wish that were so, Mr Blackwood," replied Anna May.  "I'm in a few scenes, but only speaking in one."

"Really?", replied Richard, genuinely surprised. "That's a shame." He looked at Mark. "How much influence do you have with the producer, Mark? You sound like you've been here a while. Could you pull some strings for miss Gibson here?"

Mark looks a bit embarrassed.

I'm afraid my pull is a bit lacking.  I have been pulling some night security and consulting for the studio. I also do some investigating on the side. Pays good when the jobs come along.  They just don't come along often. I would venture to say that all of you are far better paid than I am. In Hollywood, when you're no longer young and beautiful, no one wants you.

Mark will get a cup of coffee and slyly pull a flask out and add something to it.

Richard saw the movement and whispered in Mark's ear. _{"Single malt? Don't care much for the bourbon they sell here. Give me a good single malt scotch any day."}

"Steady pay is overrated," Graham said with a laugh and a shrug.  "There's always money to be had, people are just waiting for it to be plucked out of their hand, honestly."  He was shameless and had more than a touch of larceny in his soul... and he was shameless, very good looking, and gifted with a golden tongue.  Even when he didn't have a job, he was never precisely broke.  There was always someone willing to give him things for the pleasure of his company.

He grew more serious, fetched his wallet, and took out a card with gold leaf embossing.  It said,

Agape Lodge No. 2
O.T.O.

and gave an address in Pasadena.  A very swank address.

Graham said to Phyllis, "Some friends of mine, some of whom you would likely want to know, attend church here on Saturday evenings, starting at 9 o'clock.  In the evening, not morning, we're a bit of night owls.  You should come.  See if you like it.  The way to get ahead around here is to know the right people and these are the right people.  That card can get you in."

He was inviting her to the "Gnostic Mass," which was in service to the Goddess Thelema.  It was a hodge-podge of mystical traditions - though Graham accepted them all at face value - and it was a fairly tame affair.  The real business happened after the mass was done, either in the sense of a wild party or private rituals.  But the mass was their most public face and they kept it non-threatening.

Ray sidles over to get a discreet gander at the card as Graham proffers it and to overhear what he's saying, but he really isn't very subtle.

Ray Ammon rolled 91 for Sneak 35%.

Anna May remained quiet, sipping the coffee now that it had reached a temperature where it was actually consumable.  She remained quiet, still trying to keep things sorted in her mind as to who was who, and learn what she could so that she would not have to go back to Corbin's Mill and marry one of the asparagus farmers.

"I'll think about it," she said after reading the card. Her costume didn't give her many places to tuck it, so she hung onto it awkwardly - then showed it to Ray when he tried to look.

"Have you heard of them?"

Mark answers back to Richard

Always single malt. Unless the funds prohibit it. Would you care for some? It helps me deal with the obnoxious bores in a group of actors.

In reply to Phyllis Green (msg # 41):

"Sounds like the Freemasons," Ray says nervously, embarassed that Phyllis saw him eavesdropping. He goes to see how soon they might start shooting today.

Graham perked up an eyebrow at Ray.  He said, "It's okay to just ask.  Something like the Freemasons.  But also completely unlike them.  It's like the word cleave means both to cut something apart and to join it together.  We can be said to cleave to the Freemasons."

Then he said to Phyllis, "That said if you decide not to come by, dispose of the card discretely."  He put his hands together like he was praying, and wore a rogue's smile.  "If someone else shows up with that card, we're obliged to kill them.  Not you, Miss Green, they would rather shatter a stained glass window than harm a hair on your head, but someone else?  Who can say?  It's possible, should the card go missing in the wrong hands, that my very own life could be at risk!  Imagine that!  Best that you come, in any event.  You'd be a big hit."

He hoped the right people took him seriously and the right people took him in the spirit of humor, but he had no control over such things.

She nodded. It sounded a bit over-dramatic, but in Hollywood being over-dramatic was normal. It was probably nothing more than a party, but any chance to meet influential directors and producers was be worth it.

"OK, I'll be there. Evening dress?"

Having gotten the word from the assistant director, Ray goes to Anna Mae.

"Come on, Sunshine, let's freshen your face."

He guides her to the off-set makeup room a few steps away and closes the door.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:55, Mon 13 May 2019.

MArk listens to the conversation going on about the O.T.O.. He had heard a little about them but would love to learn more.  Perhaps he should talk to Mr. Evanson about that. But ofr now, he had some questions for Mr. Blackwood.

Mr. Blackwood, at what stage is Scotland yard with categorizing criminals into some sort of file so if a man is picked up one place they can find out if he is wanted another place? And what level of corruption do you have to deal with over the pond?

Anna May went along with Ray.

Clyde left the writers’ room. Dour. He got them to concede one line but that was it. He’d have to try again later. He followed some noise and found a group of people standing over a puddle as a man and woman were leaving. Most of these people he didn’t know. Time to make some new pals.

He wondered over and tucked the script into a pocket. “Hi all. Name’s Clyde. I guess we’ll be working together. You two must be the consulting detectives? I’m playing one of the detectives in the movie”

Phyllis turned to the newcomer.

"Hi, Clyde. We were just talking. Which movie are you shooting?"

Clyde smiles and nods to Phyllis. “It’s a crime film called “A Crime named Death”. I’m a detective trying to solve the case however every clue disappears once he’s found it. I was just in with the writers to have them add another physical confrontation with the killer at the climax, however they wouldn’t do it. Something about pacing... But that’s alright. I’m sure it will be a great film. ” He says the name of the movie with a deep and fiendish voice. “And the rest of you?”

Mark turns to greet the actor who moves up to them. He deftly pulls out a card and hands it to the man, then extends a hand.

Mark Hawke Sir. You are correct. Mr Blackwood and myself are the consulting detectives. And its silly to not have a final physical confrontation. They never go quietly.

Ray comes up on the group.

"I just talked to the AD. He says it's gonna be A Crime Called Death. The director thinks it sounds more hard-boiled that way. But that's just the shooting title, of course. By the time it's released it'll probably be Murder is My Ticket or something equally cliche.

"How have you been, Mr. Colbert? I haven't seen you since you did This is the Night. I was make-up assistant on that one. You probably don't remember me. Ray Ammon." He extends his hand to Clyde.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:16, Tue 14 May 2019.

Clyde extends a hand to Ray. “Your name slipped my mind, but I remember you. You did a bang up job on my makeup there. I’ve been well. I’ve done a theatre piece but for my money, the studio is where the real action is at. You’re right about the title changes, but I suppose that is part of the process. ”

Clyde glances down to the card in his hand “And you, Mr. Hawk, if you’re not already consulting on whatever this movie will be renamed in the next 30 mins, should be. With your help, we may be able to get that physically thrilling ending after all ” Clyde chuckles a bit to himself after saying this.

Everly headed into the studio, smiling with every step she took, her cream -colored ruffled skirt swishing gently.

She waved hello to some of the people she passed, and flipped open the script of Charlie's new film. Charlie had gave it to her and asked her to help her practice, saying, "You'll help me so I can remember my lines, right?''

She had answered, "Sure thing, Charlie. We're friends, aren't we?''

Charlie had smiled, and hugged her.


Ooc: Charlie is Everly's nickname for Charlotte.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:09, Sat 18 May 2019.

Richard had started to answer Marks question talking about tightening of police procedures, rising cases of theft but murders remaining low and how funding for the force had only just started to increase since the mid twenties when ray returned sans Anna May. As they all discussed movie titles he suppressed a laugh, but agreed with Mark that the lack of a confrontation at the end would be a bit of an anti climax.

"Evvie!" shouts Ray, a smile washing over his face as he practically bounds to the young woman's side, seizing both of her hands in his. "Sweety, I haven't seen you since Naughty Flirt! How've you been? I didn't know you were on this picture.

"And who's this?" he adds, taking in Charlotte.

In reply to Clyde Colbert (msg # 51):

"Still shooting Jane in the Jungle," she said, indicating her costume.

"I suppose it would be giving away too much to say how your film ends without a dramatic confrontation."


In reply to Ray Ammon (msg # 57):

Phyllis hid her smile. Charlotte Valise was already on the fast track to stardom, a route Phyllis wanted to follow; it must be a bit of a come-down not to be recognized. But everyone looked different off-stage.

In reply to Ray Ammon (msg # 57):

"Hello, Ray. Nice to see you too. Don't you recognize Charlotte Valise?" Everly told Ray, laughing, and tugging her hands out of his.

"Of course, I recognize Miss Valise--I'm a huge fan--but we've never worked together. And I've never been introduced," He smiles and bows his head slightly, "I'm Ray Ammon. I do make-up."

In reply to Ray Ammon (msg # 60):

Charlotte giggled, and said "Nice to meet you, Mr Ammon."

Anna May returned to the gathering group with freshened coffee as well as freshened makeup.  Her eyes widened a little in recognition, but she was not about to inject herself into the conversation.

Ray reaches out to Charlotte and draws her into the conversation.

"Miss Valise, this is Anna Gibson. She's in this picture as well. Anna, I'm sure you recognize Miss Charlotte Valise."

"Oh, yes!" said Anna May with enthusiasm, "it's such a pleasure to actually meet you."

In reply to Anna May Gibson (msg # 64):

Charlotte nodded, taking in the pretty redhead before her. "It's lovely to meet you, too, Miss Gibson."

Clyde thought for a second and, to Phyllis, said “I doubt it will give away much. Once I catch up to criminal, I simply confront him with his crimes. Somehow or another, this gets him to lose spirit, and he goes with me peacefully. That means a good deal of acting work on my and their part, as I can barely, even now, see how that would work. Oh well though” this last thing he says with a shrug and a smile

Richard had been listening to the script discussions whilst simultaneously trying to keep track of all the young starlets that had just entered. To be fair only Anna with her red hair and intense eyes had been committed to memory at present but he was trying to keep track of who was who when he picked up on Clyde mentioning the final confrontation.

"Is the script finalised?", he asked. "If they are looking for a more cerebral solution to the film, rather than a violent one there are a few ideas I could offer from real life cases. Sometimes the guilt of the murderer, especially in crimes of passion, is so great that they actually want to be caught. At least on a subconscious level. I've had criminals literally break down with remorse when confronted with the evidence of their guilt."

"I'm sure you can do it, but it sounds like a strange way to end it," she said to Clyde, "Unless the director's got something up his sleeve, and by giving up the villain achieves his aims."

She smiled at Richard.

"People go to the pictures to escape from real life. You can see how silly 'jungle adventure' movies are, but they're popular."

At hearing Blackwood’s response Clyde smiled. “Ah ha, detective. That may be just the thing the script needs. They don’t want to accept my feedback, however a script is never finalized until it is on screen. Perhaps when there is some time you and I may discuss this with the writers. Perhaps a small scuffle to grab the criminal, then with your help, a moving conversation to get them to give up. Compromise ”.

If anyone were paying attention they would be able to see the gears turning in the young mans head

Mark has to agree with Blackwood. As much fun as a tussle was, most criminals were not hearty men. He thought most of them were cowards and unsettled individuals and said so

Mr. Blackwood is correct. Most criminals are cowards or unsettled individuals. They are worst when cornered. Some will fight you, but like most children when given a stern talking to, will break down and confess or give up. Although I do suspect its a bit different in the States than in England. But I have only briefly visited there and that while providing protection for a cattle baron who took the Orient Express for a vacation. It was a fine vacation for myself also.

Peggy opened the door to the backstage slowly, and made her way to her chatting castmates with a careful, elegant walk.  Once she had always been on the set early, better to greet the others and establish her presence.  But that had been over thirty years ago, back when a trip from her boarding house to the bus didn't exhaust her, back when she had once played the star.

Well... not always. It was best to not pretend she hadn't had her trials and tribulations, even as a young and pretty thing.  What time and disease had stolen from her body and face, it least had left her sharp-witted and with experience enough to lend a kindly word to those who would be taking over when she was gone.

Peggy sat down on the nearest available chair, folding her legs and arms together modestly and removing her gloves and hat.  "Good day, dears. I hope everyone is having a lovely day so far in this thrilling venue."  She smiles knowingly, nodding at the bustling, though currently still rather unready, set.  "Peggy Waithe, my good fellows, as I am guessing you're the consultants some of the crew were twittering about the other day?" she says to Mr. Blackwood and Mr. Hawke.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:17, Wed 22 May 2019.

Turning at the sound of her lovely voice, Ray's hand flies to his mouth as he sees Peggy and he crosses to her in a couple of steps, all but genuflects before her.

"Miss Peggy Wraithe, welcome. Can I bring you some coffee or a pastry?

"I doubt you remember me. I was just a wardrobe assistant on Arrowsmith, but I remember you very well. I even saw some of your silents, though I was just a kid then.

"Oh! I'm Ray Ammon. I'm doing makeup on set. You look lovely."

"Oh, you," Peggy says to Ray, waving him off playfully with her gloves.  "I think I remember a young man with your eyes on Arrowsmith, but I was just the nosy neighbor in that film. You've done so well for yourself.  If you are offering, coffee would be lovely, with cream if there is any."

In reply to Margaret Waithe (msg # 73):

Ray beams at Peggy's words and hurries off to get coffee for her.

Mark will turn at the sound of the lady's voice and he has a moment of exhilaration. It was actually her. He had hoped to get to meet her.

He walks over and extends a card to her and the takes a knee in front of her so he isn't looming over her.

Ms. Waithe, it is truly a pleasure to meet you. I have been a fan of your since your early days in the silent films. I saw your first film, the one shot in Austrialia. The Story of the Kelly Gang I believe it was called.

Mark takes a moment to take a breath and compose himself.

I am sorry, I'm running off like a school boy. I apologize Ma'am.

He nods and smiles to Ms. Waith. When a moment appears “Miss Waithe. It is nice to meet you. Clyde Colbert. ”

Peggy smiled brightly at Mark, taking his card and patting his hand.  "You flatter an old woman!  Thank you, dear man.  I will say, that Australia shoot was quite the ordeal.  If Los Angeles is warm, than it was something dreadful in Victoria.  What you can through when you're young and ambitious!" she said cheerfully.  She hadn't expected to find fans of her work, but this was the most delightful surprise.

As one of the actors speaks up, she turns her attention to him.  "Mr. Colbert, a pleasure, I'm sure.  What role are you playing in this tale of murder and deception?"

Phyllis recognised Peggy after a moment.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Waithe. Phyllis Green."

"A pleasure to meet you. Let me see if I can place that accent... Were you raised around Essex?" Peggy asks, smiling at the young Phyllis.  Some thirty-odd years ago...  Ah, you vain old woman, Mother would have have apoplexy sight unseen if you had even thought about going about on screen in a costume that exposed so much! Miss Green is a bold and brave woman to have been willing to go swinging about on set with nothing to pad her skin from disaster!, Peggy muses idly.

Mark has a most interesting view of Phyllis as she talks to Peggy. He carefully averts his eyes after one slight glance. This place was full of beautiful young females and half the time they were scantily clad. Made for a good work environment. But then he went home alone and the place seemed that much gloomier.

Ray comes back with Peggy's coffee and a kruller wrapped in a napkin.

Peggy accepts the coffee and pastry with a smile, sipping the hot liquid gratefully.  She hoped her stomach would be up for the pastry today; sometimes her insides were touch and go.  After a long drink, she smiled at her co-workers.  "Thank you, Ray, you are a very kind young man.  What scene are we doing today, does anyone know?"

I think it has something to do with the train. They have been asking questions about what we would look for if searching a train car.

In reply to Margaret Waithe (msg # 79):

Phyllis smiled, surprised at having her accent placed.

"Close. Middlesex. Next county over."

She glanced at Mark.

"Sounds like your films going better than mine at the moment."

After listening for a while to the cross talk, Clyde says “All films have their ups and downs. You just have to shine through downs. ”

Mark nods at Clyde and remarks.

These fine ladies will shine thru anything they should encounter. And the gentlemen here seem capable.

Everly looped her arm through Charlotte's, and strolled off, heading for a corner. There, Everly turned to her friend, and asked,"You said something was bothering you?"

In reply to Everly Edington. (msg # 87):

Charlotte nodded. "Yes, oh, Everly, I'm just worried!" She glanced around, and clasped her friend's hands in hers.

In reply to Mark Hawke (msg # 86):

Phyllis laughed.

"I hope so. I'd better get back and see if they've gone from wringing their hands to wringing out the set."

Mark nods and tips his hat to Phyllis

Certainly ma'am.  Hopefully they have made some progress in that line. Perhaps we will meet again after the shooting today.

Ray slips over to the coffee urn and gets two mugs, dropping cream in one, sugar in the other. He slowly approaches Everly and Charlotte, trying to get close enough to hear what they are saying before he pauses.

Ray Ammon rolled 40 for Listen 25%.

Peggy wonders aloud as the two young women go off alone.  "I do hope nothing's gone wrong.  I would hate to have to go job hunting again after just getting this one!" she says, tentatively nibbling at her pastry and sipping her coffee.

In reply to Charlotte Valise. (msg # 88):

"What could possibly be bothering the most cheerful girl I know?" Everly asked gently. She had thought that there was something wrong with Charlotte lately. She'd been so jumpy.

In reply to Everly Edington. (msg # 93):

Charlotte sniffled a tiny bit, and pulled a tissue from her pocket to blow her nose. "Well, Evie, I've been seeing things. Odd things. I feel there's something up with the tape recorders and a few days ago I heard someone screaming."

"Oh, Charlotte, I'm sure it's just your imagination. You don't have to worry."Everly consoled her friend, who was shivering slightly now.

"Are you quite well, my dear?"

A man stepped forward from the small crowd that always seemed to assemble to watch the magic of film making. He pulled a large, snowy white handkerchief from an inside pocket of his suit jacket and offered it to Charlotte in place of the tissue.

"I am a doctor, if you feel faint, or queasy." He held up his doctor's bag as if in proof of his credentials.

"I'm sure I have something in here to make you feel better. We all need a little something to cope with day, now and then, don't we?

"I'm McWatt, by the way, Dr. Mcwatt, but I insist that you call me Duncan. All my friends do, and I can tell already that we are going to be good friends, aren't we?"

He fished in his bag and brought out a small, folded paper envelope.

"This will get you feeling right as rain, if you'd like. It's like a bromo-seltzer with a bit of oomph. Settle your tummy and put a sparkle in your eye."

He grinned at her, an infectious, be-my-friend sort of grin as he proffered the package.

"Did you mention you heard screaming, by the way? Is someone else hurt?"

Ray edges away from the little group. He's heard a thing or two about Good Doctor McWatt. And they weren't reassuring.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:36, Mon 22 July 2019.

Hawk watched the doctor walk up to the lady and speak to them, then hand Charlotte a small envelope. He had a dislike for the man. Doctor he may be but not all of what he prescribed was legal or ethical.  Mark walked over to them.

Peddling your wares again Droctor?

Phyllis, oblivious to the doctor's reputation, and inclined by nature to trust doctors, assumed the medicine was nothing more than stomach powder.

"Are you sure it wasn't just someone playing a part?" she asked Charlotte.

"Giving them away, actually," grinned McWatt. "And they're not my wares. Made by a reputable pharmaceutical company, I can assure you. Just a little pick-me up as prescribed by the doctor."

He seemed un-phased by the tall man's hostility, and turned instead to Charlotte to hear her response to Phyllis's question.

"Did you hear screaming, my dear? Was somebody hurt? Or scared?"

In reply to Dr Duncan Mcwatt (msg # 95):

Charlotte smiled faintly, and took the handkerchief. "Thank you."

In reply to Phyllis Green (msg # 98):

Charlotte turned to Phyllis and said, "If it was someone practicing a part, it wasn't anyone I know."

In reply to Dr Duncan Mcwatt (msg # 99):

Charlotte seemed hesitant to tell, so Everly said to her, "Go on, Charlie. Maybe it'll be better to talk about it to someone."

Charlotte smiled at Everly, and told the doctor "I did hear screaming. But I couldn't see who it was. It seemed to be coming from a tape, a recording. If there was someone actually there, I couldn't see them. The door was locked and I couldn't open it."
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:56, Thu 25 July 2019.

There always seems to be strange sights and sounds backstage.  It was more so in the days of plays and the backstage but it occurs on the backstage of movies also.

Phyllis couldn't decide whether Charlotte was overreacting, or there were dirty tricks involved. There was always a lot of gossip about things done to get an actor or actress off a movie so someone else could take their place. Most could be put down to assuming every accident was an 'accident', but not all.

"When was this?"

Peggy was wondering at all the commotion, and especially at the too-convenient timing of the overly-suave doctor.  She had been to many medical professionals herself, but less than she'd like, considering how badly the Spanish Flu had ravaged her years before.  But being unable to work as hard and long hours as she used to had limited her income and her options.  Quacks were common when you couldn't afford to be choosy.

But when people started mentioning screaming, Peggy got herself out of her chair and slowly walked over to Charlotte and Everly.  "Well, if there is someone screaming, does someone have keys to the room so we can find out if it's merely a recording or someone in trouble?  We want to make sure everyone is safe, surely!"

She was still dabbing at her face with a napkin as she stepped into the area, she had heard some mention of something odd going on. Her pale hair falling over her shoulders and pooling around her waist, still teased by who ever had done her hair. She moved to where the older actress was since she seemed to trust the older dames, on the set given how much of a young bird she was.

"Are you sure it wasn't me ?" she asked the small gathered group she touched Margaret's sleeve . "We are filming a horror movie. Though I haven't done any screaming today, I did a day or so ago." she greeted them. "Oh, I'm Annalise Lovelace." she introduced herself, though she had been in this game for a few years, she never simply assumed anyone knew who she was. That was a certain level of arrogance, that she didn't possess away from the camera. "Did something happen ?" she asked softly.

She also stirred clear of anyone who was blatantly over the top such as the good doctor.

From the edge of the group, Ray asks Charlotte: "Charlotte dear, when was this? And where were you?"

And he greets the new arrival, having worked on her make-up a time or two: "Hi, Annalise! What are you working on?"

In reply to Phyllis Green (msg # 98):

Ooc: Yes, that's true.

In reply to Phyllis Green (msg # 104):

Charlotte turned to Phyllis and replied,"Three days ago. I was walking past the place where the props are stored."

Charlotte glanced at the other actress, and nodded.''Pleased to meet you.'' Then she replied to Peggy, ''That's a good idea.''

Everly nodded, and said, "I think that's a good idea, too. We don't want anyone getting hurt, I'm sure.''
This message was lightly edited by the player at 17:22, Fri 26 July 2019.

Mark rubs his beard, then speaks.

Maybe I'll go check out that area. Doubt any foul play would have gone this long without being noticed but if something did happen I might be able to find some sign of it. Could also have been some backstage shenanigans going on.  But I'll look.

Mark doffs his hat to the women.

Ladies, I will see you again shortly.

Then he moves to the area that Charlotte spoke of.

Her face lit up when she saw Ray and her eyes widened a bit. "Ray, hello. Wishing you were my makeup artist, It my normal--" she laughed a little bit "Called the Phantom Stalks, at least that's its current working name, we will see." she said and motioned. "I just think will all that goes on here, if someone got hurt it could be days before anyone even knew, given were such a busy, business." it was very much a concern and the petite blonde also agreed with the ideal of helping, especially in this situation.

"Probably just someone's idea of a joke, then. People are in and out of the prop rooms all the time. But let's check; they might have been testing it to surprise someone."

Phyllis was going to add that she ought to change out of her costume, or at least slip a dressing gown over it, but her curiosity was stronger than her modesty.

Mark notices that Phyllis has goose bumps and is somewhat uncomfortable in her dress mode.  He removes his trench coat and offers it to her.

Miss, you seem a bit cold.  Why don't you wear this until you get a chance to change into somewhat warmer clothes? I apologize for not offering sooner.

As Hawke interrupts his planned investigation to offer his coat to the scantily clad actress, McWatt moves off towards the props area on his own.

"Whenever you're finished manhandling the girls, Mr. Hawke, let's take a look at where the screaming came from, shall we?"

He grins at the dapper detective to let him know he's just giving him grief in response for the crack about 'peddling his wares'.

She gave a faint tip of her head at the men who were carrying on and slightly shook her head. She stepped a little closer Ray, at least she knew him. If the two men wanted to rush in than she would be more than content to allow them. She planned to examine this from the way one would anything. Situation, scenes, and go from there.

Mark simply smiles at the doctor.

I'm afraid my days of manhandling ladies are behind me.  Age has a way of doing that. And I never was a handsome one. But yes, let us proceed to the location and check it out.

"Thanks, but I'm OK," Phyllis replied to Mark's offer of his coat. She'd already turned down Graham's offer of a jacket, and didn't want to seem to be playing favorites.

Besides, having nerved herself to stay in costume, her stubborn streak was showing.

"Will you come with me to check out the props area, Mr. Hawke? That's what you gumshoes do, isn't it?"

McWatt sets off to find where the screaming was heard a few days ago.

Mark nods and lays the cost over hsi arm.

Very well madam. It is available should you need it.

He turns to the doctor.

Yes Doctor. I am coming. Patience is a virtue young man.  Perhaps you should practice at least one?

Hawke moves in the direction he had started earlier.

She too was following along with the woman going to investigate, noting that the fellow tried to give a coat over she offered a faint smile. "Sometimes, when in character, the state of mind sticks." she offered simply, and cast a quick glance to Ray. "Are you going ?" she inquired though she was already moving.

McWatt laughs.

"I have many virtues, Mr. Hawke. Some I practice. Others just come naturally."

Looking over his shoulder he sees that some of the others are drifting in the same direction as they are and wonders if the days on the set are all this casual. He had imagined frantic activity, directors yelling out obscure instructions and starlets fainting left and right, in need of his assistance. This seems more like a slow day at the DMV. The props room may prove a welcome distraction.

Slowing down a little to let the detective take the lead, he matched his pace with Annalise, the lovely young blonde with an English accent.

"Hello," he smiled. "I know I've seen you in the movies. My name is Duncan. I'm a doctor. I work for the studio. It's my first day. Is it always like this?"

Her attention shifted to the doctor and she considered his words. "It truly depends on if its a bloody madhouse, or if there are troubles on set. Like my own set someone tripped the sprinklers, and so they are cleaning that mess up and it gave me time to get away, and get my lunch. I doubt we will be shooting anything else tonight.' she motioned to the area "Some people here, are less sturdy, sometimes the stress will cause a lady, or even a man to faint dead away." she shook her head. "A certain lack of devotion to the art, in some cases." she said simply. "This, is quiet unusual, normally there are not screams heard in association with prop rooms, unless someone has been cruel, and set up something to scare a prophand." she answered.

Holding a small pale hand out she introduced herself "I'm Annalise Lovelace." she said "Welcome to the madhouse, sanity is often an option in a place like this. Usually its far more crazy."

In reply to Annalise Lovelace (msg # 121):

Ray shrugs and nods at the same time. He has no real desire to be in the good doctor's presence. On the other hand, he doesn't want to miss anything.

He trails along after the others.

With the new doctor apparently aggravating mostly everyone and the new Annalise on the set, plus whatever screaming may have been going on, it was quite the lively morning.  Peggy didn't want to crowd around the room where the screaming might have been with all the others, as it was getting to be quite a crowd, but she drifted a bit closer that way and found a nearer place to sit so she could keep an eye or at least an ear on the proceedings.  Her health wouldn't let her spend hours standing around and still be able to do her job afterwards, and she needed every penny she could save.

She shot Ray a sympathetic look, at the fact he didn't want to tag along with the doctor. He was still a doctor and if someone was screaming that might mean they were hurt, someone hurt would need a doctor. So---it was just good logic, she supposed.

"I'm not sure what anyone's expecting to find, days later," Anna May observed, as she stayed closer to Margaret than trailing after everyone else.

Mark looks at the lady and starts to say something that he would later regret, but remembers that these are not trained persons but actors.  So he rephrases what he was going to say.

Ma'am, part of my training is how to find things out of place. If there was some sort of violence perpetrated in the area, I have a good chance of finding evidence of said violence. Most criminals are not thorough in restoring order to the chaos they create when committing a crime. I ask that when we arrive at the area that I be permitted to enter first and alone so that I may search without others disturbing evidence.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:08, Mon 12 Aug 2019.

She nodded in agreement with Mark "Even, with days." she said with a shake of her head "If they are hurt---or worse.." she had played enough roles as a Scream Queen to know just what a murder might entail. She nodded to Mark. "We haven't met, I am Annalise." manners never hurt anyone. "I think you've the right of it, just in case. " she added. It was a bad choice to have people trampling over a scene of murder, if it was that. It could just be someone was goofing off. Still, it was something interesting to do, with new people, and gave people who wouldn't normally interact a chance to do just that.

When they reach the location Mark will have the others stay back a moment and he begins a methodical search of the area, looking for anything out of place or out of the ordinary.

He pulls a notebook out of his pocket and a pencil.  He uses the pencil to not only jot notes but also to lift and move small objects rather than touch them.

Phyllis followed, her curiosity still piqued. She bristled slightly at Mark's suggestion to stay back, but could see it made sense.

"Find anything?"

For her own part, she tried to notice any props that were out of place or unexpectedly missing.

Charlotte received a pat on her shoulder from Evie, and headed to her dressing room. Closing the door behind her, she started to sit down. And then she heard something. It sounded like what she had been hearing, what she'd told the others about.

The screaming, again. She stood up, opened her door, and looked around. It seemed to come from the prop room this time. So that was where she went. The door to the room was open, and so she went inside. And yet there was nothing there but an old record player. The record player seemed as if someone had been using it, but it still was covered in dust.

Charlotte headed towards it, and turned it on.

About a minute later, Everly was startled by a loud, terrified scream.

The taxi pulled up to the filming studio, and the man in the gray suit retrieved his toolbox from the trunk, then paid the driver. As the taxi turned and left, the man's blue eyes squinted as he approached the front gate.

"Allo?" He addressed the man in the guard house.

"My name is Mister Pierre Rishard...with a 'ch'..." He spoke in a thick French accent as he pointed at the guard's clipboard.

"The production company has sent me...I am told you are having problems with the...props? With the...scenery? You need an old hand to check the things out, yes? One little fire can ruin everyone's day?"

He hid his seriousness behind a chuckle. He found himself reaching in his jacket for a cigarette. He supposed he had a couple minutes to take a smoke while they confirmed who he was, and flicked a heavy lighter near his lips.

Anna May shivered at the sound of the scream, and said, "Mr Hawke?"

"Hopefully he doesn't want to wait days to do something," she muttered more quietly.

McWatt looked around quickly when he heard the scream to see if he could identify where it came from. It seemed to be from the prop room, but who was in there?

"Open the door, Hawke," he suggested. "Let's see who's in there. They may need help, and I am a doctor."

He moved forward with his medical bag at the ready.

Had it been a scream of pain or horror? He played it over in his memory trying the decide if the was a tone he might recognize.

Phyllis looked up sharply when she heard the scream. Ignoring Mark's request to stay outside, she entered the prop room.

"Who's there? Are you all right?"

Mark draws his pistol and moves towards the sound of the screaming.

Everly hurried to the part of the prop room the screaming had come from. ''Is everyone alright? '' she questioned. ''I think that's Charlie.'' she added.

Turning to Mr Hawke, she gestured for him and Dr Mcwatt to open the door. She hoped Charlie was alright!

McWatt glanced up at Evelyn, but his attention was mostly on Hawke's pistol. Did the man really intend to shoot someone? Maybe it was movie prop?

Keeping well behind the man with the gun, he nevertheless moved forward to see if he could help.

OOC: Requesting a Psychology Roll (vs 65%) -- is it a scream of fear, pain or hysteria? Can he tell?

Curiosity led Anna May to follow, little caring about the fact that Mr Hawke had drawn a pistol--if anything, she found that slightly reassuring, and she moved into the prop room with the others.

Phyllis did enough of her own stunts that she wasn't easily scared.

"Charlie!" she called, hurrying in the direction of the scream.

What exactly she'd do if she was suddenly confronted with a maniac, she hadn't stopped to consider.

Peggy stayed out of the prop room, as running about was not something she could do for very long, if at all.  But she could help with whatever came next, that was for certain.  She waited outside and listened for whatever on earth could be happening in there...

Anna had been just behind Mark and stayed put right there. She was not quiet combat oriented but she could actually throw a punch. Still she lingered back, glancing around to make sure there was no one sneaking up from a different direction.

Mark moved slowly and carefully thru the maze of props, alert to corners and dark places.  He is fairly calm about this, having done it before when he knew there were killers hiding somewhere.

As Mark creeps forward through the crowded room he becomes aware of movement in a far corner. Rows of hanging props and rather creepy masks prevent him from seeing clearly, but he can now hear a low moaning sound. There is a rhythm to it.

And then suddenly a cry!

Hawke quickly withdraws in hasty embarrassment. He has stumbled upon a tryst. A noisy one to be sure, but there is no suggestion that either of the two shadowy figures is an unwilling participant.

"Who's there?" demands a man's voice, someone he doesn't recognize.

OOC: Number of things. I'm still waiting for GM privileges in this game to be able to start new threads, etc. But I see no reason not to just play this out in a way that the game owner can pick up this thread whenever she wants. Once we have moved past this encounter I will start on another plot line with those that wish to continue.

Mark, please provide a Sneak roll at -5% (for the encumbrance of the many obstacles in the room). If you succeed you will exit the props room without the lovers seeing you. If you fail, they will spot you. Of course you can go all in and step forward to confront them as well if you want. If you decide to freeze/hide, you can roll that instead at +15% -- but he may come looking for you.

Others: The detective did not recognize the voice that called out, but you may. A successful Listen roll (%) plus a successful KNOW/3 roll (roll less than your KNOW ability divided by 3 on 1d100) will reveal who the man is.

Let's get some dice rolling. Please use the dice roller at the site and don't make them secret rolls, I can't see them yet.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:33, Mon 20 Jan 2020.

She'd followed Mark into the maze of props, and heard the voices, but was too far away to make them out.

[OOC: 21:07, Today: Phyllis Green rolled 73 using 1d100.  Listen.
Not even close :)]

08:04, Today: Anna May Gibson rolled 67 using 1d100.  know (v70).
08:04, Today: Anna May Gibson rolled 69 using 1d100.  listen (v65).

---

Anna May strained to hear what the commotion might be.

Mark began to ease way out, but his foot caught on one of the props and pulled down a whole stack of musical instrument props, including cymbals. The cacophony of sound would have wakened the dead. Mark stumbles and falls on a bass drum, busting thru the skin and ending up with his feet and upper body protruding from the rim of the drum.  He gives a loud exasperated sigh and calls out.


Detective Hawk Sir. It appears you have startled me a bit and I have inadvertently wrecked a section of props. I find myself in a rather awkward position and may require assistance to extract myself from this predicament.


Mark could only hope none of the ladies could see him in his current situation.



16:37, Today: Mark Hawke rolled 19 using 1d20.  DEX roll DEX-11.

16:27, Today: Mark Hawke rolled 99 using 1d100.  Sneak 40%.

Peggy was waiting outside the room (for certain she was not going to charging about; she'd end up fainting and she was not young enough to pull that off gracefully anymore), but kept her ears tuned for the drama within.

--

OOC: 02:58, Today: Margaret Waithe rolled 10 using 1d20+6.  Listen.
02:58, Today: Margaret Waithe rolled 15 using 1d20+4.  Know.

"Hey, hey!" calls the man's voice from within the props room, followed by a deep, infectious laugh.

"I guess you've caught me in the act there, detective."

The speaker steps forward, pulling up his pants and grins down at the unfortunate Hawke. After a minute, he good-naturedley reaches down to help the detective stand up.

"You working for St. Jayne? She send you to catch me out?"

The man is familiar to all of the hidden observers now that they can see him. Stan Brophy is an agent, well known in the movie business. His most important client is Jeanne St. Jayne, on the edge of being an A List movie star and rumored to be Brophy's lover. Behind him, hidden by Brophy's wide shoulders, a young woman scampers out of a rear entrance, careful to keep her face hidden, though all the witnesses get a quick glimpse of bare legs and back. It is definitely not St. Jayne.

Brophy stands square, ready to take whatever Hawke is there to dish out. He's a man's man, highly charismatic.

Mark accepts the man's help and stands out of the drum, straightening his rumpled clothes.

No sir, no one has hired me other than the studio. We heard the , um, well, screams and came to investigate.

Anna May was not particularly keen to go charging in, either, content for the moment to listen and perhaps learn.

"Well, yeah, I suppose it did a bit noisy back there. My apologies -- though not really!" He laughs again, big and booming, moving forward now, pushing the fallen props aside as Hawke gets to his feet and then leading the man away from the retreating girl, towards the small group of onlookers who had come to investigate the noises.

As the two men emerge from the props room and Brophy realizes what an audience he has gathered, he does the only thing a true Hollywood producer could do, he produces a fist full of business cards from an inside pocket and hands them out.

"Hey, pleased to meet ya!" he shakes hands all round. "Brophy's my name. Stan Brophy. I'm a booking agent and a talent scout. This card will get you an interview at my office any time you think you've got an act to sell, or a part to play. My take is ten percent, off the top, but I can put you in front of the very best. Guaranteed."

He keeps moving as he hands out cards and unless anyone actually engages him in conversation, he will pass through the small crowd and then head for the nearest exit.

For the entertainers in the group, the business card is an opportunity. Brophy is a top talent agent and a chance to meet with him and perhaps get him to represent you will greatly increase your chances of success. For the others, the card still has some value. A connection with real power if you need it, or bragging rights at the very least.

OOC: Does anyone want to talk to Brophy right now?

Mr. Brophy's manner was... loud in the extreme.  And he was obviously attempting to curry favor and distract, but a lady of a certain age clinging to whatever remnants of fame she still possessed could not be too choosy.

"Well then, Mr. Brophy, perhaps I shall take you up on your offer.  Peggy Waithe, stage and screen, though I no longer do stunts, I'm afraid," she says, taking a card and putting it in her purse.  She offers one of her own in return.

In reply to Dr Duncan Mcwatt (msg # 150):

''Oh, no. We heard a scream and thought a friend of ours was in there.''

Anna May took the offered card, even as she remembered some of the things the man in make-up had said.  She did not actually speak, though, just smiling as she took the card to give life to her blue eyes.

Despite being embarrassed at still being in costume, Phyllis took the offered card. As a hopefully rising star, she couldn't be choosy. And Brophy had connections.

Mark shakes his head at the Hollywoding going on.

Perhaps, Mr. Brophy, the next time you assist some young starlet advance her career you might do it somewhere a little more private?