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  #91  
Old Dec 23rd, 2022, 08:08 AM
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Masataka 'Nikka' Taketsuru
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The sickly old man beckoned Nikka forward, and raised in a culture of obedience and respect, Nikka must do as he was bidden. He stepped near the phlegmatic gentleman and was inwardly repulsed by the man’s stale stench… the clinging scent of death momentarily postponed.

It was clear to Nikka that Seligmann was not long for this world. Soon he would be dead, forgotten, and Masataka realized that he felt no sympathy for the man. Nikka now knew that death was a luxury… a gift. To die without knowing the bitter, unbearable truth… the unfathomable evil that exists just behind the veil of reality… to die without knowing. Nikka had lost that gift.

He bent forward, it was clear the broken old man had something to say. "The Skinless Man will not be denied. He will not be denied,” the man hissed, Seligmann’s breath falling on him like an epitaph on a gravestone. But Nikka had seen too much to let the decrepit skeleton’s words land true.

Nikka stepped back, reaching out a hand to hold reassuringly onto James Mott’s shoulder but he was surprised to feel the slight man standing firm.

“The words of fear, James. Those are words of fear. It knows we will be its end.”

Nikka stepped back from the slumping Seligmann, unsure how much of what had just transpired was Seligmann… or the Skinless. Could it inhabit willing or unwilling creatures? Nikka felt an overwhelming urge to snap Seligmann’s scrawny neck, better to err on the side of caution.

Instead he looked at Henrietta, noticing the alarm in her eyes.

“Henrietta?”

OocPassed Sanity check

OOC
 

 
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Last edited by Begon Ugo; Dec 23rd, 2022 at 09:24 AM.
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  #92  
Old Dec 23rd, 2022, 08:32 AM
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Mei Li
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Mei took her first sip of the drink and shivered as the ice cold liquid slipped down her neck. They certainly knew how to mix them at Claridges. Even one not so expert in Western cocktails as she could appreciate the fine taste. No wonder gin was so popular in London. And this... this one was an entirely different league to the bathtub gins being cooked up under prohibition in the United States.

But Mei was not really here for the drink. She kept her ears attuned to the conversations around her.

There was much of the expected banter, but with refined and cosmopolitan accents as befitted such a hotel as Claridges. There was French, German, English and...

Mei listened hard and caught just a few words from a table across the room. It sounded a little like Arabic, but she was able now to detect some of the syllables of... Hmmm, yes...

Turkish.

She turned and threw a furtive glance in the direction. A woman and three men. One wore the distinctive Fez. Definitely Turkish. Then Mei froze.

In the moment that she had glanced their way, the lady at the table had caught Mei's eye. She even beamed a smile across the room at her. Mei looked away, her heart thumping furiously. Coincidence, or has that woman been watching me?

Part of her wanted to find out more, to perhaps approach, listen in, introduce herself? But Mei remembered what had happened on the train, and the reaction of her colleagues. Nikka had told her in no uncertain terms: Stay away from any Turks!

Mei did not want to do anything to compromise their own quest... But what if it was already compromised? What if these people were searching for the same thing... perhaps even following Mei and her friends?

Mei wondered if perhaps she had glimpsed a strand of the spider web that was being carefully woven around their team. It did seem an incredible coincidence that she would once again chance upon a group of Turks - and that one seemed to want to smile at her.

Or was it so incredible? This was an international hotel... Turks were as likely to be here as any other nationality... maybe they just had their own business and it was nothing at all to do with the Sedefkar Simulacrum.

Mei was unsure of her next move. She did know for sure not to approach the table. Perhaps she should just go to bed and tell the others about it in the morning? Or there was still the Masonic museum. She shook her head then. If these Turks - or anyone - was following her, that might prove to be a bad move.

An idea came then. Let's find out if they - or someone - is following me.

She finished her drink and stood up, then made her way out into the gardens at the rear of Claridges, as if to take an evening stroll.

Yes, that meant she was putting herself out as bait to try and see what might bite...


OOCAfter last time I dare not try to make contact lol. But let's see if they come after me...

I will try a [Spot Hidden] check on the dice rolling thread... which I pass with a 39!

(And PS I will keep that luck then thank you!!


 

Last edited by Mitsubachi; Dec 23rd, 2022 at 08:36 AM. Reason: Reporting dice result
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  #93  
Old Dec 27th, 2022, 10:05 AM
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Henrietta Smythe-Porter – Paris, Galerie Seligmann
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”No more! Go! Now!” It had been a long trip – and the stakes were too high for a mere assistant to stand in their way … Henrietta felt her blood rise as this Madam Bibeau barked orders at her in her gallic tainted English.

But Jacques was not about to be cowed by an employee – he creaked his chair towards Henrietts, saying ”Non, Madeleine.” and passing the ledger into Henrietta’s grateful hands.


She began to leaf through the book, while M. Seligmann wheeled towards to Nikka and Jimmy. They leaned towards him just as Henrietta saw the images that stopped her heart and made her gasp.

Not the pictures themselves – they were childlike enough. It was what they meant – flayed alive the worlds spun round her head. The instruments and actions of the cult of the Skinless Man. She knew their handiwork only too well. She’d seen it in the British Museum – what were they doing in the ledger of a Parisian auctioneer?

She looked up to see Jimmy stepping back from Seligmann – something was wrong.


Henrietta clicked – with calm hands she tore the pages from the Ledger, both those with the picture and the entries in the preceding and following page.

”Now you just wait a minute young lady!” her piercing matrician voice cut through the room, addressing M.Bibeau ”You’ve wanted us out of this place from the minute we walked in. You seem not to care for his welfare, and now … ” she approached the assistant, ignoring the senior Selimann slumped in his chair. ”And now I find this!” she held the pages with their drawings in the French woman’s face ”Now would you can to tell me quite what is going on here and why we should find the works of the Skinless Man in the pages of your ledgers?” she scrunched the pages holding them tightly in her fist and prodded the woman with her index finger. ”Well?”


ooc

[Spoilerbutton=dice results]
Quote:
Originally Posted by Jon View Post
Dice * intimidate (50):
1D100 42

Dice * Psychology (20):
1d100 62



 
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  #94  
Old Dec 29th, 2022, 10:47 AM
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Les Fleurs Du Mal
Galerie Seligmann on the Place Vendôme
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M. Bibeau looked at Lady Smythe-Porter in shock. "Non! M. Seligmann is not well! Germaine has taken over the family business! I merely wanted...Stop yelling at me!"

M. Bibeau cowered before the mighty Henrietta, bending over Jacques Seligmann. She was trying to shield Jacques and herself from the onslaught. "What is this?! This Skinless Man?!" M. Bibeau tried to pull back from the horrible drawings. " I have never seen such a thing! In all of the ledgers! I swear it!" The woman was near hysterical, trying to move Seligmann and herself from the attacking Henrietta.

Then the wheelchair slowly inched towards Ms. Bibeau, and Jacques placed a shrunken hand on his assistant's arm. He turned back to Henrietta while comforting M. Bibeau. "The ledgers from that date. The same in my brother's records. Others." Seligmann pointed at the torn pages held by Henrietta. "Better you should have them. I had it locked away, you see. The buyer, he was from Milan. That is all I know."
Jacques turned back to M. Bibeau and gave the woman a hug from his wooden wheelchair.

"Those words have stuck with me since I have seen the tailor's mannequin. The Skinless Man." Jacques swallowed hard, then looked at Jimmy and Nikka. "I do not think they fear you."

"That is all I know. Milan." Jacques seemed to shut down then, shrinking into M. Bibeau's skirts.

"He's given you what you need. Now leave!" M. Bibeau said with finality. The team realized then they had outstayed their welcome.

The Claridges
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Mei's attention was at first drawn to the group of Turks at the bar inside. The woman in particular stuck in Mei's head as being atypical. A Turkish woman, in a pantsuit? Odd. The patio to the back for walking and perhaps a smoke was empty except for the young investigator and the gas lanterns lighting the way. Meticulous evergreen topiaries were scattered over the patio, along with a fire pit towards the middle of the area. Lights from the rooms above also filled most of the patio except for some dark shadows near the far end.

Mei was sad to see the traffic inside the hotel did not divert towards the patio. She moved towards the railing to look out onto the Paris skyline behind the grand hotel. But then a voice with a foreign accent appeared from a dark recess near the railing and behind a tall pine topiary. The voice was in Italian? Possibly. Mei tried to discern it the best she could.

Quis es? Quid tibi hic negotii est? Quod nomen tibi est? came the voice from the shadow behind the tree. The voice rasped and had a hiss to it. Mei realized the masculine voice came from tall form, cloaked in black clothing. A robe perhaps? Could this be a Turk? No, the voice was not Turkish.


The KeeperYou get the sense that that is all J. Seligmann and M. Bibeau have to give. The date and address is on the ledger page for the auction. Mei thinks this might be Italian (?). She cannot understand the figure. The speech is delivered at pace. We, of course, realize it is Latin. She can guess as such.
 

 

 

 

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Last edited by Bluejack; Dec 29th, 2022 at 11:45 AM.
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  #95  
Old Dec 31st, 2022, 10:18 AM
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To Milan?
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James "Jimmy", "Little Jimmy" Mott
"That is all I know. Milan." the old man Seligmann had said just minutes before Jimmy, Nikka, and Henrietta found themselves back on the busy streets of Paris. Still shaken by words about The Skinless Man, Jimmy looked to Nikka first.

"Milan," he said. Then a question. "Milan?" Yet another city that Little Jimmy Mott had never had the opportunity to visit.

James then looked to Henrietta, who still held crumpled pages of the ledger in her hand. "I believe we have enough funds for the trip, Henrietta...do we not?"

The trio continued to walk away from M. Seligmann's abode and down the very long street that it sat upon. The wind picked up and grabbed at Jimmy's hair as he thought about his little black box and his mother back in London.



 


 
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Last edited by Warson; Dec 31st, 2022 at 10:19 AM.
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  #96  
Old Dec 31st, 2022, 12:14 PM
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Henrietta Smythe-Porter – Paris, Galerie Seligmann
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”Well James, it would certainly be a detour from the Orient Express’s route, but it is in Northern Italy, so only a few days out of our way. No more than a week.” Henrietta explained ”The Oriental club has enough funds to offset reasonable costs of our expedition – and it would be a joy to see the Cathedral again.”

Henrietta looked again at the scrunched up paper, and added ”But we should check at the auction house first – don’t want to go on a wild goose chase. The address is here – come, let us get a cab.”

The Englishwoman flagged down a passing taxi.


ooc

[Spoilerbutton=dice results]




 
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  #97  
Old Jan 4th, 2023, 05:15 AM
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Mei Li
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Mei strolled around the patio, ostensibly enjoying the pleasant setting and the views of Paris.

She waited.

There was no sign of the Turks following her. Mei had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, she remembered the serious warnings from her fellow investigators and was pleased to not be in danger. On the other, her curiosity was not satisfied. Mei was sure their purposes were somehow entwined with those people in the bar. And perhaps even the Turkish man she had met on the train. The young Chinese woman felt an instinct that she was glimpsing some machinations currently beyond her understanding.

She shivered.

The night was cool, but it was something else. Mei felt that she was being watched. She turned and yelped as she spotted a tall, dark figure emerge from the shadows behind a pine topiary.

The cloaked man rasped at Mei in a language she did not understand - but had a vague sense it was Italian. The way he inflected the end of the sentences made her believe he was asking her questions. The man stepped closer. Mei folded her arms in a defensive posture.

"I'm sorry, I do not understand. I am Mei Li. Are you Italiano? Do you speak English... Inglese?"


OOCVery interesting! I'm not sure what kind of roll to make yet, so let us see if we can at least communicate (and/or if he intends harm to me!).


 
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  #98  
Old Jan 4th, 2023, 01:27 PM
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Milly
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Milly reacts with surprise when the hotel receptionist offers up the parcel. Checking to see hat it is, in fact, addressed to him, Milly briefly examines the package, noticing that the sender is described simply as "P.S." But who on earth could have sent it? Not Fanny, not with those initials, and most of his family lived in York, not to mention that none of them shared the same initials. Perhaps "Professor Smith?" But surely he would have given his full address, and used "J.S."

Still thoughtful, and eager to find out what was within, Milly turned to the young Chinese woman accompanying him and murmured "I'll see you shortly for an aperatif, Mei, I just want to see what this is and get changed for dinner, so we can discuss our findings with the others. Be back in a pip."

With that, he leaves and goes up to his room, pulling out a penknife to cut any string around the parcel and to carefully remove the brown paper to see what is inside.

 
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  #99  
Old Jan 6th, 2023, 04:10 PM
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Les Fleurs Du Mal
Outside the Galerie Seligmann on the Place Vendôme
The three investigators left J. Seligmann's and moved out back onto the Place Vendôme. Ms. Bibeau came to close the door behind them, then paused with a second thought. The assistant looked out the door and down at the cobbles of the Place. "Wait, Lady Smythe-Porter, wait."

The assistant met the eye of the English noble, fear in her eyes. She took a note pad and pencil in hand, then scribbled an address. "Hôtel Drouot, this is where the auction was held. It is not open today. I am sorry I have crumbled. Seeing M. Seligmann. He loved his brother so, you see." Ms. Bibeau spoke with the door nearly closed, and Henrietta could see the woman warring with herself.

"After the auction for the mannequin, all people there...something was wrong. Jacques and his brother fell out after a few weeks. He was never the same. That is all I know." M. Bibeau prepared to close the door, "Good luck." The door to Seligmann's closed.

Henrietta held up the paper for Nikka and Jimmy. The Hôtel Drouot and the address were on the piece of paper. Another lead.

The Claridges Milly found his touch of English graciousness and caught up with Mei while considering the package. "I'll see you shortly for an aperatif, Mei, I just want to see what this is and get changed for dinner, so we can discuss our findings with the others. Be back in a pip." The Great War veteran grinned into his bushy mustache generating a relived smile from Mei. The girl certainly had a lot of pluck!

Arthur made his way to thefinely appointed room at the Claridge, a suite with four bedrooms and a common area. A disgrace that we should have to share! Milly went to the marble topped secretary in one corner of the common room and placed the brown package onto the surface. This damn thing is heavy! He took out his pen knife and flicked at the heavy twine securing the package.

The first thing he noticed was the smell, one he had smelled before in the trenches. Decay. Then he flipped open the lid with trembling fingers. Inside the box was a bag of thick canvas, stained maroon. Arthur stared at the canvas and the box, feeling a tremendous sense of danger. His curiosity would not allow the bag to stay closed.

He cut the thick twine of the canvas bag, then brought his hand up to his mouth and nose. He saw flesh and hair in the bag, loose like a mask. There could be no doubt that the mask was of human flesh. Underneath the face skin was a head. Muscles and organs were still attached though the eyes had rolled back into the head and the tongue lolled out of the mouth. A horrible smell issued from the bag.

Milly felt his whole body tremble, then he flicked the skin with his pen knife. Something was under the face that had been removed from this head. A message written in a neat cursive red ink read:

The Skinless Man will not be denied.

Milly felt horror shoot through him. He looked at the face, which splayed out now that it was not in the confines of the canvas bag. The face was that of a woman, young, and Turkish? It was hard to tell from the distortion. Milly gagged, held down the gorge, then contemplated what he would do.

********
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"I'm sorry, I do not understand. I am Mei Li. Are you Italiano? Do you speak English... Inglese?" Mei responded, but the figure did not answer her. Then a wave of stench hit the young woman, causing her to coughand turn her head away fromt he figure. When she looked up, the man-if he could even be called a man-had moved to her and seized her by the wrists. The might of the grip astounded Mei, and she felt herself whipped up off the ground.

The creature floated off the ground a half foot, and was dressed in long, thick, white rags. The creatures skin was taught over its bones, and was as pale as the grave with sickly streaks of green. Hair was oily and draped over the the skull like rotten leaves in a mound. His eyes were proptotic, with pale-pink conjunctiva and a redness like inflammation. They looked up and down at Mei with a twitching glare.

J'ai demandé 'qui es-tu?' Vous parlez par énigmes ! the creature yelled at Mei, and she saw rotten yellow teeth and a lolling tongue as he spoke. What does he want?

Before she could even attempt to figure out his French, the creature hurled Mei aside. She sailed through the air and struck the monolithic stones of the hotel. She struck with a wet crunch, then fell to the ground where some winter grass had been planted among the pavers.

Mei had fallen on her side, and the vampire floated across the porch. He levitated above the broken form of Mei, staring at her. He grunted then moved away. Mei heard a strange tinkling as the vampire moved away. She could not move, blood ran over her eyes. She passed out.


Keeper
- The auction house is open only three days a week, Thurs-Sat.
- Milly 1/d4+1 Sanity check for the head in a box.
- Milly must make a Spot Hidden check with hidden results.
- Mei must make a 2/d6 Sanity check for seeing this master vampire.
- Mei is at 0 hit points. She must make a Con roll to stablize. You may use luck or push, but not both.
- MAKE SURE YOU USE YOUR SKILLS AND STATS. There are a lot of clues in my posts.
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Last edited by Bluejack; Jan 6th, 2023 at 05:58 PM.
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  #100  
Old Jan 7th, 2023, 10:28 AM
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Mei Li
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No sooner than Mei had asked the man if he could speak English, she was assaulted with an overpowering stench. Mei gagged, her sinuses aching, her eyes watering. She recoiled, coughing violently. It was a death-stench, from beyond the grave, and triggered a horror within Mei, but also a recognition.

She turned back to the mysterious man, but now he had transformed, and swept toward her with supernatural speed. Suddenly, he seized her by the wrists. The grip was terrible and unbreakable, like ice-cold manacles had clamped around her skin. Then he floated upwards, dragging her up with unnatural strength.

Mei found herself suspended by her wrists, struggling in the grip of the monster, her legs kicking uselessly. She witnessed the hideous visage of the creature; like a skull with taut pale skin stretched over the bones, red eyes boring into her own, and locks of black oily hair plastered to the cranium.

Mei tried to wriggle free, but the hold he had upon her was unrelenting. She knew what creature this was. She had faced one before, knew their supernatural strength and the irresistible horror they could provoke in mortals. He was a vampire.

The knowledge did not help her.

The fiend snarled at her and she did not understand, could only shiver at the sight of the yellowing teeth as he broke into a rictus grin. A thick tongue like a black snake appeared from his mouth. Mei redoubled her struggles but could not break free.

The vampire hurled her across the garden and she hit the wall of the hotel, hard. The impact drove the air from her lungs and explosions of pain blossomed behind her eyes screwed shut. She slid to the ground, collapsing amongst some soft grass, its cool scent filling her nostrils.

Mei tried to move, but could not. An inferno burned in her flank, she felt that something was broken. Her silk dress was ripped along the seam.

The monster floated above her, a hellish apparition. Mei could only make out his outline through the blur of tears and pain. She prayed he would let her be; the last time she had been taken captive by a Vampire she had barely survived the ordeal.

The creature grunted. Then she sensed his terrible presence slide away. A strange tinkling music echoed in her ears.

Mei did not know what would happen next, if she would live or die. Her vision darkened, and unconsciousness took hold...


OOCUmmm. A little help?

I take 7 sanity. And I need to spend a massive 41 Luck to survive my CON test and stabilize...


 
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  #101  
Old Jan 7th, 2023, 02:40 PM
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Henrietta Smythe-Porter – Paris, Galerie Seligmann
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”Most peculiar” Henrietta said ”One minute she is shooing us out, the next she’s offering more help.”

Henrietta looked at the address then said ”Something it not quite right, hold that cab a moment.”

Then Henrietta took one of the Claridges postcards from her purse and noted her room number on it. She tapped ever-so lightly on the door and spoke though it quietly but clearly ”Madame Bibeau – I’m going to pop my details on the card I shall slide under your door. If there is any way I can help you, anything more you think we should do, please call me. We can meet.”

With that done she returned to the boys ”Well, I think we should head back to Claridges, see what Mei and Milly have turned up in the library. It’d be nice to chat about something a little more mundane over a cocktail – they’ll be more than a little disturbed to hear the horrors we’ve uncovered today.”



ooc
OK, a bit knowing!

Heading back to the hotel

 




 

Last edited by Bluejack; Jan 23rd, 2023 at 12:57 PM.
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  #102  
Old Jan 7th, 2023, 06:11 PM
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Masataka 'Nikka' Taketsuru
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Nikka was quiet, a bit back on his heels after his encounter with the momentarily possessed Seligmann… if that is indeed what had transpired. He couldn’t be sure of anything anymore and so he found himself just following Henrietta and James. A stop at the auction house sounded fine, its not as if there was anything else to do.

Nikka’s frustration level was building. He did not enjoy being toyed with, or participating in wild goose chases… especially in ones that could readily end in his death.

The trio were ready to depart when Henrietta was pulled back by Seligmann’s assistant. Nikka bit his lip, ready to lash out at the weak woman but he ended up being glad that he did not. A new lead, a hotel…

”Something it not quite right, hold that cab a moment,” Smythe-Porter said and left the two men waiting in the cab. When she returned, Nikka was not pleased.

“I would have preferred you did not give our location to a possible enemy. I think this hotel is a setup. We show up there unawares and it is a permanent stay.”


Nikka lumped back against his seat and stared out the window of the car as Paris passed by.

Ooc

OOC
 

 
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  #103  
Old Jan 9th, 2023, 11:39 AM
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Milly
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Milly gasps as he reveals the parcel's contents, dropping it suddenly on the table. The first thought that runs through his head - who is this poor soul? - is quickly followed by a - and why would they send it to me? Milly stands stock still for a heart beat, then another, then another, before realising just how fast those beats are coming. "A drink, a stiff one," he murmurs to himself, and, leaving the parcel where it lies on the table, he heads for the door.

As he passes the full-length mirror, he catches sight of himself, the blood having drained from his face leaving him pallid, white as maggots, and the grimace on his face revealing his teeth, coupled with the foul but familiar almost sickly sweet smell, suddenly brings a memory best left in the depths of his mind to the fore, of those horrible, terrible creatures in the trenches, their alien meeping to each other as they tore apart the dead bodies of his comrades, feeding in a quiet frenzy and ignoring him as little threat - or, he now decides little of a meal compared to the rotting flesh they devoured - as if they existed only in his own fevered imagination brought on by the mundane horrors of war's landscape that fell all around him.

Two things hit Milly as he started at his own reflection. Firstly, that his mind was racing, out of control, and that the stiff drink was obviously much needed, and quickly. Secondly, that some perverse imp inside his own brain fed him the notion that he could just take leave of all social constraint and convention, and, as the ghoulish creatures on the battlefield had done, he could feast on the head in the package just as they did, leaving all sanity behind and regressing into whatever creatures they were, some sub-human animal - no, animal was not the right word, animals were not like those things - some monster, free to be who he truly was, perhaps, but shorn of all humanity.

As he gibbered in fear, both of what he had witnessed and what he might become, Milly shut his eyes tight, whimpering (squeeze tight, very tight, put it all out of mind, and as his ghastly reflection receded from his thoughts, he forced himself to move forward, blindly, until he felt himself grasp the door handle. Thrusting the door open, and opening his eyes at last now he was past that dreadful mirror (though of course the mirror was not to blame, it was inside him, not the mirror, himself, where the true dread resided), Milly strode down the corridor down the stairs, to the bar, avoiding the gleaming, mirrored surfaces around him, eyes down on the floor (the floor that did not have blood pooling on it, that he did not want to kneel and lap at, that was just a normal floor, if artfully decorated with a twisting filigree design that brought him somewhat to his senses). Something wonderful (not the terrible thing in the box, in the mirror, inside), something light (not something dark, not something terrible and shadowy, and a foretaste of his own damnation), something that brought to mind the delights of civilisation (not the barbarity of shucking off the veneer of polite society and joining the thresh of primal savagery), the arts, things to enjoy (you shouldn't enjoy those thoughts, think only of good things, of Fanny, and lazing by the steady river at Cambridge with him as others punted past, at the delightful white wine we'd sipped that day (not the blood, don't think of the blood), as the sun caught his tousled hair at just the right angle (don't think of the carnal bodies twisted together), of the purity of that moment.

As he felt his breathing subside to a more normal rate, Milly looked up, saw the bar before him, the bartender giving him a concerned look. "Cognac, s'il vous plait, un double" he said, his voice surprisingly calm, as if someone's else had ordered for him. When the drink came, he downed it in one large gulp, its fire burning pleasantly in his throat and stomach. "Une autre," he heard that same disembodied voice say, and before he could reflect that it was remarkably like his own voice, was his own voice, he had downed the second glass. "And if you could be so kind, could you arrange for the police to be called. There was a...there is a terrible thing in my room that was sent to me, by persons unknown. A very terrible thing indeed."

Milly wasn't sure when he had lapsed back into English, but it felt more comfortable to do so, more reassuring, that not only was he fully human, but that he was an English gentleman after all, and had standards of decorum to uphold in this foreign country. He was not like the rough beasts, he would not become like them. They were not his future, nor his past.

Milly finally felt able to look around at his surroundings, to see if there were shocked faces looking back at him, to see if his appearance had caused any consternation. His hand went to his moustache involuntarily, as it often did in moments of stress, to ensure it was smoothly upholstered atop his (no longer trembling, a good sign) lip. Then he remembered: Mei. I told her to meet me at the bar, and she had not come up to the suite, so she must surely be here, unless she had decided to chance her arm at that silly plan of hers to break into the museum. But where could she be? He called the attention of a waiter, and asked if he had seen his comrade, describing her briefly. Surely the same fate could not have befallen her? But no, his was the only parcel that had been proffered by the clerk. So where was she?

OOCSanity check for the head in the box:
Dice Roll:
1d100 10
, my San is 60. Spot Hidden roll too
Dice Roll:
1d100 32
where Spot is 45.


 
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  #104  
Old Jan 12th, 2023, 03:32 PM
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Warson Warson is offline
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Thoughts on the Hidden World Around Him
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James "Jimmy", "Little Jimmy" Mott
Jimmy sat and looked out of the cab window as people and the city of Paris whirred on by. Men and women all throughout the streets, going about their business, returning to work, going home for the day, off to the local market...all of it trivial now in James' mind. All of it. What he had seen and heard and learned since he first met Professor Smith had changed everything. He watched the lives of everyday people as they walked upon the Paris pavement, walked to places and people and things completely insignificant in the grand scheme of things. They all walked along while being completely unaware of the dangers hovering above and around them.

There was a world that ordinary people did not know about. Would never know about, unless they, like Jimmy, were one day faced by a horrific unknown...a weird and deadly something...like the nightmarish monster that had killed Ale and almost killed Jimmy and Nikka.

The cab sped on, the people flitted by, and Jimmy thought about how and when that dark, grotesque, hidden world would once again expose itself.



 


 
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  #105  
Old Jan 23rd, 2023, 01:14 PM
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Les Fleurs Du Mal
Outside the Galerie Seligmann on the Place Vendôme to the Hotel Claridge.
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The London veterans had chased down a lead for the torso of the Sedefkar Simulacrum almost by sheer luck. A strange auction had occured years ago that affected Jacques Seligmann very badly, and perhaps others. This Hôtel Drouot was unknown to Henrietta, but something about it tickled the back of her mind. She had heard the name-somewhere. The day had gotten away from them, however, and they could find their way there in the morning after a restful evening at the Claridges.

The group rode in silence, all exhausted by the strange behaviors and revelations. There large taxi pulled up to Claridges and the three investigators sat up in alert. In front of the hotel were two ambulances. They were both empty, back doors wide open and stretchers gone-as were the medical teams.

"Mon dieu, que s'est-il passé My God, what has happened here?ici ?"the driver cried out as he pulled up, He looked over the back of his front seats and added, "Cela ressemble à un gâchis! Voulez-vous rester This looks like a mess! Do you want to stay somewhere else?ailleurs?"

The Claridges The drink went down smooth into his gullet and when Milly placed his glass onto the bar by chance his gaze went out onto the porch of topiaries and seating. His mouth fell open, wondering if what he saw was real. He saw the form of Mei (?) flying across the porch and into a stone wall. Then a strange form moved supernaturally fast through the air-floating-towards his helpless comrade.

This was no man, this was some creature. The thing was dressed in a straight jacket, with stringy hair laying over the emaciated head. The thing looked down at Mei, heaving in anger. From the bar, Milly could see the creature shouting while throwing its long clawed arms around. The military man was petrified, standing in place and almost placing his glass down.

The creature felt Milly's eyes somehow and its head snapped towards the glass wall separating the porch and hotel lobby. The floating horror looked like a perverse mime, shouting and heaving arms up at Milly. Then it turned back to Mei. One of the thing's massive hands grabbed Mei by the face and head, and it looked to smash her head to bits.

The floating vampire heaved up, began to slam Mei, then stopped. It dropped her head onto the small patch of turf, then ran a single finger nail across her hair. The vampire grinned, then looked back to Milly.

Just then, Arthur knew they had found him.

Count Fenelik, he realized.

The vampire vaulted over the rail of the porch and into the night.


Keeper
Milly can move to help Mei based on the luck roll!
If he fails, Mei will have to roll another Con.
Good luck!
Mei must spend a lot of luck to not die!
The others are at the scene! Play it out.
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Last edited by Bluejack; Jan 23rd, 2023 at 01:26 PM.
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