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  #1  
Old 01-05-2010, 12:54 PM
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The Reunion

Shattered fragments of color rained down on the floor from the stained glass windows. The small chappel had several rows of pews but only one person dressed in a heavy brown monks robe sat in the first one by the aisle. Loud clacks of hard bottomed shoes echoed on the wooden floor as another man this time one who was well dressed in a black business suit made his way towards front. His dark brown hair hung slightly over the wire frame glasses resting gently on his face. He moved swiftly and sat directly behind the man in the monks robe.

The man in the monks robe turned only slightly just enough so he could see the person behind him and then he spoke turning away again.I told you Martin never to bother me here.

I'm sorry sir but it could not be helped. The preparations are complete but there was one marginal error. Martin's faced turned a faint shade of red.

Errors are unacceptable in the eyes of your god. Tell me. What sin have you committed? The man in the monks robes fingers tightened around the arm rest of the pew.

That old professor we had been trailing the one who caught wind of our existence. Martin cleared his throat. He managed to slip by us for a few hours. We believe during that time he managed to warn others.

And what of him of now?

Dead. Just as it was decreed. There is some good news sir. It seems we have narrowed down the list. Soon we'll have what we need.

How many potentials?

A dozen or so. OH, before I forget this came in the mail. Martin said as he stood and began to walk out after slipping the manilla envelope to the other man.

Martin. I want you to cleanse whoever was tailing the professor. It seems they did not want to be saved that badly after all.

Understood.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a simple cipher constructed in haste and not everything was encoded in the letter that was sent to warn the recipients. The hidden line said to meet on a spefic date at Rick's Bar and Grill and to sit at table number eight. There was a reservation for 7 p.m. on November 15th, 2009.

(You can use this as a chance to introduce your characters and to get a feel for them. Whoever posts first will be first to arrive and so on.)
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Old 01-05-2010, 03:08 PM
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The dark blue BMW slid to a halt, shifted into park as its strong engine came to rest. The driver door popped open and Culler's smoothly exited the vehicle. He was dressed casually, yet his cut and stride would be easy to see he was all business. Deacon chose to wear a plain white T-shirt underneath a fur-insulated Leather jacket, zipped up despite the ambient warmth that still hung on to the last of autumn. he dark blue jeans were well-tailored as well, and his dark green cap was worn low while boot-clad feet made their way through the restaurant door.

He made no move to remove his hat even as he addressed the young hostess by the door. A quick, friendly exchange of words got him to his table quickly. Only minutes later followed a coffee. He drank it black, accustomed to such a taste from long nights spent in urgency. Once the hot stuff in the cup washed down his throat, his mind began rolling quickly as he waited for the others to come.
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Old 01-06-2010, 08:41 AM
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Jim McBane was almost late to the restaurant. After canceling his classes for the day, he had spent a pleasant afternoon in the company of a gorgeous coed named Alicia who thought he was the best thing since bubblegum. She had actually said that during the throes of passion and it was then that he realized that he was getting old. Then he realized that he didn't care. After all, he wasn't interested in her IQ.

After disentangling himself and graciously excusing himself, he had rushed home, showered and dressed in a dark blue business suit. From the upper shelf of his closet he retrieved a shoulder holster and slid it on over his shirt and slipped into a dinner jacket. The Colt was in a drawer in his bedside bureau and after checking the action, he slipped a full magazine into it and holstered it. Grabbing a long overcoat from his closet he rushed out of his condo and down to the community garage where he slid behind the wheel of his BMW. It was 6:45.

Making it across town in record time, and risking a encounter with a patrolman, he whipped into a parking space in front of the restaurant at five till. Exiting, he donned his overcoat, checking to make sure the pistol did not show and hurried to the front door, hunching against the cool breeze that filtered its way across the city.

Upon entering he was greeted by a hostess (her name was Sasha and she had legs to die for) and was led to a table near the back of the dining area. A man was already seated in one of the chairs and watched him approach. Pulling up next to the table, Jim dismissed the hostess with a wink and an order for a gin and tonic. Shedding his overcoat he folded it into an empty chair and sat down opposite the other man.

"Name's McBane." He said offering his hand to the stranger. “You the one that sent the cipher?”
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Old 01-06-2010, 11:08 AM
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Deacon blinked once. Then twice. He did stand up out of his chair enough to shake the man's hand with a firm grip. "Culler. And no, I didn't..." His tone was cautious, like a shark on the hunt. As he sat back down into his seat, he thought, But if he didn't send the message either...

The flow of Realization began to trickle into his riverbed of Reasoning. His eyes rapidly glanced along the table surface as he fought to keep up with his own thoughts. Eventually, his eyes sprang to McBane's face, squinted inquisitively "You knew Grant Williams...?" He leaned in close to ask the question, his voice just above a whisper. His hands held together in the 'studious triangle'. "...and...went to Meridian High School? Perhaps?"

His paranoia increased, and his senses went on alert.

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Old 01-06-2010, 04:39 PM
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Deacon and Jim had introduced themselves albeit a rather tense one. Deacon's question went unanswered for the moment as another man strolled in towards the table.

Whew! I thought I was going to be the only sucker to show up. Like some kind of practical joke.

The man was about 6 foot 3 with dirty blonde hair a muscular physique and a pearly white smile.

Jimmy?! Is that little Jimmy McBane? Oh c'mon man don't say you don't recognize me. It's me Chip Sanfred. Varsity football...VP of the student council... he stood with his arms and hands held out as if to emphasize his description.


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Old 01-06-2010, 07:02 PM
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McBane groans inwardly at the misuse of his name, but plasters a smile onto his face as he rises to meet the newcomer.

"Yo Chip! Haven't seen you in what...almost twenty years?" In truth, McBane had very little interaction with anyone in highschool unless they were female and he is having a hard time remembering Chip Sanfred.

"Hey Chip, this is Culler." He says, displaying Deacon with a flourish of his hands, in an attempt to turn the conversation elsewhere. "Apparently he went to Meridian Highschool around the same time as us, but for the life of me I can't seem to place him. How about you?"
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Old 01-06-2010, 08:09 PM
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It seemed Deacon's question was answered, which sent his mind further spiraling through the abyss of his mental faculties. He managed to put this process on hold as he assimilated the conversation.

Three of us here. Past students of Meridian college. Students of a deceased professor.

He looked over the former football star with a seemingly cold gaze. His memory was good; it took little work for him to recall his high school's student celebrities. What was immediately curious was his presence here. Deacon had a low appraisal in regards to the intelligence of jocks. He believed little in the idea that people could change much over time.

"Please take a seat." It was a plain statement. He would have preferred for their meeting to be much more low-key, but it seemed it would not work to his favor. "We have much to discuss as I'm sure you already know." He removed a small cigarillo and sparked it to life. Wisps of smoke floated around his face as their server approached. "Fingers and Fries, please. Thank you."
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Old 01-06-2010, 08:21 PM
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Jim, glad to be out of the spotlight for a moment, merely sits and informs the waitress that food will not be necessary as long as the gin and tonics keep coming. Glancing at his watch he notices that it is a quarter after seven and hopes that he will be done in time to make his ten o'clock date with Kandy (yes, with a K), his Psychology 101 TA. The gravity of the situation has yet to fully impress itself upon him and deep down he suspects, like Chip, that this might be some practical joke being played on them by an old classmate.

"So." He says, taking a sip from his cocktail. "Anybody know why we're here?"
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Old 01-07-2010, 05:55 PM
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Chip scrunched his eyes and put his hand to chin looking over the other man. Hmm I think remember...kid who kinda kept to himself a lot. he said in reference to the hardboiled detective.

Two more men entered at almost the same time but were clearly not arriving together. The first man was 5 ft 10 give or take. His jet black hair greased to the side. His eyes danced around incessantly behind thick glasses. It'd didnt take much effort to remember the nerd who almost everyone gave a hard time to....Leo Savino. He excused himself as he sat down away from everyone else.

The other was a bit more of a mystery he was a slender man with brown hair and glasses as well and about the same height. He took an empty seat and gave everyone a quick nod. Marty Petrucinski. Not like anyone would really remember me like they would Chip the superstar over there.

Chip was to the first to speak again. All I know is that a bunch of old classmates have been dropping like footballs thrown to Leo in gym class. Me and the guys from the team get together now and again three just up and died under some odd circumstances. You remember Willie our QB well he made it big in stocks and such so he and his honey were out in their fancy cabin in the woods. She woke up the next morning and found him stabbed on the downstairs sofa. Had that symbol on his chest too. Looked like he put up quite a fight but she swears she didn't hear a damn thing.

Marty chimed in.I remember reading about that but that was before they were releasing the images found with the bodies. Just like my old friend Pablo. He was run over.....several times.. outside in his works parking lot.

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Old 01-08-2010, 12:38 AM
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Hmm I think remember...kid who kinda kept to himself a lot.

Deacon's eyebrows lifted in surprise. He wasn't one to make himself known at school, and the fact that the former athlete star had recognized him made him feel...visible. He responded with a small nod; it wasn't the greatest of feelings for the toughened investigator. He remembered Savino much more easily than the others. Loners tended to cross each others' path more often than not.

Marty, on the other hand, was a blurry figure in his recollection. Blurry, but not unknown. His brain tended to pick up on things whether he asked it to or not.

As Chip began to start off their meeting in the right direction, a pen and notepad popped into his brain. He recanted his earlier thought as to the intellect of the athletically-inclined. There were so many questions to be asked, but a man of his experience and profession knew to play it cool. He did wish that Leo was a small part of their assemble.

Another puff from the mild smoke, and Deacon spoke his piece. "So it seems so far everyone who was connected ot the professor has been iced." The lingo was unintentional, but somehow fit against his words. "So other than being classmates, what else did they have in common? And ourselves as well? Cryptic letters don't often show up in our mailboxes, I'm sure."
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Old 01-08-2010, 01:15 AM
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"Maybe its something he was teaching." McBane says. He is halfway into his second cocktail and feeling pretty good despite his coming around to the idea that this might not be a practical joke. "Or maybe its something he was researching, although I doubt that would be it since the victims couldn't have all been involved. Do we know what they did for a living? Might be able to tie something together from there."
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Old 01-09-2010, 10:49 AM
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No it couldn't be anything he was teaching. Leo murmured from the other end of the table. Not everyone had the same math teacher. That quarterback was in the special jock math class. You know the one they shoved them in so they could get higher grades to continue to play. Mr. Williams' didn't teach those classes.

Chip scowled at Leo. Shortly thereafter another pair of arrivals came in. A 5 ft 2 brunette woman who introduced herself as Staci Ingram and a Japanese man not much taller than her who called himself Joe Takashi.

The conversations drifted back and forth but eventually returned to the matter at hand when the two newest members were filled in.

I- I don't want anything to do with this. Chances are nobody will remember me anyway. Leo said somewhat nervously looking at his watch. The time was drawing in a few minutes to 7.I'm going to leave now. He stood up and excused himself.
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Old 01-09-2010, 02:40 PM
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Culler couldn't help but snicker at Leo's comment. His suspicions were re-validated while another point of similarity was knocked off the list. As he suffered through the small talk, he became curious about Leo's need to leave over such an important matter. Note: Check up on Savino.

his patience was reaching his limit as he felt little progress was being made for the time they spent there. The waitress arrived with some of their food, and once she was gone, he cleared his throat to speak up. "Here...are some things that are obvious as to what we all have in common." Smoke continued to spew from the corners of his mouth as his half-finished cigarillo stayed fixed between his fingers. "One. We were all part of the same graduating class." He took a short break to take a quick puff, then continued on. "Two. He was, at some point our teacher. Three. Everyone here has received a letter more than likely from him. And he knew he was going to die as he sent those letters."

He felt the need to let that sink in before again continuing on. "Four. The people from our graduating class are being methodically killed, and we are more than likely the next targets." With surprising fluidity, he managed to snatch a bite from one of his chicken fingers without missing a beat, despite a mouthful of food. "William's wanted us here for a reason, and I would obviously assume it is because of something we know, collaboratively, that will prevent our untimely deaths. Anyone have any unusual memory of high school in our graduating year?"
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Old 01-10-2010, 08:15 AM
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McBane ponders the question of unusual events as he sips his gin. "Only thing I can remember that was unusual was the deaths of Williams' teachers assistants in that car wreck. Remember that? It was weird because they were all in the car together and the police said there was no alcohol or drugs involved. They just went over the embankment on a curve and kabluey. Everyone chocked it up to teenage inexperience at the time, but now you kinda have to wonder."

He sips his drink thoughtfully while eyeing the young hostess from across the room.

"I still think this might have something to do with what we all do for a living. At least that’s how it works in all the cheesy detective novels I've read. I, for example, am a Forensic Psychologist. I specialize in getting inside the heads of criminals and trying to figure out how, or why, they do the things they do." He looks across the table at Culler. "You are a police detective I assume?"
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Old 01-10-2010, 12:20 PM
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Deacon nodded his head when Jim mentioned their tie possibly being through occupations. Good observation. He was especially intrigued at the man's mention of his own profession. That would certainly be helpful.

"You are a police detective I assume?"

Culler turned his head to look into McBane's eyes. While he assumed it was his own personality, it was still impressive. "P.I.," he corrected, "but I was at one time. I don't work nearly as close with them as I used to." It was much too early to reveal his few, close ties to the station, not knowing who would be cooperative in this situation.

He remained silent, waiting for the rest of their group to add input to the idea of memories and their nine-to-five livelihoods.
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