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  #16  
Old May 23rd, 2021, 10:11 AM
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Meeting the Professor
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Jimmy Mott
As Beddows approached the group and welcomed each within it to the night's dinner and lecture, Jimmy Mott was still trying to figure out what he had done wrong. The beautiful lady who had introduced herself as Henrietta Smythe-Porter had been completely guarded and even annoyed in response to Jimmy's introduction. What did I do wrong? he asked himself again and again. All of that stopped when the butler looked at him and spoke.

"I see Mr. Mott is here, as well! Professor Smith's connections have been helpful, I see."

Mott, Jimmy said to himself. Hate that name. Hate it. And I told her Talbot. Well, that's easy enough to fix.

Beddows then turned and made his way through the crowd with the group following in his wake. Just before they reached Professor Smith, Jimmy said quietly to Henrietta, "My apologies, madam. I may not have introduced myself properly earlier. James Talbot Mott is my full name. My mother was a Talbot. They hail from West London. Perhaps you are familiar with them?" He looked at her, saw the disbelieving look on her face and again asked himself, What am I doing wrong? She's not biting one bit.

Steps later they were all standing in front of a lump of a man, Professor Smith. Jimmy looked at the others who accompanied Henrietta: a strong looking man who was no doubt from Scandinavia thanks to the tone of his skin...and a shorter man, even shorter than Jimmy, who surely hailed from the Far East. He then took a step forward and held out his hand.

"Professor Smith, my name is James Mott...originally from Kent...and I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." Jimmy shook the professor's hand, but it was just a tad too fast. His posh London accent was almost perfect, though. "Thank you so very much for the invitation to tonight's event. I'm very much looking forward to listening and participating. Quite the guest list, there is no doubt about that." He then took another look at Ale and Nikka, offered a forced smile.

They didn't smile back.



 


 
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Last edited by Warson; May 30th, 2021 at 07:17 PM. Reason: Grammar.
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  #17  
Old May 23rd, 2021, 10:29 AM
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Henrietta Smythe-Porter – The lecture
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”Is that right Mr, err, Mott” Henrietta eyed the newcomer carefully ”Well if Professor Smith is a mutual acquaintance …” she left the thought incomplete before adding ”No, sorry, I do not believe I am familiar with the Talbot Motts. Do they have a place somewhere? Perhaps they know some of my cousins.”

But, thankfully, Beddows had navigated them to the Professor.

”Let us not keep you Professor.” she said ”I’ve been looking forward to your talk all Christmas – and afterwards I am intrigued to hear what you have for us.”



OOC
Just bridging to the talk …


 
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Old May 23rd, 2021, 06:06 PM
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Masataka 'Nikka' Taketsuru
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Nikka was uncomfortable as usual… the suit he was wearing was bothersome at best but had been insisted upon by Rita who stood by his side mockingly acting like the well-born who filtered past. He had warned her about taking too many nips before the actual event and as usual his wife had ignored him. He fought to suppress a grin as she walked away from his, shaking her hips suggestively and then came sashaying back.

“Mrs. Taketsure… some self control is needed… I would not like to be evicted before the professor’s lecture.”

Rita pantomimed throwing up and Nikka could only shake his head. It was during his wife’s antics that a stranger accosted Henrietta. Masataka stiffened as the rude individual invited himself into the party's tight nit circle. He unconsciously stepped closer to Henrietta, his feet shoulder width apart. He could feel Rita’s arm on his shoulder as she felt his muscles tense.

Nikka shared a glance with Ale, the lecture far from his mind now. Events seemed to speed up then and soon they were standing in front of Professor Smith. Nikka was still troubled… the man seemed… off. Henrietta had set him in his place as only one of high bearing could do but the man was persistent… like a parasite.

Masataka stepped forward and bowed slightly to Professor Smith. “I will still never offer you a glass of my whiskey Professor. However, I am interested in why you have called us here tonight… and how this Mr. Mott is connected.”

He had more to say but Rita stepped forth and grabbed the Professor’s hand roughly. “Sae ye'r th' doolally professor? Ah hawp at least yer lecture is impressive.” She turned towards Mr. Mott and frowned, “Ah dinnae think ye ken wha th' hell yer.”



OOC
 

 
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Old May 24th, 2021, 09:16 PM
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Ale Hiltunen
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Ale gives Burrows a pleasant smile and trades grips with the butler before the man departs to attend to Professor Smith. There was something about the man, something solid and reassuring that appealed to the mechanic. The same could not be said for their new acquaintance. At the least Mott seemed to be known to the professor, but like Nikka, Ale still harboured some reservations about the scholar.

Burrows leads the group over to the professor for a brief hello before the lecture begins, and Ale immediately notices the decline in his health. He exchanges a look with his friends, but before he can make any inquiries Nikka cuts to the chase. The mechanic manages to hide a mischievous grin at his friend's brusque words, but memories or Abe quickly bury any sense of levity. Ale exchanges a handshake with Smith but there is little time for anything else. Later.

The group begins to weave their way towards their places for the lecture and as they do Ale nods to Mott and waves a hand at their surroundings.

"Tell me, Mr. Mott, how did you come to know the professor? He is a man of varied interests. I wonder what it is you have in common?"

OOC

 

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Old May 27th, 2021, 09:18 AM
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Professor Smith
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"My friends! Good to see you again. In person, at least. I hope my little bits and prompts have helped you since Augusta." The Professor gave a nod to the three survivors, then looked as he was addressed by Mott.

"Yes, Mr. Mott, one good turn deserves another, wouldn't you agree." The obese older man looked at James he gave an almost imperceptible nod. "I think this crew will have need of your services before long, if I am not mistaken, right Burrows?" The butler said nothing.

“I will still never offer you a glass of my whiskey Professor. However, I am interested in why you have called us here tonight… and how this Mr. Mott is connected.” injected Nikka, but the Professor did not bite at the bait. He smiled at Taketsuru with a closed grin and A tip of the head to one side.

"Not a whiskey man myself,"he lied,"but I'm sure that will be a great regret of my life. "

He had more to say but Rita stepped forth and grabbed the Professor’s hand roughly. “Sae ye'r th' doolally professor? Ah hawp at least yer lecture is impressive.” She turned towards Mr. Mott and frowned, “Ah dinnae think ye ken wha th' hell yer.”

"Erm, yes, quite,"remarked the Professor. He clearly only had a vague gist of what the woman was saying. "You will find the lecture most provocative, I'm sure. Not the main reason I have asked you here, mind you, just a pretense for the real problem. One my cohort is a bit too long in the tooth to fix, I'm sorry to say." Smith looked at Burrows and his smiling grin turned to a grimace. The butler showed no emotion, and if he was troubled by the hints given by Smith there was no outward reveal.

"I see my summons. Please, I have a table right up front for you to see. You don't know it, but assembling you has been quite a trouble behind the scenes. My time fades, except as a old fool. A wise old fool, right Burrows. The time for a new group to rage against the dying of the light."


KeeperYou rping fools! One more round, but the Prof is preparing for his talk.
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Last edited by Bluejack; May 27th, 2021 at 09:18 AM.
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Old May 28th, 2021, 06:58 AM
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Henrietta Smythe-Porter – The lecture
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Henrietta took a seat at their table with a good view of the lectern, as the building settled down.



”So, Mr Mott …” she said accepting a glass of wine from the waiter, then continuing rather formally ”Professor Smith said you had done him a good turn. Pray tell … what is the turn you did for him – and what kind of services we might have call for?”


OOC
Quick question for young Motty


 
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Old May 29th, 2021, 09:07 AM
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Over His Head
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Jimmy Mott
Jimmy continued to analyze the situation and his performance as the others who stood in front of Professor Smith peppered him with comments and questions.

The Scandinavian named Ale posed a question about how Jimmy had come to know the professor, but before Jimmy could respond with a lie the professor began greeting the group and speaking of Jimmy's skills. Smith used the word 'services' when he spoke of what Jimmy could do. It was how the man said it that told Jimmy that the gig might be up, that the professor knew exactly who he was, what he was...and that the people around him would soon find out the same.

Might be in over my head on this one, he told himself. Just might.

"Ah dinnae think ye ken wha th' hell yer." It was the wife of the foreigner, her name Rita. Jimmy looked at her with his anger rising as her thick accent cut through the space between them and he immediately realized that she was not one to be easily fooled. He then looked quickly at her husband and his serious face, then looked away. He'd have to be careful with that pair. He'd need to watch his temper, too.

When the professor's small speech had ended, the beautiful woman named Henrietta spoke, asked Jimmy about his connection with the professor, asked him of his services. Services. She said that same word just like the professor had said it. Asked the question like an accusation. Asked it like she already knew the answer.

"You shall soon find out, my dear Henrietta," he said calmly, smoothly, not surrendering the act even as his heart pumped faster in nervousness. "Let us enjoy the lecture and afterwards I shall share all of the details." He then gestured toward the table that the professor had mentioned, nodded his head at Henrietta, and wondered how in the hell he had gotten himself into such a mess.



 


 
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Last edited by Warson; May 29th, 2021 at 03:52 PM. Reason: Grammar.
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Old May 30th, 2021, 12:55 PM
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Shenandoa Orenda / London, England / Wednesday, 3 January 1923
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The driver opened the cab door and held out his hand to assist his rider out of the vehicle.
His hand was immediately knocked away by a walking stick, which protruded from the interior of the cab. As he took a step back, out stepped a tiny, old woman. The old lady was aged and wizened with white hair and dark skin; her Native American appearance and dress would make her stand out immediately on the streets of London, were it not for her short height that somehow allowed her to walk by relatively unnoticed - just an elderly grandma going about her business.

"Will you be needing anything else, Ma'am?" the driver asked as a prod to conclude their transaction.

"I'm fine," she replied coolly as she started to hobble away.

"Have a good evening, Ma'am," he called out after her.

"Too late for that," she replied under her breath as she smiled sweetly, then tuned around to make her way towards the Imperial Institute.

As the old lady entered the Upper East gallery, she gazed at the crowded room and the throng of people milling about. Her mind drifted back tto the letter that she had received some weeks ago, with air tickets enclosed, from Professor Smith. She had met him many years prior, during one of his visits to the Eastern US, and had assisted him with one of his ventures. She never really enjoyed his presence, and would have rather left him to attend to his own affairs. However, she had realized that white men seldom handled such matters correctly, so she agreed to assist him, mainly in order to ensure that he didn't cause more harm than he otherwise would have without her supervision.

And now, here she was again, answering his summons, agreeing to offer her assistance, but really only here to ensure that he does not make any more mistakes.

It was difficult for her to scan the room with everyone being so much taller than she was, but the Professor's outline was unmistakable. She made her way towards him and approached him from behind as he was speaking to a few individuals. She tapped his back with her walking stick and said abruptly, "I'm here!"


 

Last edited by Strange2099; May 30th, 2021 at 01:16 PM.
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Old May 31st, 2021, 08:38 AM
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Henrietta Smythe-Porter – The lecture
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People continued to crowd the Professor as he made his short way to the stage. The institute’s director hovering by the man’s elbow, anxious to get the gentleman talking before his more eager guests moved to their third glass before the reception.

But the Professor was nothing if not polite. He nodded, bowed occasionally to the grandest of dames, always a gracious word to be said. Henrietta smiled.



Then she notice a disctinctly strange woman approach. She was old – not quite white – and bent slightly. But it was her clothes that caught the eye. some sort of national costume perhaps Herietta thought as she watched the lady poke the Professor in his back with her stick.

After a few short words, Henrietta saw the Professor lean down to the woman’s height, an arm gently on her back and point her over towards where her own group were gathered. And hence the empty chair Henrietta thought.

Well the poor dear looks quite the fish out of water here she thought standing up to greet to approaching curiosity.



”I see you are another friend of the Professor’s” Henrietta said, her voice pitched just so to capture the old lady’s attention. ”Well how do you do. My name is Henrietta of the Smyth-Porters. Please won’t you join us.” she gestured to the table where the group was gathering. ”It looks like you’ve come a long way … not from the Home Counties I should guess?” Hernietta chuckled lightly, seeking to put the woman at ease.


OOC



 
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Old Jun 5th, 2021, 05:37 PM
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A Fine Line
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Jimmy Mott
The skinny, twenty-seven year old man named Jimmy Mott sat in one of the comfortable chairs that surrounded the table reserved for Professor Smith's personal guests and looked down at the folded piece of thick paper in front of him. The stark white paper stood up like a little tent with open sides and read:

James Mott

Jimmy crunched his eyebrows and raised the corner of his mouth ever so slightly before glancing at the empty chair beside him. Another person was expected to join them. Another person he'd have to work on, win over, convince. He was not happy about that. He then looked to his left, away from the table and at a standing Henrietta who was speaking to an old woman in strange, foreign garb. It became apparent then who would soon sit in the empty chair beside him and he silently cursed to himself.

"Please won’t you join us," said the ever amiable Henrietta. As the old woman slowly walked to the empty seat and sat down, Jimmy looked across the table, his face still bowed, his eyes looking upward at Henrietta. Jimmy now saw her in a new light for some reason and even Jimmy didn't know why. Something had changed. No, it was not Henrietta who had changed, but perhaps it was Jimmy who had changed. Jimmy looked intently at Henrietta and could see that she was still beautiful and gentle and inviting and...perfect.

And Jimmy hated her.

He quickly looked away and tried to calm himself, tried to pull his emotions back into that deep, very deep place inside where unwieldy feelings were usually locked up tight. Jimmy suddenly realized that there was something about Henrietta that had unlocked that deep, dark place. And he realized that had to change, had to change quickly. There was a job to do, money to make.

Jimmy cleared his throat, turned to his right in order to address the table's newest occupant, and said, "Good evening, madam. I am James Talbot Mott, a very good friend of Professor Smith." His voice was surprisingly smooth for a person so very, very angry. "Excuse my bluntness, but what association do you have with the professor? A former maid of his, perhaps?"

Jimmy then smiled as only Jimmy Mott could smile, took another sip of his stolen drink, and sat back in his chair as he felt his boiling anger transform into calculated arrogance.



 


 
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Last edited by Warson; Jun 5th, 2021 at 09:58 PM.
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Old Jun 6th, 2021, 08:42 AM
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Masataka 'Nikka' Taketsuru
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Nikka was agitated… quite. Being in close proximity to the professor made the Japanese man become reacquainted with a past he had tried so hard to bury. The professor represented, for Nikka at least, a gateway to the true evil in the universe. Standing there with his companions, Masataka could hear Abraham’s scream echoing in the recesses of his mind. Nikka shivered, the hair raising up on his arms, a nervous sweat beginning above his brow.

Rita recognized the change in her husband and she held his arm tight as she rubbed his back. “Ye'r braw Nikka... Tak' a deep breath.”

Masataka nodded his head and squeezed his wife’s hand as he lead her to her chair at the table and then sat down beside her. “No good will come from this. It was a mistake to come,” Nikka said with regret.

As the couple sat at the table, Nikka looked to be a statue. He sat still, willing himself into control of his emotions. He felt like a live wire, his legs wanting to jangle up and down in his nervousness and fear, yet to someone looking at him, Masataka looked to be the epitome of self-control. And then… after Nikka had banished thoughts of Mr. Mott from his mind… yet another stranger joined the table.

An older woman… native… possibly from South America came tottering over to the professor and Nikka could only watch as she poked at the man with her walking stick. Nikka shared a look with Rita and could only shrug his shoulders as he looked around the table at the name cards… Shenandoa Orenda.

Nikka’s heritage dictated his next few decisions. He stood up quickly and walked past Mr. Mott to stand close to the venerable woman as he bowed low. “Orenda-san, Please I shall help you to your seat. Please ignore this man,” he said gesturing towards Mott, “He is a shitzureina inoshishi.”

As Nikka helped the old woman, Rita bent closer to Mr. Mott and said matter of factly, “Keep gaun... Mah husband's aff tae kick yer bahookie.”


OOC
 

 
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Old Jun 7th, 2021, 10:42 AM
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Shenandoa Orenda / London, England / Wednesday, 3 January 1923
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The empty chair certainly had her name on it, or rather, on the little paper placard that was set upon the table in front of it. Shenandoa looked up at the lady, who had pointed her towards the chair. The lady seemed kind enough, if dressed somewhat overly flamboyant. She could forgive her for that. Most white people were like that. However, there was one mistake, which needed correction.

"We’re not friends, Henrietta of the Smyth-Potters," Shenandoa informed her.

Shenandoa started to make her way towards the empty seat. "Sgę́:nǫ," she uttered in her native tongue. "Thank you," she repeated politely in English. As she proceeded to make her way slowly around the table, glancing innocuously at the other seated guests, she continued talking.

"But I know him. Well enough to come all the way here to make sure he doesn’t cause any more problems."

”It looks like you’ve come a long way … not from the Home Counties I should guess?” Henrietta chuckled lightly.

"I came from my Home Country," Shenandoa replied, a bright smile lighting up her face. "Maybe not your Home Country? Seneca Falls, in upper Allegany."

She had only made it half-way to her assigned seat, when the gentleman seated on the left already "Good evening, madam. I am James Talbot Mott, a very good friend of Professor Smith." His voice was surprisingly smooth for a person so very, very angry. "Excuse my bluntness, but what association do you have with the professor? A former maid of his, perhaps?"spoke up to address her. Yet, before she could respond to the young Mr. Mott, another gentleman quickly rose to meet her and helped her to her chair. "Sgę́:nǫ," she told him as she finished getting into her seat. This gentleman spoke kindly to her, using “He is a shitzureina inoshishi.”words that she didn’t understand but she guessed their intent. She was curious about this young man, who bowed to her. "Where is your Home Country?" she asked him.

Once she was situated at the table, she turned to the young man at her left and decided to answered some of his questions, despite the warnings.

"I come here to keep Julius Smith from getting into more trouble," Shenandoa glanced at the others seated at the table, before continuing to address the young man to her left. "Your friend, he like most White men - always looking for trouble, trying to cause trouble."

Shenandoa looked across the table to the man who remained silent. "Are you like this one?" she asked Ale Hiltunen, while gesturing with her walking stick towards Jimmy Mott, "Are you here to cause trouble, too?"


 
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Old Jun 7th, 2021, 09:48 PM
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Ale Hiltunen
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Despite the wondrous and horrible things Ale has seen, none of those things has convinced him that the past can be altered, and so the mechanic exhales quietly and releases the tension building within him. His shoulders relax, his breathing evens out, his heart unclenches. Abraham is still a sore topic, but time, home, and the wisdom of his wife have helped Ale heal.

For an evening of academic pursuits, the air between the group fairly crackles with emotion. Ale takes his cue from Henrietta and does his best to keep the peace. Mott is of no concern, and so instead Ale squeezes Lempi's hand before turning his solemn gaze towards Nikka. No words need to pass between the friends; Nikka knows that Ale will look out for him, but so much the better if it does not come to that.

At about this time an oddly dressed woman joins their group. Introductions are made, after a fashion, and Ale finds himself rising along with Nikka. Something about Mott does not sit well with the humble mechanic, but his attention quickly shifts to the new arrival as she questions him sharply. Ale shares a look with Lempi before he extends a calloused hand.

"Hello. Ale Hiltunen, and my wife, Lempi. Pleased to meet you."

OOC

 

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Old Jun 13th, 2021, 11:11 AM
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Disrespect
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Jimmy Mott
Jimmy Mott's eyes turned into daggers as the Scottish woman who was accompanying the short Asian man leaned down to speak to him, threaten him.

"Keep gaun... Mah husband's aff tae kick yer bahookie."

His right hand, which had been resting on the table, shook ever so slightly and was quickly raised three inches above the white cotton tablecloth. The hand stopped rising and found its way back to the table, but the image in Jimmy's mind continued: The side of the woman's face was red and burning...tears ran down her cheeks as she covered up the pain with her own hand.

B*tch, Jimmy's mind said as he reeled the anger back inside and looked away, past Nikka, toward the newcomer. The old lady spoke of Professor Smith and trouble.

Trouble.

Jimmy looked around the table. At those seated at it and those standing around it.

Trouble. Trouble is right, old lady. All of this. Trouble.

Jimmy then bit his tongue, clinched his mouth tight, kept his hand from turning into a fist. There was no need for his own kind of trouble, his own way of dealing with disrespect. No, not yet. There was a role to play and money to make. There would be plenty of time to put the people around him in their proper places.

He looked over at Rita. Glared.

Yes...there would be plenty of time.



 


 
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Last edited by Warson; Jun 13th, 2021 at 07:52 PM. Reason: Grammar.
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Old Jun 14th, 2021, 04:02 PM
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Henrietta Smythe-Porter – The lecture
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”Well come now.” Henrietta said, trying to inject a little lightness into the evening ”I’m sure the only trouble Professor Smith will bring us this evening will come from the bottom of one too many glasses!” she chuckled raising hers to the table. ”You can say one thing for him, he knows how to bring a potpourri of people together..”

She turned to Shenandoa, adding ”That’s not to say that we did not discover our fair share of trouble last time he brought us together – but that was nearer your neck of the woods than London I shouldn’t imagine we’d see anything of that sort here.



She turned from guest to guest, seeking to bring them in to her bonhomie as she spoke ”Still it seems that we all have stories to tell of our past encounters with the dear Professor. It looks like nature has called him for a few minutes - while we are waiting so perhaps we can pass the time with tales of our past encounters? If we are all friends of the Professors then I’m sure we shan’t be shocked by the twists those tale take. Shall I start?”

Henrietta told their tale – quickly, but not hurried. She told them of the lost boy Jimmy and his mysterious train. She whispered the words Yog Sothoth. She dwelt on the alligators in the Augustan swamps – their lives in their hands. Then she spun the mythic quality of the time on the spectral train, leaving it for the listener to judge whether these were dreams spun by strange swamp flora or truly a visit to another plain.


”To Abraham.” she said at last, raising a toast to their dear and absent friend.


OOC



 
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