Timed Misery (1800's Supernatural Mystery Adventure, Closed Game Thread)

[Raynoson]

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Spoiler: Warren L. Grayson

Name: Warren L. Grayson

Background: White

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Height & Weight: 6 feet 130 lbs.

Appearance: Warren has dark blue eyes and short, messy, black hair. He commonly wears grey trousers and black loafers with a white button-up shirt, midnight blue vest, and grey morning coat. He will put on a black or blue bow tie to complete the ensemble. Warren keeps a dented steel watch in his left coat pocket at all times.

History: Warren was born to an affluent family that owned a small weapon factory in town. His mother was as loving to him as any parent could be, but his father was often distant, thinking only of how he could make more money.

Though both parents wanted Warren to be around children of other important members of society, he found himself befriending the boys that worked at the factory starting at the age of 7. On one particular day, he went with one of his friends to see how the machines where operated. He watched every worker carefully, and in time worked the machines himself. Warren even read the schematics and repaired the machines whenever there was a breakdown.

During his teen years, Warren's father began grooming him to run the family business, and even brought him along to meetings. He noticed that his father was a short-tempered man and didn?t handle clients well, so Warren started talking to them himself. Amazingly, he found he had a talent for manipulating people into doing what he wanted, and put his silver tongue to use helping his father.

However, the shady business practices of Warren's father were brought to light in later years. He would often buy stolen parts smuggled from other regions. On a routine night where he was meeting with the smugglers, the authorities were in waiting. After his arrest, the factory was closed down pending an investigation, and the family became destitute soon after.

With no other options left, Warren took all the money he had left and stuck out on his own. While traveling from town to town, he ran into some of the lowlier and criminal elements of the world his family had sheltered him from, and was even held at knifepoint by a man wanted his valuables. Though his hypnosis worked, and the man put the knife away to go home, Warren knew he couldn?t rely on his ability to get him out of every situation, and bought a pair of weapons from a local vender. He modified this with some scrap metal he took from the old factory to be able to hide the weapons under his sleeve and draw them out for quick access.

Warren was nearly out of funds after 2 months, and knew a nomadic life would not work. He a portion of what little money he had to buy a train ticket to Harkstead, where he hopes to find a steady job and make his own way.

Reason to be here/things to do: Find work at one of the factories. Possibly set up a workshop.

Personality: Warren is a very calm and polite man. He speaks to both friend and foe alike in a charming and regal manner. He can sometimes be arrogant, as he is fully aware of his intelligence, and isn?t afraid to call out people for being wrong.

Warren believes in a small sense of honesty. Although his ability makes it a simple chore to manipulate people's actions, he will not outright lie to them, going instead for clever deception.

Power: Hypnotic suggestion: Warren can subtly manipulate the thoughts and feelings of the people around him. This can lead to something as simple as getting a few extra dollars when bartering, or inducing fear in an otherwise imposing enemy.

Notable skills: Inventor. Locksmith. Machine repair.

Equipment: Small black bag containing repair tools.
Several pieces of parchment with several chunks of graphite.
A pair of daggers, attached to his arms by metal devices under hi sleeves.

EDIT: Suggestions have been added.

<spoiler=Lucrèce Leblanc>Name: Lucrece Leblanc

Background: White, French, Courtesan under the alias "Le Desserre Ruban de Soie" or "The Loose Silk Ribbon"

Age & Gender: 21, Female

Height & Weight: 5' 4" 140 lbs.

Appearance: with blonde hair, blue eyes and a half-lithe, half-rubenesque figure, she is the ideal woman of the 19th Century gentlemen. She wears a silk ribbon, loosely knotted in hair, the origin of her alias. Her wardrobe ranges from the outrageously revealing to the conservely concealing for when she wants be inconspicuous in the day and show her wares in the night. Lucrece is fond of cigarettes and is often seen with a cigarette holder in hand, blowing smoke rings.

<spoiler=Head and Hairstyle>http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gnXf7uK3WME/TEaHVNlV4gI/AAAAAAAABGc/f1Q8ZIfyOp4/s1600/finger+puffs+hairstyle.jpg

<spoiler=Body and Dress Style>http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2010/243/b/c/victorian_harlot_by_santa_evita-d2xpfb7.jpg

History: Born in the alleyways of Paris, Lucrece quickly learn that the city foreigners call the ?City of Romance? is just as gritty and crime-ridden as the slums of London those foreigners tried to escape. With her parent?s dead, Lucrece?s father was killed overseas in the Revolutionary War and her mother died in childbirth, she lived with her uncle in Montmartre for the duration of her childhood, being schooled in all a lady should know. However, Uncle Julien was a strict man no stranger to giving beatings and in her teenage years she packed up the few thing Uncle Julien gave to her and when out to find solace in the streets.

The streets of Paris, even though they were her birthplace, were cold and without comfort and with her money running out, she turned to selling her body. Lucrece found that this sort was work to be enjoyable, even with its many dangers, and grew to excel at it, rising from being a simple prostitute to being a courtesan servicing the rich and powerful. But as the years when on, Lucrece grew jaded, where once she enjoyed her work, she went to viewing herself as nothing but a sex toy for those who could afford it. She dreamed of leaving Paris, to somewhere else to escape the stigma of being a prostitute and began to stash her earnings to fuel that dream. Her clients often spoke of their travels abroad and she wanted to travel around Europe and see the same wonders.

The dream was crushed when one of her clients who regarded her as his favorite, a middle-aged Gentilhomme called Antonin d'Grace who found solace from his experiences with the French Revolution in her bosom, found the stash and punished her for trying to abandon him. The night after with their next meeting, he showed her the tickets he had bought with her earnings - two to the New World and two to Harkstead - Lucrece lashed out in her rage and using her small derringer she kept for troublesome johns, she shot and killed him. Stripping the body of all valuables and dumping in it the Seine, she moved on to selling her ill-gained secrets in hope of rebuilding the stash and fulfilling her dream of a tour of Europe.

The French nobility soon got word and attempts to silence her were made, Lucrece realized she had to flee France sooner rather than later. Her dream crushed yet again, she boarded the boat, luggage in hand, bound for the New World, then onward to Harkstead.

Reason to be here/things to do: Lucrece is no longer safe in her home country and with only the tickets to Harkstead, she is forced by circumstance and the gendarmerie to flee there.

Personality: Outside she is a surly mistress, loud, friendly and flirty. However, that is just a mask that she put on to draw johns. Inside, over the years she has grown to be cruel and calculating, using her experience to manipulate others, being every bit of the femme fatale. Only to her few true friends she shows her good side - kind but has a habit of telling jokes filled with dry humor.

Power: Skin Sponge - She is able, through touch, to absorb the memories of others, from the memory of your favorite childhood toy to your deep, dark secrets. The surface thoughts of a person are the quickest to acquire, deep, dark secrets, however, take at least an hour or more to ease into her mind.

Notable skills: In her education in the School of Hard Knocks, she has acquired nefarious skills such as pickpocketing unsuspecting marks and lock picking, her hairpins can be easily turned into lock picks with some simple bending, though they are not of the highest quality. She can easily persuade the opposite with seduction, not to mention her proficiency in the ?bedroom arts?.

Equipment: A luggage case containing numerous dresses, shoes and cases of make-up, a purse containing the leftovers of her funds, a concealed small one-shot muzzle loading derringer with six bullets, hand pins, a hairbrush, hair accessories, a packet of cigarettes with cigarette holder, and a small case of make-up.

Changed the power and the travel details to add variety and make more sense.

Updated.

Spoiler: Donal Turner

Name: Donal Turner

Background: White. Hunter, trapper, and trader. Born in Dublin.

Age & Gender: 39. Male.

Height & Weight: 5'10". 201 lbs.

Appearance: a mountain man clad in buckskin. Bald. A big bushy beard covers most of his face. His eyes are a dull green.

Donal is a big man with plenty of girth to go around. Most of that weight is muscle, and you get the feeling he can stand toe to toe with a bear. And he likely has.

History: An Irish national, Donal was brought into the United States with his family when he was an infant. With little opportunity along the Eastern seaboard, the Turner family immigrated to Iowa territory and settled on a farm. Without a good plow, tilling the soil was slow and exhausting, and the family went many nights without food.

Impatient and fed up with their lot, the Turner patriarch sold what tools they had and purchased a rifle and black powder. He then went out into the woods. Within an hour, Turner returned with a deer slung over his shoulder.

Turner developed a reputation as a gifted hunter on the frontier, a reputation carried on by his sons after he passed. Donal was his second oldest, and when he was of the right age he moved further west to the Rockies, trading with other trappers and hunting bigger and dangerous game.

Reason to be here/things to do: After nearly twenty years in the wilderness, Donal retired from his work and rode the trains to Harkstead, looking to sell his impressive collection of trophies and perhaps find easy work.

Personality: A friendly, chatty, and boastful man. Ask about one of his hunts and he'll likely give you his life's story. Not very adaptable when things don't go his way.

Power: Hunter's Eye: Years in the brush have trained Donal's sight. He can spot slight movements in densely wooded areas, track humans and animals by the signs they leave, and spot individuals in a crowd with ease. He can also tell facial and body movements in conversation.

Notable skills: Marksmanship, trapping, boxing.

Equipment: A .69 Whitney rifle with pocketful?s of balls and a holster for powder, a Tomahawk, a pocket watch, and plenty of furs to sell.

Spoiler: Richard Morrison

Name: Richard Morrison

Background: Private Investigator, American born with English and Scottish origins. Used to work with the police.

Age & Gender: 45 Male

Height & Weight:5 ft. 11 in. He weighs in at about 155 pounds.

Appearance: As a private investigator, a business still up and coming, he always looks professional and wears a business suit everywhere he goes, as well as a top hat covering his mostly bald head. What remains of his hair mostly forms around the back, slicked back, though for one losing his hair, the color is still a stark black. His face is fairly aged looking, no doubt from stress. Despite all of that, his teeth are remarkably white and his voice is very clear. Slightly whimsical and aloof sounding. Unless he is trying to sell himself as an investigator, in which case he does sound very serious.

History: From a young age, Richard had a tendency to be the peacekeeper, though he was never around any one place for very long. Once he had left his hometown, he found the life of New York City much more appealing than anything from his rural upbringing. He did notice a large spree of crimes in his early days and found himself fitting right in with the Night Watch.

His natural inquisitive nature soon got him all the way to marshal. It was then that he discovered the real horrors of the city, which soon disheartened him. Everything he tried to help ended up hurt or destroyed by corrupts the corrupt government. He had spent so much time attempting to fix the city, that on his fortieth birthday, he found himself a constable in a city he had really not even explored that much. Richard had never taken the time to go get him a lady and now it was looking a little late.

Morrison relinquished himself from being a constable and left New York City. Inspired by a French man who had started his own business of investigating, Richard traveled from town to town-solving thefts and other ails. Everywhere he went, he had heard tales of Harkstead, soon becoming enthralled anew, he boarded the next train he could get on to discover what was happening.

Reason to be here/things to do: He simply wants to know what is happening to Harkstead.

Personality: Inquisitive and curious, he has a gift for figuring out who someone is and quickly pegging them. He tends to get bored easily and will meander from subject to subject even in serious situations.

Power: Dissuasion: Morrison has an aura about him that makes everyone calmer. This allows him to break up even the most tense of fights as well as put people in a lull while questioning them.

Notable skills: He can open most locks due to questioning thieves about the subject.
Equipment: He had saved most of his salary and his briefcase is lined with a few thousand dollars, the rest still in his apartment. Aside from that, he also has standard inspection equipment.

[spoiler ]
Name: Richard Beakon

Background: Medical knowledge intuitive/based on power. Londoner

Age & Gender: Male, 38

Height & Weight: 5'10, 220 lbs.

Appearance: Linked to power, appears to be a mid twentyish male, brown hair and green eyes, pale skinned and fresh faced. Dresses smartly in suit tie and top hat.
Has a middle/upper class British accent (what is now thought of as Queens English)

Power: Has the ability to shape shift with some caveats. He must conserve the same mass, which he may do by altering the density of his muscle/bone. He can only form human biological material, which he can use in combat to make a bone sword out of his lower arm. Imitating people takes considerable effort to maintain as if he is not paying attention he may let specifics slip and he would have to be in contact with his victim for some time before being able to imitate them. He has considerable difficulty imitating women.

History: Born into a life or relative luxury, Richard had practically everything a young child could want, a doting mother and a warm, affectionate father (a well respected barrister) as well as a brother two years younger. Richards?s power first manifested at the age of thirteen when, upon cutting himself while playing with his brother he was able to heal his injury. Concealing his power from his parents he began to test its potential applications growing in confidence as the years past.
Richard upon coming of age decided to study medicine, perhaps partly driven by a selfish desire to further hone his skills but also to see if he could potentially use if for good. Finding little relevant he proceeded to look outside of the medical profession and contacted a number of people with occult interests in London.
Richard and his brother served in the West Indies fighting against the French. After witnessing thousands die of yellow fever Richard was left a changed man. While there he encountered a number of practitioners of the occult. Sympathizing with their plight and motivated by his curiosity he endeavored to shield them from the worst of the fighting but in doing so attracted the unwanted attention of high command. They in return felt obliged to answer his questions into their practices, and he slowly became a respected if not fully trusted member of their community.
In the closing days of the campaign his brother was shot and mortally wounded. Richard desperately tried to save him using a combination of his medical knowledge and his power, by transplanting some of his own tissue into his brother, but was halted by his operating room being stored by soldiers. These soldiers sent by high command prevented him from completing the operation, and arrested him for occult practices. His brother subsequently died of his injuries. Richard, upon the discovery of his brother?s death flew into a rage, escaped from confinement and slew his captors before coming to his senses. Upon realizing what he had done he fled to America to assume a new identity and forget about his past.

Reason to be here/things to do: See history/ fresh start

Personality: Externally amiable if not cheerful he is able to hold a pleasant conversation (probably about the weather) but covers a rather less sunny deposition. Will try to listen to all available information before deciding upon a plan of action, however he is often reluctant to change plans once he has settled on them. He is uncomfortable in situations in which he is not in possession of all the facts and therefore may take a more passive role it those environments.
When under pressure he makes cold, hard and rational decisions in order to give the best outcome possible, something that may occasionally put him on the wrong side of ethical.
Notable skills: Medical, dabbler in the occult/supernatural

Equipment: Surgical tools, large variety of clothing, range in size from 5'6 to 6'2. Not armed. Moderate amount of money.

[/spoiler]

All done. let me know if it requires changes.

*EDIT* Changes made

Spoiler: Bertram Isaac Scholar

Name: Mr. Bertram Isaac Scholar, Esq.

Background: Caucasian, Corporate Spokesman/Gambler, former Stage-Magician

Age & Gender: 43, Male

Height & Weight: 6'4", 150 lbs.

Appearance: Tall and broad-shouldered. Physically fit, but starting to put on weight. Long, but well-groomed, black hair that is starting to grey, worn with muttonchops and a straight and groomed goat-beard. Moderate scarring around his right eye, caused by a sporting accident, forcing him to wear a monocle. Prominent jowls rest on either side of a thin-lipped mouth with crooked, yellowing teeth and laugh-lines.

History: Born to an affluent family in Darson, Aven, the young master Scholar was taught by his father that everything in this world must be struggled for. Growing up, Bertram was made to earn his keep, doing far more around the house than could usually be expected of the son of a wealthy industrialist, performing duties usually delegated to the help.
One cold, snowy night when Bertram was only six, a charming stranger in a tattered brown suit appeared at the door, seeking shelter. Young Bertram's father was away from home at the time, his mother was in bed and the help were a cautious bunch and refused to let the man in. Bertram took pity on the poor fellow and allowed him entry. The charming stranger thanked him kindly and took a seat beside the fire. They spoke long into the night, though Bertram, curiously, could never remember what they spoke about. It all took on a dream-like quality.
Early in the morning, before sunrise, Bertram was woken by the sound of the stranger in brown leaving. The young man went downstairs where the charming stranger trying clumsily to unhitch the complicated latch on the front door greeted him. The stranger finally succeeded with the lock, and turned around to see the young boy at the foot of the stairs. He bowed low and thanked the lad for his hospitality, telling him he wished to pay the boy for his hospitality, passing him a small trinket and promptly leaving.
Young Bertram locked the latch and returned to bed, quickly losing the trinket his mysterious houseguest had given him, but not the gift.

From then on, Bertram found his life greatly improved by his newfound Gift, and the greedy young man found no problem with exploiting it.

After coming of age, Bertram became a stage magician, but soon found the life unfulfilling and since then has had a job as spokesman for his father's company: Amazing Power International.

Reason to be here/things to do: The company has come under hard times recently and has had to resort to shady business practices to survive. Bertram has come to the city to calm a protest that has broken out made up mostly of fired workers.

Personality: Generally cheerful and friendly, with a humorous disposition and a polite and magnanimous nature sometimes undercut by his natural greed and selfishness.

Power: Gift of the Gab= Mr. Scholar has quite the way with words. He has a minor form of psychic telepathy that informs him of what he needs to say next to keep any conversation going in the way he wants, and can create simple illusions (once made a royal flush out of a 4, a 3, an 8 and a joker that the dealer had failed to remove from the deck) through a combination of supernatural persuasion and distracting them before they catch on.


Notable skills: Sleight of Hand, marksmanship with pistol, card games (even without his power), understands people

Equipment: A repeater pistol hidden in his coat, passport, a letter opener, black top hat with a white band, blue shirt, brown suspenders, frilly white necktie, expensive black suit, cane of oak and ebony with brass highlights, expensive bronze pocket watch, gold-rimmed monocle, opera glasses, two sets of gloves (one black, one white)

Spoiler: Jacqueline 'Jacky" Sinnett

Name: Jacqueline 'Jacky' Sinnett

Background: British cat-burglar hailing from London, known by the police and press 'The Phantom's Shadow'

Age & Gender: Female, 22

Height: 5'7"

Weight: 140 lbs.

Appearance: Living on the streets of London a harsh and dangerous place for a woman at any time of the day, Jacqueline wears male clothing with an overly large bowler hat and with a long high collared coat to hide her face. She cuts her hair short in the style for the time, but because she does it herself it always looks slightly messy and shaggy and has blue eyes. During her time as a burglar and a thief she has become more lithe and athletic.

Spoiler: before she cut her hair

Spoiler: The Coat

History: Her father was originally a barber, so her early years were spent playing on the streets with the other urchins in the surrounding area. However that all changed when one her fathers clients recognized his skill for numbers and took him on as an accounted. They quickly moved to a classier side of London and her father started grooming her to become a young socialite and marry one of the richer families to ensure their wealth.

She quickly learned all the airs and graces needed to operate in polite society, and was able to charm any man with her wit and guile, but it always left her feeling empty. Missing her friends from where she had used to live, she would sneak out at night and race across the rooftops with them.

Stealing from houses the owners had been foolish enough to leave the windows open, she and her gang quickly made a reputation for them. When her father found out he was flabbergast, and banned her from leaving the house without his consent. Even going as far as locking the doors and windows to her room and positioning members of the household staff outside to make sure she didn't leave. She would spend her nights learning through practice how to pick locks, whenever she managed to get a tumblers to life and heard the click of the door unlocking she was overjoyed.

Gathering up any possession she could sell on the streets. She waited for the right night, when her father would be away to escape. A few days later, while selling the things she had stolen, she found out her father had put out a reward of a large sum of money for anyone who brought her back. She decided the only way to truly throw them of the scent was to disguise herself as a man.

Fearing that one of her friend might sell her out, Jacqueline quickly took to solo crimes to feed herself and keep a roof over her head, she started out the same as before stealing from houses left open, but without anyone to back her up she learned to move quicker and now knew by instinct where to find the most valuables.

She went from burgling small houses, to mansions and occasional museums within a year and is now a feared cat burglar that is known only to the police by 'The Phantom's Shadow' a name made up by the press.

Reason to be here/things to do: Jacqueline has heard that in the city of Harkstead she would be able to find valuable treasures of the new world.

Personality: Motivated by avarice she is determined and ruthless, doing whatever it takes to get what she wants. However the one thing she will never do when on a job is kill anyone, not because it is immoral, but because she considers doing it would be being a bad sport. She is optimistic and has a positive outlook on life, believing that if you want it, take it.

Power: Chameleon- Jacqueline can blend into the background, standing still and pressing up against a wall or in a group. She is unnoticeable until you know she?s there.

Notable skills: Acrobatics, lock picking, picking pockets.

Equipment: She carries the clothes she wears on her back, but has a small ball containing all the things she needs to get by. In her bag she carries some preserved food, a set of lock-picks and a black-jack to knock out guards with and some money made from fencing what she?s stolen.

Spoiler: John Mahoney

Name: John Mahoney
Background: Bare-Knuckle Boxer [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bare-knuckle_boxing] / Low Class dock worker/ Pianist, White, Londoner
Age & Gender: He isn't sure how old he is, Male
Height & Weight: 6'6" heavy build

Spoiler: Appearance

History:
London was this street urchin's play ground. No area could escape his curiosity and no street vendor was safe when he wanted something. He was the big kid amongst the other urchins, a protector of the smaller kids. But, he loved to play with kids that still had parents; it was his glimpse into a life he wanted. Life on the street was rough.
His favorite location was Thy Old Dragon's Pub down by the harbor. All hours he could sit outside and hear the piano. Sometimes sit in secret and watch people playing, for hours mimicking their hand movements. Until one night, a small gang of hooligans got out of hand and started to wreck the pub. John (about 10 years old)stepped in and took out the fully grown men out. The owner, Earl Mahoney, kept him around to keep the peace; paid him in piano lessons and small beers [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Small_beer#Small_beer]. Eventually adopting John a few years later.
The hooligans and others who heard about what happened kept coming in betting that John couldn't do it again. Week after week, fight after fight, brought in the money. John excelled as a bare knuckle fighter and pianist. He was often reminded that he was to ugly to bring in the "right" crowds for his music. It didn't matter to him, until his piano broke during a fight; John simply walked away never looking back.
After he traveling for a while trying to find a place that "felt right". John heard there was work in Harkstead and something deep inside him stirred. He can't explain it, but he feels this is where he is going to be at peace.

Reason to be here/things to do: Looking for a fresh start.

Power: Peak human Strength [powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Peak_Human_Strength] and Peak human stamina [powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Peak_Human_Stamina]due to his Enhanced Durability [http://powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Enhanced_Durability]. Not really able to feel strain on his body allowed him to overcome the normal limitations.
Notable skills: Athletics, Close combat, sheer brute strength, urban survival and playing the piano
Equipment: Plan trousers, beaten up army boots, suspenders, black bowler cap, Seaman's duffel bag full of random clothing and his passport (and other legal traveling papers).

 

[Raynoson]

Just a few reminders, Combat is spoken action, not direct. "Bill stabs Frank then knees his guts in." This is so wrong, the correct way is... "Bill tries to Stab Frank, and Knee him if he can". That's pretty much how it should go.
The same goes for powers and acting upon others.

At the start of your post in Bold please get used to posting where you are.

Bobby at the Harbor, if you do not know where you are simply put Bobby at Unknown as this will happen at times.

November 21, 18XX, Early Morning. Weather Clear/Chilly. 31 Days till Soltstice

Aboard the Passenger Car heading to Harkstead...

The early morning light seeps through the glass windows of the metal and wood, to the left still in sight is a mountain range looking ominous and strange, while to the right is open land, small towns, and the ocean in the distance.
With every shudder and creak, it seems like the car will fall apart, and is only held together by will and Newtons First Law.

Around 15 people sit facing one another on benches of two by two, their luggage and visible arms stored in a car behind them

Front of the Train Car
2 Other sets of seats.
---------------------------------------
(John)(Empty)----(Empty)(Bertram)
(facing-------------------------------
(Jacky)(Empty)----(Empty)(Rich. B)
---------------------------------------------------
(Lucrece)(Emtpy)----(Empty)(Rich. M.)->Benches
(Facing--------------------------Facing)->Direction Facing=One set of seats.
(Warren)(Empty)----(Empty)(Donal)->Benches
Back of the Train Car

Warren sits across from Lucrece on the left side, to their right is Donal and Richard M. in the back set of seats. (Each of you have a bench to yourselves in other words)

In the next set of seats are Richard B. and Bertram on the right, with Jacky on left, with Maho

 

[MortifiedPenguin]

Jacqueline-On the train headed for Harkstead

Jacqueline hadn't slept well, the train was rickety and felt like it would fall apart when it went around corners and down steep hills. She had dreamt that she had found the treasure she was seeking in Harkstead, but every time she reached out to grab it, her fingers would brush against it lightly then fall further away from her grasp.

She had snuck onto the train the night before when it had stopped to take on more coal and quickly found one if the emptier carriages. The brute opposite her had been asleep at the time, he still was. She theorised that he was going to Harkstead looking for job, she hard heard from the porters that the was no difficulty in finding work there. The tunnel always needed more men, more men to quicken the pace and some would inevitably die from rock slides.

She leant back against her chair to try to enjoy the view out of the window, but she hated it when she faced backwards on the train, seeing where you would never go and not knowing anything about the destination until you got there.

 

[Shadowstar38]

Warren. On the train headed for Harkstead

Warren sat erect in his seat with his eyes peering out the window. The morning light illuminated the grassy open lands. Seeing the sun rise on this day filled Warren with a small once of hope in his troubled time. He sneaked a peak at his fellow passengers every so often. A few of them looked like rather unsavory characters. In older days, he would never be sharing a standard passenger car with commoners.

Warren looked down at his feet and shook his head to remove the thought. He couldn't think like a nobleman anymore. This would be his life for the mean time. He removed his watch from his pocket and clicked it open. He still had a while to go before he reached his destination. Warren rested his eyes and relaxed to get a few more minutes of rest before he arrived.

Soon he'd be back to doing with he always loved. The sounds of machinery at work was the only thing in Warren's mind at the moment. And it slowly put him back in a state of bliss.

 

[drmigit2]

Morrison on the train

Richard was excited, something of an actual challenge had presented itself and those who would be accompanying him on this adventure seemed to be surrounded him, though perhaps some would leave he hoped at least a few would stay. He had moved to the side, away from the window to begin asking a few questions and regretted it. He liked windows, aside from what he could see outside there was only seats and iron floors. Still, despite himself, he surveyed the group.

Only one of the people on the train near him ever caught his eye, a woman dressed in British male clothing. While he never had a serious dislike for those who lived in slums, there was always the issue of him bringing all his money in one case and she looked the part of a thief. His years of experience told him to keep an extra eye on her, just in case. On the other hand and her polar opposite, was the lady sitting in the seat next to Morrison.

This woman was astonishingly beautiful. She had the distinct feel of a French noblewoman and seemed to act the part. She was quite a ways more worried looking when she got on the train, though once she had sat down, the lady calmed a bit. Richard had always had that effect on people, he never knew why, but took it as it was. The French woman was a bit overdone for Richard and he was beside himself if he should talk to her. Women hardly ever had any useful information regarding anything, but he seemed to be at a stand still, considering most would not appreciate him getting up to talk to them. Richard decided to strike a conversation.

"I suppose someone like you is coming to this town not by her own choice? Very few Aristocrats such as yourself would ever consider coming to America, let alone this town. What have you heard about it, if I may query?" To be honest, all Morrison knew was that something was happening and that nobody was trying to solve it.

 

[madox ford]

Richard B. on the train

This was not how Richard wanted to travel, if he wasn?t so desperate to flee he would have waited for a later train, but his desire to put as much space between him and his mistakes forced him to sit in this mockery of a train. He glanced up from his newspaper to observe the people around him. Opposite he saw a large man. Perhaps 6 foot 3 maybe 6 foot 4. He quickly scanned him for any noticeable features. Physically well built, scarring around his right eye. He looked at the man again before extending his arm to offer a hand shake and saying
"Pleasure to meet you I am Dr Beakon. Say do you happen to have a cigarette."

 

[RaNDM G]

Donal - On the train headed for Harkstead

Donal leans his head upon the window, his eyes looking straight into the horizon. No thoughts pass through his mind. He hopes it shall stay that way.

Leaving for Harkstead was a serious gamble, one that would pay off well or leave him overstocked. To many the trip would not seem worth the effort. Safeguarding a thousand dollars worth in bone and fur from the dangerous game stalking the Rockies, and a thousand more in tools and carvings traded from the Kalispel, the Spokane, the Nez Perce, more tribes and trappers than he can ever hope to keep track of. Dragging it all two thousand miles in a wagon from one end of the continent to the other. Loading it all onto a train and praying to God in Heaven it will not derail. All has gone well so far. He would make a killing selling to the masses in the East.

Who would want any of this junk?

Donal catches himself thinking again. Thinking only leads to stress, and stress is not what he needs. He reminds himself of what his father told him. Go out, and fate will settle itself.

 

[Terratina.]

Lucrece Leblanc - Harkstead-bound Train, Passenger Car

From the price of the tickets, she had expected luxury and this train was far from luxurious, and the rest of the people on this train looked like they were part of a circus, there was even a rather... feminine man. Well, that would be a change from the typical bearded woman you saw in freak shows. And the men! They were at least over the age of thirty, looking more like her previous clients that she would of liked. She took a drag on her cigarette, hoping that the rest of the travellers wouldn't object to the one luxury she allowed herself. A smirk made its way across her face, silently laughing to herself, she was but a prostitute born in the gutters of Paris, not some aristocrat! Still, she had enough material wealth to act the part... Wasn't this America the land of opportunity and social mobility? Maybe in spite of all the bad things fate threw at her to bring her here, Lucrece would grow be an aristocrat here in her own right.

She finished pacing up and down the carriage and sat down, feeling unusually calmer than before. One of the middle-aged men, American by his accent, tried to strike up a conversation with her. She didn't appreciate the attention, but what was there to do to spent time here on this rickety train, other than staring out the smog-filled windows? She sighed. Might as well humour the poor fellow....

"I suppose someone like you is coming to this town not by her own choice? Very few Aristocrats such as yourself would ever consider coming to America, let alone this town. What have you heard about it, if I may query?"

She sighed again, Americans and their manners, no wonder the British don't think highly of them...

"Monsieur, I think it would be better to introduce ourselves first, don't you think?" She replied, her voice coloured with a strong Parisian accent. She put down the cigarette holder on the window still and removed the lace glove on her right hand, offering a handshake, "I am Mme. Leblanc, who are you?"

 

[SkullKing84]

John Mahoney- Harkstead-bound Train, Passenger Car

Three long days and nights since he boarded the train with second thoughts racing through his head. Only countered by the deep sense of peace. A blank expression shined on his gargoyle face as time blurred into a half awake state. Half dreams shattered as he awoke from bonking his face against the filthy window.

Startled, and with a graveled gravestone voice "Uh.. er. Sorry." looking straight at the person across.Crooked broken smile spreads across his face. More awake, he looks around at the other passengers. Nods friendly to those who look back .
Closed his eyes and placed his meaty paw in front of him playing a pretend piano while humming Mozart.

Spoiler: OOC

Thousand times sorry miss-read, and had 5min before work. Slightly edited.. but same feel.

 

[drmigit2]

Richard Morrison, still on the train

"Monsieur, I think it would be better to introduce ourselves first, don't you think?" She replied, her voice coloured with a strong Parisian accent. She put down the cigarette holder on the window still and removed the lace glove on her right hand, offering a handshake, "I am Mme. Leblanc, who are you?"

Formalities, the Europeans always want to be formal...

Richard began staring up at the ceiling and looked at the window for a second. "Have you ever just looked out of the window on one of these Miss Leblanc? Quite soothing and I myself doing it all the time. Oh, right." He shook her hand and repeated the line he had to have said hundreds of times at this point. "Richard Morrison, Private Detective at your service! I am actually here on business and I would like to know anything you could tell me about this city called Harkstead."

Richard was already about to give up on her and possibly interview the man in front of him, perhaps he would be more to the point. Then perhaps looking out the window or maybe getting another book, or the paper. The paper was always interesting, if fictitious. Morrison had always joked that some of his fiction stories had more real news in them than the papers.

 

[Terratina.]

Lucrece Leblanc - Harkstead-bound Train, Passenger Car

Richard began staring up at the ceiling and looked at the window for a second. "Have you ever just looked out of the window on one of these Miss Leblanc? Quite soothing and I myself do it all the time. Oh, right." He shook her hand and repeated the line he had to have said hundreds of times at this point. "Richard Morrison, Private Detective at your service! I am actually here on business and I would like to know anything you could tell me about this city called Harkstead."

With both bare hands meeting contact, Lucrece braced herself for the small flashes of memory, those flashes would prove whether this man was who he said he was. Private detectives were seldom heard of, let alone seen in person. Lucrece found him to be odd, what spent time looking out of a window whose glass is so dirty you can't see anything? Other than that, she noted to herself that she felt oddly relaxated, ready to open up to this total stranger. She broke the handshake, put her lace glove back on, picked up the cigarette holder and took a deep drag, ready to see what few memories she can absorb.

A city at night, sirens going off in the distance, tweezers picking up broken glass, taking fingerprints off a weapon...​

With that, she decided this man was telling the truth and even more questions popped up in her mind: why the questions about Harkstead? What business had brought him here to the little town? Those would have to be answered later. For now she removed the cigarette hold from her mouth, holding to suggest an air of indifference and replied to the man's previous and present questions.

"Monsieur Morrison, I am here because with present circumstances, it is no longer safe for me in my home country. Political scheming, I'm sure you would understand. I have heard little about this town of Harkstead and have found no solace in looking out of dirty little windows."

 

[Raynoson]

<spoiler=OOC>I won't be acting very heavily until you run in to town. For now it is simply getting to know one another, establishing relations. Don't expect much action...

A Conductor entered the front, having already gotten tickets and fare earlier.
"Attention all Passengers. We'll be arriving in Harkstead in an hour or so, there may be some delay due to mining." His tone was civil, calm, and professional. Tinged with a tired feeling of a weary worker.


Looking around the Passengers to see if any of them needed anything. He stopped for a brief chat with an old man looking like an aged book scholar (librarian), with a book bound in leather clutched to his chest like a priest. Dressed for cold weather and greying short hair, he seemed pale compared to anyone there.

 

[drmigit2]

"Monsieur Morrison, I am here because with present circumstances, it is no longer safe for me in my home country. Political scheming, I'm sure you would understand. I have heard little about this town of Harkstead and have found no solace in looking out of dirty little windows."

Richard was now not even paying attention to her. She was about as useless as they came to him now, though burning bridges was not his strong suit so he diverted his attention back to her. "Ah, right. Yes I do suppose that would happen a lot. Unfortunate you chose this place to seek help in. It seems it can do little to help even itself at this moment. Perhaps you should give the windows another go."

"Attention all Passengers. We'll be arriving in Harkstead in an hour or so, there may be some delay due to mining."

Morrison sighed, he was anxious to get going, though there was another person who seemed that they might know something, if not he could make for a decent enough conversation. He was large enough and seemingly trusting enough to be superstitious, which was perfect for having basic knowledge on a town. The giant was obviously a hunter, wearing an assortment of dead animals that Morrison had not seen in the city much. He tapped the man's shoulder.

"Excuse me, I hope you do not mind my asking but, what brings you to Harkstead? Have you heard anything at all about it?"

 

[RaNDM G]

"What business is t'at of yours?"

He snaps at the detective. Clearly he's not in the mood to talk.

 

[SkullKing84]

John- Harkstead-bound Train, Passenger Car ...T-minus 1 hour

"Attention all Passengers. We'll be arriving in Harkstead in an hour or so, there may be some delay due to mining."

John opens his mouth as to say something profound, but only a sigh escapes his trap. Looking at the person across from him, it dons on John... He can't decide if its a guy or a woman.

"So...er.. Whats all dis then? Going Harkstead fer ...er.. Business or pleasure?" Gravestone gravel of a voice floats on over.

His meaty hands fidget on as if trying to play a tiny child's piano.

 

[MortifiedPenguin]

Jacqueline-On the train headed for Harkstead

The brute in front of her woke suddenly, banging his head on the dirt stained window. It seemed that he had startled himself, but Jacqueline hadn't expected him to be the sharpest tool in the box. He apologised and smiled, showing off a rack of chipped and broken teeth and started humming and playing on an imaginary piano. She recognised it as Mozart, one of his later piano concertos but she couldn't remember the exact name.

"So...er.. Whats all dis then? Going Harkstead fer ...er.. Business or pleasure?"

"Business."She said in low voice

The pretend playing was nice, but she wouldn't learn anything about Harkstead from him, she could hear small snippets of conversation from the back of the carriage and decided that would be the best the place to learn some information. She dug her hands deeply into the pockets of her coat, kept her head down, and walked towards the luggage compartment.

Spoiler: OOC

I'm guessing the luggage would be towards the back, if not you can correct me

 

[SkullKing84]

John- Harkstead-bound Train, Passenger Car

John figures it must been something he said as he watches him/her walk away. Then looks at his hands imagining how life is gonna be from now on, and again playing that imaginary piano. Humming Beethoven's moonlight sonata.

 

[Terratina.]

Lucrece Leblanc - Harkstead-bound Train, Passenger Car

"Ah, right. Yes I do suppose that would happen a lot. Unfortunate you chose this place to seek help in. It seems it can do little to help even itself at this moment. Perhaps you should give the windows another go."

Lucrece snorted as the man walked away to trouble another passenger. Windows, windows, windows, this Morrison was like a broken record and to add the tune, the Conductor said this piece about the arrival time and delays. She didn't care, as long as she got there safe and sound. Meanwhile, the feminine man was talking to a huge gentlemen, the size of a bull. Lucrece tried eavesdropped on the conversation, it wasn't a remotely interesting one but what was interesting was the pitch of the feminine man's voice. It was than of either of very young man who's voice had just broken, or a woman trying to impersonate a man. She was snapped from her thoughts by the sight of the conversation ending and the slender man walking towards her end of the train.

Time to take the opportunity, She stood up to stop him while he continued on the luggage carriage and she noticed that even if he was in fact a woman, he was tall. Towering over her by about three inches. The man with a bowler hat was surprised, he hadn't expected to be interrupted in a manner like this, to break the awkward silence, she tried to start a conversation. Searching for something to speak about,

"Excusez-moi, forgive me but, you have an... odd appearance. How about we introduce ourselves to one another?"

 

[MortifiedPenguin]

Jacqueline-On the train headed for Harkstead

She was making her way down the aisle towards the luggage compartment when a short woman, French judging by her accent, stood up suddenly getting in her way. She would have been tempted to steal the French woman's jewellery, but there would have been to many witnesses and nowhere to escape to. There was no use trying to pickpocket her either, the dress she was wearing had no pockets she could see.

"Excusez-moi, forgive me but, you have an... odd appearance. How about we introduce ourselves to one another?"

Damn! If she hadn't said anything Jacqueline could've just barged through.

"Jacky, ma'am" She said in the same low tone" Now if you excuse me, I need to get by"

 

[Terratina.]

Lucrece Leblanc - Harkstead-bound Train, Passenger Car

Even with the jumbled phrasing of her sentences, in part to due to nervousness and in part due to her loose grasp on the English language, the man(?) replied without hesitation. Though he left the impression that he was in a hurry to get to the luggage carriage. Lucrece didn't care about that, she would have her way. This person looked like the only one who she could have a decent, albeit short, conversation with.

"Jacky, ma'am" She said in the same low tone "Now if you excuse me, I need to get by"

She replied in the same manner as she with Morrison - a polite introduction and the offer of a handshake. Surely he would have time for one simple handshake?

"Mme. Leblanc," Lurcece said, extending the un-gloved hand, "I wonder what brings someone like you to Harkstead..."

Like one of her smoke rings, she left the question in the air, whether or he would bat it away or not was up to him. Either way, she would get some answers to this enigma.