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Trinity Universe: The game's afoot!


Heritage

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Borris is at the front door puting a leash of bernard for the fist time tonight.

Come now Y'all! we're fixin to leave in five minutes.

Borris grabs one of the house servents.

Where's Miss Bethany? I need to know if she's already placed an order with a seamstress so the I can pick fetch it for her after we figure out Mr. Reuben's past.

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The servant explains to Borris that the dress will take some time, and that the Society will attend to the delivery when it is finished. The dressmaker is called Sorenson's, and it's downtown on State Street, near Marshall Fields and the other big department stores.

Johnny Atomo grabs his coat and scarf.

My car's out back in the carriage house if anyone cares to ride - the XR 1 has a special heater installed for comfort!

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OOC: I thinks that's been enouph posts to Contitute the remaining Four minutes. So if you're planing on coming with us post now or else you'll have to chase us after we leave.

Looks Like we have a sturdy enouph gang here to handle any trouble the might come up.  Now Mr Reuben hope you dont mind but Bernards going to have to get a wiff of ya. Get the scent, go on get it, get that scent boy!

A very excited Bernard Starts to sniff Reuben intently. After a few seconds he heads for the door straining againt the leash.

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Johnny heads towards the back door.

I'll bring the XR 1 around front!

In a jiffy, a sleek and powerful white roadster pulls up in from of the building, looking more like a racing plane with its wings cut off than a traditional automotive. There's a noise like a foghorn that shakes the snow off half the trees on the block. Johnny's head pokes out the driver's side window.

Ain't she a beauty! Just put in the new horn. Hop in, gents - we can follow the pooch in style and comfort!

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Anthony raises an eyebrow at the car.

"Sorry, but will that not break up any footprints that may give us a clue?"

He glances down at the dog for a second.

"I know the hound stands a good chance of leading us where we wish to go, but surely we should take all the evidence into account?"

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Bernard with his nose to the ground starts to stiff at the ground at seaming ly randon points untill he got the trail.

Yep I think he's got it! Y'All better jump in the the car if yer not fixin ta get left behind.  Ya sure you can keep up with Ol' Bernard there Reuben. You... Whow there...

Borris is cut off gets pulled along by Bernard.

OOC: ??? What way are we going GM?   ???

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I will walk also.  Following behind in a car, and an impressive car it is Mr. Atomo, just doesn't allow me to...well, analyze the scene as we travel.  We wouldn't want to overlook a possible clue now would we?

Aljandro Follows quickly behind Rueben and Boris, cane in hand and coat snapping brisquely in the cold winter wind.

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OOC: And here comes another.

*Tariq walks down the road, whereing a smalll fall like jacket and are those sandals on his feet?  His skin is dark black though, and his features are like those of a man from the Deepest Jungles of the Congo.  On his neck their is a necklace of Kali, with her arms extended.  His clothes under his black coat are rather odd looking.  He has a pair of loose black pants, like those of one worn in the desert.  His arms are covered in a gray suit, and over his head is something like a Turban, but as any cultured man would know it is what a Tuareg man wheres.  The Turban has a bit of veil infront of it that covers his face only showing his eyes.  Being in America, he is odviously an odd sight with his odd cultural sense of clothing. He notices the dog and can't help but lean down and pet it*

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OOC: And here we go...

IC:

-An old truck makes it's rumbling way down the road, the silent passenger wrapped in an old blanket in the bed, showing no other indication that he even notices the cold. A sligth smile on his face as he watches the stars, he barely even notices when the truck slows down.-

"Hey, buddy!" calls the older man up front,"There's some folks in th' road an' I'm in a hurry...mind if'n I drop ya' here?"

Nodding and standing up, a worn man of indeterminate age shrugs off the blanket and stuffs it into an equally worn duffle bag.

"Not at all, Sir. My thanks for your help,"he says, coming around the front and offering the driver a few dollars, which are turned away.

"Nah, nah. It's no skin off my back, son. I just hope y' find those Aeon folks you were talkin' about," And with that the man drives off...

...leaving Lawrence Wells, dressed in old tussled clothes along with the old duffle, standing in the street as the group moves closer.

"Hello, would any of you know the way to the Aeon Society?"

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* back at the main building * a woman that appears to be in her mid-twenties walks through the main door, cautiously surveying the assembled crowd. she is a highly attractive brunette with striking features, although dressed in an unflatteringly large and out of fashion man's suit. she pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket and checks it, seemingly satisfied she returns it to her pocket. she begins a slow measured pace around the main room watching the various guests.

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OOC- Agh! Character overload! How'd this forum get so popular all of a sudden? :nervous

My first response is blind panic, followed quickly by my desire to be a good host. So saying, welcome Umoja, MikeMc and harlequin! We've got a group of PCs off on a little mini-quest right now, and you're welcome to come, though your characters might not know what the hell is going on.

Or you can head inside the chapterhouse, where it's warm, there's plenty to eat and drink, and you can mingle with each other or with a few NPCs who are floating about. Up to you, but if you want in on the Hunt for Where Rueben Came From, step lively!

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Johnny, his head still sticking out the window of the XR 1, raises a eyebrow at the sight of the mysterious stranger petting Borris, but offers him a friendly smile nonetheless.

Little cold for that get up, isn't it?

\"Hello, would any of you know the way to the Aeon Society?\"

Johnny cranes his neck to answer the fellow in the ragged clothes.

It's the big brown house right over there - if you're a member, tell 'em Johnny Atomo sent you. Now if you'll  excuse me, we're about to head out for a little jaunt in this winter wonderland.

OOC - Painheart, in answer to your earlier question, the trail heads south down Astor Place.

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*back at the chapter house*

Dr. Berger emerges from his lab, his hair slightly tousled, straghtening his jacket. His keen eyes dart about, suddenly falling on the beautiful new face wearing the odd apparel. Intrigued, he approaches her.

Pardon me, madam, but I do not recognize you, and I have quite the memory for faces, particularly when they are as striking as yours.

Allow me to introduce myself - I'm Doctor Maximilian Berger.

After which he makes a rather stiff formal bow.

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The woman takes in every little detail of the doctor as she turns to face him. Her face radiates a naivete and innocence that the bitterness in her eyes grossly contradict. She hesitates a moment longer than most people would, staring, before replying.

"My name is Jiro. (zh-iro)  The last time I was here was nearly a year ago, and I don't believe I ever left the Library."

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Seeing that this large asortment of people, apparently all members of the Society, are involved in whatever is going on Lawrence decides that they likely have little need for his help.

"My thanks!"he calls as he turns, hikes the bag further on his shoulder, and heads off to the big house. The odd ensemble fades into the background as he comes closer to his destination and cleans his feet off on the outside mat before knocking firmly,"Hello?"

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Sir, I don't mean to be rude but Bernard here is a bit occupied.  You see we are trackin' down someone who is lost.

Bernard looks up to Borris as if to say 'That's ok I can be petted"  Then he rises up on back legs and rests his front paws on Tarjiq's chest looking confused as to how his supposed to lick the newcomer's face.

To revoice Mr.Atomo's question how is it that you find yourself her in this cold place dressed as you are.

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Dr. Berger appears to be somewhat unconfortable with Jiro's intense gaze - he fidgets, smoothes back his hair, and offers a somewhat strained smile.

Yes, the Library...quite large, isn't it? I've spent many an afternoon lost in it myself.

After a moment, his body gives a little involuntary shake, and he continues.

Are you here for the lectures? Two of the speakers are currently unavailable, but myself and Mr. Enkidu are still here. I suppose if there's still interest, we'll continue as planned.

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Johnny watches Tariq's back as he continues on towards the chapter house.

What an odd fellow! Must be a member.

He barks a loud laugh at his little joke, then turns to the others.

Shall we?

OOC- Unless people have extensive dialoge they'd like to write (and more power to you if you do), we can follow Bernard to the end of the trail in one fell swoop. Is this alright with people?

It will however make mincemeat out of the relative timelines between folks on the hunt and folks at the chapter house, but if Berger and Enkidu do their lectures, we can maybe dovetail everything back together.

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Yes, the Library...quite large, isn't it? I've spent many an afternoon lost in it myself. Are you here for the lectures? Two of the speakers are currently unavailable, but myself and Mr. Enkidu are still here. I suppose if there's still interest, we'll continue as planned.

Again Jiro pauses just a second to long before replying. "It is, it is. Although I must say I was rather disappointed with it, and all other libraries I have visited. But that is neither here nor there.

Jiro looks slightly uncomfortable for a fleeting moment then continues.

"Yes, the lectures. You'll have to forgive me, I've been buried under my work as of late. What are the subjects of tonights lectures?"

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Lawrence smiles broadly at the polished servant, snapping his heels together and straightening his back.

"Well, I am interested on the Bamboo lecture by the gorilla," he says, offering a hand,"But the invitation I've got wasn't originally mine. There was a fellow on a train I'd jumped not too long ago that saw me in a fight, kept mumbling to himself about numbers and probabilities and the "biology of energy," and he handed me this invitation. Told me to make my way to the AEon Society...said his name was Dr. Chris Sansmith, Member in Good Standing? Lawrence Wells is my name, Sir."

And as Lawrence speaks he makes small gestures, immitating mannerisms and other more vague motions, finally offering his hand with his name.

---

OOC: Hope no one minds me making up an AEon Society contact. -chuckles- And at this point I'd be fine with going through the lectures.

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Thankfully Reuben's trail is quite fresh, and Bernard only has difficulty finding the scent a few times. However, the going is slow because the trail is convoluted, doubling back down brick-paved alleys, darting across trolley tracks and even through a walled private garden behind a formidible mansion.

Eventually the intrepid hunters leave the more posh environs of the Gold Coast behind as they cross over into a realm of shabby tenements, grubby factories and grim sweatshops. It's now past four o'clock, and starting to get dark; the sky is overcast, and the sickly yellow light that creeps from under doors and from behind shuttered windows provides the only illumination. The few people they encounter on the street are little more than walking bundles of rags that reek of strong drink

Soon the smell of the North Branch of the Chicago River hits them like a wall of stench, its icy waters clogged with dumped waste from the tanneries further north. Handkerchiefs clutched to their faces, they push through this invisible barrier.

At length, Bernard stops and whines, the walking soceity members pause, and Johnny pulls the XR 1 to a halt. They stand at the river's edge - before them is a dilapidated railroad swivel bridge, it's crude steel frame encrusted with rust, the wooden ties cracked and swollen. The water below, barely visible in the gathering gloom, is covered in a pale gray layer of fractured ice.

On the other side of the span is Goose Island, a man-made block of warehouses and factories about a mile long and half a mile across that squats low in the middle of the North Branch. Based upon Bernard's behaviour, the trail seems to continue over the bridge, but he is reluctant to cross.

The streets are now empty, the cold air silent.

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OOC-I'm going to breeze over some time here with a bit of description, which will put both the trackers and the chapter house guests in the same time frame, around five pm. Remeber, it's December, so it's probably almost dark!

Lawrence is admitted to the chapter house with a barely audible sniff, his coat is gingerly taken at arm's length (the servant looks tempted to hurl it into the incinerator), and he is shown into the main reading room where he might partake of hot coffee and cold sandwiches.

Dr. Berger, still apparently flustered by Jiro's demeanor, excuses himself to prepare some slides for his lecture.

Bethany Morgan eventually returns, wearing a new coat and followed by her personal servant, whose legs buckle under the weight of several packages and hatboxes. Bethany sees to the delivery of her new wardrobe up to her rooms, enjoys a slender cigarette and coffee, and chats with any men who seem to suit her fancy.

Mr. Enkidu, the distinguished guest from the Congo, has yet to make an appearance.

At length, it's five minutes before five o'clock- the tables are cleared and removed, additional chairs brought in and the electric lights flashed a few times to signal the begining of the evening's lectures. The various society members bustle about, trying to find a seat near their appropriate clique without toppling an elderly gentleman or stepping in a plate of pastries carelessy left on the floor.

The lectures are about to begin.

OOC- That's all the energy I have for tonight (it's 4 am Chicago time), but I'll be back on some time Saturday evening. Later!

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Not at all offended by the servant's treatment of his coat, Lawrence understands pretty well his current situation, the young man smiles and heads inside. Standing in the doorway a moment he looks around for the "best" seat, gets some coffee with a few sandwiches, and waits for the whole thing to begin.
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Jiro seems rather shocked by the Doctor's swift and wordless departure. Her mouth opens once, possibly to call after him, she thinks better of it, then her face sets into a firm disapproving gaze. Noticing the flickering lights she looks about and seems to consider taking a seat, but appears to come to the descision to stand in the back.

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OOC- Okay, evidentally I either did something wrong, or everyone's been very busy lately, because none of the hunter group has made any move to cross the bridge. Did I overwrite that post, or leave people with the expectation that I was going to add something else? I'm sorry if I somehow confused things, but over the bridge is where the trail goes. Or are we waiting on Painheart and his trusty dog? Dude, where are you?

I myself have been scarce, due to fighting off some kind of awful resperatory infection, and since my PC is in a dank basement, my visits down here have been rare, so I apologize on that front.

That being said, I shall return us to the lectures....

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OOC- Again, another big chunk of time is about to be covered; forgive me if you see an opputunity where your character might have changed events, but this is what is commonly called 'boxed text' in RPGA circles. There will be plenty of time to affect events after this big fat wad of exposition rolls on through.

IC- As Mister Atomo is not available, it is decided that Dr. Berger will present his lecture, followed by Mr. Enkidu and then Miss Morgan. If he returns later, Mr. Atomo will be given the final slot.

A rather more collected  Berger now strides up to the stage. He pulls down a white canvas screen and fiddles with a magic lantern on a stand, which throws his first slide onto the canvas. It's a detailed drawing of a full set of healthy human teeth. Berger plucks a pointer off the stand, brandishes it like a fencing foil, and begins.

It has often been said that the eyes are the window to the soul; well, that may work well for poets and dreamers, but the truth of the matter is that you can learn far more from a man's teeth than you can ever gleen from his eyes. His age, diet, economic background, the thouroghness of his toilet: all these things are inscribed vividly on the surface of the enamel.

The next hour is excruciating, except for perhaps the most hardy of souls. It's not that the topic of dental castings in criminolgy is uninteresting (though it's quite obvious from the amount of muttered conversations in the hall that many find it so), but it has more to do with the demeanor of Dr. Berger himself. His tone is severe and reproachful; no one can tell when his questions are direct or rhetorical, and he positively seethes if someone's hand timidly rises out of turn.

As the lecture progresses, Berger responds to the crowd's apparent indifferance with increasing hostility; one harmless old society matron flees the room in tears after he brutally analyzes the state of her teeth and what they say about her 'pathetic, petty and entirely pointless existance'.

Several of the more strong-willed members seem ready to pull him from the stage. Bethany Morgan, her face white with wordless rage, clutches her handbag so tightly that a bloodstain wells up inside her white glove. But before the crowd can successfuly transform itself into a mob, Berger snaps off the light on the magic lantern, collects his slides, and slips off the stage and out of sight.

The room bursts into heated conversation, peppered with a great many exclamations; Berger is described in absentia as a 'bugger', 'rotter', 'mean-spirited knave' and 'a right bastard' by the British members, and things even less savory by the Americans. The Continetal membership merely sighs, shakes its collective head and looks superior.

It is then announced that Mr. Enkidu will soon be taking the stage, and the attitude in the room goes through a sudden and remarkable transformation. Hushed excited whispers replace venomous barbs as the members scurry back to their seats, giddy as schoolchildren. After all, it's not often that one hears a lecture delivered by a mountain gorilla, and those that a familiar with Mr. Enkidu speak highly of his charm and grace.

The lights dim, and a prodigious shuffling can be heard; excited whispers and muffled glee shoot through the crowd like staic electricity. A massive shadow climbs the stage, which groans under its prodigius weight. There are a few metallic clanks, and some heavy object is dragged across the boards without effort. Then all is still.

Suddenly a spotlight hits the stage and crowd stands as one, cheering enthusiatically. Standing six feet high at the shoulder and weighing well over 500 pounds, Enkidu is an awesome sight. He appears to be grinning and shaking his head excitedly, gesturing with his great forepaws for the crowd to remain seated, but they are having none of it. He gently plucks off his pince-nez and wipes his eyes as the applause finally tapers off and everyone resumes their seats.

Behind him is a large metallic device that looks somewhat like Berger's magic lantern, but with a typewriter attached. Enkidu turns to it and carefully taps the keys; large glowing letters appear on the canvas screen.

Thank you for the warm welcome. I am very happy to here at the Aeon Society. I am sorry my English is not better.

Gentle laughter from the crowd.

I am hoping that you will find this lecture interesting. The subject is very near and dear to me. My people have enjoyed the taste of bamboo shoots for hundreds of years. But only recently have I learned about the many medicinal properties of bamboo. The Chinese have used-

Suddenly there is a sharp report, as from a bottle of champaigne being opened. Endiku lets out a pained cry, clutches his chest, and topples forward right through the floor of the stage. Someone cries out-

Dear God, they've shot Enkidu!

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