Post by TheUdjat on Jan 11, 2008 9:43:59 GMT -5
[I saw no disagreement with Tommy’s initial plan to split up, so I’m going ahead with it. His last post about the specific groups seems fairly logical, but if anybody would like to switch groups, they’re welcome to do so.
It can be assumed you all established a place and time to meet back up again. Tommy and Rebecca will take the longest, as they must actually trek up to Boston for the day, but the other two teams are welcome to regroup sometime midday, if they like.]
Everyone-
After some discussion, Tommy proposes splitting up, and as he has a certain amount of professional experience with following up obscure leads, the others defer to his wisdom. He outlines his suggestions as to who should go where, and then must prepare to leave, almost immediately. A train up to Boston and back, not to mention time spent at Harvard’s library, will undoubtedly take up most of the day – hopefully the trip will prove more fruitful than the talk with Cowles.
Sam and Joe prepare to drop by Prospero House, to see what Elias’s publisher may know – and to ensure that he is forewarned of the possible danger he is in. Nobody wants to witness another sickening, ritualistic murder.
Dr. Osgood, “Jackhammer” Joe, and Jeremy head off to find out what happened to Samuel, and perhaps find this Silas N’Kwane.
Rebecca and Tommy-
The pair hurry to New York City’s Grand Central Terminal, and are pleased to note that they have arrived just in time for a train to Boston – fortune appears to be on their side, at least for now. The two quickly hop on the train (ironically probably the same route Rebecca took to arrive in New York in the first place), and prepare for the lengthy trip to Boston’s South Station, from which a taxi to Cambridge can be sought.
The four hour journey is painstakingly boring, though as exhausted as both are, it would be thoroughly possible to catch a nap with the steady movements of the train helping. That is, of course, if either would be willing to relax long enough to actually rest.
Regardless, at long last, Rebecca and Tommy arrive in Boston, the southerly winter sun high in the sky – approaching, if not already at, noon. From Boston’s South Station, they catch a nickel tax west a few miles to Harvard University in Cambridge. It drops the pair off at Harvard’s College Yard, just a couple of blocks from the Charles River, where it only takes a handful of minutes to find the massive Widener Library, nestled amongst a plethora of other university structures, standing opposite the old Memorial Church.
Rebecca can’t help but look around and appreciate the size and majesty of this, the oldest institution of higher learning in the country. That chance to actually step into the library, one of the grandest in the world, holds a wonder all its own – inside are 57 miles of bookshelves, with 3 million books resting upon them. It’s almost enough to forget, for just a moment, the terrible purpose that has brought her here.
Almost.
But surely if there is any place that holds the knowledge of what that horrible symbol means, this would be it.
Stepping into the library, Rebecca and Tommy are immediately overwhelmed by the ominous silence of this place, the way the cavernous building engulfs them, drawing them into its demesne. Rebecca, more familiar with the interior of a large library from her own experiences at Miskatonic, recovers first, quickly leading the pair to the front desk, from which they will surely be able to find Miriam Atwright.
A youngish woman dressed to severe modesty awaits them, watching with alert, patient eyes. “May I help you?” she asked, eyes flickering over Tommy with a sort of apprehensive curiosity. He certainly resembles neither professor nor student.
Sam and Joe-
Once the others are on their way, it’s only a short walk to Lexington Avenue and 35th St., where Prospero House awaits. It is a smallish publisher, meant for publishing books with and occult or supernatural slant, both fiction and non-fiction. The authors and editors that work there keep irregular hours, as such people are wont to do, but the atmosphere is relaxed and informal. Sam has been by the office a time or two in the distant past, and time has not much changed things at Prospero House.
Inside, a clerk easily locates Jonah Kensington, who eagerly receives Sam and his guest. Kensington is in his older mid-life, with a thick brown beard and the lines etching across his forehead of a man who furrows his brow when deeply immersed in a book. He shakes Sam’s hand warmly, and the look in his eyes erases any doubt – he already knows that Elias is dead.
“Please, Sam, come in.” He gestures into his office, motioning to a pair of chairs opposite his own, behind the desk. “The police told me about Jackson last night, and your name came up as a witness. I gave you a ring this morning, but your office said you weren’t in.” He smiles sadly. “I wish I could afford to do the same.”
He shakes his head. “This is a sad day, Sam. But tell me, what brings you here? I hadn’t expected to see you in person so soon.” He finally seems to notice Joe, blinking his eyes. “And my apologies! I’m Jonah Kensington. Did you know Jackson as well?”
Thurman, Jackhammer, Jeremy-
While the others pursue interviews, the doctor, the idiot, and the prizefighter are left with a more difficult task: tracking down a missing man. And more than that, a missing homeless man. ‘Needle in a haystack’ doesn’t begin to cover it.
But there are some places that can be checked immediately. Jeremy can easily guide the others to the place he and Samuel were standing last night, when Jackson Elias spoke with them. It is a street corner of no remarkable condition, except that it is located near to where people walk frequently for business. It is upon such street corners that Jeremy used to perform, with Samuel playing accompanying music. But of course, Samuel is not there.
With his rather remarkable capacity for remembering details, Jeremy is able to retrace the precise words and steps of this conversation if he so desires. [See The Meeting With Elias – 01 and 02 for details of the conversation.] Jeremy can also remember precisely the direction Samuel turned to run – down the street, to the nearest police box, frequently seen along certain streets for contacting the authorities. Surely that is where he left to.
[Making some assumptions.] Having little else to go on, the trio head down in that direction, combing the area for possible clues about Samuel’s mysterious disappearance.[Spot checks. Jeremy and Jackhammer succeed.] While searching the area, it is understandably Jeremy who first notes a flute half-hidden under some refuse. Picking up the instrument, it is undoubtedly Samuel’s – every little dent and imperfection of the well-used instrument is the same, with one exception: the entire flute is bent at one point. Though Jeremy would not recognize it, Jackhammer and Thurman can see the telltale signs of an object used as a weapon.
Soon thereafter, Jackhammer also notices a torn piece of fabric pinned to a jagged brick of some building. Based on how the piece of cloth was torn, it can be guessed that something forcefully pulled the garment – and presumably whoever wore it – into an alley crossing this street. Jeremy recognizes the fabric as wool matching Samuel’s heavy, dirty coat.
Undoubtedly Samuel was taken against his will. But there is no blood in the alley, or on the streets. Although it is a small comfort, Samuel was not killed – at least not here.
But then, where?
Perhaps some of the other homeless or someone out late at night saw something, but the likelihood of this is questionable. Beyond that, if someone saw it, would they be willing to share any information on it, considering the fate that befell Samuel?
There is also the business card, tucked away in Thurman’s coat for safekeeping. ‘Emerson Imports’. ‘Silas N’Kwane’. Samuel knew these names, and it is this information that surely led to his disappearance.
With the address of Emerson Imports in hand, it would be easy to catch a taxi to the business. But how wise would such a thing? Surely in broad daylight it would be safe...
[Let me know your next course of action.]
It can be assumed you all established a place and time to meet back up again. Tommy and Rebecca will take the longest, as they must actually trek up to Boston for the day, but the other two teams are welcome to regroup sometime midday, if they like.]
Everyone-
After some discussion, Tommy proposes splitting up, and as he has a certain amount of professional experience with following up obscure leads, the others defer to his wisdom. He outlines his suggestions as to who should go where, and then must prepare to leave, almost immediately. A train up to Boston and back, not to mention time spent at Harvard’s library, will undoubtedly take up most of the day – hopefully the trip will prove more fruitful than the talk with Cowles.
Sam and Joe prepare to drop by Prospero House, to see what Elias’s publisher may know – and to ensure that he is forewarned of the possible danger he is in. Nobody wants to witness another sickening, ritualistic murder.
Dr. Osgood, “Jackhammer” Joe, and Jeremy head off to find out what happened to Samuel, and perhaps find this Silas N’Kwane.
Rebecca and Tommy-
The pair hurry to New York City’s Grand Central Terminal, and are pleased to note that they have arrived just in time for a train to Boston – fortune appears to be on their side, at least for now. The two quickly hop on the train (ironically probably the same route Rebecca took to arrive in New York in the first place), and prepare for the lengthy trip to Boston’s South Station, from which a taxi to Cambridge can be sought.
The four hour journey is painstakingly boring, though as exhausted as both are, it would be thoroughly possible to catch a nap with the steady movements of the train helping. That is, of course, if either would be willing to relax long enough to actually rest.
Regardless, at long last, Rebecca and Tommy arrive in Boston, the southerly winter sun high in the sky – approaching, if not already at, noon. From Boston’s South Station, they catch a nickel tax west a few miles to Harvard University in Cambridge. It drops the pair off at Harvard’s College Yard, just a couple of blocks from the Charles River, where it only takes a handful of minutes to find the massive Widener Library, nestled amongst a plethora of other university structures, standing opposite the old Memorial Church.
Rebecca can’t help but look around and appreciate the size and majesty of this, the oldest institution of higher learning in the country. That chance to actually step into the library, one of the grandest in the world, holds a wonder all its own – inside are 57 miles of bookshelves, with 3 million books resting upon them. It’s almost enough to forget, for just a moment, the terrible purpose that has brought her here.
Almost.
But surely if there is any place that holds the knowledge of what that horrible symbol means, this would be it.
Stepping into the library, Rebecca and Tommy are immediately overwhelmed by the ominous silence of this place, the way the cavernous building engulfs them, drawing them into its demesne. Rebecca, more familiar with the interior of a large library from her own experiences at Miskatonic, recovers first, quickly leading the pair to the front desk, from which they will surely be able to find Miriam Atwright.
A youngish woman dressed to severe modesty awaits them, watching with alert, patient eyes. “May I help you?” she asked, eyes flickering over Tommy with a sort of apprehensive curiosity. He certainly resembles neither professor nor student.
Sam and Joe-
Once the others are on their way, it’s only a short walk to Lexington Avenue and 35th St., where Prospero House awaits. It is a smallish publisher, meant for publishing books with and occult or supernatural slant, both fiction and non-fiction. The authors and editors that work there keep irregular hours, as such people are wont to do, but the atmosphere is relaxed and informal. Sam has been by the office a time or two in the distant past, and time has not much changed things at Prospero House.
Inside, a clerk easily locates Jonah Kensington, who eagerly receives Sam and his guest. Kensington is in his older mid-life, with a thick brown beard and the lines etching across his forehead of a man who furrows his brow when deeply immersed in a book. He shakes Sam’s hand warmly, and the look in his eyes erases any doubt – he already knows that Elias is dead.
“Please, Sam, come in.” He gestures into his office, motioning to a pair of chairs opposite his own, behind the desk. “The police told me about Jackson last night, and your name came up as a witness. I gave you a ring this morning, but your office said you weren’t in.” He smiles sadly. “I wish I could afford to do the same.”
He shakes his head. “This is a sad day, Sam. But tell me, what brings you here? I hadn’t expected to see you in person so soon.” He finally seems to notice Joe, blinking his eyes. “And my apologies! I’m Jonah Kensington. Did you know Jackson as well?”
Thurman, Jackhammer, Jeremy-
While the others pursue interviews, the doctor, the idiot, and the prizefighter are left with a more difficult task: tracking down a missing man. And more than that, a missing homeless man. ‘Needle in a haystack’ doesn’t begin to cover it.
But there are some places that can be checked immediately. Jeremy can easily guide the others to the place he and Samuel were standing last night, when Jackson Elias spoke with them. It is a street corner of no remarkable condition, except that it is located near to where people walk frequently for business. It is upon such street corners that Jeremy used to perform, with Samuel playing accompanying music. But of course, Samuel is not there.
With his rather remarkable capacity for remembering details, Jeremy is able to retrace the precise words and steps of this conversation if he so desires. [See The Meeting With Elias – 01 and 02 for details of the conversation.] Jeremy can also remember precisely the direction Samuel turned to run – down the street, to the nearest police box, frequently seen along certain streets for contacting the authorities. Surely that is where he left to.
[Making some assumptions.] Having little else to go on, the trio head down in that direction, combing the area for possible clues about Samuel’s mysterious disappearance.[Spot checks. Jeremy and Jackhammer succeed.] While searching the area, it is understandably Jeremy who first notes a flute half-hidden under some refuse. Picking up the instrument, it is undoubtedly Samuel’s – every little dent and imperfection of the well-used instrument is the same, with one exception: the entire flute is bent at one point. Though Jeremy would not recognize it, Jackhammer and Thurman can see the telltale signs of an object used as a weapon.
Soon thereafter, Jackhammer also notices a torn piece of fabric pinned to a jagged brick of some building. Based on how the piece of cloth was torn, it can be guessed that something forcefully pulled the garment – and presumably whoever wore it – into an alley crossing this street. Jeremy recognizes the fabric as wool matching Samuel’s heavy, dirty coat.
Undoubtedly Samuel was taken against his will. But there is no blood in the alley, or on the streets. Although it is a small comfort, Samuel was not killed – at least not here.
But then, where?
Perhaps some of the other homeless or someone out late at night saw something, but the likelihood of this is questionable. Beyond that, if someone saw it, would they be willing to share any information on it, considering the fate that befell Samuel?
There is also the business card, tucked away in Thurman’s coat for safekeeping. ‘Emerson Imports’. ‘Silas N’Kwane’. Samuel knew these names, and it is this information that surely led to his disappearance.
With the address of Emerson Imports in hand, it would be easy to catch a taxi to the business. But how wise would such a thing? Surely in broad daylight it would be safe...
[Let me know your next course of action.]
