Sunday, Bloody Sunday - 01

[TheUdjat]

[I’ve seen about three advocates for contacting the police with an anonymous tip, so I’m going to go ahead with that plan for tonight. And since nothing else was mentioned plan-wise, I’ll continue on to the next day, and Jackson’s funeral/Jeremy’s meeting.]

---

Everyone-

Deciding that the authorities are probably better suited to handling Ju-Ju House than you are, you agree that dropping an anonymous tip for Lt. Poole would be the best course of action. You fail to reach the lieutenant at this hour, but the information is received by the NYPD – something will be done.

When that is taken care of, you retire for the night, going your separate ways to try and sleep through the bizarre experiences of the evening, be it strange books or stranger rituals. Sleep for several of you is fitful, if indeed it comes at all, filled with more nightmares about what was witnessed beneath Ju-Ju House... and just what those screams and wailing might be from. You try to remind yourselves that the police will handle it, that everything will be fine.

It is cold comfort.

---

Sunday, January 18th, 1925

The morning is uncomfortably quiet. It seems like any other morning, but perhaps it is the terrible knowledge of what may lurk outside that makes it seem more potent. Images and sounds fill some of your heads, or else it is the strange, cryptic, disturbing words from Erica’s books, proving surprisingly difficult to forget. The matter of Jackson Elias’s death, and his research, grows ever more distressing.


Those going to the funeral-

Jackson’s funeral turns out to be a quiet affair held in the late morning, on the peaceful grounds of one of New York’s cemeteries. It is a sorely disappointing sight for those who were friends of Jackson, for aside from yourselves, there is only Jonah Kensington and the priest in attendance. For all his globe-trotting, his correspondence, and his books, it would seem there were not many people truly close to the late author.

“We sent out notices,” Kensington explains. “But nobody could make it. I suppose it is hardly surprising – Jackson had so many friends abroad, he often failed to make close ones at home.”

The ceremony is short. Towards the end, a cold drizzle begins to fall from the sky, the sort of dreary rain that will no doubt continue for the rest of the day, making the mid-January day ever-colder and more miserable than it has any right being. [Spot checks. Success for Thurman, Rebecca, Jackhammer, and Tommy if they’re in attendance. Basically everyone except Sam.] Perched just outside the cemetery’s iron fence is a discreet black Ford. A handful of dark-skinned men seem to be watching your group from within the vehicle, though they make some limited attempts to appear discreet about it.


Jeremy (and anyone else going with him to the poorhouse)-

The poorhouse seems to have changed not at all in the past week, an infinite comfort to Jeremy, whose life has experienced so many rocky changes recently. He waits patiently, despite rain and cold, for the arrival of Susan.

Sure enough, she shows up. She is glad to see Jeremy, and seems concerned for his unusual state – for it is clear that Jeremy is troubled with something, no matter how he may struggle to hide the events of the past days. [Not sure what Jeremy plans to say to Susan – feel free to hold the discussion.]

[Spot check, success.] As the visit with Susan is drawing towards its usual close, Jeremy catches something out of the corner of his eyes. At another part of the poorhouse, steadily watching him, is a grizzled, pale wino whom he doesn’t recognize – or at least, he doesn’t recognize him from the streets. But he can see his face clearly in his memory, surrounded by the firelight of that underground chamber, jubilantly chanting for the death of his friend Samuel.

And by the look in the man’s eyes, he clearly recognizes Jeremy...

[MaestroXC]

[Just to clarify, are Tommy, Jackhammer, and possibly Joe watching us from a distance like we discussed? Just trying to get a handle on who is where. Obviously it would be preferable if the three of us who weren't seen in Ju-Ju House aren't seen with those who were.]

[TheUdjat]

maestroxc said:

[Just to clarify, are Tommy, Jackhammer, and possibly Joe watching us from a distance like we discussed? Just trying to get a handle on who is where. Obviously it would be preferable if the three of us who weren't seen in Ju-Ju House aren't seen with those who were.]

[You all can be wherever you want to be. Unless BluSpecs gets to regular posting again, you can assume Joe is indefinitely absent.

Those watching from a distance will just as easily spot the onlookers.]

[Aegea]

As Rebecca stands near Jackson's grave, she feels a surge of emotion well up inside of her, mixed, chaotic feelings that snake around each other and leave her with a drained feeling. A headache begins to throb in her temples. She finds herself getting a bit misty-eyed during the funeral ceremony...she had never become terribly close to Jackson, but she had deeply respected him and found him to be an intelligent, interesting colleague. He was one of the first people she'd had conversations with about her unusual interests who had seemed just as interested as she was.

Still, she is content that she was able to be here, and that her group had added more people to an otherwise scarce attendance.

Spotting the men that were watching them from the car, she dabs at her eyes and leans towards Thurman, acting as if she's leaning on him for comfort, but then whispers, "Is it just me or do they look suspicious? Think we should go up to them?" She found herself feeling a bit angry that something like this would intrude upon her friend's funeral.

[Yakumo]

(Since we are currently down one investigator, Tommy would split things up. Depending upon whether Jackhammer goes with Jeremy to the poor house, or to the funeral to watch the other's backs, Tommy will go to the other place.)

If Jackhammer goes to the funeral:

Tommy accompanies Jeremy to the poorhouse to meet with Susan and keep an eye on the Kid he had taken a liking to. Tommy will try to look as presentable as possible and introduce himself to Susan as a new friend of Jeremy's. "He's a really good kid, smart and perceptive in a way other's, like myself, aren't. I run a small private investigation business and I was thinking of offering Jeremy a job, or at least have him help me on a few cases. It puts money in your wallet and food in your stomach, and it isn't too dangerous." All in all Tommy is as amicable as he can be and attempts to make a good impression.

If Jackhammer goes to the poorhouse:

Tommy will keep his distance from the funeral take watch the group, but not only that funerals depress him in a way he wouldn't want to show the others. Noticing the men in the car, Tommy will take down the license plate number if he can, "Can always report my car stolen if it helps.." he thinks to himself smiling. Still he is bothered that the group as a whole is being tailed and not just himself, the boxer and the kid.

Tommy will take the time during the funeral, while watching the scene, to formulate a good case for them going to search out more clues abroad, and let things die down in the states.

[MaestroXC]

Standing in the morning chill and grey light of the January Sunday, Sam digs his hands into the pockets of his overcoat. His eyes flick over the still fields, the stone markers fading into a homogenous haze as what memories of he has of Jackson Elias run through his head. Sparing a glance around, at short, dumpy Jonah Kensington, at the stolid Dr. Osgood and the elegant Rebecca Devereaux, Sam's eyes return to the simple coffin, before again sliding out of focus, a nearby headstone and the pallid grass filling up his sight, then blurring as if placed behind a thin pane of oil smeared glass, or a curtain of water, cutting off the world of hard lines and hard truths. The ground under his feet seemed to fix him then, hold him in place not restrained, but as one, one single small prominence on the undulating and irregular earth.

The motions of the priest's final benediction almost startle him again, as his eyes twitch up and lock onto the old man's face. He nods along with the words, his recollections of Jackson Elias, vital and living, interspersed with that last charnal scene in his hotel room. Sam's lips press together, turning white and almost disappearing.

As the priest takes his leave, Sam turns to the other three.

"Let's head somewhere public and get out of the rain; perhaps some lunch as well. I don't see anything out of the ordinary, but there's no use taking chances, especially..." Sam glances at Jonah, standing beside them, "well, especially after last night."

[I would have preferred Jackhammer accompany Jeremy to the poorhouse if anyone, simply because Tommy would stand out less and work better in the role of surveillance. I thought that we'd be letting Jeremy to his own devices, although I didn't think about it too much, and after last night it's certainly not a bad idea to keep someone with him.

Yakumo, Sam had anticipated that Jackson's funeral might be watched, not so much that they themselves would be followed. This was why I suggested the surveillance plan, and wanted to keep the three who were seen at Ju-Ju away from the rest of us, to avoid explicitly making that connection in public to anyone who might be watching. The last thing Sam wants is people following him, watching his office and disrupting his business.]

[VemuKhaham]

[Sorry for the late post all. Have been very busy for a few days.]

Jeremy had not stopped reading from his book until the meeting was concluded and everyone went to sleep again. He himself slept very little. Thoughts about Samuel's horrible fate and those people that he had seen were to him even more horrible than the scene of Elias' murder. In his vivid fantasies he replayed the scene over and over again, but with different ends. Most of them entailed Jeremy shooting the priest, but correctly, like he had been taught to do, in the head, killing him instantly. Then he went on to shoot all the other people there, and then they ran, Samuel following.

Jeremy blamed himself for what happened to Samuel that night. He fell asleep dreaming of Samuel's murdered and mutilated body, inside the deep pit with the screams. Not even the prospect of tomorrow, it being Sunday, the one day that he could look out for every week, gave him some comfort.

Still, the next morning Jeremy woke up and instantly began to prepare for his visit to the poorhouse. He had gone through all the steps in the right sequence when he went to the poorhouse. It seemed like he was hardly taking heed for anyone going with him, whether it be Jackhammer or Tommy or someone else. He walked through the streets with some speed, and a clear purpose in his path. Still, Jeremy seemed to be very nervous when arriving at several intervals, always keeping an eye out at any side-alleys and streets, because he knew that Samuel was dragged into one of those places before everything happened of last night.

When Jeremy finally arrived at the poorhouse, which was in a less well-to-do part of town, he remained at a distance from the place of filth and other terrible things, to wait for Susan on the exact same spot that he always waits, despite rain and cold. But he looked around nervously and wary for any strange men.

It was only when Susan showed up that he, for a brief moment, forgot about all his worries. She carried with her a loaf of bread and even some cakes and put them into Jeremy's bag when they met. As always, she was worried for Jeremy, but something in the kid's expression made her worry even more. "Is everything alright, Jeremy? You look a little nervous."
"Yeah," said Jeremy, but whether it meant if Jeremy was alright or whether he was nervous, only Susan could understand.
"What is it Jeremy? You can tell me."
Jeremy stared to the ground, to Susan's feet, but did not know what to say. The situation seemed very much like when they first met, when Jeremy too was in danger and Susan had been the only person able to help him. But still, it was very different now. Especially when, when he looked up, he saw, over Susan's shoulder, a man, watching them, clearly one of them...

Jeremy almost blacked out. "T-they're here!" he uttered softly, while his voice almost failed him. His eyes were wide in fear.
"Who are here, Jeremy? Is it them? Are they back again?"
Jeremy shook his head, but that was all the answer he gave her. Panic seemed to take a hold over Jeremy, as he grasped his head with both his hands and closed his eyes, as if denying that his eyes were showing him something real. "Go, Susan, must go, go!"

[Japic]

{Back from the trip, here comes the posting}

Standing quietly by Thurman wasn't feeling great about being here. How many people go to funerals for perfect strangers? None that he knew of, so that was odd. Since he'd spent much time with the scholarly pair, he felt obligated to stand with them today as they greived for their friend. When Rebecca leans against him for comfort he is momentarly surprised, though pleasantly. That surprise melts as she confirms what his own roving eyes had already seen. Just another charade; but now there was a car of dark skinned fellows a little too interested in their presence. He hopes that there will not be trouble, but knowing what happened to Jackson and what his comrades had seen last night, he feels less than confident in their safety.

Whispering back to Ms. Deveroux, Thurman keeps his face neutral, though his tone is full of caution. "Based on our recent dealings, that might not be such a good idea. No; if they wanted to meet us, they would have strolled up here and done so."

When Sam speaks on seemingly unawares of the car, Thurman speaks quietly to him, as if consoling him. "Don't look just now, but there's a car full of Africans just over there {in appropriate direction}. I think they're watching us; we'd best be careful."

He offers his arm to Ms Deveroux before shuffling off toward their transportation. Hopefully the rain would help keep them somewhat anonymous, though Thurman was becoming a skeptic and didn't believe it was so.