Post by TheUdjat on Jun 26, 2008 9:17:13 GMT -5
[Yakumo – Wow. Telegrams are expensive. Yeah, it does appear to be $1.25 per word international. Ouch. Ampersand counts. ‘STOP’ does not. I count 16 words, totaling $20.]
Everyone-
After some quick discussion, Col. Gray takes the lead, heading into the spice shop like any store-going patron, Tommy’s newspaper tucked under his arm while he browses. Along the way, he picks up a few spices he needs anyway, and is pleased to note that the spices seem to be high quality, but not exorbitantly priced.
At some point, Tommy also enters to browse for spices, perhaps to keep apprised of things. [Entering alone or with others? If anyone else wants to be in the shop, that’s fine, too.] The interior of the shop is warmly colored in browns and golds, spices neatly stacked and arrayed all along the walls of the room. Immediately to the left, a stairway leads up to what must be Tewfik’s flat, though a cord is drawn across it to discourage patrons from heading upstairs. At the far end of the room, directly opposite the front doors, another door reads ‘Storage’.
In the center of the room stretches a long counter where the register sits, and an Egyptian man hovers behind it, watching and responding to customers attentively, but not over-eagerly. He speaks directly and clearly, and though he carries a heavy accent, his English is impeccable. With a charismatic demeanor, it is instantly obvious why this man is a major figure in his community, and why he is a successful shopkeeper. He seems at ease chatting with patrons, and answering questions succinctly and easily.
In terms of appearance, he looks like a modestly fit man in his middling years, with a thick, dark mustache and a receding hairline. He dresses nicely, but appropriately for his profession and apparent standing. His eyes are alert and aware of his surroundings, a little intense when he focuses on those he is speaking to, but not unkind. He might be a stern man, you imagine, where he upset—but working the shop, he seems perfectly genial.
When Gray steps up to the register, Tewfik nods to him, eyes flickering briefly over his form—indicative, perhaps, that he has never met the man before. “Good day,” he replies with a slight incline of his head, and begins to bag Gray’s purchases, marking them down in a little logbook by the register. His eyes flicker briefly to the newspaper, and eyebrow raised ever-so-slightly in interest. When Gray mentions the murders, Tewfik nods, focusing on the Lt. Colonel’s face again. “I have,” he admits, shaking his head a little. “Terrible business. Ghastly.” His jaw tightens a little, but he seems inclined to say little else about the matter, unless he is somehow coaxed to do so.
He begins to write up a receipt for Gray.
List of clues
Everyone-
After some quick discussion, Col. Gray takes the lead, heading into the spice shop like any store-going patron, Tommy’s newspaper tucked under his arm while he browses. Along the way, he picks up a few spices he needs anyway, and is pleased to note that the spices seem to be high quality, but not exorbitantly priced.
At some point, Tommy also enters to browse for spices, perhaps to keep apprised of things. [Entering alone or with others? If anyone else wants to be in the shop, that’s fine, too.] The interior of the shop is warmly colored in browns and golds, spices neatly stacked and arrayed all along the walls of the room. Immediately to the left, a stairway leads up to what must be Tewfik’s flat, though a cord is drawn across it to discourage patrons from heading upstairs. At the far end of the room, directly opposite the front doors, another door reads ‘Storage’.
In the center of the room stretches a long counter where the register sits, and an Egyptian man hovers behind it, watching and responding to customers attentively, but not over-eagerly. He speaks directly and clearly, and though he carries a heavy accent, his English is impeccable. With a charismatic demeanor, it is instantly obvious why this man is a major figure in his community, and why he is a successful shopkeeper. He seems at ease chatting with patrons, and answering questions succinctly and easily.
In terms of appearance, he looks like a modestly fit man in his middling years, with a thick, dark mustache and a receding hairline. He dresses nicely, but appropriately for his profession and apparent standing. His eyes are alert and aware of his surroundings, a little intense when he focuses on those he is speaking to, but not unkind. He might be a stern man, you imagine, where he upset—but working the shop, he seems perfectly genial.
When Gray steps up to the register, Tewfik nods to him, eyes flickering briefly over his form—indicative, perhaps, that he has never met the man before. “Good day,” he replies with a slight incline of his head, and begins to bag Gray’s purchases, marking them down in a little logbook by the register. His eyes flicker briefly to the newspaper, and eyebrow raised ever-so-slightly in interest. When Gray mentions the murders, Tewfik nods, focusing on the Lt. Colonel’s face again. “I have,” he admits, shaking his head a little. “Terrible business. Ghastly.” His jaw tightens a little, but he seems inclined to say little else about the matter, unless he is somehow coaxed to do so.
He begins to write up a receipt for Gray.
List of clues
