# [COC] Beyond the Mountains of Madness



## Yellow Sign (Apr 6, 2003)

_July 19th, 1933_ 
_Amherst Hotel, New York City, New York_ 












 Starkweather paced the floor, his tall lean frame radiating barely suppressed energy. "Have you seen the papers Moore? Have you seen them, by God!" One large hand swept out in a extravagant gesture towards the table, covered in newspapers. Starkweather grinned, eyes feverish with excitement. "By the time I've finished they'll have forgotten there ever was a Miskatonic Expedition. 






Sitting across the room, Moore pushed his glasses further up on his nose, his expression quietly bland. "We have several more to speak to this morning." The words were subdued. "One of them a woman." Moore paused to search through a huge stack of papers on his lap. "Ah, yes. " He drew out a sheet to gaze at it. "A psychologist, of some reputation - Miss 
Rachel Paulos. Here is a letter of introduction from Dr. Burrhus Frederic Skinner which gives her a glowing indorsement."

Starkweather stood utterly still. "A woman?" This trip is no place for a woman!" His eyes narrowed, suddenly thoughful. "Damn the indorsement, Moore! Has she got any money?"


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## KitanaVorr (Apr 7, 2003)

_July 19th, 1933
Amherst Hotel, New York City, New York _

The wisp of smoke curled into the air from the end of a long slender cigarette holder.  Burning an orange glow, the cigarette flickered and a bit of ash began its descent down to litter the plush Persian carpet, coming to rest beside a very expensive high-heeled slipper.  The short-lived smoke blew up against long lean legs, shockingly bare, that seemed to stretch endlessly upwards before coming to the lacy edge of the designer dress.  Although the flapper style of the day relished the shapeless waif figure, the body poured into this little number had enough curves to send a train flying off its tracks – willingly.  Over that lacey outfit, a thick white fox fur coat draped, though how it hung onto those slender shoulders only she knew.  

A pert little hat sat at a rakish angle atop thick brown curls full of golden sheen.  The unique face that looked out at the assembled crowd all at once had an air of shrewdness and mischief.  Slashes of golden brown eyebrows over emerald green eyes that caught the flicker of lights in the room, pouty lips on the edge of a smirk, and lashes thick enough to rate their own forest ranger.

Everything appeared perfect.

A feminine upperclass rake.

Until she opened her mouth and the accented voice that echoed from there placed her squarely on the side of New York City that society mavens certainly didn’t frequent.  It was clear, smooth, and luxuriously husky as if she was ready to dip whoever listened in a naughty vocal bath.  A voice made famous ever since the social scandal of the season seven years ago when Joseph Rockefeller, the darling of wall street, married some jazz singing tart from the wrong side of the City.

Jazz singing _dancing_ tart named Roxie Hart.  

Of course the murder trial two years ago made for some pesky business, and now the stepchildren, yet another nuisance.  But what a boon for her singing career!  It seemed everyone wanted to hear Roxie Hart Rockefeller over that radio – sensationalism…that’s what sold the papers and won the hearts of the denizens of this fine fair city.

Resting a ringed hand on one hip, Roxie tilted her head slightly to one side to address the man standing beside her.  “So which one of those two do you think’s this Starkweather, Tony?” she asked while jerking her cigarette holder in the direction of the men at the table.  “My money’s on the bouncing prick.” Though what she really meant by that was anyone’s guess.


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## Fanog (Apr 7, 2003)

The man beside Roxie was everything she was not. He would have been barely noticable next to the glamorous woman, had it not been for his massive posture. This look was only enhanced by the suit that he wore, a dark-grey double-breasted, well-cut but plain. 

His head above the suit was rather round, perfectly complementing the bulk of his body. His dark hair had been combed back, showing clearly the receding hairline that betrayed his age. His eyes were dark as well, looking friendly but not showing much of what he thought. They slowly moved from side to side a couple of times as Antonie made a study of the room and the people who were present.

He wasn't expecting anything to happen, but it was his job to keep an eye out for signs of trouble. He had done so for years, first for Joseph and then for his wife. The survey he did was more out of habit than anything else. 

His relaxed stance showed that he was used to this. Even thought he stood a little behind Roxie, his size and bearing made it look as if he was actually right beside to her, watching over her a bit. Nothing too obvious though. Something in his eyes and demeanor caused him to not draw attention too much. He just seemed... uninteresting.

To Roxie's question, he responded in a voice that showed him a foreigner. He sounded more Brittish than American, even though his accent wasn't totally British either. "I think it's the one with the moustache. The other one doesn't look like an explorer too much, more of an academic type. That must be Mr. Moore, the geologist."


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## Yellow Sign (Apr 7, 2003)

The noise in the meeting room dies down for a few seconds as Roxie entered the room. After a short pause the noise in the room rises again with many a glance directed at the beauiful woman. It is a varied mix of men and women in the hall; rough outdoorsmen with deep tans, dapier business men in their finest suits, studious scholars, and reporters with notepads and pencils at the ready. The only other women in the room was a conseratively dressed young woman sitting on a sofa. Cigarette smoke fills the room and waiters circle the room serving coffee.

From behind a large table two men sat. From the newspaper pictures you know one is Starkweather and the other Moore, the leaders of this expedition. Moore stands and clearing his throat calls for everyones attention. "Ladies and Gentlemen, if you would please sign in. We will begin the interview process shortly. I want to thank you for your time and interest in this project." Starkweather stands and adds his voice. "We are looking for the best and brightest to go where no man has gone before. If you have the courage and the know how then your our man! But be warned this is not some picnic in the park."  He shoots a glance at the two women in the room. "Antarctica is a dangerous place! But with the right men and equipement we can write ourselves into the history books!"


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## Byrons_Ghost (Apr 8, 2003)

Richard Lawton cursed under his breath as he entered the back of the room. _Damn, I knew I should have gotten a cab. Blasted trains are never on time._ He weaved his way through the tables, hoping for an open seat near the front. He made sure to pass by the press section in the process, trading handshakes and quips with the reporters he knew. He finally took a seat on the other side of them, near the society lady who seemed to be drawing so much attention.

Rich also stands out a bit. He's fit and slightly tanned, and looks like an explorer trying to sneak into a social function. Not too hard, mind you, since he hasn't even bothered with a suit- just khakis, an Oxford shirt and an worn leather aviator's jacket. He's topped it all off with a brown felt fedora, which he tips to the lady before removing it and placing it on the table. He then settles in and tries to figure out what he's missed.


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## zombiedude (Apr 8, 2003)

Bleary-eyed and crumpled.  That described John Rayburn to a tee.  He shuffled into the room with a yawn, and ran his fingers through his hair, mussing his hair even further than before.  He slipped a cigarette between his lips and lit it in one smooth motion.  He gazed across the room, as if unsure as to his destination, and then started towards Starkweather whom he recognized from the newspapers.  He took a long drag off his cigarette and reached into the pocket of his overcoat.  His fingers slid around the handle of the blade concealed within his pocket.  

He cut his thumb on the blade, and calmed as soon as he felt the nick.  He noticed a nice looking dame hanging around the team leaders, and wondered what she was doing there.  She looked vaugely familiar, but he dismissed the possibility that he knew her.  Then he spied a face he was positive he knew.

"Richard Lawton?  I dare say I am impressed to see you here!"  He pauses for a moment and flicks some ash onto the floor before transferring his cigarette to his other hand.  "I'm John Rayburn, and have been an admirer of yours for quite some time.  I do believe that this expedition may turn out to be exciting after all."


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## KitanaVorr (Apr 8, 2003)

_July 19th, 1933
Amherst Hotel, New York City, New York _

Exquisitely painted lips curved into a wicked little smile that included the hat-tipping man and his friend in its width.  “Tony, honey, I think Starkweather’s gunning up for a little bit of reckonin’ here.  Don’t seem to want no dames on his little ski trip…what do you say we rock his little world?”  One expensively attired foot in front of the other, Roxie moved with the assurance of a woman who knows she’s attractive and knows how to use it every advantage. 

Right.  Left.  The undulation of hips beneath the slinky fabric created its own little beat that led into an illegal harmony all the way to the table and the two men.

“Hello, darlings.”  A puff of smoke curled into the air between them.  “Why don’t you put my name right there on the list.”  One manicured finger, done in crimson, traced a pattern on the paper in front of Moore.  “Because if you two plan on making any kind of history - everyone knows men are useless without women to kick some sense into them.”

At their look, she gave them a wicked wink.  “That would be under Rockefeller, Roxie Rockefeller, Mr. Moore.  R-o-x-i-e.”


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## Fanog (Apr 8, 2003)

A small smile appeared on Antonie's face at hearing the woman in front of him plot her _entrée_. Despite this smile on his mouth, his eye brows made a bit of a curl and Antonie's dark eyes looked tense. 

People might think that this worry was professional, and that he thought about protecting the dame in this large mass of people.
That wasn't it, though... Nope, this was personal, something was at stake here.
Roxie's brash behaviour would usually amuse Antonie. He could watch the confusion that she created in the people around her, the outrage at her extravaganza and inappropriate behaviour, but it would not touch him. He could just watch and leave when Roxie did. This time, that was different. This time, things involved him and he had to trust Roxie to take care of it. And *that* made him tense...

Silently, Antonie followed Roxie across the room, to the table with the two men. He stood behind her when she spoke, watching around him to see how the others present would react. He carefully listened to Roxie's words, anxious to hear how she would approach the two expedition leaders:

_Wah. Ouch..._


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## Yellow Sign (Apr 8, 2003)

Starkweather's face turns a bright shade of red. Trembling with pent up anger he begins to rise. "No way in hell are...!" he blurts as Moore's hand comes down on Starkweather's shoulder and he turns to Roxie. "Why Mrs. Rockefeller. It's so nice to meet you finally. I knew your husband well. I wish to give you my condolences on his untimely passing." Moore pauses and he gives Starkweather a pleading glance. "The funding that your husband has provided has been a godsend to our endeavor."

After hearing Moore's speach, Starkweather sits back down and he seems to be attempting to control himself. Though his hands are balled up into fists and a ugly scowl seems to be trying to erupt on his face.


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## KitanaVorr (Apr 8, 2003)

Roxie flashed Starkweather the most a charming smile.  "Didn't your momma ever tell you that if you kept that up, your face is gonna stick that way?"  

Perching on the edge of the table, the woman let her fur coat fall behind her to land on the table and scatter a couple of papers onto Starkweather's lap before diverting her attention to Moore. "Thank you for such kind words, Mr Moore.  At least one of you is a gentlman."  

She pursed her lips thoughtfully as she crossed her long lean dancer's legs and tapped one foot in the air.  "Now, really though.  I think this trip will be lots of fun as long as we get the right combination of people together.  I know you both will enjoy having a bit of womans' touch...don't you think so?"  She cast a sidelong glance at Starkweather, a puff of ringed smoke drifting in his direction.

_Oh yes, honey.  I'm your worst nightmare._

"Oh!  I like her...let's take her with us, too," Roxie suddenly exclaimed as she pointed one crimson fingernail at Rachel Paulos' application.  "It'll be like the grandest most exotic slumber party ever!"


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## anonystu (Apr 8, 2003)

"'And I beheld, unclouded by doubt, a magnificent vision of all that invisibility might mean to a man,--the mystery, the power, the freedom.'" Rachel murmurs to herself. Right now, she would just be happier if everyone stopped looking at her. She saw the look in Starkweather's eyes: if it was barely subdued rage for Ms. Rockefeller, it was dismissal that his eyes held for her. 

Everybody knew why Ms. Rockefeller was here, and there was more than enough speculation for a book on how she had gotten to here, but Rachel could not think of a ready explanation: she wanted to be in this room, to go to Antarctica, more than anything else, but, what could she offer? An ex-nurse and an assistant to a man, who no matter how brilliant she thought his ideas, was still far outside the mainstream in even psychology. 

Rachel folded her grey-gloved hands together in the lap of her knee-length, dark grey skirt. Looking down at her hands, away from all the people who, in her mind, are staring at her, she tenses for a second, feeling an urge to run, to go back to the safety of the professor's lab in Cambridge.

One deep breath later, she stands up, straightening out the pillbox hat on her head, brushing off the grey sport jacket over her blue blouse, and takes soft steps over to the table where the organizers are currently talking with Ms. Rockefeller. She stands beside Ms. Rockefeller, nodding to all of them in turn.

"Mr. Starkweather, Mr. Moore, Ms. Rockefeller. My name is Rachel Paulos and I wished to make sure that all the parts of my application for this expedition had arrived intact."


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## Byrons_Ghost (Apr 9, 2003)

Richard absently extends his hand out to Rayburn, a wry smile playing across his lips. He is clearly more interested in Roxie and the scene she is causing up front.

"That's right, Richard Lawton, how do you do?" he says, glancing briefly at the other man.

As Roxie's stunt gets Rachel sucked into the scene as well, he lets out a laugh and slaps his knee. "Incredible! I already have a first chapter, and we haven't even left yet! This is going to be some trip!"

Turning to gague Rayburn's response, he finally takes a good look at him. "Say, I think you look a bit familiar, what was your name again?"


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## zombiedude (Apr 9, 2003)

Replying to LAwton he says in a slightly shakey voice, "Ah, its Rayburn, John Rayburn." 

He then turns to the party leaders and says, "Surely you gentlemen are not seriously considering bringing these da. . .ah, ladies along on the expedition?"

He turns to Rachel, "No offense intended m'am, but the artic is no place for a woman."  He runs his fingers through his hair once more, "I've lost good men on far less dangerous outings."  He gets a far away look in his eyes for a moment and says, "Far less dangerous outings . . . . ."  Then he snaps back to reality and takes a drag off of his cigarette.  Turning to Roxie he says, "I'm sure you have far more exciting places to go, miss.  Frozen wastelands aren't accomodating to flappers, you know."


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## Byrons_Ghost (Apr 9, 2003)

Richard steps up and frowns slightly. "Rayburn... I seem to remember you spending some time in South America, right? That's close to Antarctica, but I don't think you're an expert on what can and can't survive down there."

Richard turns to address the front table. "I've had some cold-weather experience travelling in the Alps- not the arctic, sure, but enough so that I can find my way around. I'm sure that our benefactors have even more experienced guides at their disposal. So I think it's safe to say that neither of these ladies would have any more trouble on the ice than your average underdeveloped-"

He starts to say something, then glances at Moore and thinks better of it. Instead, he finishes with the words "-student without any arctic expertise. And I'm sure we'll have plenty of them along."

Pausing for a moment, he glances over at the press section and shoots a conspiratorial look at Starkweather & Moore. "Besides, can you imagine the publicity we can generate here? The first women to explore the arctic, and we'll have both of them on our expedition!"


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## VorpalBunny (Apr 9, 2003)

Thatcher Colt entered the room and stopped dead in his tracks.  

_What's all this, then?  I thought Starkweather & Moore were professionals - It looks like a bloomin' circus in here..._

He sighs audibly to himself and finds a seat.  Looking up to the front of the room he sees an attractive woman in a dress that would've made the Kaiser himself stop for a nice long look, sitting on the desk talking to two gents who he assumed to be Starkweather & Moore, and another woman.

_Americans.  They can't be serious.  Is this an Anarctic Expedition or a travelling pub? Sure, she's a cute enough bird, but why would they be considering her? Maybe they're bringing her for... morale..._

Thatcher leans back in his chair and crosses his muscular arms over his chest and lets out another deep sigh.

_Easy, Thatcher.  That kind o' thinkin' will be sure to get ya dropped from the roster and you need the money.  Hmmm.  I wonder who's the other woman? Eh, I guess there's only one way to find out what's going on..._

Thatcher gets up and slowly heads toward the desk at the front of the room.


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## Yellow Sign (Apr 9, 2003)

Starkweather begins to sputter and shake. "Mrs. Rockefeller, if you think that I am going to take you on this trip so you can have some short of joy ride you are sadly mistaken. This is going to be a hard and dangerous trip. No niceties, where we're going, d'you fancy changing your linens every day in a room with thirty unwashed men? I am not going to play nursemaid to some spoiled rich tart!" At that moment a flash blub goes off as a member of the press takes a picture of the confrontation at the head table.


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## KitanaVorr (Apr 9, 2003)

Taking a deliciously long drag on her cigarette, Roxie paused for a long moment as if to contemplate Starkweather from his head down to his toes and then back again  -- most of her perusal far from innocent.  Exhaling, the smoke curled around him while she smiled and winked at the photographer - always aware of cameras wherever she was.  She even made sure her legs were  prettily arranged, even a little thigh showing where applicable.

"Well, I guess you're right there, Mr. Starkweather," the young woman agreed with a rather soulful sigh of resignation, but the wicked gleam in those emerald eyes belied her true emotion.  "The trip's just far to dangerous and certainly not some joy ride."  Turning her back to Starkweather to face Tony, she tapped her cigarette, the ash falling onto some papers on the desk.

"My legal expenses have been just _so_ much lately, huh, Tony?  And running an expedition's just really a pretty penny.  Do you think the money from this trip'll cover my legal costs for the next six months?  That's probably the wisest thing for me to do...like Mr. Rayburn indicates...I obviously have better things to spend _my_ money on."


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## zombiedude (Apr 9, 2003)

>>>That's probably the wisest thing for me to do...like Mr. Rayburn indicates...I obviously have better things to spend my money on."<<<<<

"Well, that's the first sensible thing I've heard since I arrived here."

_Lights up another cigarette_ 

>>>"Rayburn... I seem to remember you spending some time in South America, right? That's close to Antarctica, but I don't think you're an expert on what can and can't survive down there."<<<<

"Yes, I have spent time in South America.  I've been all over the globe, and have experience enough to know that this isn't a trip for a rank amatuer.  Gods, man, you should know the same.  To be certain, she is a lovely creature, but I doubt she has ever climbed more than a flight of stairs."


_Offers Thatcher a cigarette._ 

"Welcome to our little party, I'm Rayburn."

"Anybody able to bring us a pot of coffee?   I think this is going to be a long meeting."


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## Yellow Sign (Apr 11, 2003)

Starkweather glowers at Roxie for a several seconds. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. Moore stands and softly says something to Starkweather. Those close can hear him say something about a Rockefeller Trust and $120,000 dollars. A long sigh escapes Starkweather. "Well Mrs. Rockefeller I guess your coming along then." His earlier anger completely gone from his face. A cold steelly gaze rests on the shapely woman sitting on the table. "I hope you enjoy your trip with us. But I must aplogize now for any hardships and inconviences you might encounter with us. Like I said before this will be no picnic." He sits back down a small grin on his face. "Miss Paulos, lets look over your resume then shall we."


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## VorpalBunny (Apr 11, 2003)

Thatcher arrives at the desk to see an obviously tense Starkweather grab a resume from on top of a pile of others and with a frustrated sigh begin interrogating one of the women present.

_Offers Thatcher a cigarette. 

"Welcome to our little party, I'm Rayburn."_

"No, thank you, " Thatcher says politely declining the offered cigarette while extending his hand to Rayburn.  "Name's Thatcher Colt.  Did a lil' flying for Her Majesty in the War."


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## zombiedude (Apr 11, 2003)

>>>>"No, thank you, " Thatcher says politely declining the offered cigarette while extending his hand to Rayburn. "Name's Thatcher Colt. Did a lil' flying for Her Majesty in the War."<<<<<

_Shakes Thatcher's hand_ 


"A pilot, eh?  Never have flown a plane before, but I always wanted to try that wing walking stuff.  There was a time I could think of nothing else."  Seems to ponder a moment and says almost to himself, "Yes, there was a time. . ."


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## KitanaVorr (Apr 11, 2003)

"Ooo, I knew you'd see it my way sooner or later," Roxie cooed with a lascivious smile as she patted Starkweather's cheek with one gloved finger before tapping Rachel's application.  "And before you open your trap, I don't want to hear any more about no women on this trip.  She's coming, as well as Tony here.  That's three in all!"

Laughing happily, she sighed, giving Rachel a wink.  "I think you're divinely talented, Ms. Paulos.  Your accomplishments are just yummi!  I'm so impressed.  And it _will_ be a grand adventure!  Us girls making history and the cranky men who follow behind us."


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## Byrons_Ghost (Apr 11, 2003)

Richard smiles widely. "Well, that's settled then. You fellas let me know if you need a statement whipped up."

Turning to Thatcher, he extends his hand. "A pilot you say? Good to have another airman aboard. I did some flying myself during the War, but I didn't see much action because I came in late. Name's Rich Lawton."


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## Yellow Sign (Apr 11, 2003)

Mr. Moore quickly speaks up. "I have already looked over Miss Paulos' records and I must say that I am very impressed too. With her psychological and medical backgrounds, she could be of great assistance to our trip. She could work with Dr. Greene on providing our medical services. " Starkweather glares at Moore and then to Miss Paulos and then shrugs. "If I have to have a woman on this trip might as well take two. Hopefully they can keep each other occupied and out of the way. Ok Miss Paulos your coming along too. And Mrs. Rockefeller you can bring your thug along too hopefully he can help take up the slake for you. Now ladies we have alot of work to do. Mr. Moore will have you sign some releases and give you any additional information that you might need."


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## Fanog (Apr 11, 2003)

Antonie quietly stands beside Roxie as the woman works her 'charms' on the men behind the table. He looks over thw crowd, until Roxie adresses him. He nods to her comment, but then rethinks this.

_She's playing it rough. I guess she's made her point, unless... Unless she's waiting for me to drive the point home. Why else would she involve me in the conversation, does she expect me to say something? Would I screw thing up now by adding to her words?_

Starkweather's words release Antonie from his torment as he settled things. The tension visibly drops from Antonie's face, especially when he hears that Roxie does indeed intend to take him with her.

_Who's the other woman? Does Ms. Roxie even know her? Ah, probably not, ten to one it's just to tease Starkweather now that she has him by the balls. Haha..._

Somewhere off, Antonie hears the words "flying" and "War" used in the same sentence. His attention is drawn to the conversation that the men behind him are having. Without actually looking, he follows their conversation. The talk of pilots and the War brings back memories for Antonie, memories he'd rather not have; The trouble with his family, his first flight in a fighter plane, and the horrible crash that doomed him...

Antonie cannot resist the urge to turn his head and look at the three men. From the very first look, he dislikes the man with the moustache. He sees before him everything that he could have been, everything that he failed to become.

Antonie doesn't have long to ponder, as Starkweather once more adresses Roxie. He glares a bit at the man for calling him a thug, but let's it go. He's been called worse, and the fact that he'll join the expedition makes up for it.
Antonie looks back to the man with the moustache, a look of determination grows on his face.

_This is my chance, finally. Just wait, and they'll see..._


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## KitanaVorr (Apr 14, 2003)

Roxie exhaled, letting the smoke drift around the room.  Her foot made little impatient circles in the air while she listened to the happenings around her.

"So what brings all of you on this trip?" she asked the others, flicking a stray lock of hair away from those forest green eyes.  Her ruby lips slid over the shaft of the cigarrette holder, taking a long drag before releasing more smoke into the air.

"Fortune and glory?"


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## Yellow Sign (Apr 14, 2003)

"Mr. Richard Lawton?" calls Starkweather as Mr. Moore has Roxie and Rachel sign some papers. 

"Mrs. Rockefeller, Miss Paulos. This hotel is going to be the headquarters for the Expedition." says Moore. "If you would both return here on Sept. 1st. We will then organized and prepare for our trip. We plan on leaving on Sept. 15th. Any questions?"


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## KitanaVorr (Apr 16, 2003)

Roxie gave Starkweather a long and wicked grin followed by one bat of her thick eyelashes.  "Just one question, honey.  How much luggage you think you can fit in our little ship?  I'm thinking of bringing my matching Fendi from Italy and it be a rotten shame not to bring the whole luggage collection.  I'm sure I can come up with plenty of things to fill it with."

Her brows furrowed slightly and no one could tell if she was serious or not when she spoke again.  "What designer _do_ you wear on an Antarctic expedition anyway?"

EDIT: oops  I thought Starkweather had spoken to her, she's talking to Moore, ok...editing
EDIT2: ok edited back to Starkweather since someone already posted - oops


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## Byrons_Ghost (Apr 16, 2003)

Rich steps forward with a wide grin on his face. Since Starkweather is still... occupied, he extends his hand to Moore. "I'm Rich Lawton, how do you do?"


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## Fanog (Apr 16, 2003)

Antonie flashes a quick look at Mr. Moore and suddenly seems to be quite nervous. He turns his face away, stares out over the crowd, not looking at anyone in particular. A single bead of sweat forms on his forehead, which Antonie removes with an almost subconscious swipe from his kerchief.

_Is he just forgetting me? Starkweather said I would go as well. He said that, didn't he... I'm pretty damn sure he said that... Ms. Roxie, this Miss Paulos, and me. We were all included. Has Moore just decided something else, or has he just forgotten? He must have forgotten... Damn man, you have to _do_ something._

Antonie stands quiet for a moment more, trying to make up his mind. Then he looks at Moore again and to the floor after that. He coughs lightly, although he tries not to make it look too obvious.


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## Yellow Sign (Apr 16, 2003)

Moore looks over at the man with Roxie. "Excuse me sir, I didn't catch your name. And do you have any skills that could be of use to us on the expedition? Other that taking care of Ms. Rockefeller that is."

Starkweather growls at Roxie, "You will be given a weight allowance for your personal gear, Mrs. Rockefeller. Now excuse me I have important work to do." He turns to Richard Lawton and extends a hand. "Pleased to meet you Mr. Lawton, I have been looking over your qualifications and I must say I am quit impressed. You just the sort of chap that we need on this trip." He glances over at Roxie for a second with a sneer.


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## Fanog (Apr 16, 2003)

"Anthony Louwman. Nice to meet you." Antonie says, making a curt nod of his head.

_Skills... How am I going to present that to him. I'd better make myself seem useful, maybe that would ease Starkweather as well. I'm not sure how _that_ would turn out.. For now, just play it cool and make the best of your experiences. Keep it cool, Ton._

Antonie speaks slowly as he is thinking and speaking at the same time. On his fingers, he ticks off each of the things he mentions, deliberately trying to maximize the effect of his words.

"My skills, you ask? Over the course of my life, I have acquired much experience in many different fields of expertise... I've had quite some years of experience in medicine, and I can find my way around machinery, both in operating and maintenance. And or course, my work as an assistent to Mr. and Mrs. Rockefeller have left me with quite sharp senses.
...I trust that this would be sufficient to make myself useful to this expedition?"

_Well, the sounded pretty good, I think. Let's hope it's enough._

Antonie watches Mr. Moore, eager to see what kind of impression he has made on the man.


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## KitanaVorr (Apr 17, 2003)

Roxie scoffed slightly at being dismissed by Starkweather.  Pulling out a compact, she fixed her still perfectly coifed hair while murmuring under her breath...and certainly loud enough for all to hear...."If there's a weight limit, how _ever_ is he going to get that ego of his onboard?"

Snapping the compact shut, she smiled very charmingly at Lawton just before giving him the once over...all over.  "Well, I can't say I disagree with Mr. Starkweather's appraisal.  You're quite an impressive chap, indeed."


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## zombiedude (Apr 17, 2003)

>>>...."If there's a weight limit, how ever is he going to get that ego of his onboard?"<<<


_Lights up another cigarette, inhales gently, and exhales in a steady stream from his nose_ 

"I'm sure if we can make room for your ego, we can make room for his, _miss._ "

_Turns to Antonie_ 

"Just so you know, she's _your_ responsibilty on this trip."

_Looks to the lady Psychiatrist_ 

"However, I will greet you, ma'am, and try to keep an eye out for you in the frozen wastes.  As much as I dislike the idea of women going on this trip, I think we'll be needing a good shrink."


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## KitanaVorr (Apr 18, 2003)

One dark blonde brow arched slightly.  "Accomodating both egos won't be a problem if we leave you behind."  Tapping her cigarette on the edge of the table, she inhaled another carcinogenic breath.  "Certainly save _my_money that way.   Unless Mr. Starkweather or Mr. Moore want to dip into their own private coffers to cough up enough dough to take you with us cuz damned if I'm gonna take disrespect from two wankers."


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## zombiedude (Apr 19, 2003)

>>>"Certainly save mymoney that way. Unless Mr. Starkweather or Mr. Moore want to dip into their own private coffers to cough up enough dough to take you with us cuz damned if I'm gonna take disrespect from two wankers."<<<

*Snorts*

_Looks at Starkweather and Moore_ 

"I wasn't aware that this _woman_ was running the expedition, gentlemen.  If that is the case, then I mistakenly applied to the wrong group of explorers.  However, if you _are_ in charge then perhaps you should let someone know it."  

_Pours a large cup of piping coffee, downs it one quick gulp, and then pours another._ 

"I had thought this was to be a _professional_ excursion.  However, I will be willing to stay for an amatuer one, for double my fee."


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## Yellow Sign (Apr 19, 2003)

> "I had thought this was to be a professional excursion. However, I will be willing to stay for an amatuer one, for double my fee."




Starkweather looks over at Mr. Rayburn. "Fee??? My dear Sir, this is a chance of a lifetime for anyone who goes on this *Professional* expedition. Many have *Paid* for the privalege to come on this momentious excersion into the unknown. A man could make his mark on the world by just being part of it. And as far as *Who* is in charge that would be *ME* and Mr. Moore make no mistakes about that. While it is true that Mrs. Rockefeller and Miss Paulos are *sigh* coming along they have very good reasons. Mrs. Rockefeller has donated over a hundred thousand dollars for the privalege and Miss Paulos is a skilled scientist. I might not like the idea of two *Women* tagging along on this trip but *by God* I am not going to do anything to risk the delay of this Expedition."


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## Byrons_Ghost (Apr 19, 2003)

Richard smiles broadly at both Starkweather and Roxie. "Well, thanks to both of you. Always nice to be the center of attention."

"Now, Mr. Starkweather, my magazine has given me some papers for you to look over about our propsed series on the expedition..." He absently checks inside his coat. "Damn, I was sure I brought them. Hang on..."

As Richard rummages through his pockets, he seems to tune out the interactions of the others. Finally he notices the tension and sighs lightly.

"Please now, let's all simmer down, okay? We're going to get horrible write-ups if we slaughter each other before the food runs out, much less if we haven't even made it to the Antarctic yet!"


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## Yellow Sign (Apr 19, 2003)

Mr. Moore casts a worried glance over at the tense confrontation between Starkweather, Rayburn, and Mrs. Rockefeller and then he turns to Mr. Louwman. "Well it sounds like you could be a productive member of the group. When you get the chance talk to Dr. Greene and you can both discuss how you can help him with your medical skills. Otherwise you will be responsible for helping Mrs. Rockefeller. Does that sound ok to you?"


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## KitanaVorr (Apr 20, 2003)

Roxie laughed, putting out the remainder of her cigarrette into the nearest convenient portion of the table.  "Mr. Lawson, I don't think my write-ups could possibly get any worse, don't you think?"  She winked at him while motioning for Tony to pass her another cigarette.  "Butt me, Tony.  I need a ciggy."

_Damn prohibition.  I could use a drink right about now._


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## Fanog (Apr 20, 2003)

"Thank you. I'll be sure to talk with him. And I'll be sure to take care of Ms. Roxie, though I think you'll find that she can fend for herself quite well. Excuse me for a moment..."

Relieved by Mr. Moore response, Antonie turns his attention away from Mr. him to take in the tableau of the commotion around Roxie. _Damn, I had hoped she wouldn't be _this_ bad, but I guess the slick one had it coming. He should've known better..._

Antonie grabs in his jacket and pulls out a box of Marlboro's. He skillfully pops it on the palm of his hand to knock out of the carton one cigerette, which he offers for Roxie to take. After she's taken it, he slides the box back into his jacket pocket.
Next, his hand reaches down, fishing a lighter and some Camels from his pocket. He gives the box of Camels a quick shake and brings it to his mouth while his other hand lights Roxie's cigarette. His lips grab the cigarette now sticking out of the carton, and he lights this one too.

He then offers the box of Camels around, mostly as a token of reconciliation.

_Well, let's hope we've got this settled -- for now, at least. Starkweather does really need the Rockefeller money, but I'm not sure he wouldn't find some way to cause trouble if this is what the expedition is going to be like. This Moore chap seems to be sensible enough though, and it seems like he's the one in charge. That's good, let's see if he can keep Starkweather in line, and I'll see if I can keep Ms. Roxie from stepping on too many... ehm... ego's._ Antonie silently smiles to himself at that, amused by Roxie's behaviour, even with what hangs in the balance.


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## Yellow Sign (Apr 22, 2003)

Byrons_Ghost said:
			
		

> *"Now, Mr. Starkweather, my magazine has given me some papers for you to look over about our propsed series on the expedition..." He absently checks inside his coat. "Damn, I was sure I brought them. Hang on..."
> 
> *




 Seeing Mr. Lawton, a broad grin spreads on Starkweather's face. "Oh! Mr. Lawton! I am so very pleased to meet you at last." Starkweather extends a hand. "_The National Geographic_ magazine sent us their proposal and I must say that we couldn't be happier with their choice of a correspondent. Your reputation is top notch and I have followed your work with great admiration."


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## zombiedude (Apr 23, 2003)

>>>>Seeing Mr. Lawton, a broad grin spreads on Starkweather's face. "Oh! Mr. Lawton! I am so very pleased to meet you at last." Starkweather extends a hand. "Life magazine sent us their proposal and I must say that we couldn't be happier with their choice of a correspondent. Your reputation is top notch and I have followed your work with great admiration."<<<<

*_Snorts_*

_Mutters under his breath, "_ Oh, _him_ , he's glad to see.  _Me, _ he gives a lecture on the virtues of working for free."

_Drinks three more cups of coffee in rapid succession and then puffs on his cigarette doing a damn good imitation of a chimney._ 

*_Coughs_*

"To think," he says to no one in particular, "I had an option to go to Scotland last month to investigate the sightings of that new monster, and I passed it up because I thought this trip would be more fruitful and exciting."

_Internally, he shudders at the thought of going near water again._


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## Byrons_Ghost (Apr 23, 2003)

Richard shakes Starkweather's hand. "Well, thanks Mr. Starkweather. Always nice to meet a fan. I'm hoping that this expedition will get me back in the game, so to speak."

He takes out some papers and spreads them on the table. "As you probably already know, the magazine is interested in publishing as many regular updates as I can get them. I'll be taking a lot of photographs as well, though I don't see any way of getting them out of camp until after the expedition, unless you're going to have regular supply drops."

"Updates will depend on what sort of communications we have. I assume the base camp will have at least a radio set, but I'm not an expert on these matters. Do you think we'll have access to anything in the field?"


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## Yellow Sign (Apr 23, 2003)

"Mr. Lawton, we will have a powerful wireless set aboard the USS Gabrielle, our ship. Once we are on the ice we will be able to comunicate with the ship with one of several radio sets that we will take with us. From there the ship can send messages to the powerful radio installation at Kingsport Head, Massachusetts and from there to the world." says Starkweather. He turns to the group that is gathered by the table. "I am pleased to meet you all." casting a slight frown to the two ladies. "Please mingle and get to know some of the others here while Mr. Moore and I continue with our interviews. I will make a short statement to you all when we are done. Please make yourselves comfortable and there are some refreshments on the far table there." He points to a table in which sandwiches and coffee pots can be seen.


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## KitanaVorr (Apr 24, 2003)

_Coffee?!_

Roxie manages to keep the disgust to a minimum.  How could she drink coffee without a shot of something alcholic to give it a little kick?  Her fingers played with the ciggy that Tony gave her, giving him a grateful smile and a little affectionate punch in the arm.

Sliding the cigarette into her long holder, she inhaled generously before smiling at those gathered around the table.  "So you write for the magazine, Mr Lawson?  What was your last assignment?  Somewhere erotic...," she laughs, " I mean, _exotic_, perhaps?"


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## zombiedude (Apr 24, 2003)

>>>"So you write for the magazine, Mr Lawson? What was your last assignment? Somewhere erotic...," she laughs, " I mean, exotic, perhaps?"<<<

_*Rolls his eyes*_ 

"Yes, please, I think we'd all like to hear from a seasoned professional."


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## Fanog (Apr 24, 2003)

Seeing as how no one takes him up on the offer of a cigarette, Antonie lets the box glide back into the pocket of his pants. He smiles at Roxie, and stares at his arm at bit dumbfoundedly, seemingly not really sure how to react to her punch. He decides to forget it and switches the topic.

"Hum, no tea, eh...? Would you care for something to eat? I could use something, while we're here."

Antonie looks around at those gathered in the hall, and his eye falls on the dark-haired man again, spitefully muttering at their table.

_Oh, it seems like the slick one doesn't really have a problem with Ms. Roxie, but instead with _everyone_. Great... He doesn't really seem like a problem, but for now I'll keep an eye on the fellow. I'll might have to have a talk with him if he's causing the lady troubles again._


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## KitanaVorr (Apr 29, 2003)

Roxie ran her fingers lightly against Tony's arm at his words before giving his bicep a slight squeeze.  "Oh Tony honey, you go right ahead and feed that voracious appetite of yours.  I do work you oh so hard."  

Turning her attention back to Lawson, she smiles at the man while awaiting his response to her inquiry.


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## Byrons_Ghost (Apr 29, 2003)

Richard lights a cigarette of his own. "Well, I was in China for the better part of last year. It's a beautiful place, especially the ancient buildings. There was some concern among the Society that the Japanese attack would wreck a lot of national treasures, so they wanted to get pictures of just about everything. And I was writing for the wire services too.

"Since getting back to the states earlier this year I've been going through the Tennessee Valley covering the TVA improvements, and just last month I was in Chicago for the World's Fair."


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## Fanog (Apr 29, 2003)

Another bead of sweat appears on Antonie's forehead. He doesn't take the time to wipe it away as he always does, he doesn't even notice. Too much of his concentration is focused on the foxy woman beside him, the foxy _widow_ beside him. Confused and a bit clumsily, Antonie pushes himself through the crowd, heading for the table with the coffee and sandwiches.

_By god, what is she doing? She's... She's.._

Antonie is at a loss for words, trying to rationalize Roxie's behaviour. The two of them have known each other for quite a while and it was clear from the start that she wasn't too hung-up on formalities, but this is a bit too much for the quiet and reserved Antonie.

_She's probably just toying with me, like she does with all the others. She must have seen my awkward reaction to that punch of hers, decided to have her fun with me. Stupid, don't let her get to you like that! That must be it, though. -- Either that, or she scored some booze before coming here. I wouldn't be surprised, though I think I would've noticed earlier._

Antonie grabs a sandwich and finds a place where he can hear what's being said by those gathered around Starkweather and Roxie.
Observing the scene from a distance gives him some time to calm. He watches the people around Roxie, that's his job after all. He also keeps a close eye on Roxie, hoping that she doesn't let the situation get out of hand, and trying to see if she shows signs of being buzzed.


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## KitanaVorr (Apr 30, 2003)

"Mmm...China sounds so _exotic_!  I've never been," Roxie spoke with a long sigh full of cigarette smoke.  "I've never been outta the U.S. my whole life before I married Joey."

She leaned back the table, resting one hand behind hear and arching her back a bit to command quite a pose in case anyone else wanted to take some pictures.  Her eyes traveled up and down Lawson rather offhandedly as if she was admiring a piece of artwork and deciding on its purchase.

"You sound like you been around, Mr. Lawson.  And now you're off to Antartica.  You musta seen so many things."  

_What I wouldn't give for a shot of whiskey right now...hmm...I think I still got some in my purse_

She poked Rayburn with the toe of her foot.  "What about you, Mr. Attitude.  You ever step foot outta your hole?  Or are you just all talk with nothin' to back it up."


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## DallasPA (Apr 30, 2003)

As Father Steele walked closer and closer to his objective a strange chill entered his bones.  True it was a very cold night, but this sensation was different, it touched his soul and reminded him of the night the horror struck from the deep.  He could still hear their screams!!!

They are coming from the water,  from the lake, GOD HELP US!!!!!!

As Father Steele looked around he found himself standing still and shaking, in the distance he could see the Amherst Hotel.  In an attempt to settle his nerves he patted his revolver, with his left hand, which was concealed under his heavy black cloak. He then gently touched the crucifix hanging about his neck.  In his right hand pocket of his cloak he was clutching the strange note, the note was found attached to a sealed envelope at the altar prior to him conducting mass.  The note read as follow:

Dear Friend:

Your assistance is urgently needed, it is of extreme importance that Mr. Moore receives the sealed envelope that is attached to this letter.  For I am unable to attend and it is imperative that he receives this discourse.  Father Steele you should find Mr. Moore inside  the hotel conducting interviews in the Great Room.  I hate to place this extreme task upon the head of one so true and loyal as you.  But you are the only one in the church equipped to handle the evil that plagues my dreams.  You have risen thru the ranks quicker than any before you, you’re knowledge of the Occult and your extensive experience and successes in the area of Exorcism compels me to send one  such as you on this mission for the church’s sake!!!!  Mr Moore will explain what will be required of you in more detail.

ArchBishop Simeon
Holy Roman Catholic Church

“ I don’t like the sound of this” thought father still.

He placed the note into his pocket, and adjusted the hood of his cloak in a position where he could see, while still concealing his own identity.  As he entered the hotel a wave of silence seem to sweep the hall.  One by one eyes began to fall upon the smallish hooded black figure as he entered the Great Room.  This image appeared so out of place to all, but a feeling of comfort accompanied his presence, as Steele approached the table.  With no fanfare Father Steele replied.  

“ I have been ordered to deliver this sealed envelope to a Mr. Moore and await further instruction as to my task on the behalf of the Holy Roman Catholic Church.”

Father Steele gently laid the sealed envelope on the table relishing the level of concealment his cloak offered.


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## Fanog (Apr 30, 2003)

As he is standing in the hall, leaning against a table, Antonie spots the robed figure walking in. He doesn't need his years of expertise to tell him that something is up... something weird.

_Black robe? Doesn't want this face to be known. That's usually _not_ a good sign. Huh, a crucifix? What's a priest doing here?
I'd better get a little closer to Ms. Roxie, never know what might happen._

Antonie looks back at the table with the Mr's Moore and Starkweather. He sees Roxie, taking a long look at the reporter. 

_Well, at least _that's_ how I know her. Why me though, today?_ Instinctively, Antonie feels at his arm where Roxie had squeezed him.

As the robed man walks closer to the table in the center of attention, Antonie stuffs the last of his sandwich in his mouth. He also moves in closer, trying to do so without being obvious about it. He holds at about ten feet from Roxie, keeping a close look on the short figure in the black robe.

_Stay calm, just make sure you know what's going on and stay close enough to act if things go wrong. Let's see what this man is all about..._


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## Yellow Sign (Apr 30, 2003)

Mr. Moore looks at the black cloaked figure infront of him and then takes the letter and opens it. After a few moments of reading, a broad grin spreads over his face. "Oh Father Steele, its so good to meet you at last. When ArchBishop Simeon said he had a good man that he suggested go with us, I had no idea it would be you. I have read many of your articles including that masterful work on andean volcanic dynamics in _The Geologic Society_ magazine." Moore extends a hand and shakes Father Steele's with great feeling. Turning to Starkweather, Moore beams. "Just think of it James, we will have the first antarctic expedition with both women and a priest! Just think of the headlines!"


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## DallasPA (Apr 30, 2003)

Father Steele watches the expression on the face of the gentleman who reaches for the letter.  As the gentleman opens the letter, the expression on his face changes from bewilderment to relief.  As Mr. Moore makes his introduction, Father Steele gently reaches up and removes the hood concealing his face and exchanges a handshake with Mr. Moore.

As he does long following red locks are exposed, with eyes so green one could easily mistake the pupil for a blade of grass.

Father Steele then Replies,  “The pleasure is mine, but forgive me for I am a little at lost here.  What is this talk of an expedition.  The Archbishop mention that my services were of great importance but he never mentioned anything concerning an expedition.


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## Yellow Sign (Apr 30, 2003)

"The Arch-Bishop didn't tell you what this was all about? Oh my!" Moore says with a slight smile on his face. "Well several weeks ago, I met the Arch-bishop at a fund raising dinner. We talked about the expedition that Mr. Starkweather and I are planning and that we where looking for skilled people to be apart of it. The Arch-Bishop said he had just the man that we needed and that he would send him around. But you have no idea what expedition do you? Well let me tell you then. We are planning a Antarctic Expedition of exploration and discovery. We are going to trace the progess of the Lake Expedition of a few years ago and beyond. We are of need of a noted geologist such as yourself and hopefully you could provide much needed moral support and guidance! It's a chance of a lifetime! What do you say?"

 With that Starkweather who has been listening to Moore's speach chimes in. "Come on man!! We are of need of your services!! Who else is going to look after the spirital well being of over 30 men in a distant and remote land!"


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## zombiedude (Apr 30, 2003)

>>>>She poked Rayburn with the toe of her foot. "What about you, Mr. Attitude. You ever step foot outta your hole? Or are you just all talk with nothin' to back it up."<<<<<<<



_Taken slightly aback by the change in attitude_ 

"Ahem, yes, well.  I dare say I am well travelled as anyone here.  Perhaps even more so, but I went into . . .into. . .ah, a sort of vacation for a short time after visiting South America."

_Mutters to himself quietly, "Yes, a vacation."_ 

"The lure of this venture, however, drew me out of catharsis, and I have returned to the world of international travel and derring-do."

_Pauses a moment, then adds_ "What brings you on this trip?"

_Looks up and notices the entering priest_ 

"Dear, lord.  I do hope we aren't going to have a group prayer before setting off."


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## Yellow Sign (May 1, 2003)

As you talk and get some refreshments, a group of men begin talking about the Mistakonic Univeristy's Expedition of 1930-31. You stop to listen as the men recount it's exploits and fate. 

 The expedition landed at Ross Island in the Ross Sea. After several tests of the drilling gear and trips to Mt. Erebus and other local sights., the land party, consisting of 20 men and 55 dogs plus gear, assemble a semi-permanent camp on the barrier no far away and readied their five big Dornier aircraft for flight. 

 Using four of the aircraft, the fifth held in reserve at the barrier camp, the party established a second base camp on the Polar Plateau beyond the top of the Beardmore Glacier and did a lot more drilling and blasting in that vicinity. Many fascinating fossil finds where made using the drilling rig. 

 On January 6, 1931, Lake, Dyer, Pabodie, Daniels, and ten other men flew directly over the South Pole in two aircraft, being forced down once for several hours by high winds.  The published plan for the expedition at this point was to move the entire operation eastward another 500 miles in mid-January, for the purposes of establishing once and for all whether Antarctica was one continent or two. The public also recieved word during this period that Lake, the biologist, campaigned strongly for an expedition to the northwest before moving the base camp. Therefore, instead of flying west on the 10th of January as planned, the party remained where it was while Lake, Pabodie, and five others set out via sled to prode overland into unknown lands. This expedition lasted from January 11th through the 18th, and was scientificly successful and marred only by the loss of two dogs in an accident while crossing a pressure ridge.

 The expedition's planned agenda was changed once again when it was decided to send a very large party northeastward under Lake's command. The party left Beardmore by aircraft on January 22nd, and radioed frequent reports directly to the _Arkham_ for rebroadcast to the world. The party consisted of 4 planes, 12 men, and 36 dogs, and the drilling and blasting equipment. Later that same day the expedition landed about 300 miles east and drilled and blasted up a new set of samples, containing some very exciting Cambrian fossils. 

 Late that same day, about 10 p.m. Lake's party annouced the sighting of a new mountain range far higher than any heretofore seen in Antarctica. It was described as a very broad range with suspicions of volcanism present. One of the planes was forced down in the foothills and damaged on landing. Two other craft landed there as well and set up camp. Lake and Carroll, in the fourth plane, flew along the new range for a short while up close. Very strange angular formations, columns, and spiracles were reported on the highest peaks. Lake estimated the range peaks may top 35, 000 feet. Dyer called back to the ships and ordered the crew to ready large amounts of supplies for shipment to the new base which would have to be set up in the foothills of the new range. 

_January 23rd_ - Lake commented on the likelihood of vicious gales in the region, and announced that that they were beginning a drilling probe near the new camp. It was agreed that one plane would fly back to the Beardmore camp to pick up the remaining men and all the fuel it could carry. Dyer told Lake that he and his men would be ready in another 24 hours. 
 The rest of that same day was filled with fantastic, exciting news that rocked the scientific world. A borehole had drilled through into a cave, and blasting had opened up the hole wide enough to enter. The interior of the limestone cave was a treasure trove of wonderful fossil finds in unprecedented quantity. After this discovery, the messages no longer came from Lake but where dictated from notes that Lake wrote while at the digsite and sent to the transmitter by runner. 

 Into the afternoon the reports poured in. Amazing amounts of material were found itn the hole, some as old as the Silurian and Ordovician ages, some as recent as the Oligocene period. Nothing was found more recent than 300 million years ago. Fowler dicovered trianglar stipple-prints in a Comanchian fossil stratum that were close cousins to ones discoverd by Lake himself elsewhere on the continent. 

_Later that evening_ - Orrendorf and Watkins discovered a huge barrel shaped fossil of wholly unknown nature. Mineral salts apparently perserved the specimen with minimal calcification for a unknown period of time. Unusual flexibility remained in the tissues, though they were extremely tough. The creature was over six feet in length an seems to have possessed membraneous fins or wings. 

_Close to Midnight_ - Lake broadcast to the world that the new barrelbodied animals where the same creatures that had left the triangular prints in the fossil strata form the Archaean to the Comanchian eras. Mills, Boudreau, and Fowler found a cluster of thirteen more of the specimens about forty feet from the entrance, in asociation with a number of small oddly shaped soapstone carvings. Several of the new specimens were more intact than the first, including a intact head and feet samples that convinced Lake that the creatures were the track makers. Lake intended to dissect one, then get some rest and see Dyer and the others in a day or two. 

_January 24th, 3 a.m._ - Lake reported that the fourteen specimens had been brought back by sled from the dig site to the main camp and laid out in the snow. The fossils were extremely heavy and also very tough. He jokingly named the creatures the "elder ones".

_Last report, about 4 am._ - Strong winds rising, all hands at Lake's camp were set to building hurried snow barricades for the dogs and the vehicles. As a probable storm was on the way, air flight was out of the question for the moment. Lake went to bed exhausted. 

 No further word was received from Lake's camp. Huge storms that morning threatened to bury even Dyer's camp. At first it was assumed that Lake's radio was out, but continued silence form all four transmitter sets was worrisome. Dyer called up the spare plane from McMurdo to join him at Beardmore once the storm had subsided. 

_January 25th_ - Dyer's rescue expedition left Beardmore with 10 men, 7 dogs, a sled, and a lot of hope, piloted by McTighe. They took off at 7:15 a.m. and were at Lake's camp by noon. Several upper-air currents make the journyey difficult.

_4 p.m. the same day_ - A radio annoucement was sent to the world that Lake's entire party had been killed, and the camp was all but obliterated by incredibly fierce winds the night before. Gedney's body wa missing, presumed carried off by the wind; the remained of the team were dead and so grievously torn and mangled that transportation of the remains was out of the question. Lake's dogs were also dead; Dyer's own dogs were extremely uneasy around the camp and the few remains of Lake's specimens. It was decided that an expedition in a lightened plane would fly into the higher peaks fo the range before everyone returned home. 

_January 26th_ - Early morning report by Dyer talked about his trip with Danforth into the mountains. He described the increadible difficulty in gaining the altitude necessary to reach even the lowest of the passes at 24,000 feet; he confirmed Lake's opinion that the higher peaks were of very primal strata unchanged since at least Comanchiam times. He discussed the large cubiod formations on the mountainsides, and mentioned that approaches to these passes seemed quite navigable by ground parties but that the rarefied air make breathing at those heights a very real problem. Dyer described the land beyond the mountain pass as a "lofty and immense super-plateau as ancient and unchanging as the mountains themselves - twenty thousand feet in elevation, with grotesque rock formations protruding through a thin glacial layer and with low gradual foothills between the general plateau surface and the sheer precipices of the highest peaks. The Dyer group spent the rest of the day burying the bodies and collecting books, notes, etc., for the trip home.

_January 27th_ - Dyer's party returned to Beardmore and then the expedition packed and left soon after that.


The whole room is quiet as the story is finished. The long pause is broken by a cough and everyone starts to move again and low converstaions begin again in the large room.


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## DallasPA (May 1, 2003)

Father Steele looks Mr. Moore squarely in the eyes and states: "so you plan to retrace the path of the first expedition and pick up where they left off"

He continues:

"Hmmm....
I have reservations about this being quite that simple, but the archbishop has already appointted me to this.....uh....expedition, and so I pledge to lend you all of my mental, spiritual, and scientific expertise."

"Count me In"


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## DallasPA (May 1, 2003)

Father Steele Pondered over the story just told, and then stated: 

"Mr. Moore have you ever considered that maybe Dr. Lake stumbled upon a sacred burial ground, and began digging up distant relatives of something that was none to happy about his act of desecration?"


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## Yellow Sign (May 2, 2003)

Starkweather gasps. "A scared burial ground in the Antarctic are you mad?" He then starts to laugh. " Oh I see! You have quite a sense of humor for a Priest. Well Lake's party was poorly run and managed. Not like our expedition! we will have all the latest and best equipment and not to mention the best men!" Starkweather grins broadly as he glances around the room. Though when he locks eye contact with Roxie and Miss Paulos he stops smiling and looks away.


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## Byrons_Ghost (May 2, 2003)

Lawton shakes his head. "That priest sounds like a real joker. I thought maybe he was here just to keep the rest of us out of trouble." He winks over at Roxie.

"So are you still singing, or are you just enjoying the good life these days?"


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## Fanog (May 2, 2003)

Antonie has found a new table to lean against, and listens to the story while looking at Roxie and the priest. 
Even though all of the terms of archeology go completely over his head, the grandness of the story attracts him.

_They are still telling the tale of these men today... These men have gambled, put their life on the line to be a part of that expedition, to venture into uncharted lands. They found things no man had seen before, they made daily broadcasts..._

Antonie still leans against the table, staring at Roxie, but with an absent look in his eyes...


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## KitanaVorr (May 2, 2003)

Roxie exhaled with puff of white hot smoke.  "Cute fairytale.  That what tucks you in at night, Starkie?"  She gave him a wink when he glanced over at her and Rachel.  "Maybe you need something a little more substantial."

Laughing, she turned her attention to the new arrival, whispering to Rachel.  "Never did trust a priest.  Something just ain't right when a man doesn't want do a little wriggling under the sheets."

Her legs, long and silky, crossed at the knees as her full attention rested on Lawson's question.  "I enjoy life any way I get it," she nearly purred with a smile.  "If you're so interested in hearing me do a little singing, you should come down to my club tonight.  A little going away party before we all find ourselves a ways apart from civilization.  In fact, all of you are welcome.  You too, padre.


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## zombiedude (May 5, 2003)

_Walks over and shakes Father Steele's hand._ 

"Hello, Father.  Welcome to our little Donner Party.  I hope you like frozen food."


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## Byrons_Ghost (May 5, 2003)

Richard smiles broadly and gives Roxie a look which reflects the one she's been giving to him. "That sounds swell, I could use a late night out. Which club can we see you at?"


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## KitanaVorr (May 5, 2003)

Sliding herself off the table, a flash of thigh jumped into view just before the hem of her dress slide back to its proper flapper length.  The woman picked up her long luxurious fur coat, she slipped it over one arm.  Taking a drag of her cigarrette she eyed the group assembled around the table.

Roxie let out a long breath of white smoke.  "Blue Note Club, Lower Manhattan."  Winking at her new found companions, she added in her all inclusive husky voice.  "And leave your inhibitions at home."


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## Fanog (May 5, 2003)

_Well, that would be an awkward evening, considering this party. On the other hand, it might be good to get to know each other a bit before heading out. I wonder if Lake and Dyer had to put up with a crew like we're going to have._

Taking a cue from Roxie, Antonie walks over to her. He gives the collective assembly a nod, and prepares to escort Roxie out.

"Are we going?"


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## Yellow Sign (May 6, 2003)

Starkweather and Moore appear to be finished in there interviews and Starkweather gets the rooms attention. "Well, gentlemen! It has been a very productive day and I look forwards to seeing you again. Please meet back here at this hotel on September 1st. We plan on departing on September 15th and will will use the two weeks before to prepare for the trip. God speed to you all and I look forwards to seeing you in September." With that the meeting breaks up. 

[OOC: If your character wants to do anything before returning September 1st please post in the OOC thread what you would like to do. Also if you wish to hang out with other characters please do so and just tell me what yall are going to do?]


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## KitanaVorr (May 7, 2003)

"Yes, Tony, honey."

Throwing one last wink over her shoulder, she lets Tony help her into her fur coat before walking the long walk out of the room...making sure her hips swung in all the right directions and the cameras caught every good angle of her athletic and curvy body in that scandalous lacey number.  Though with Roxie Hart, she always made sure every angle was great.


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## DallasPA (May 7, 2003)

Father Steele momentarily ponders the idea of heading to the Blue Note in Lower Manhatten, but quickly dismisses the idea.

The Father replies, " I would love to spend more time acquinting myself with the rest of our party, but a club is not a place for a man of the cloth."...."May God Bless You!!!! and I hope to meet you all back here on the 1st."

Father Steele decides his time can be better spent researching the known geology of the South Pole, and intensely researching the the first expedition; especially any material that has anything to do with the diggings of Dr. Lake and his reported findings,  He decides that the University Library and a couple of Musuems would be a good place to start.


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## Yellow Sign (May 9, 2003)

_ Miskatonic University Library, Arkham Mass. 
September 27th, 1933
2:35 PM_

Father Steele finally closed Professor William Dyer's _Summary Report on the Miskatonic University Expedition to Antarctica, 1930-1931_. It is a fat university press document and the text is pedantic and dense, couched with abstruse technical vocabulary. It was a very dry read. 

"Well, at least I learned a thing or two." thought Father Steele. It praised Lake's work again and again, but carefully turns aside from sensationalism. The "Pre-Cambrian" footprints are identified as the fossilized imprints of some incredibly ancient form of sea-dwelling plant life, similar to the more recent well-preserved specimens found by Lake's party in the fossil cave. Lake's description of the specimens as "animals with internal organs" is clalked up to scientific error resulting from over-excitement, lack of rest, and possible "snow craze". 
Dyer is at a loss to explain the disaster at the camp, though is sorrow and regret are very clear. He concludes from the state of the remains that the men of the party would almost certainly have died from the blizzard in any case, but lays the blame for the destruction of the dogs and the dispersal of the evidence on a person or persons unknown--possibly the student George Gedney, who ran amok during the hours of the storm. 

Father Steele sits back and thinks. "I think my next move is to go see the specimens and evidence that was collected. I believe they have it stored in the Geology Department here." As he looks up he sees a familiar face, Richard Lawton sitting at a nearby table. "Thats the photographer from the _National Geographic_ that's going on the expedition. I wonder what he is doing here?"


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## Yellow Sign (May 9, 2003)

Miskatonic University Library, Arkham Mass. 
July 27th, 1933
2:40 PM


With several books including a Miskatonic University Yearbook from 1929 open on the table, Richard Lawton was trying to make sense of it all. It had taken some effort including using a favor from a friend at the _New York Times_. But he had found five of the twenty-two men who where part of Dyer's rescue party to Lake's Camp. They were:

*Professor Frank Pabodie*, a geologist who is still teaching at the University.

*Arthur Tighe*, a radio man who is working at the Kingsport Head Radio Station. Kingsport was just a few miles from Arkham. 

*Tom Sherman*, a pilot. He is currently in the Army, stationed in the Philipines. 

*Fred Williamson*, a camp worker. He lives in Indiana.

*William Wylie*, camp worker. He lives in Galveston, Texas.

All the others are either dead or missing. Lawton had also found something very interesting. Looking at the Miskatonic University Geology Department's faculity picture in the 1929 yearbook, he saw William Dryer standing next to Dr. William Moore. Moore had his hand over Dryer's shoulder and they both had big smiles on their faces. I guess that makes sense. Moore was a professor at Miskatonic at the time of the Expedition. 

Lawton sees a shadow come over the pictures and he looks up and there is Father Steele.


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## Yellow Sign (May 9, 2003)

_The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_







 "Tony" Louwman sat next to "Razor" Rayburn. Smoke from their cigarettes drifted up to the ceiling. Roxie was belting out a song as she stood on a panio. "She sure was in good form tonight!" thought Tony. Ever since she joined up with that Expedition she had been on a tear. Well that was fine by him as long as he got to go along too. 

 Rayburn was nursing a gin and tonic. As dives go this was a pretty nice place. They didn't water the drinks down too much and the music was good. Well great when Roxie was singing. They still threw insults at each other faster than you could spit but for some reason he always found himself back here hanging out with her and Tony. Tony was a pretty good lug.

Roxie let the last note hang in the air for a few seconds. The crowd erupted in a round of cheers, whistles, and applause. A handsome wolf with his tongue hanging down by his shoes helped her down off the panio and she blew him a kiss and then brushed him off. She sauntered over to her table. 
"Boy singing is thirsty work! Would one of you boy's get me a drink?"


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## DallasPA (May 9, 2003)

As the gentlemans face rose to meet mine, I replied:

" Greetings, I believe your name is Mr Lawton.  Even though we were not formally introduced, I do believe that you are a member of the expedition party that I am a part of.  If I am not being to intrusive, I thought maybe we could share any info either of us may discover.  That is, if you are indeed doing some background research on the previous expedition."


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## Fanog (May 11, 2003)

_The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

"Your turn, Rayburn. I'll have another one as well." Antonie says, smiling. He's come to appreciate the exchanging of insults between Roxie and the man next to him, enjoying to be around them both.

_Yeah, I may have been mistaken about this Rayburn character. A little on the nervous side, but nice enough to be around. Knows when to shut his flapper, too._

Feeling quite content, Antonie leans back in his chair, silently counting the days 'till the start of their expedition.


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## Byrons_Ghost (May 11, 2003)

Richard extends his hand. "Father Steele, right? Fancy seeing you here. Yeah, I'm checking some things out for the Class of Antarctica, 1931. The guys with Dyer didn't stick around much. I was actually hoping to figure out where Dyer and Danforth got to, but no one seems to know. Trying to avoid publicity, I guess."

Richard looks back at the books thoughtfully. "Didn't I hear you'd had some geological training? I was going to try to talk to Professor Pabodie while I was here, maybe you could come along and translate..."


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## zombiedude (May 12, 2003)

"So, um, Antonie, how did you meet up with our little songbird?  Not to pry, but are you an item?  I only ask because personal feelings out in the cold could affect judgment, and I need to know where we all stand."

_Slides Antonie another drink_ 

"Myself, I never let personal feelings get in the way of my job.  I've seen too many "professionals" meet with a grisly end because their emotions got in the way."  

_Orders an irish coffee_ 


"Why, I recall a time I was wing walking with a couple of fellow daredevils.  All three of us were on a different plane, and the poor fellow's wife went for a looong walk off a short wing.  He was so distraught that he fell too, and I suppose they are together today in the afterlife.  Tough luck, eh?  Thankfully, I kept my head, even though I had been seeing the girl."


_Gives Antonie a wink and then drinks his coffee_


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## Fanog (May 12, 2003)

_Us, an item? Dear God, the man mustn't have eyes for these kind of things. The way things were going at the reception, Roxie would have been an item with every one of the gents present. Er, except for Starkweather, or course._
Antonie flashes a silent smile, but promptly stops. He wouldn't want Rayburn to think something was up. _just keep it neutral..._

"No, we're not an item. I'm Ms. Roxie's personal assistent - chauffeur, a bit of bodyguard, that kind of work. Late Joseph Rockefeller, her husband, gave me a job, quite some years ago. Ms. Roxie kept me around after he died..."
Something in his voice tells that he'd rather not speak to much of it. At least, Antonie seems relieved to hear that Rayburn changes the subject.

After hearing the story of the wing-walkers, Antonie laughs, even though his arched brow shows that he doesn't necessarily approve.
"So, you could say that you kept your head, _because_ of what happened, he?"

"So, what got you started in this _daredevil_ business in the first place, boredom or some special occasion? Let's hear your story..."


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## zombiedude (May 12, 2003)

_Hmmmmm?_ 

"What got me started?  I suppose I wanted to see all the world and do everything in it.  Was a bit of a hedonist back in the day.  I did whatever would be exciting or dangerous or a combination of the two.  That's how I ended up wing walking, and bagging my buddy's wife.  He was a big game hunter, and had killed another man for trying to do what I had done."

_Seems to lapse into an internal reverie for a moment_ 

"Yessir, I did it all.  Mountain climbing, wing walking, safari, deep sea divi. . . .(seems to grow pale), uh among other things."

_Sips his coffee_ 

"My apologies about assuming you and the songbird were an item.  Didn't know you were here bodyguard, old man.  That explains why you hovered so close to her.  There was a time her reputation would have drawn me like a moth to a flame.  A real life Black Widow??  I'd have been all over her, but. . . .I haven't been myself for  a while.  This trip, this trip will hopefully reinvigorate my spirit."

>>"So, you could say that you kept your head, because of what happened, he?"<<<<


"Ha!  I kept my head much easier because he fell, to be certain.  Had he not gone over he'd have probably learned the truth and he carried an elephant gun."


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## Fanog (May 12, 2003)

"Oh, no apologies needed. I guess though, that it would already have been all over the papers, had Ms. Roxie found herself another gent. Nope, don't see that happening anytime soon..."

_Hmm, the past seems to hold some awkward memories for the both of us. And the setting here isn't really fitting for any heavy conversation as well..._

"That sounds like an impressive resume, indeed. Any experiences on the pole? I've heard it said that it's pretty cold down there...", he says, tongue in cheek, and taking a generous swig of the gin in front of him.

After that, Antonie's voice takes on a melancholy tone again, probably a bit of booze speaking up.
"You know... Me, I've not really been around much. I have to say that this trip seems pretty daunting to me. Don't know if I can be of much importance to the expedition, except as a mechanic maybe, or a field physician. Do you have any idea what you're expected to do when we're down there?"


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## zombiedude (May 12, 2003)

>>>>"That sounds like an impressive resume, indeed. Any experiences on the pole? I've heard it said that it's pretty cold down there...", he says, tongue in cheek, and taking a generous swig of the gin in front of him.<<<<<<<

"Damn cold.  I've been on several artic type trips, though none to Antartica.  I've been studying the terrain, though, and it looks like a rough trip, what with all the greenhorns, er, no offense.  I can't imagine how Moore and his partner ever managed to gather such a ragtag group.  It makes things even more dangerous, and I get know thrill when I think of that."

>>Do you have any idea what you're expected to do when we're down there?"<<



_He says with a straight face_, "Keep us all alive."

_Polishes off his coffee_ 

"We are headed into the roughest, most deadly terrain on the planet.  I'm here to help lead this group through ice, glare, snow, wind, sub-zero tempertatures, and whatever else god and nature see fit to throw at us.  I've seen men freeze to death.  Some plunged into hidden crevasses, others from exposure, and others from the madness of the emptiness that is there.  This is no summer outing.  I just wish Miss Roxie realized that.  Generally speaking, she's the most likely to die first.  No experience, all attittude.  She's headstrong, and won't listen.  Mark my words, when we get out there _make_ her listen, or she will end up like my wing walking ladyfriend."


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## Fanog (May 12, 2003)

"Hey there, no badmouthing the dame." The words come out quite harsh, a bit of anger shining through.

Antonie gulps down the rest of his gin, giving him a little time for his next words. They seem to be more carefully picked, even though the agitation hasn't left his voice.

"Listen, I don't pretend to know what it's like in the arctic, but I _do_ know one thing: once things get rough, it's not Knowledge or Skills that keeps you alive - It's strength of character. I told you that I haven't been around much, but I've seen and done enough to experience _that_. Yes, Roxie is persistant - stubborn even, maybe - but that's precisely why I am confident that she'll do more than fine on this expedition. She has quite a few tricks up her sleeve, and she'll probably surprise you more than once.  _Don't_ write her off before you've seen her. Okay...?"

After he's finished, Antonie stands up from his chair, allowing Rayburn some time to mull his words over. He hold up his empty glass to Rayburn. A smile comes to his lips, he seems to be at ease again.

"I'm having another one of these. Can I get you something too?"


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## zombiedude (May 12, 2003)

>>>>. "Hey there, no badmouthing the dame." The words come out quite harsh, a bit of anger shining through.<<<<<<<


"Whoa, calm down there chief.  I was merely giving you my estimation.  If you are her _bodyguard_ then you'll heed my advice.  No need to let it get personal.  Remember that wing?  Watch your step.  When we get out there it's going to be a team effort.  Now it doesn't matter if I like her or hate her, or you, or even Starkweather or Moore.  I'll watch all your backs, and mine as well, but I will not coddle or mince words.  _She is inexperienced, and all the gumption in the world won't keep you from freezing or falling through the ice._  You've made it pretty clear that she's your responsibilty, so I was just giving you a fair warning."  

_Rubs his eyes and then runs a hand through his hair_ >>"I'm having another one of these. Can I get you something too?"<<<



"No, thanks.  I'm done for the evening.  Look, you seem all right, and I am a right awful bastard at times.  I have problems. . . .that make me irritable.  So let's make a deal, OK?  We're both men of the world.  Let's speak our minds to one another, be as frank as necessary, and niether get offended.  Let's be professionals?  I won't go out of my way to piss you off, but I will tell you the things you need to hear no matter how hard they are to learn.  That's the first step in survival, and make no mistake about it; people will die on this expedition.  I fully expect no less than 5 to 8 men to die just from the usual things.  If you want Roxie to make it, well, . . . .listen to me and keep an eye on her.  I'm not wrinting _anyone_ off, but I can see danger dancing around her.  She isn't afraid of anything.  I can see that, and that more than anything else is what is going to cause her to put herself at risk.  I respect bravery, but worry about fearlessness.  I'll do the same for you.  I'll hear you, but won't get offended when you tell me something."

_He looks at Antonie as he gets up_ 

"So, what do you say?  Is it a deal?"  _Holds out his hand_


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## Fanog (May 12, 2003)

"No offense taken, I'm fine.", Antonie says midly. "I just wanted to make sure that you'd give her a fair chance, not see her as _luggage_, or anything. I'm sure that she doesn't need to be pampered by anyone, she can handle her own responsibility. But of course, I'll take care of her, like I've always done..."

Antonie sets down his empty glass, and picks up another cigarette.

"I appreciate your offer, and I'll gladly accept it. We'll surely have some rough times ahead of us, and It'll be good to be able to speak straight to one another. We'll all have to depend on each other out there, and I think that each and every one of us has their own responsibility in that regard. I'll do my utmost effort to see this expedition succesful, and all of its members returning safely. As I said, it's Ms. Roxie's own responsibility, but I feel that she think the same about this as I do. I'm sure that she'll be a worthy addition to the party."

He switches the cigarette to his left hand, and shakes Rayburns held out hand.

"I'm glad to have come to an understanding with you. I think that more things will become clear once we're prepared and actually underway, but I'm sure that I'll see you before then. Good luck in preparing, till later."

After saying their goodbyes, Antonie gives a final nod to Rayburn, picks up his glass and walks to the bar for a refill. He then heads over to the stage to pick up Roxie.


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## zombiedude (May 12, 2003)

_Watches Antonie head for the stage_ 

"Just a professional relationship, Tonie?  _Riiiiight._ Well, if self denial is your thing I won't stand in your way my friend."  He says to himself.  "At least there's one person on this trip that I can count on to act like a professional.  Me.  But I think Mr. Antonie will shape up, I just hope Roxie doesn't turn him into a pretzel, it seems he could be so much more.  Either way he has my respect.  A good man with a bad job."

_Lights a cigarette and lets it dangle so that smoke curls into his eyes.  Then he looks at his hands, and notices that for the first time in a loooong while he wasn't  secretly playing with a knife while he was chatting. _ 


"Hmmm, maybe this trip _is_ going to be good for me after all."

_Heads off to his room to study and try to rest._


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## Yellow Sign (May 12, 2003)

_The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

As Rayburn turns to leave the speakeasy something catches his eye. While there are several men staring at Roxie up on the stage, Rayburn sees two men who are intently watching her. One is a tall sharp nosed man with a thin mustache wearing a cheap checkered suit and the other is a thickly built man with greasy black hair and a pock marked face holding a boxy camera. The tall man with the mustache point over to the side of the stage and the the man with the greasy hair heads over there. Then joe with the bad suit grabs a pencil and notebook from his jacket pocket and heads towards Roxie and Tony.


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## zombiedude (May 12, 2003)

"Aw what the holy hell, now?"

_Tries to get Antonie's attention by waving and calling out like an old pal_, "Antonie, old buddy, how've ya been??"  Then he points at the 2 fellows approaching the stage.  He immediately sticks his hand behind his back and grips the handle of his blade, and then heads towards the men himself.


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## KitanaVorr (May 12, 2003)

_The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

The stage...nothing could take the place of the adoring crowd of men, virile men, drunk men.  Lascivious and pawing, with her at the center of all that manly huddle.

_C'mon babe
Why don't we paint the town?

And all that jazz _

Never one to let a drink go to waste, Roxie chugged the entire shot down, letting it burn into her throat all the way to her belly.  Giving her hips a little shake, the woman let out a wild shout reminscent of a Texas cattle drive.

"Whoa, boys!  That one was keeper, eh?"  Roxie laughed, tossing the glass to one admirer.  _Start the car, I know a whoopee spot, Where the gin is cold, But the piano's hot. It's just a noisy hall, Where there's a nightly brawl...And all...that...jazz!_"

She had nothing on but slick shiny beige outfit that covered much but hid nothing.  It hugged her ample curves like second skin and in the glare of the light, your eye could swear in that flash of movement she was nude.  Nevermind that the neckline plunged down to who knows where, and the strips of what sufficed as a skirt twirled around enough to give everyone a glimpse of every inch of her long and glorious gams.

With Tony approaching, she gave him a conspiratorial wink and a toss of her thick chestnut mane.  Who knows why he hung out with that spoilsport.  Well if Rayburn kept Tony happy, who was she to interfere..._much_.


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## Fanog (May 12, 2003)

_Heh? What's up with him? I though he was leaving. Oh wait, he's pointing at those fellows._

"Hey there", Antonie calls back. "I'll be right there. Just give me a moment." Antonie gives Rayburn as severe look and a nod, to awknowledge the heads-up he was given. 

Antonie sets down his drink on a table and quickly makes for the side of the stage, pushing through the crowd that's formed there.

_Let's see if I can get to Ms. Roxie before these fellows do. This is not really the time for interviews, I'd say. Let's hear if she feels like answering some of their inevitable questions._

If Antonie makes it there before the guy does, he'll try to draw Roxie's attention and exchange some words with her, preferably in a manner that can't be overheard by others present.
"It seems like two reporters of some sort, just over there. Are you up for it, or should I brush 'em off, tell them to come back some other time?"


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## DallasPA (May 13, 2003)

Father Steele replies to Mr. Lawton: "yes I do have some experience in geology and geophysics.  I have done some extensive studies in plate tectonics and strata.  I would be more than happy to accompany you on your visit to see professor Pabodie.  In fact, I would like to speak to as many of the previous party members as allowable.  We only have a few weeks, but I intend to get a more concise picture of what I have gotten myself into."

Father Steele pauses and then eagerly replies "lets get started"


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## zombiedude (May 13, 2003)

_Rayburn sees Antonie heading for the two men and eases his grip on his blade.  He still rushes to get to them before they get to the stage, for some reason he has a weird feeling about them._


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## Yellow Sign (May 13, 2003)

"Mrs. Rockefeller! Mrs. Rockefeller!" cries the man with the thin mustache. He waves to try and get her attention as he nears the stage. A group of fans and hangers on crowd around Roxie as she looks to see who is calling. The man seeing that he has her attention says. "Is it true that you are going with Starkweather-Moore Antarctic Expedition this fall?" Rayburn reaches the man just as he calls out to Roxie.


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## Yellow Sign (May 13, 2003)

_The Tuck Building
Department of Engineering
Miskatonic Univeristy_ 







Mr. Lawton and Father Steele make their way over to the Department of Engineering. Professor Pabodie agrees to a short interview. Professor Frank Pabodie is a short stocky man with a broad square face and a bristling white mustache. He looks much older than he did only a few years ago. He looks up as you enter. "Please gentlemen take a set. You wish to talk to me about something?" Pabodie sits back and lights a pipe as you set yourselves. Looking around the room you see one wall covered in bookcases filled with books. Pictures of oil rigs and other drilling devices are scattered along the other walls.


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## zombiedude (May 13, 2003)

Yellow Sign said:
			
		

> *"Mrs. Rockefeller! Mrs. Rockefeller!" cries the man with the thin mustache. He waves to try and get her attention as he nears the stage. A group of fans and hangers on crowd around Roxie as she looks to see who is calling. The man seeing that he has her attention says. "Is it true that you are going with Starkweather-Moore Antarctic Expedition this fall?" Rayburn reaches the man just as he calls out to Roxie. *




_Rayburn stands nearby, waiting for Antonie to make his move.  He will keep his eye on the guy with the camera._


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## DallasPA (May 13, 2003)

Father Steele responds: 

"I truly thank you for taking out the time to speak with my comrade and I.  I am Father Steele and this is Mr. Lawton, and we are members of the Starkweather-Moore Antarctic Expedition. "

Father still pauses to take in the Doctors response and then continues: 

" If you have not heard, we plan to repeat the transit of the original expedition which you were apart of.  I have only briefly looked over some of your partys' earlier findings, and it appears  as if there were no little happen stance of queer findings associated with Lake and his discovery.  We are interested in any information you are willing to share whether it be scientific, fact, or speculation concerning the first expedition."


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## Fanog (May 13, 2003)

_Damnit, too late... Mother, why now? I was just having a good evening. Ah well, no night off for me, I guess... Bah._

Antonie slips into his 'work' frame of mind and picks himself up a bit straighter, augmenting his already impressive build. "Sorry miss, sir...", he mutters repeatedly as he pushes through the crowd, counting on his posture to do most of the work for him.

As he nears the center of the crowd, his eyes search Roxie's, a simple nod confirming his presence. He quitly takes up a flanking position a pace behind her and takes a relaxed stance, waiting for Roxie to direct the show.


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## KitanaVorr (May 17, 2003)

A beautific smile touched that exquistely made up face.  "Why darling!  That is absolutely true!"  The singer sat down on the edge of the piano, crossing her long silky legs.  Nothing pleased Roxie more than to be holding court with her admirers.

"I'm going on a marvelous adventure!  Absolutely marvelous...why it will be more fun than buying a whole fleet of dresses!"  She laughed girlishly and winked one heavly fringed eyelash while she rested one elbow on Tony beside her.


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## Byrons_Ghost (May 17, 2003)

Richard nods at Father Steele's comments as he sits down. "That's quite right, professor, I thought it might be interesting to get some perspective from some of the Miskatonic Expedition members. I'd like to make it part of the article I'll be doing for our send-off, do you mind if I take notes?"

He pulls out a pencil and small tablet from the inside of his suit coat.


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## Yellow Sign (May 19, 2003)

_The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

 The reporter edges closer to Roxie through the crowd notebook in hand. He pauses for a second and then asks. "Is it true that you and James Starkweather are a item? "


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## Yellow Sign (May 19, 2003)

_The Office of Professor Pabodie
The Tuck Building
Department of Engineering
Miskatonic Univeristy _

Padobie pauses as he takes in your questions. "So your with Starkweather's group? Well, for my part, I was responsible for several experimental pieces of equipment that was put to good use on the expedition such as the lightweight portable drilling rig in which we were able to collect samples from under the ice and several heating devices for the aeroplanes. I was also part of the rescue party that found Lake's camp." Professor Pabodie stops for a minute and stares out of his window with a far off look on his face. He then shakes himself and looks to Father Steele. "I would not call their fate queer. It was a tragic loss of some fine men."


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## KitanaVorr (May 19, 2003)

_The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

Roxie laughed, loud and clear with a womanly tinge that could send more than just hearts a'fluttering.  She recrossed her legs, her skirt sliding impossibly higher.

"Oh, I won't deny that James Starkweather is a man in desparate need of woman like me," the incorrigible singer agreed with a luscious purr.  "Someone needs to remove that stick he's got hidden up there...and I'm known so well for my _gentle_ touch."

Her green eyes sparkled like twin emeralds.  "But couldn't you link me up with someone more sensational than Starkie?  Like the president or the pope?"


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## Fanog (May 19, 2003)

_The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

Antonie hangs back behind Roxie, seeming perfectly content to not be the center of attention.

_By God, where do they get this crap? Well, rather she then me..._

Antonie stays alert, waiting for the first sign from Roxie that she might need anything or wants to leave.


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## zombiedude (May 19, 2003)

_Rolls his eyes at the reporters, then looks at Antonie_ 

"Good lord, man!  Is this a common thing?  I thought they were working for the mob.  How do you put up with this nonsense?"


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## DallasPA (May 20, 2003)

The Office of Professor Pabodie
The Tuck Building
Department of Engineering
Miskatonic Univeristy 


Father Steele observes that Dr. Padobie is still quite disturbed concerning the whole ordeal.  Father Steele takes a seat and the replies in a very solemn voice:

"I am very sorry about the events which befell lake and his party.  What I was referencing to when I used the word queer, was some the strange discoveries that Dr. Lake uncovered.  An ancient species with internal organs, but from Dr. Lakes' own observation one that was more plant like then animal.  I do not find this to be the norm, so that is why I used the word queer.  Please forgive me if this use of terms offended you."  

"I must add that I believe that Dr. Lake was quite correct in his assumptions, and these very discoveries may have led to his untimely death."


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## Fanog (May 20, 2003)

_The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

Antonie leans in toward Rayburn, making sure he's not overheard. His voice is one of resignation.

"Well, you get used to it, eventually. It's not my dig, but she _loves_ it. It doesn't really bother me anymore, you just deal with them and move on. Just don't take 'em too serious, that's the key, I think. All in all, it's pretty harmless. Well, mostly it is..."


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## Byrons_Ghost (May 21, 2003)

_ Uh-oh, Richard thinks. I hope this isn't leading up to another story about evil spirits or some such nonsense. _

Richard clears his throat to get the professor's attention. "If you're willing to talk about it, professor, I'd like to hear your estimation of what went wrong with Lake's party. I've no doubt that it could be informative to both the general public and those of us following in his footsteps."


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## zombiedude (May 22, 2003)

Fanog said:
			
		

> *The Blue Note Speakeasy
> Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
> Around Midnight
> 
> ...




Rayburn sighs, "Well, old man, you have my sympathy then; since _I_ could never deal with this on any kind of a regular basis.  Still. . . I'll stick around just to make sure nothing gets out of hand."

_Pulls a cigarette, lights it, and takes a loooong drag.  Offers one to Antonie._


OOC  (Just trying ta juice up the board as it has been slow for a while)


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## Yellow Sign (Jun 2, 2003)

_The Office of Professor Pabodie
The Tuck Building
Department of Engineering
Miskatonic Univeristy _

Professor Pabodie looks at Richard with a sad look on his face. "What went wrong? The expedition was doomed from the start. You say your going down there this fall? Well, I will never go back. Ever. Nothing in the world could persuade me to set foot down there again - I cannot explain in any way that you would understand. Oh, the poor, poor men, my friends, the fools........It is not a place for us. Mankind was not made for such a place."

With that the professor goes silent for a few moments. He then seems to shake off his mood. "If you gentlemen could excuse me. I have a lecture in a few minutes. I am sorry that I could not be of more help."

(OOC: sorry to have been gone so long. but i am back and lets get the game rolling again!)


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## Yellow Sign (Jun 2, 2003)

_The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

 Just as the reporter is about to ask another question, several loud whistles can be heard from outside the front door of the speakeasy. The door bursts open and several of New York's finest rush into the room. One of the first copers in the door yells. "This is a raid! Everyone stay calm and stay where you are!" Suddenly the room is utter chaos as people jump up from their chairs and being to rush around like cockroaches after the light is turned on. People begin to yell and scream.


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## zombiedude (Jun 2, 2003)

"Dammit!  I should have been outta this hellhole!"  He looks to Antonie, "Get yer, gal, I'll try and clear us a path to the back, but be ready to fight.  It ain't gonna look good if the blue boys bust us here.  Probly get us booted off the team.  Let's go!"

_Turns and starts knocking people to the ground, looking for the closest possible escape route._


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## Fanog (Jun 2, 2003)

_The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

"Well, it looks like you should have left when you still could... Sorry 'bout that, John", Antonie says while clapping Rayburn on the shoulder. 

He then takes one step forward and slings an arm around Roxie, protecting her from the mass of people around her. If possible, he'll pull her to a spot where there's some people bewteen them and the photographer. "Come on, Miss. I think we're past the final call."

He then prepares to follow Rayburn to the back exit. _If they're worth anything, they'll probably have that one covered as well. Crap._ "Hey, let's try and do this the subtle way. Picking a fight will probably only get us that much deeper into the mess." He looks at Miss Roxie, regretfully noting that her notoriety probably makes her sticks out of the crowd like a Christmas tree in June.


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## KitanaVorr (Jun 2, 2003)

_The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

Roxie sighs, evidently upset that her time in the limelight has been spoiled by the pesky coppers.  Winking at Tony, she jerks thumb in the direction of the dressing rooms.  "How about we navigate a window or two?" she suggests, allowing Tony to manuever her around to safety.  Reaching out, she'll grab any discarded dark coat to cover her rather flashy outfit.


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## Fanog (Jun 2, 2003)

_The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

"Hmm, nice thinking. That might work".

Antonie catches Rayburn's attention, and makes a sharp nod to the direction where the dressing rooms are located. He then starts making his way over there, letting Roxie follow in the slipstream of his massive body. He takes constant looks over his shoulder to see if he and Rayburn are still following without trouble.


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## Byrons_Ghost (Jun 2, 2003)

Richard stands and closes his notebook. "Well, that's alright professor. I can make do with a quick statement. Thanks for your time."

On their way out, Richard fumes, "What a load of applesauce. I haven't met a professor yet who wanted to be on time for his lectures. Well, what do you say father, should we head out Kingsport way?"


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## Yellow Sign (Jun 2, 2003)

_The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

 Antonie sees some of the band members and a cigarette girl run through a curtained doorway which leads to the dressing rooms. Rayburn and Antonie open a way through the crowd for Roxie. As John looks back he sees a fight breakout with a few of the speakeasy patrons and the coppers. Cramming into the crowded hallway, you see people infront rushing to the back door. As the door opens, police whistles and cries of surprise can be heard as the first out the door is nabbed. Roxie sees her dressing room door nearby and she opens it. John and Antonie push their way in and close the door behind them. It is a small dressing room  with a bathroom and a single window with a steel grate covering it.


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## zombiedude (Jun 3, 2003)

"This is one hell of a way for us to get to know one another, Miss Hart.  Gimme your foot, Antonie, I'll lift you up to the window, then you can pull Roxie up, then me.  Have to hurry though, coppers are sure to start looking here soon. . . "

_He instinctively reaches back and fingers the hilt of his knife that is tucked in the back of his pants_ 

". . .Things might get ugly, otherwise."


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## Fanog (Jun 3, 2003)

_The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

"Yeah, I'd like to, but I don't think my body'll squeeze through the grating", Antonie says with a grim sense of humor. "Let me see if we can do something about that."

The big man looks over his shoulder, eyeing the door through which they entered. "Can that thing be locked?"

The then turns to the grate, giving it a shake to see how strudy it is and checking to see how it's fixed to the window. _Damnit, no tools. Knife might work if it's screws, but that would take ages. Maybe we'll just have to force things a bit._


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## KitanaVorr (Jun 3, 2003)

_ The Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

Grabbing her lovely fur coat, Roxie slips that on over herself while the two men tried to figure out what to do.  She picks up a powder puff and dabs it at her nose, fixing her reflection expertly with her fingers.  When she's finally satisfied that she looks divine again, she turns her attention to the men.

"Bars?  Well if this building is as old as we think and then if you twist the bars around it, it should loosen it from its base.  Then shove outward a bit pretty hard like and it should break some of that cheap brick loose." She suggested, blowing on her nails and holding them out to the light.

"And, sour face," she addressed Rayburn as she reached out to lock the door.  "I don't think stabbing coppers with that knife you're always playing with will make it any better."


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## zombiedude (Jun 3, 2003)

>>>"And, sour face," she addressed Rayburn as she reached out to lock the door. "I don't think stabbing coppers with that knife you're always playing with will make it any better."<<<<

"I am not considering stabbing policemen," he says huffily, "The knife just makes me feel _better._ 

_If the door opens inward he'll brace up against it, and then look for a way to lock it.  Otherwise, he'll just look for a lock._


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## Yellow Sign (Jun 3, 2003)

_Dressing Room in back of the Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

 Rayburn sees a small sliding bolt about eye level on the door. It does not look too sturdy to him though. The door opens inwards into the room and a wooden chair sits next to the it.

 Antonie opens the window and checks the iron grating. It is bolted to the wall with rusty screws. The plaster and brick is abit chipped and worn around the bolts. Testing the strength of the grating, Antonie grabs it and pushes and pulls. The grate strains against the bolts and it gives slighty.


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## Fanog (Jun 4, 2003)

_Dressing Room in back of the Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

Antonie gives a content nod if his head. "Well, this shouldn't give us too much trouble. I think we'll be out of here in a few moments."

The big man turns sideways a bit and leans on his hind leg. He then quickly shifts his weight to his front leg, forcefully putting his shoulder to the grate and hoping it'll come loose.


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## zombiedude (Jun 4, 2003)

_Hands Antonie the big Bowie kept behind his back to pry the grate with, then slips the chair under the doorknob quietly, and slides the bolt into place. _ 


"Lets hope that they stay busy out there."

_Listens at the door intently._ 

Looks at Roxie and says, "Lady, if everyday with you is this exciting we are in for one _hell_ of a trip."


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## DallasPA (Jun 4, 2003)

The Office of Professor Pabodie
The Tuck Building
Department of Engineering
Miskatonic University 

Father Steele turned and replied to Richard, "Maybe Kingsport would be a good option at this time.  Lets go, but I don't believe that we should let Professor Pabodie off that easy.  He appears to be a man of strong convictions.  I think after he has time to think about all of the implications concerning the two expeditions, and possible dangers that we may be faced with, I think he may be compelled to be a bit more open if we approach him prior to our departure to the antarctic."


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## Byrons_Ghost (Jun 4, 2003)

"Sure, I guess one of us can drop by in another week or two. Still plenty of time. In the meantime perhaps we'll have more luck with Mr. Tighe."

With that, Richard starts up the car and makes for Kingsport Head.


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## KitanaVorr (Jun 4, 2003)

> _Originally posted by zombiedude _*
> Looks at Roxie and says, "Lady, if everyday with you is this exciting we are in for one hell of a trip." *




"Why, thanks, Rayburn...I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."  Roxie thinks for a moment, paused in mid-adjusting of her silk stockings.  "I think that's the _only_ nice thing you've ever said to me," she corrected with a smirk and a laugh.

Turning her gaze to Tony, Roxie remarked offhandedly, "You know, Tony.  You always look so much sexier when you're working that muscle of yours.  Sweat on a man is a fine, fine thing."  She winks at Rayburn.


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## zombiedude (Jun 5, 2003)

KitanaVorr said:
			
		

> *
> 
> "Why, thanks, Rayburn...I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."  Roxie thinks for a moment, paused in mid-adjusting of her silk stockings.  "I think that's the only nice thing you've ever said to me," she corrected with a smirk and a laugh.
> *






"Yeah, well, I had two hours sleep so I'm in a good mood."  
_Tries to ignore the wink._ 

"How's it goin' Tony?  Is the knife any help?"


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## zombiedude (Jun 5, 2003)

_Waits for Tony to get the window open by lighting up a cigarette, then he offers one to Roxie._ 


"Just so you know, if we get busted in this Gin Joint I'm countin' on you ta sweet talk Starkweather and Moore."


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## Yellow Sign (Jun 6, 2003)

_Dressing Room in back of the Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

Antonie uses the big bowie knife to good effect to pry the grating from the crumbling brick wall. After a minute or so of strenuous exertion, the grating falls with a clatter into the alleyway. Looking up and down the alleyway it looks clear of any signs of the police. At that moment someone tries to open the door and then pounds on the door. You hear! "Open this door! It's the police!"


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## Yellow Sign (Jun 6, 2003)

_Kingsport Head Radio Station_







It takes about a half hour to reach the Kingsport Head station. The massive radio towers appear to be able to recieve messages from around the world. After a short time, Arthur McTighe meets you in the station lounge. He is a tall angular fellow in his late tweenites, with a shock of black hair growing back from a widow's peak, with long hands, and a wide expressive mouth. 

"Hello there" he says with a easy going grin. "I am Arthur McTighe. You wanted to talk to me about something?"


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## KitanaVorr (Jun 6, 2003)

_Dressing Room in back of the Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

"I think its time to call it a night boys," Roxie indicated as she gathered her coat and things together quickly.   "Those coppers didn't pay that extra for backstage passes, eh?"  Pushing her things outside, she waited for Tony to help her through the window. "And don't worry, Rayburn.  I think Starkie and I have the beginnings of a wonderful understanding."


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## zombiedude (Jun 7, 2003)

_Waits for Roxie and Antonie to make it out the window before he goes through._ 

>>"And don't worry, Rayburn. I think Starkie and I have the beginnings of a wonderful understanding."<<<


"Lady, of that I have no doubt."



_Stubbs his cig out on the wall, and watches as they make their way out._

"Antonie, could you give me a hand?  Thanks."


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## Fanog (Jun 7, 2003)

_Dressing Room in back of the Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

"Well, let's go then..." Antonie props up his knee for Roxie to take a step on, taking her hand to stablize her. After she is through, he helps up Rayburn while giving him his knife back.

He takes a last look to see if the chair will hold before lifting his big body off of the ground and through the window. 

"This way, the car is out back."


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## KitanaVorr (Jun 7, 2003)

_In back of the Blue Note Speakeasy
Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
Around Midnight_

"Let's go then!" Roxie agreedly, picking up her small bag, tossing her fur coat around her and heading down the alley.  Her heels clicked rhymically as she walked.  "We can head back home, Tony and put up our feet for a while.  Lay low while I catch a nap or two...its been such a fun night!  Don't you think?"


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## zombiedude (Jun 7, 2003)

_Stifles a yawn_ 

"A nap sounds damn good about now.  Would you mind dropping me off at the hotel?"


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## Byrons_Ghost (Jun 9, 2003)

Richard extends his hand and puts on his best press smile. "Richard Lawton, Mr. McTighe, pleased to mee you. I'm a corresponent with National Geographic. And this is Father Steele. We're both with the Starkweather-Moore expedition that's leaving for antarctica this September. We'll be following a good deal of Lake's path, and I was hoping to talk with you about your experiences down there, perhaps get an interview."

"Of course, if you don't have too much time right now we can always arrange a meeting. We were just at Miskatonic to speak with Professor Padobie, but he had to leave suddenly." Richard purses his lips, then shrugs. "These academics are a lot busier than I gave them credit for, you know?"


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## Yellow Sign (Jun 12, 2003)

_Kingsport Head Radio Station_ 

 "Well, Mr. Lawton, Father Steele! Glad to meet you. Sure we can talk abit. Care for a cup of java?"  says McTighe. "So your headed out with Starkweather this fall. I bet your excited to go! As for Professor Pabodie, he is a good chap. But that trip changed us all. The Mountains of Madness. That's what Dyer called them. I guess they call them the Miskatonic Mountains now. Incredible things - God in Heaven! Like hallucinations - they reached up so high, impossible peaks and spires. And evil. They looked evil."

"I think they were."


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## Yellow Sign (Jun 12, 2003)

_Somewhere in Lower Manhatten
After Midnight_ 

 After jumping into the alleyway, you three make it to the street and away from the chaos infront of _The Blue Note_. You split up and go your seperate ways after saying your good nights.


[OOC: After Lawton and Father Steele are finished interviewing McTingle we will fast forward to Sept. 1st. If you wish to do anthing else before then just ask in the OOC thread.]


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## zombiedude (Jun 12, 2003)

Rayburn will make sure his knife is in good condition, and if it isn't then he'll acquire a new one.


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## Byrons_Ghost (Jun 14, 2003)

[OOC Thought I'd let the padre get a question in here, but I guess he's not around....]

"Evil, eh?" Richard writes a few things down in his notebook. "Can you expand on that? I assume that this was a first impression upon seeing them- what were things like for you as time went on and the rescue got underway?"


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## DallasPA (Jun 18, 2003)

Father Steele Pauses briefly, takes a seat, and listens with anticipation to Mr Mctighe's discourse.


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## KitanaVorr (Jun 25, 2003)

_Park Avenue Penthouse
New York City, New York_

Roxie stands on the rooftop, gazing over her beautiful Central Park view.  The air is chilly, but her fur coat over a silk robe keeps her reasonably comfortable, as does the healthy glass of illegal whiskey in one hand.

Over in one corner a grammophone could be heard playing music - her music - her voice drifting over the gorgeous New York night.

Perhaps she'll have visitors this night - would be swell to lesson the loneliness if for a bit.  Certainly her dead husband's friends were quick to drop her as soon as he popped off.  No need to be nice to a woman whose stepchildren were sure to strip of all that wealth and throw her back into the streets where good old Joey had found her.

Of course, the creme of society underestimated the determination of one Roxy Hart Rockefeller.


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## Fanog (Jun 25, 2003)

There is but a single small light burning in the room. Antonie is getting frustrated with himself, never having had to learn things from a text before. Still, the closer it gets to the departure date of the expedition, the more nervous he becomes.

_Maybe Rayburn was right, and I'm not going to cut. But I'll be damned if I don't try. Not this time._

Antonie bends himself over the thick volume once more, studying the human physique and its response under conditions of extreme cold. The words just won't get absorded in his memories...

The big man finally admits to himself that he's just more of a do-and-learn type and gives up, closing the heavy tome. In the half-dark of the room he walks over to the cabinet, pouring himself a generous glass of gin.


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## zombiedude (Jun 25, 2003)

RAyburn paced his room, his bed was pristine from non-use.  He puffed a cigarette steadily.  His eyes were heavy, but the thought of closing his eyes terrified him.  That would mean sleeping, and sleeping lead to dreaming, and dreaming meant that he'd have to live Costa Rica all over again and he couldn't do that.  Not if he could help it.

    Still, he could only go so long without sleep.  He realized that he was not thinking clearly after the events at the Speakeasy.  _What was he thinking heading for the back door?  He knew cops would be waiting out there.  Still, he almost lead the three of them into the arms of the police._ 

Thank god for Tony.  At least _he_ kept a clear head.  Maybe he had the fellow all wrong.  He certainly seemed capable after all, and he kept a clear head in the crisis.

So did the dame, dammit!  She was cooler than most men he knew.  Maybe Tony was right about her, too.   Keeping cool was the first step in survival, everything else came second.  All the skills in the world are worthless if you're too panicked to use them.

Obviously, he'd have to rethink his opinion of all of his team members. 

 Well, except for the priest and the reporter.

_They still had to prove themselves._ 

Regardless, none of that really mattered if he didn't get rest.  

_He looked to the bed and felt the dread smother him.  Maybe he could use the morphine one more time. . . ._ 

No, he would try it without the drugs, no need to complicate matters.  Rayburn climbed onto his bed.  He felt under the pillow and found his blade where he had left it.  He gripped the hilt in his hand, closed his eyes, and prayed that the nightmares would go easy one him tonight.


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## KitanaVorr (Jul 2, 2003)

_Park Avenue Penthouse
New York City, New York_

It was swanky.

It was expensive.

And it was the perfect example of someone who definitely had more money than they knew what to do with.

Roxie Rockefeller knew how to throw one hell of a party and she did.  As a farewell - have a blast - go slumber party go - for the antartic crew...she threw it big and wild.  The whole place was filled with ice sculptures of all kinds, pretty fake snow with the real one not too far behind outside.  Plenty of white flowers and fur everywhere.

The food tasted divine - as it should being catered by the finest restaurant in New York City.  In one corner an jazz band complimented everythign with their swankiest sound.  All around guests of all shapes, sizes, social strata mingled in ways that would have alarmed any true believer in the heirarchy of NYC's social scene.

The hostess herself was dressed in one of her more revealing and extremely wild getups.  It hugged her curves enough to make them illegal, showed off her glorious gams, and shimmered with every shake of her hips as she walked.  

Here a nod, there a nod.  Roxie knew how to work it, and work it she did.


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## zombiedude (Jul 2, 2003)

Rayburn put on his best tux, slipped a knife behind his back, and a razor in his sock.  He then hailed a taxi, determined to have a good time if it killed him.

"God," he muttered to himself, "I hope that woman doesn't manage to get the police involved tonight."


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## Fanog (Jul 2, 2003)

_Park Avenue Penthouse
New York City, New York_

Antonie hangs by the door, getting away from the crowd for a moment. He had liked Roxie's idea of a party, a get-together for everyone on the expedition. He hadn't expected it to turn out like _this_... Of course, he should've known.

Antonie wasn't really interested in those present, the jetset of New York. He didn't know any of them and couldn't be bothered to. It was quite obvious for any who saw him that he wasn't really part of the night's events, dressed in one of his normal dark suits. He just wanted to get a feeling for those who would join them to the south. As such he hung back in the hall near the elevator, waiting for someone that he would recognize from their earlier meeting in the hotel.


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## DallasPA (Jul 2, 2003)

St Patrick's Cathedral
Archdiocese 
460 Madison Ave
NY NY 10022  

Well this was the night, Father Steele thought as he glimpsed at the invitation for the party being thrown by Mrs. Rockefeller.  Earlier in the day Father Steele  had been summoned by the cardinal who suggested that he should attend this, this ......party.  Well it was close enough to walk, being that the cathedral was near 51st. 

Father Steele located his finest black suit and reached into the closest retrieving one of his black embriodered ceremonial cloaks.  He paused in front of the mirror and thought, not bad, as his long red hair flowed past his shoulder.  He grabed his cross and rosary and placed them carefully around his neck.   He then turned to a Bureau and knocked on an undisclosed location which revealed a secret drawer.  From there he retrieved his two beloved revolvers and placed them into his shoulder holster.  The cardinal had reminded him that he was specifically chosen for this assignment and to be especially vigilant.  For the hell-spawn which attacked the last expedition might try to infiltrate this expedition with a human agent.

As Father Steele left the cathedral and emerged on 51st, he toke the time to really take in his surroundings.  Just then he thought of the final words the cardinal spoke, "Father Steele  it is imperitive that you find ways to assist your group in preparing for the hell-spawn, without alarming or alerting them to what they are facing.  If you are not successful I fear that I will never see you again my son."

Father Steele  made the walk in little over an hour, and noticed the sudden increase in traffic and pomp.  "This must be the Place", he replied.  He greeted the doorman and gave his name.  The doorman responded, Mrs Rockefeller is expecting you Father Steele.  The ride on the elevator was uncomfortable, but the father pressed on to the swank quarters.  As he entered the great room he was totally over taken by the gross morality of it all.


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## KitanaVorr (Jul 10, 2003)

_Park Avenue Penthouse
New York City, New York_

Roxie swoops in to greet the incoming guests, alighting on both Rayburn and Steele at the same time.  Jewels glittered on her fingers, her throat, hair and ears.  Everything about her sparkled like a billion carat diamond, and she certainly did love her diamonds.

"Hello darlings!" she cooed grasping each by the hand and blowing air kisses at them.  From the whiff of her breath, she had been availing herself liberally of the martinis.  "Grab a drink and get yourself into the swing of things!  I don't like sour looks at any of my parties!"


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## DallasPA (Jul 11, 2003)

Park Avenue Penthouse
New York City, New York

Outwardly, Father Steele nodded kindly at Roxie's greeting.  Inwardly Steele was summoning every last remnant of internal fortitude, he found himself struggling to keep his senses from being overwhelmed by familiar but distant sensations.  The aroma of alcohol on roxies breath, the softness of her hands, subtle currents of efferversence which tickled his nostrols, and the suductiveness of her attire threatened to capture Father Steele in some etheral dreamscape.  He was finally able to wrest control off his senses once roxie released his hand.


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## Toric_Arthendain (Jul 12, 2003)

OOC:  Well, now that Kit is back, do you guys want to continue the party posting for a bit longer or do you want me to move things forward to September 1st?  I'm ready to go whenever you all are.


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## Toric_Arthendain (Jul 15, 2003)

_September 1st, 1933_ 
_Amherst Hotel_ 
_New York City, New York_ 

The date has arrived when expedition members were expected back in New York to assist in preparations for departure to the ice.

Over the last several months, the Starkweather-Moore Expedition has been in the news.  Newspapers and radios have been featuring occasional coverage about Starkweather and his plans.  Equipment and supplies have been trickling into the expedition warehouses for weeks.  The ship is docked, the last supplies have been purchased and the various members of the expedition party are slowly tricking in to the city, singly or sometimes in groups, to the expedition's ad-hoc headquarters, the Amherst Hotel.

The Amherst Hotel is a mid-sized five-story older building on the corner of 8th Avenue and 44th Street in Manhattan, two blocks from Times Square, in a quiet business district.  Two floors, the 4th and 5th, have been hired out for the members of the expedition.  Expedition members are expected to stay in the hotel accomodations until departure, regardless of whether they have actual residences in New York City.  The hope of Starkweather and Moore is that this will help the members of the expedition get to know one another prior to boarding the ship and also to have everyone in one location to make handing out pre-departure work assignments easier.

The lobby is small and dark, with oiled paneling and a pair of rather pallid potted palms by the door.  The desk clerk, a thin sallow fellow with black hair, nods eagerly and chatters away while he gets the room keys.

"Here ya go, pal," says the clerk to the each person that comes up to check-in.  "Fourth floor, turn left at the top.  You got the Professor right next door, though your boss, he's one floor up, on five.  Fire escape's the end of the hall, if it gets too hot for ya.  You need anything, just ask for Tim.  That's me, Tim.  Pleased to meet ya.  I'm on desk during the day, eight to six."

"Yessir," he adds, "it sure is good to see you fellas...and ladies...here at last.  Makes a guy feel like he's part of the whole thing, y'know?  Boy, what I wouldn't give to go off exploring the world.  What a life!  'Course the wife would never stand for it, me going off that way and all.  No sir, never in a million years.  You got kids?  Boy, I bet yer kids are as proud as punch..."

"Hey, that reminds me," Tim says, producing a note from a desk drawer.  "I got a note for you here.  The Professor says to give one uh these to each of ya.  Here ya go!"

He hands each person checking in a short note of welcome and rings for a bellhop to carry their bags to their rooms.  The notes are all the same, written in a cramped meticulous hand.

*Welcome to New York,  Please be so good as to join us at the ship as soon as you have freshened up.  SS Gabrielle, Pier 74-B, 12th Avenue at 34th, next to the Italian Royal Mail berth.  Regards, Moore*

Check-in for each person pretty much follows this same pattern throughout the day.


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## DallasPA (Jul 15, 2003)

September 1st, 1933 
Amherst Hotel 
New York City, New York 


Father Steele arrives, unpacks, and then ponders the whole notion of spending the next four weeks residing in the hotel.  After a brief freshening he dresses in his normal attire and places his two revolvers in his houlder holster.  This reminded him that he will have to find a special location within his room to conceal some of his prized, but discreet items.  As for the meeting at the ship Steele was very interested in looking over the ship, supplies, and preparations being undertaken for this voyage.  Besides, Steele had a special request that he needed to run by Moore.

As Steele approached the harbour he asked a passerby for directions to Pier 74-B.  As he approached the pier the ship came into plan view, he was quite amazed by the size and appearance of the craft......


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## Fanog (Jul 16, 2003)

_September 1st, 1933
Amherst Hotel 
New York City, New York_

Antonie came into the hotel lobby, carrying more bags than could possible be his alone. He went to the desk and settled affairs for both him and Roxie, insisting that he got a room near hers.

As both of them got settled in their rooms, Antonie took some time to acquaint himself with his room. He soon called on Roxie's door to see if she was ready to go, but was quickly brushed off. After a good thirty minutes, she was finally ready to make her way to the ship.

Antonie drove and in short order they arrived at the pier. The big man got out of the car, taking a moment to take in the sight of their home for quite some time to come. "Well, this is it..."


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## KitanaVorr (Jul 17, 2003)

_ September 1st, 1933
Amherst Hotel
New York City, New York_

It didn't matter where Roxie was, she never stepped out without dressing completely to the nines.  Heels, flirty dress, and sumptous fur coat - you couldn't miss her at all.

Right now though she was yawning at Tony while he wound his way through the busy streets of New York City.  "Its too early to be out!" she complained, checking her nails.  A visit from the hotel hairdresser and massuese happened this morning and even it was earlier, Roxy was looking as divine as ever.

Once they got there, Roxie got out of the car, cast one uninterested look at the ship and started walking up the ramp, flinging one long fox stole over her right shoulder.  "It looks like a dump.  Couldn't they have sprung for a ship with much brighter colors? Maybe a few more twinkle lights here and there?"


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## Toric_Arthendain (Jul 19, 2003)

OOC:  I'm going to wait another day or two before posting the next part in the event that Byrons_Ghost or zombiedude want to write posts.


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## zombiedude (Jul 19, 2003)

OOC:  Gang my wife completely erased my computer, and it was out for 2 weeks while waiting on parts and programs.  It's all better now, and I will be rejoining the game.  Did we find a new GM?


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## zombiedude (Jul 19, 2003)

Rayburn sighed as he checked his baggage.  "Well, old man, this is it, no turning back now.  Either you make it or you die.  The wasteland is unforgiving, just as your comrades will be if you fail."

He pulled the razor from his sock and ran his finger along its edge.  It was sharp enough for his needs.  He closed it and slipped it back into his sock.

He left the hotel and headed for the ship, eager and anxious simultaneously.  He arrived just in time to hear Roxie's comments.  He started to make a snide comment, but then thought better of it, instead he said, "Well, it might not be much to look at, Miss Rockerfeller, but then it isn't the Titanic _either_.


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## KitanaVorr (Jul 21, 2003)

zombiedude said:
			
		

> *"Well, it might not be much to look at, Miss Rockerfeller, but then it isn't the Titanic either. *




Roxie sniffed.  "Well at least we'd sink in style...much better than drowning in a dump....men.  I can see why Starkie was too embarrassed to want dames on here."  Her eyes cast over the crew, checking to see if there happened to be any choice tidbits of men in the whole lot of them.


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## zombiedude (Jul 21, 2003)

"Well, I for one am just glad it isn't the HMS Friday."


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## Toric_Arthendain (Jul 22, 2003)

_September 1st, 1933_
_2:00PM_
_SS Gabrielle, Pier 74_

The dock where the Gabrielle is tied up is only 13 blocks from the hotel and takes only a few minutes by taxi or private car.    The Hudson River docks are a place of constant motion.  Smells of sea water, oil, fish, and damp wood are mixed with the sweat of the stevedores, and fill the air.  Dozens of ships of all sizes and descriptions are tied up here, in various stages of loading and unloading.  Huge cranes swing heavy loads overhead, and the ground is littered with cast-off packing materials, broken glass and bits of metal.  It takes nimble footwork to avoid being knocked over or yelled at by the bustling dockhands.

Tied up on the north side of Pier 74 along the Hudson River shores of New York City is the Gabrielle, its bow facing out.  On the south side of the pier, the brightly lit and well-maintained facilities of the Italian Royal Mail line make the expedition's berth seem shabby and unimportant.

The investigators pull up at the foot of West 34th Street, and cross over Twelfth Avenue to the pier shed front.  A small sign has been stenciled and nailed up near one of the two large doors.

*Starkweather - Moore* 
*Antarctic Expedition* 
*Please Check In* 
*With Guard* 
*No Smoking* 

An overweight Port Authority guard in the small office at the door checks to see if each investigator's name corresponds to one on his clipboard.  Once approved, the guard says, "Go on in, bud."

The pier extends six hundred feet into the river, and is eighty feet wide.  A long narrow shed runs down the center of the pier, fifty feet wide and thirty feet high in the center.  The shed's interior is piled with cargo - boxes, bales, drums, and pallets, in stacks fifteen feet high, running back from the outdoor work area in three long rows with narrow aisles in between.

Most of the cargo is not for the expedition.  Only a few of the crates and drums on the north side of the shed have expedition stencils on them.  The interior of the shed is cool and very gloomy.

A railway track runs along each side of the pier between the shed and the ship and is used to move cargo along the dock.

Climbing the gangway up to the deck, and dodging various maritime types who all seem to be in a hurry to go up or down the gangway, the investigators are met at the deck by a member of the crew.  He directs them forward to the ship's mess.  To this point, Roxie hasn't seen a single sailor who strikes her fancy.  All of them are big, burly men who smell of sweat and salt.

Professor Moore is in the ship's mess hall, standing by a table covered with papers, clipboard in one hand, conferring with one of the cargo masters.  He is a small neat man with gray-shot dark brown hair, wire-rimmed glasses and a trim goatee.  He grees the investigators warmly, but with a distracted air, and gestures to his lists.

"Ah, you've arrived!  Capital!  Good to have you aboard.  There's a lot to do, of course, so we'd best get started.  Have you eaten?  Sandwiches and coffee are on the table over there.  Take what you like, and go see Mr. Sykes in the crew's lounge.  Right through that door and down the hall.  Oh yes, one more thing.  We all meet each morning at eight o'clock, in the Rose Room at the hotel.  If I don't see you again today, I trust I'll see you there."

OOC:  I'll stop there and give everyone a chance to react and interact before I post more.  This post was getting long!


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## DallasPA (Jul 24, 2003)

Father Steele waits for the group to disperse and then approaches Professor Moore.  Father Steele approaches the professor and states the following:  "Professor Moore. I have a request that might seem strange, but I must ask it anyway.  I just hope you will be reasonable enough to grant me this request.  The Holy Roman Catholic Church has donated a sizeable sum to assist your expedition, and selected me to accompany you for reasons that I cannot explain at this time.  I will state that the Church has an extreme interest in some of the events which befall the last expedition and that is why I am here.  In light of the sound and worthy preparations you are making I wish to make an additional request."  

Father Steele pauses, and then turns away as he examines some of the articles adorning the mess hall, and continues:  "I request permission to bring 3 or 4 guard dogs along with us on the expedition.  I will personally purchase and pay for the training of these animals myself.  There is adequate time for them to be trained and to be familiarized with the crew and party.  These dogs will be attack dogs, specifically trained to guard our party, supplies, and the other sleigh dogs.  I will take full responsibility for there actions and upkeep.  But the church feels that this is a necessary inconvience.


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## KitanaVorr (Jul 24, 2003)

Roxie begins to explore the ship on her way to Mr. Sykes, sniffing at this, sighing at that and squeezing a few biceps here and there.  "Well...I think I have time to spruce this place up!" she tells Tony with a wink as her mind whirled with the possibilties.  "We can make a very nice game room, a gorgeous bar, all the lovely necessities of home right here!"


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## zombiedude (Jul 24, 2003)

*Looks at Tony*

"I hope she isn't planning on making you haul a complete bar along on the tundra."

*Sizes the ship up*

"She'll do, looks like a fine vessell.  Can't say some of us are going to be happy with the cramped quarters though."


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## Byrons_Ghost (Jul 26, 2003)

Richard Lawton comes up to the edge of the pier, grimaces at the sign, and tosses his cigarette into the water.

_Late again, he thinks as he enters. I knew I should've gone home after the party last night. Last time I ride with strangers to a cocktail breakfast..._

Still slightly addled, he winces at the smell of the cargo shed. _And down in New Jersey of all places! Hopefully no one recognized me..._

Slowly climbing the gangplank, Richard follows the sailor's directions to the mess. Entering, he nods woozily at Moore, grabs a cup of coffee, and immediately sits down to nurse his hangover.


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## Fanog (Jul 27, 2003)

_Huh, what... This is it?!_, is pretty much Antonie's first reaction as he spots the ship and its shabby environs. _Well, looks aren't all. Let's see what it's like inside._

After greeting Moore, Antonie makes for the table, grabbing himself a generous cup of coffee and two sandwiches. Responding to Rayburn's comment, the big man just shrugs. He has his mouth full and uses it as a good excuse to leave it at that.

He noticing the silent figure of Lawton and recognizes him from the earlier meeting in the hotel, even though he's not too sure of who the fellow is again. "He, are you doing okay? Not getting sea sick already, are you... More coffee?"

Before he has the chance to make good his offer, Roxie has taken off and Antonie follows her out of the mess hall, still carrying a cup of coffee and a sandwich. "Well, from the sight of things it seems like they're not teaming with money for decoration. I'd start small..." Antonie can't help nmaking comment like these, even though he knows full well that nothing is ever done _small_ around Roxie. To cover up, he takes a full bite of his sandwich. _A man has to do something when he can't smoke..._


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## Toric_Arthendain (Jul 29, 2003)

_September 1st, 1933_ 
_2:30PM_ 
_SS Gabrielle, Pier 74_ 

Moore appears distracted as Father Steele makes his request and actually has to have the request repeated.  He rubs his chin in thought and then answers.  "Bringing a few extra dogs along shouldn't pose a problem but they will have to remain in the hold caged up with the rest of the dogs.  We can't have dogs running around the ship during the voyage and I'm certain that the Captain and crew wouldn't allow it.  But they can be kept in the hold with the other dogs and cared for there.  Bear in mind though that we are going to Antarctica and there are few dogs on the planet that can handle the extreme weather there.  Best choose the animals carefully if you intend to follow through with this plan."

That said, Moore returns his attention to his clipboard and continues greeting arriving members of the expedition.

Once everyone has gotten something to eat and drink, each member of the expedition is then taken through the same routine:  each is fitted for clothing, individual photos are taken, and each receives a rather thorough medical and dental examination.  This process takes up the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening.

Peter Sykes is in the crew's lounge, along with a large number of chests, racks and open boxes.  He is one of the expedition's polar survival experts and has been given the job of measuring the explorers for their cold weather clothing.  He is a quick, competent man in his thirties with an instinct for diplomacy.  He is Canadian, a rugged adventurer of average height, with long limbs and a narrow, wide-mouthed face and black hair.  One by one, he measures each arriving member of the expedition: height, weight, waist, chest, collar, inseam, shoe size, hat size, glove size, and anything else he feels is appropriate.  Ladies in the party (Roxie! ) who object to this treatment receive only a small smile and a sigh from Sykes, who in fact is quite professional.  "You'll want this done right, miss.  It'll save your life, it will."

After measurements are taken and written into a small book, Sykes gives each person a quick instruction on the use of each of the many pieces of clothing (liners, boots, gloves, trousers, parka, hoods and overalls-more than fifteen pounds of clothing in all) and has them try on some for size while he begins measuring the next person in line.  "Another day or two," adds Sykes, "and we'll have a kit for each of you.  The ski shoes and gloves haven't arrived yet, but they should be here by the end of the week."

Once the fitting is completed, each person must then meet with Dr. Greene, the expedition's physician.  Greene is in his late twenties and is lean, youthful, and has the natural grace of a dancer.  He performs a modest physical examination and questions each person at length about his or her medical history.  If anyone has conditions of obvious symptoms that require attention, he schedules them for a complete examination within the following three days.

Next up is the expedition photographer for a series of publicity pictures.  Each person is photographed in street clothes and in cold-weather gear, and asked to pose here and there among the tools, charts and instruments.

Then it is off the ship and downtown for a dental examination.  By the time each person has finished with the photographer, Moore has arranged an office visit with a dentist in the midtown area.  The meeting with the dentist is a typical cleaning and inspection.  Moore has already made arrangements for payment in the event of a need for fillings or extractions before the ship sets sail.  If these are required, they will be seen to in the next few days.

After investigators finish with the dentist, the rest of the evening and night are the theirs to enjoy on their own.  They are reminded by notes in their rooms to be in the Amherst Hotel Rose Room at 8:00AM for the first official expedition meeting.


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## DallasPA (Jul 29, 2003)

September 1st, 1933 
2:30PM 
SS Gabrielle, Pier 74 



Father Steele responds, 

"Professor Moore, having the dogs caged in the hold with the others will be fine.  I also have considered the weather conditions and that is why I have chosen 4 rough haired chinese chows as the breed of choice.  They were used as guard and sled dogs in China.  I will immediately secure the animals and have them transported to an adequate training facility after our meetings tomorrow.  I do appreciate this greatly."


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## DallasPA (Aug 1, 2003)

September 1st, 1933 
2:30PM 
SS Gabrielle, Pier 74 

After a few minutes the Father returns and replies, " Professor Moore something just struck me.   I was wondering if any strange artifacts were retrieved by the last expedition.  Any writings, hieroglpyhs, jewelry, devices, or containers.  To me this seems plausible sense the last party apparently uncovered some ancient culture of some type.  And if some items were retrieved where are they being kept."


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## Fanog (Aug 2, 2003)

_September 1st, 1933 
Evening
Amherst Hotel_

Antonie goes through all the examinations without much enthousiasm. He feels a bit awkward at the photo shoot, unaccustomed to being 'in the spotlight'. The physical examination also makes him sweat some, unsure of the state of his physical health and stamina. He grits his teeth and hopes for the best. Despite his age and concerns, Dr. Green lets him off without much comment.

The end of the day finds Antonie in the hotel bar, enjoying some time away from all of the hustle of the expedition. As he takes a drink and reads the paper, Antonie wonders if Rayburn would meet him for some conversation. _He did prove quite a nice fellow, back at the Bluenote_, Antonie muses.


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## zombiedude (Aug 4, 2003)

Rubbing his eyes as he enters the bar, Rayburn felt for his cigarettes, and noted with some dispair that he had smoked the last of his coffin nails.  He stifled a yawn, and glanced about the room, his eyes settling on a familiar face.

"Tony, old man, can you spare a fellow explorer a smoke and a light?  I'm afraid that in all the confusion of the last few days I neglected to properly stock up, and now I find myself in the predicament of badly needing a smoke and not having a fag handy."

    He looks at the bartender, "Two of whatever he's drinking, my good fellow, and a book of matches."

He looks at Antonie, "You don't mind if I join you, do you?  I find myself in the crux of having some sleep, and just beginning to grow tired.  I need a smoke, and some conversation, some mental stimulation to keep me on an even keel."


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## Toric_Arthendain (Sep 4, 2003)

OOC:  I'd like to get this game going again but we seem to have lost most of the players.  I am willing to keep it going and even recruit new players.  Who is left of the original group that would like to continue?  Once I know who wants to keep going, I'll open a recruitment thread to get enough new players to fill the open spots.

Toric


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## zombiedude (Sep 4, 2003)

Toric_Arthendain said:
			
		

> OOC:  I'd like to get this game going again but we seem to have lost most of the players.  I am willing to keep it going and even recruit new players.  Who is left of the original group that would like to continue?  Once I know who wants to keep going, I'll open a recruitment thread to get enough new players to fill the open spots.
> 
> Toric






Rayburn still here, ready to go.


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## Fanog (Sep 4, 2003)

Unfortunately, I think that I have to drop. 

I think I held up the game, and CoC just may not be my style. Posting might become a chore, so I'd rather stop now. I am sorry to do this, good luck in finding new player and running the rest of the game.

Fanog


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## Toric_Arthendain (Sep 5, 2003)

OOC:
Sorry to see you go, Fanog, but I understand.

Good to see you still with us, zombiedude.  

Hopefully DallasPA is still around and wanting to play.  If so, I'll try to recruit three or four more players and then get the game going again.

Toric


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