IC: CH2 - LONDON - (Andrei, Maksim & Nethaniel)

[Raiko]

[OOC: Laraqua, Maks can 'walk into' the other thread immediately if you like, or you can take your time. As I said they're far enough ahead in game time to account for any travel time]

The two porters escort Maksim out of the front doors of the hotel.

Once they have left the room the hotel manager looks back at Andrei, "I'm sorry about that unpleasantness sir, please enjoy your stay at The Euston."

His expression becomes stern again, "I trust that you will take care to avoid such incidents recurring?"

[coffee demon]

Andrei's expression is equally stern.

"I believe it is YOUR responsibility to prevent such incidents from recurring! Believe me, if something similar happens again, you'll be the first to know!"

Andrei shuts the door firmly and locks it immediately, leaving every impression that he is finished with socializing.

He slumps down on the bed and rubs his eyes, sighing loudly. After a few minutes, he walks to the window and peers cautiously down at the street, watching for anyone loitering around and looking up at him. Then he closes the curtains and moves to his trunk.

He unpacks his officer's revolver and checks it's mechanisms.

Not bad. I should buy some gun oil, if I can find it anywhere. I'll be damned if someone is going to catch me. Maks can think what he wishes.

He loads the pistol, checks the safety, and buries it in his trusty satchel. He doublechecks his satchel to ensure that all his most important items are contained within - the "clues", his financial records, and his identification.

He locks his trunk, rests for a few more minutes, and leaves the hotel.

[OC: I previously mentioned that the pistol was packed in the trunk, with 6-8 bullets packed elsewhere in the trunk.]

[coffee demon]

...Andrei sneaks out the back door of the Hotel, looking both ways, and watching behind himself to ensure he's not being followed. His satchel is hung over his shoulder, and his arm is pressed tightly against the bag. He's been in London before, on his way to America, but it doesn't make him any more comfortable. The dense crowds and tight streets unnerve him.

...After finding the address to the bookstore, Andrei asks directions, then walks directly to the nearest tube Station. He asks directions again, and takes the train in the direction of Leicester Square Station, the closest station to Nathaniel's bookstore in Covert Garden.

The entire time, he is clutching his satchel closely and watching for people following him. He occasionally takes less-used streets, to see if he can single out pursuers. He will push quickly through large crowds, hoping to evade anyone in the bustle. Andrei gets caught up in the feeling that he's being followed - twice, he starts to really panic, and breaks into a jog, then hides in a shop. Another time, he pushes so forcefully through a crowd that he actually knocks someone over.

Andrei will watch the bookstore for twenty minutes from afar, from different angles, to see if anyone else is scouting the store. Then he'll walk past the store twice, glancing inside, before he enters.

[Raiko]

Dodgy Pages Bookstore - 14 Cecil Court, Covent Garden, London
3:05pm - Wednesday 28th January, 1925

"Dodgy Pages - Occult Literature and Book store - Est. 1894", the hording above the bookstore is black, with the lettering painted in gold.

Andrei waits across from Nethaniel Moore's bookstore for thirty minutes, watching for anything unusual, but succeeds only in feeling conspicuous. He enters other bookshops across the street from Nethaniel's shop, but even so Cecil Court with it's collection of antique bookshops is so peaceful, so far removed from the bustling high-streets that surround it, that the tall Russian cannot help feeling that he stands out like a sore thumb. Eventually, having seen only a single elderly lady and a couple of tourists leave Dodgy Pages, and nobody else entering since, Andrei crosses Cecil Court and walks inside.

The inside of the store is crammed with shelves and trolleys piled high with occult literature from around the world, the air of the shop has that peculiar smell that only very old books have. There appear to be smaller sections of the shop given over to romantic novels and science-fiction, but it is clear where Dodgy Pages' speciality lies.

Behind the counter sits a middle aged man, certainly not old enough to have been the shop's proprietor in 1894, he sips from a steaming cup of tea.


[ooc: There are lots of images of the shops on Cecil Court on this website. Number 14 no longer exists on it's own, it's part of a larger store (12/14) which has only existed since the 90s. All of the shops still have their original storefronts, and they're all very similar in appearance.]

[coffee demon]

Andrei steps quickly into the store and walks directly to its proprietor.

"Excuse me - are you Nathaniel Moore?"

Andrei speaks very good upper-class english, with a slight Eastern European inflection. His huge stature, blonde hair, and bright blue eyes place him as being Ukranian, Russian, or Polish.

He's not a pretty man. His beady, piercing eyes are a little too close together, a little too small. There is a flat expression on his face. His skin is pale, like he hasn't seen a lot of sunlight recently. One would expect this sort of man to be a sailor or a longshoreman, but he's wearing an expensive, American-looking hat and jacket. His trousers and shirt are clean and pressed.

His leather shoulderbag is of high-quality, but has been well used. It's hanging open - the inside is stuffed with sheafs of papers and small books. Andrei's hand rests lightly inside the satchel, on top of the papers, as though he takes comfort in touching them.

[DSIGFUSS]

Nethaniel glances over Andrei with a polite grin. Having just recently completed his study on modern Satanic rituals in present day England, Nethaniel was wary about strangers that knew him by name. He'd seen some bizarre folks that did even more bizarre things to themsleves and to others. All in the name of some sadomasichistic fantasy. Well documented and intensely dark fantasy, but fantasy nonetheless.

Who's asking guv?

[coffee demon]

"A friend of Mr. Elias - Jackson Elias..."

Andrei runs his hand through his hair impatiently, and glances at the front door.

"This is important... listen, did we send you a telegram? Do you mind if I close your door?"

The barrel-chested Russian looks panicky. Without waiting for an answer, he walks to the front door and glances up and down the street, then across at the facing storefronts, looking for any sign that they're being watched, or followed.

"Did you recieve a telegram? You're him, aren't you? Mr. Moore?"

There's a quiet click, as Andrei deadbolts the front door, locking them in.

[DSIGFUSS]

Nethaniel remains calm as Andrei locks his front door. He reaches under his desk and pulls out an old English crossbow. He pulls back the string and points it at Andrei.



It seems you found me haven't you? So by all means...... friend of Mr. Elias, you can lock me shop..... As long as you fancy a quarrel in your noggin if'n you go off and take a turn for the worse.
Strange folk about....

Nethaniel steps out from behind his counter, keeping a close eye on Andrei.

You were on about a telegram then there guv?

[coffee demon]

Andrei freezes in his tracks as he turns back towards the man and sees the crossbow. He raises his hands slowly.

"I-I assure you... you have no reason to worry about me. I... we sent you a telegram to warn you - Jackson Elias has been murdered, in New York, two weeks ago. They're killing everyone... everyone who has spoken with him. They tried to kill me. I'm here to warn you. Please, put the weapon down, we're both in danger..."

He glances back out the glazed entrance again.

"..We're not safe here. Please. I-I'm going to step away from the door here, okay? Just in case. They have guns, at least in New York they did..."

Andrei gingerly steps further into the store, away from the windows at the front of the shop. He takes care not to move suddenly and startle the man. His hands are raised up near his shoulder.

[DSIGFUSS]

Murdered... No! By Whom? Oh.... Poor Jackson.....

Nethaniel drops his head and mourns silently for his friend. He quickly snaps back to the present and the stranger in his shop. He points his crossbow at Andrei's bag and shouts in a much more hostile tone.

What's in the bag! Go on then... open it. If everything is bright as brisket... I'll put down me quarrels.

[coffee demon]

Andrei sets down the bag slowly and crouches down next to it, keeping himself exposed so Moore doesn't think he's hiding anything.

He pries open the bag and hesitates for a moment, then starts removing handfuls of papers, setting them on the floor next to him. It seems like his entire life is stored in the bag - first he extracts a thick stack of bank ledgers and manila envelopes. Then a sheaf of letters written on all sorts of different paper, in different styles of penmanship. Then a passport and other legal-looking documents.

Andrei hesitates again and glances around, swallowing hard. He slowly removes a stack of dog-eared notebooks and places them on the floor. It looks like he's stalling for time.

He leans back onto the balls of his feet and swallows again, looking up at Nathaniel like a guilty child. Papers are spread all over the floor.

"There's a gun in here. It's mine. I snuck it into the country."

[DSIGFUSS]

Nethaniel watches Andrei root through the papers and smiles at the man's disorganized hand bag.

You could use a lady friend to help you with all that clutter there mate.

His expression changes when Andrei says the word gun.

Oh bloody hell! Here we go!

Well isn't that just keen. You use that to kill Jackson? Put it on the floor and kick it to me.

Nethaniel jerks his crossbow again to remind Andrei he has it.

Aaa! .......slowly!

[coffee demon]

Andrei hesitates again. He looks at the floor for a long moment, then back up at Moore.

Still crouching, he shakes his head slightly. His face has hardened somewhat.

"I'm not giving away my gun."

"Are you one of them? If you are, kill me now. Come on, then."

Andrei is wearing a mask of pride, defiance and challenge - but his voice sounds weak and defeated.

[DSIGFUSS]

Nethaniel adjusts his glasses as the swet from his nose prooves too slippery a surface for them to cling to.

One of them? You are a dodgy one aren't you? This is my shop have you. Remember chap, you came to me.

Nethaniel shakes his head and lossens his trigger finger on his crossbow.

This man has the look of a caged animal. Sad and dangerous. Be careful Dodger!

Fine then.... friend of Jackson Elias... Drop the bag and tell me just what it is you're playing at.

[coffee demon]

[OC Andrei is crouched on the floor. The bag is not in his hands - it's a large satchel, sitting upright and standing in front of him.]

Andrei stares at Moore again for a moment, then slowly picks up his stack of notebooks. He drops them carefully back into the bag, obviously covering the gun. It's obvious that the load of paperwork would make it hard to quickly retrieve the gun.

As he speaks, he slowly re-packs his satchel, further burying the weapon.

"He was gutted, in a hotel room, on his first night in New York. His intestines were spread all over the place. They carved a mark on him. It's called the Cult of the Bloody Tongue.

Then they killed his publisher in New York. They tried for us numerous times. They..." he pauses for second, scanning the bookshelves, then looking at Moore. "...they can follow you in your dreams, they put someone in a coma. We all dreamt it, then ran upstairs, and saw it was true. Our friend was good as dead. We all dreamt it, too, you see? Do you believe in these kinds of things?"

Andrei sounds like he is looking for support from a common believer.

[DSIGFUSS]

I disproove these kinds of things Mr..... I'm sorry.... I didn't catch your name?

Nethaniel puts the crossbow gently onto his counter. He stares at Andrei as a parent would a child who just introduced him to his imaginary friend Dingledorf.

[coffee demon]

"Zaitsov. Andrei."

He stands slowly. His bag is still resting at his feet.

"Well. They're going to come for you. You've been warned. I'd recommend you get home as soon as possible, take what you need, and never return. Perhaps I should go with you, just in case - they were waiting for me in my apartment, you know. With machetes, wearing tribal African masks. I haven't been back since. You'd better hope they don't know you well enough to find you in your dreams."

Andrei realizes this might sound like gibberish, but he knows what's real. And, unfortunately, reality is nothing like this poor Englishman believes it to be. It's disappointing. Andrei was hoping to find a kindred spirit, someone he could finally talk to about all these things.

"I want to ask you some questions about Mr. Elias, but we should talk somewhere safer. Do you have a back door? I'm fairly certain we're being watched."

[DSIGFUSS]

In my dreams? This chap's off his bloody bird!

I'm sorry Mr. Zaitsov, but I haven't seen poor Jackson in ages. We were close but his research and my own have kept us apart for the greater part of this decade. I will miss him terribly.

Nethaniel walks into the back room and puts a kettle on a hotplate. He comes back with a stack of index cards.

The Cult of the Bloody Tongue. Hmm they aren't affilated with the Brazilian Snake Cults are they? Of coarse not. Well let's see....

Nethaniel begins to walk around his impressive Occult section running his fingers down the spine of several titles.

Bloody..... Bloody..... Bloody..... Oh Bloody hell.. where would I have filed that bugger.

I did keep up to date on Jackson's research Mr. Zaitsov. We worked on Sons of Death together in India. Oh the stories I could tell you lad. Just try and find a snort of good ole Irish Whiskey in that god forsaken desert. Jackson always did have a thing for death cults though. He was right silly for em. He sent me an autographed copy of every book he had published.

Nethaniel stops searching his stacks and sighs....

A shame... he was such a brilliant man. Would you like some tea?

[coffee demon]

Andrei follows Moore into the back room. He's half-listening to what the englishman is saying, but is obviously not into a relaxing cup of tea.

"I'm absolutely serious. We can't stay here. We'll talk elsewhere."

He shuts the back door, so they're both in the back room, and not visible through the front windows.


[OC: DSIGFUSS - is there another exit to the bookstore?]

[Raiko]

[OOC: Yes there is a back way out of the shop. Please don't leave at the moment though, I think Nethaniel might have more to say inside the shop anyway, but if not then you can say that you're opening the back door, but you can't actually leave until I've posted]