Any Given Sunday (IC Day 2)

[Taavi]

Shops are closed on Sundays, but when "the game's afoot" it's not uncommon to find Mr Grant and co. beavering away behind closed doors, and with only two days until the Irving is auctioned off, the game is certainly afoot.

Mrs Grant, having attended church with the moral enthusiasm that commonly overtakes showgirls once entered into matrimony, has gone to her sister's for Sunday roast, and left a plate of sandwiches to sustain Grant in his labours. As the morning drifts into midday, the staff and associates drift into the shop to share their gathered intelligence.

[Quinch]

Luke wanders in to the shop late in the morning. He immediately notices the sandwiches and realises he hasn't eaten since the previous evening. With a vague salute in the direction of wherever Mrs Grant might be, Luke helps himself to Grant's lunch.

He's acutely aware that when everyone left on their intelligence gathering missions he stayed behind to liberate the personal fortune of the punters, so he sits back and waits for everyone else to turn up and shed some light on the upcoming auction and the Contessa's demands.

[WinstonP]

Rev. Poole wanders by the shop after morning services, glances in the window, and, not seeing Harwood (or anyone in the front room), continues on his way to a bakery he occasionally frequents, where he purchases a day-old loaf of bread. He splits it between himself and the pigeons at Soho Square (his pieces liberally treated with a half-jar of strawberry jam procured from a meeting of Boer War widows in a fine house on Tottenham Court Road the week previous, as well as a full Dewar flask of Orange Pekoe. After a few moments passed in reading, he wanders back towards the shop looking for Harwood.

[Taavi]

The front door is closed, but not locked, and those inside see a shadow on the frosted glass, and hear a rattling as if someone was fumbling with the doorknob. Abruptly, as if hit by a shoulder or a strong gust of wind, the door bangs open. Framed in it is the form of Wellington the book scout, who staggers into the shop*. He looks in a bad way - his face is drawn and white as a sheet beneath his hat, and he clutches his stomach with one hand like someone who's been gut-shot. He raises the other gloved hand and points at the counter. "Book", he moans loudly. "Book."

* Oddly, his booted feet make little if any sound on the floor.

[Quinch]

Luke jumps up from his sandwiches with a start. He rushes over to Wellington, shouting "Get some bandages" at no-one in particular.

Once at the door, he tries to usher the man over to a chair, so he can have a look at the wound. If there is one.

"What book?" he asks, out of habit. "Are you okay?"

[Bookman]

Out in the back room Harwood leaps up from his seat and rushes downstairs to grab bandages. He heads back up to the shop and hands them over to Carse.

What the Hell is going on? Can you find the wound?

[WinstonP]

Rev. Poole, seconds later, opens the door to the shop, sees the commotion, and stands in the doorway agog.

[AndrewTBP]

Grant looks up from Irving’s Legend of the Arab Astronomer. “Wellington! What’s the problem? Have you drunk something you shouldn't have again?” Quickly pouring a mug of hot, sweet tea, Grant brings it to the stricken man. “The Major will be upset if you’ve done yourself a mischief.”

[Taavi]

Those rushing to Wellington's aid are confounded when he suddenly spins out of Luke's reach - not like a man skilfully dodging an opponent, but like a leaf tossed aside by the wind of Luke's passage. He spins violently, his finger pointing to all corners of the shop like a compass in an electrical storm. His face is slack with extremity of fear. "Bottle" he gasps. "Bottle!"

Abruptly, Wellington stops spinning and falls to the ground in a crumpled heap.

Luke is close enough to hear him whisper one more thing over the THUMP of impact - perhaps it was "Set"? or "Seat"?

[AndrewTBP]

“Wellington!” cries Grant, kneeling next to the fallen man and grasping his hand.

OOC,Grant has First Aid, but not Medicine, so I think he can check for signs of life.

[Taavi]

“Wellington!” cries Grant, kneeling next to the fallen man and grasping his hand.

There is no hand to grasp.

There's just a crumpled heap of old clothes.

Four point Stability test for everyone! And a little mood music...

[Bookman]

Harwoodvisibly blanches for a moment. He crosses himself and steps forward, his lips moving silently. He reaches forward and his hand runs across the pile of clothes. After a brief moment he leaps to the door, past the startled Reverend and looks each way up and down the street. He turns back into the shop, his hands fumbling with his tobacco, and says, with a forced smile,

Well, I've seen a few good quick change acts in my time, but given that there is no naked Wellington strolling down the Charing Cross Road...what the Hell just happened.

OOC,Dah, IC is still screwing with my continual attempts to join up with their merry band. I think I managed to roll this as a guest, let me know if this goes wrong somewhere and I will try again. (Adding 1 point) http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/search/1025318/ I should really start trusting my stability apparently.

[Taavi]

Harwood visibly blanches for a moment. He crosses himself and steps forward, his lips moving silently. He reaches forward and his hand runs across the pile of clothes.

Inside Wellington's old stained shirt, Harwood's hand encounters a book-shaped lump. He leaves it be for the moment while he checks outside the door. There is also a strong smell of gin when the clothes are disturbed.

[Bookman]

Maybe this will tell us?

Harwood steps quickly to the pile of clothes. He hesitates briefly before feeling for the lump. He pulls it out.

Now what have we here?

[WinstonP]

(FYI - Invisible Castle's registration email went directly to my spam folder. You might want to look there.)

Stability Test,Rev. Poole chooses not to spend any points... and rolls a 2. [url]http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3521977/[/url] So my stability is now a 6?

The Rev. Poole stands stock-still, his eyes slowly widening. Eventually his satchel slips from his shoulder spilling papers, packets of biscuits, and few worn pence onto the floor. Under his breath he appears to be saying "Jesus" over and over again.

[AndrewTBP]

Grant’s surprised contemplation of the empty clothes is ended by the sound of Poole’s distress. He gets to his feet and assists Poole to a chair, giving him the mug of hot, sweet tea meant for Wellington. “Here, Reverend Poole. I think you need this. Both hands, mind now.”

Stability test,Let the dice fall where they may. No point spend. [url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3520210/]Stability test (1d6=5)[/url] Grant keeps his cool this time.

[andyw666]

Jory:

Jory wanders up the street, munching on a vendor bought hot muffin and humming to himself ("Jerusalem" if anyone cares). He slows as he approaches the shop.

"Morning chaps, trust everyone had a pleasant eve? Now what's happened to this bod?"

Stability Roll,Jory spends a point of stability for a 1d6+1 and rolls a 4. Safe for now... http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3522387/

[Taavi]

Harwood steps quickly to the pile of clothes. He hesitates briefly before feeling for the lump. He pulls it out.
Now what have we here?

The book-shaped lump is indeed a book. A quite rare and beautiful book, in fact. It is Volume 4 of the subscriber-only 1885 first printing of Richard Burton's The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, and looks to be in excellent condition. Furthermore, it is signed. The frontispiece says "To J.C. - from one Odd Volume to Another - Richard Burton".

Leafing through it, Harwood sees marginal notes on a few stories, particularly The City of Labtayt and The City of Many-Columned Iram and Abdullah Son of Abi Kalabah, in a hand that looks vaguely familiar...

[Quinch]

Luke goes as white as a sheet at the sight of Harwood poking about where Wellington's body should be. He feels the recently consumed sandwiches attempting a speedy exit from his stomach and puts his hand over his mouth.

"Keep it together, Luke," he mutters to himself.

Colour returns to his face as he regains his composure. Or at least, most of his composure.

"Anyone recognise that writing. Something about it seems familiar."

OOC,[url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3523189/]Stability roll for Wellington's disappearance (1d6=4)[/url]

[andyw666]

Jory:

Jory's eyes light up, despite the bizarre disaster.

"I say, what a coincidence! You'll all know chaps that old Burton published Indraji's definitive translation of The Kama Sutra? It's most excellent. Errr, I believe... What?"

Jory trails off and focuses on finishing his muffin with the air of a schoolboy trying to look innocent.

"Of course, this looks a much more worthy and intellectual tome. Bet Burton would have been good for a few laughs at a party though."

Jory then pulls a pencil out of his pocket and uses it to poke through the rest of Wellington's clothes, looking to see if anything else is in them.