Play@YSDC

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. While the bar stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), a piano sits at the other end alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar. The pianist isn't here yet but doubtless will arrive soon.

Wolfgang enters the Smoking Car accompanied by Elena and moves over to the bar, giving the bar tender and the other man a friendly nod. When he hears the whispered German, he smiles and greets the man politely.

German,[color=#0000BF]A very good evening to you. I hope I am not interrupting anything, but it is always nice to hear strangers speak German.[/color]

He then looks to the bartender and orders a Dry Martini in broken French, turning to Elena to take her order.

German,"No, you're not interrupting. Good evening, my name is Herr Johannes Sprech. Unfortunately I'll soon need to cut this conversation short so I can attend the Second Service. If you haven't yet eaten, I'd be happy to have the company."

German,"Can I serve you anything, sir? Madam?"

"Cognac, please," says Elena to the bartender.

German,[color=#0000BF]We already ate, but I can recommend the steak, it is quite excellent. But perhaps after dinner, we might share a drink?[/color]

Looking at the waiter, he says:

German,[color=#0000BF]"A cognac for the lady and a dry Martini for myself, if you please."[/color]

Looking around the room, he smiles at Elena.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]It would appear we are a little early. I don't suppose you play the piano, Elena?[/color]

German,"Thank you for the recommendation. Of course we shall have a drink later on."

The gentleman leaves the compartment in the direction of the Dining Car.
The bartender expertly serves the two drinks.

"Thank you," says Elena to the bartender. She picks up a drink and takes a sip before turning to Wolfgang, smiling back.

Russian,[color=darkred]"I'm afraid I don't,"[/color] says [b]Elena[/b]. [color=darkred]"Pianos aren't exactly affordable. I don't speak German either. Who was that fellow, and what was that about?"[/color]

The Smoking Car is filling up with individuals from the Dining Car. About half of their dining companions are now in this car. The two families are in discussion as to how long the children may remain awake while Magdelena waits furtively to one side, eagerly watching the conversation yet remaining separate from it as an unescorted child. The mediteranean couple approach the bar. Even those who don't speak Italian can tell that he's ordered bourbon while she has ordered gin, judging by the bottles brought down by the bartender. The honeymooning couple naturally order champagne. Most of the others in the dining car seem content to keep to themselves.
Farooqi Al-Rassam heads to the bar and orders a coke. He looks curiously at the two Russians and gives them a nod. "Good evening. Any idea where the promised pianist has gotten to?"

"Good evening," Elena says with a shrug. "I've no idea where the piano player is." She extends her hand. "Elena Orloff. Pleased to meet you."

"Farooqi Al-Rassam," says the gentleman, accepting her hand. "Hmm, it is unlike the Orient Express to have tardy entertainment. It seems that a number of things haven't gone to plan." He smiles grimly. "Although I'm sure they will soon be at the top of their form once more."

Russian,[color=#0000BF]His name is [b]Johannes Sprech[/b], he asked if we had already dined and invited us to do so if we hadn't.[/color]

Wolfgang smiles at Farooqi and extends his hand, not sure what that comment was about and introduces himself in his broken English.

English roll,[dice]0[/dice]

Wolfgang Ritter, pleasure for meeting.

Elena nods in thanks to Wolfgang. "Yes, the train was late arriving at the platform too," she says to Farooqi. "It did depart on time, however. Probably just nerves because of the current situation. What other things have gone wrong tonight?"

Farooqi Al-Rassam smiles. "Pleased to meet you Herr Ritter. Or is it comrade? Your accent sounds unmistakably German to my ear and yet you were speaking a slavic tongue a moment ago." The smile doesn't much touch his eyes as he regards Ritter. "And as for your question as to problems, well, the Orient Express arrived shortly before its departure time and that is quite uncommon. It is said to be due to some issue with whoever owns the Private Car at the rear of the train but I can hardly imagine what such a setback might involve. It is quite uncommon for the First and Second Dining Service to mingle classes even if it would ensure quite a quiet and cozy dinner for the first class. That can't have pleased some people. Considering the tensions in Europe there may also be trouble at the borders though we haven't reached that point yet. I simply hope that the rather rocky beginning doesn't progress into more awkward complications later on." His gaze falls on Ritter as he mentions 'tensions in Europe' and though his expression remains neutral he does give the distinct impression that he might be hoping to read Ritter's reaction to it.

Wolfgang Ritter flashed his teeth at Farooqi al-Rassam for a moment, holding the middle between a grin and a scowl.

"Wolfgang, pleasing you. We fought for not have to saying mister or Herr. All men are equal."

He takes a drink from his Dry Martini and takes a deep breath, not hiding his lack of enthusiasm at the prospect, nor his mounting disdain.

"No doubting, zese are many great problems, trains not arriving before time and missing pianists, not mentioning zat ze continent vill be in anozer war. No counting ze lives zat vill be lost, but at least ve got ze steak on time, no?"

Farooqi Al-Rassam quirks an eyebrow. "I'm rather not sure what you mean but then I never participated in the last Great War. What did it have to do with references to herr? Is there a different honorific I should be using? I'm dreadfully sorry but I thought that herr was still in vogue in Germany." It's hard to be sure whether he's genuinely confused or simply trying to goad Ritter in a politely irritating manner. Perhaps a little bit of both?

Wolfgang Ritter is unsure whether he likes this man or whether he wants to slowly strangle the life out of him. For now, he tries to maintain a modicum of civility and answers in his strained, heavily-accented English.

"Ze Great War...Wars are not great, I not can understand why calling it so. And I not knowing vat in Germany is ...uhm.."

He seems to hesitate a moment, looking for the word.

"En vogue, you saying? I have not been zere for many ze years. I vas fighting ze fascists in Spanish War."

Though he strains to maintain a polite tone, the word "fascists" is almost spat out.

"Ve fighting zere for the freedom and equali..equalne..equality of men."

He turns his gaze to Elena and gives her a genuine smile and says with a kinder voice:

"and vomen."

Farooqi Al-Rassam's smile touches his eyes at least. "I have to say that I'm not partial to communism myself, especially in light of Russia's friendship with the Nazis, but at least you fought against fascism. A mode of government designed to put power and focus on the military is never practicable nor beneficial to its citizens. While I have heard too many cruelties of Stalinist communism to condone it, I have read Karl Marx and understand the positivism of some of his theories. I know a few socialists, not communists, mind you, and it is difficult to argue against a dissemination of financial resources from the rich to the needy. If anything I believe the Great Depression really helped open my eyes to that. The situation in which the poorest citizens of the world live is quite deplorable. However, I believe you misunderstand my concern with the Orient Express' behaviour."

"It isn't that the issues themselves are worrying. I have been on many trains who have had more problematic delays. Oh no, it is more that certain of these issues are simply not done when it comes to the Orient Express. Quite out of character. Which means there must have been some pressured placed from on high."

"Or perhaps I am merely overthinking it and the Orient Express' policy has changed."

"Well spoken," says Elena, smiling back at Wolfgang before turning back to regard Farooqi. "Perhaps it all does have to do with the mysterious passenger who rented the private car, then. Whoever it is must be extravagantly wealthy, and no doubt influential. I wonder who this person could be."

Wolfgang's eyes narrow as he tries to make out the details of what Farooqi is saying. He curses his lack of fluency in English, but tries to hide it from the company, instead taking Elena's statement as a cue to move on.

"No doubting, ve vill find out who ze mystery guest is before too long time has passing. Zis is a small train."

He shakes his head as he looks at the empty piano and smiles, and despite himself he returns to the previous conversation.

"Zis next var vill be against fascismus again. But ze bet is higher. And ze antagonist is better prepared. Hitler's team has doing training in Spain. Zey are fresh and learning from ze var zere. Ze rest of Europe is not. It vill be...bloody."

OOC:,I'm going to make an extra English roll for Wolfgang, although he is more familiar with academic English, the finer nuances of Farooqi's monologue might get lost. [dice]0[/dice]

Elena has gotten a good read on Farooqi from her observations of him. "Yes, it will be bloody indeed," she says. "Worse than the last war, perhaps. But the fascists will lose in the end, I'm sure of it. They are well trained, equipped, and prepared, but there are not as many of them, nor can they manufacture war materiel as quickly as their enemies. If they do not win quickly, they will be stuck in another long slog. That will be their undoing, as it was for the Central Powers last time."

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. While the bar stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), a piano sits at the other end alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar.

The pianist arrives and, after greeting a few people crowding around the piano, sits down in preparation to play.
Farooqi Al-Rassam paused a moment as the pianist walked past. "Ah, there he is. At least that is one mystery solved. As to the war, well, he does have a highly efficient and obsessive military machine backed by every human cruelty and barbarism known to man."

Psychology roll,Farooqi is no friend to communism but he is a bitter enemy of fascism. He is the sort of man who sees a line drawn in the sand around Germany where people are either for Germany or against them. Considering the issue with the Soviet-Nazi treaty, he sees communism in a far more negative light than before. He also seems to have some personal issue against Nazi Germany, as though he were privy to some issue or consideration that most are not, and it weighs heavily on his mind.

"I'll grant him his efficient brutality," says Elena, "but this time he has bitten off more than he can chew. He believes that since Chamberlain bowed to his wishes last year, that he will do so again. In that, he is grossly mistaken. The days when he can swallow up a country without firing a shot are over. When people wake up and see the danger he poses, they will band together to oppose him. Even people who would otherwise be natural foes will set their differences aside to fight the scourge of fascism. After its defeat they'll go right back to fighting each other, of course, but for now they have a greater enemy."

The door to the communications compartment between the Dining Car and the Smoking Car opens and Amadi enters, followed by Schiller who has Cecil and Charles a step behind (in order to fit through the doorway and the corridor) who were holding onto Schiller's arms and seem to be guiding him from behind. People watch them, getting out of the aisle to help them pass, but thus far no one approaches the.

Elena takes out her cigarette holder and a cigarette, which she places inside the holder while she observes the new arrivals.

Wolfgang finishes his drink as the men file in.

Your friends having made quite ze catch. Zat man is Gerhard Schiller, I meeting him vhen I boarding ze Express. His a significant Archäologe, an... archaeologist and in service of ze Reich...I vonder vhat's wrong.

"By Jove, quite the fug in here!" Cecil frowns at the smoke and leans against the chair back to steady himself and Schiller as the train lurches. "Okay, Once more into the fray, chaps." They move on down the aisle, Cecil puts out a hand to steady himself and catches Wolfgang in the back. "I say, sorry old chap! Clumsy buffoon that I am. Would you mind leaning out of the way so we can get old Fritz by?" He winks at Elena, "So sorry to disturb your drinks, Madame, express delivery don't you know." He looks disparagingly at her cigarette and then grins at Mr. Al-Rassam.

"Of course," says Elena, stepping out of the way. She returns her cigarette, which she had not yet lit, and her holder to her purse. "I can see that cigarette smoke bothers you, so I won't light up while you're here. Elena Orloff. Pleased to meet you."

Wolfgang gives a none too friendly look, but then moves back a bit to allow passage. He knits his brows together as he looks from Schiller to the Brit,

not getting,[dice]0[/dice]

the Fritz-reference, he says:

Zat man is not called Fritz, he is Gerhard Schiller. Vat happening to him?

"Is he really?" Cecil peers at Schiller. "Well, if you say so old chap, thanks for the heads-up." He maneuvers Schiller past Wolfgang and Elena. "I fear he is rather under the weather from something he ate so we're just popping him back to his cabin." He smiles at Elena, "Lord Horfield, and likewise. Please don't put it away on my account, it rather suits you. Come along Herr Schiller, lets get you home." He smiles at Elena and nods politely to Wolfgang before nodding to Amadi to continue.

"Thank you," says Elena, smiling back and once again taking out her cigarette and holder. "What did he eat?"

Wolfgang nods as Cecil moves on, a genuine smile on his lips.

"You should ask for if zere is a doctor on ze train."

"We'll get him comfortable and then dig one out if he hasn't improved. Ta very much, coming through!" Cecil, Amadi and Mr. Beranger shepherd Schiller out to the next car.

The trio manage to shepherd Schiller into the Lounge Car.

"How very peculiar," says Elena to Wolfgang, watching Lord Horfield and the others lead Schiller away, unable to understand the man. "That's another thing that's gone wrong."

Wolfgang nods, concurring with Elena.

"Interesting character zat Lord...I am being not certain he vas speakink English."

He puts his hand on her shoulder and smiles kindly.

"I zinking ve vill be healzy, beef iz ze very good for you."

"That is true," says Elena, smiling back, "though soon it will be a luxury that many will not taste again for years - and others will never taste again." She lowers her head. "He was speaking English all right, but it's the sort of English that only the English can fully understand. Of course, he is only guessing about the cause of Herr Schiller's condition."

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. While the bar stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), a piano sits at the other end alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar. The pianist has yet to begin play..
Farooqi Al-Rassam smiles at the two of them. "If you will excuse me, I should probably get to know a few of the other passengers."

Wolfgang nods a kind goodbye to Farooqi and then smiles at Elena.

Russian,"[color=#0000BF]I for one am curious to find out more about that gentleman's dreams.[/color]"

Wolfgang indicates Roby with his glass.

Russian, "Would you do the honour of joining me, Elena, or shall we indeed take Farooqi's suggestion and meet some other people." He flashes her a smile. "I can already imagine the gossip that would circulate on this train."

"Of course, Mr. Farooqi," says Elena. "Good evening."

After he leaves, she speaks to Wolfgang.

Russian,[color=darkred]"I am also eager to meet other people,"[/color] she says, [color=darkred]"but I too am curious about [b]Mr. Roby[/b]'s dreams. Let's meet him first."[/color]

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Then I would be honoured to escort you.[/color]

Wolfgang offers Elena his arm and guides them by the bar to refresh their drinks before moving to the Robies.


Good evenink, I is Wolfgang Ritter and zis my charmink companion is Elena Orloff. May ve accompany you for a drinking?

Elena takes Wolfgang's arm and accompanies him to Roby's table. "A pleasure to meet you," she says.

"Good evening to you both," says Mr. Roby. "My name is Alexander Roby and this is my wife, Caroline Roby. Would you like a seat on the lounge? The pianist is quite good and this position is most conducive to being able to hear him just right."

"Thank you," says Elena, taking a seat and smiling. "Good evening, Mrs. Roby. I take it this is not your first trip on the Orient Express."

"A pleasure in ze meeting you.",

Wolfgang and greets Mrs Roby with a friendly nod, and then sits down as well.

"What a lovely thing to say!" exclaimed Mrs. Roby. "Do we seem well-travelled, dear?"

"You do," says Elena, "but that's not all. Your husband knows how good the pianist is and where best to sit to hear him. We've only left Paris this evening, so he hasn't performed yet on this trip. Therefore, he must know from a previous trip."

Wolfgang laughs appreciatively, hearing Elena's explication.

"You must being using caution, Elena hast ze keenest mind! You vill have no secrets remaining."

He smiles as he raises his glass in salute to the Russian woman.

"You seem to be quite the young Miss Marple," says Mrs. Roby. "My husband and I occasionally travel to visit his publisher and bookhounds in Germany and Istanbul. Of late our presses aren't so active in Germany, unfortunately, but we have a roaring trade in Istanbul in works of fiction. Have either of you been aboard this train before? And whereabouts are your destinations? You two seem very well-acquainted if you don't mind my saying so. I can only hope that you two met aboard this wonderful train."

Wolfgang concurs with a sad nod.

Indeed, ze wrong zings have being active in Germany and zey no longer love books zat do not enhance ze Führer.

A smiles passes his lips at Mrs. Roby comment.

"Ve having only meet zis evening, but ve sharing ze common destination. Ve vill be get off in Istanbul as vell. But you must telling me more about ze writings, I vas a literature professor in Munich before..before ze situation."

"I'm a writer too," says Elena, "a travel writer. The business hasn't been so good for me lately, but I expect it to pick up soon. Once the war starts, people won't be able to travel as much, but they will hunger to do so vicariously - and I will be more than happy to feed them. I am thinking about writing a book about my journeys. I wonder if your publisher would be interested. I have been on the Orient Express once before, last year."

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. While the bar stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), a piano sits at the other end alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar.
"My husband's publisher is a rather small printing press interested in a obscure collections with a rather obscure focus on strangely artistic literary works which have binary and concurrent meanings," says Mrs. Roby. "Though perhaps they might be interested in a travel guide which focuses on obscure destinations with a distinguished interest for those of a more spiritual nature."
"Forgive my wife," says Mr. Roby. "What she means is they publish collections of poetry and symbolic tales designed to inspire through the revelation between darkness and light."

"Ah," says Elena. "Well, I write strictly prose, so that wouldn't be a good fit. What books have you written, Mr. Roby?"

"Well, I have a few," says Mr. Roby. "The Royal Shade of Pale is a small book of poetry that focuses on a rather surrealist depiction of artistic nobility through the ages. The Yellow Rider & Other Tales is a collection of short fiction written by myself and a few others which my wife has collected. The City On The Lake examines how all urban cities have, at their core, shared connections in artistic interpretations that suggests a racial memory of some ancient place shared in dreams which includes some Jungian ideologies. There are more but I'd really rather not bore you. If you are interested, I could fetch for you a book to read. Would any of those suit your tastes?"

"Thank you," says Elena. "The City on the Lake sounds intriguing, especially to a traveler such as myself."

Wolfgang is concentrating intently to follow the conversation. Eventually he chimes in.

"You have saying zat you publish in German publisher? Do you writing in German as vell?"

"I do, but not on me, I'm afraid," says Mr. Roby. "I do, however, have a copy of Unaussprechlichen Kulten - also known as Nameless Cults or Unspeakable Cults or the Black Book - which I could loan you for the duration of the ride. I would need it returned before Istanbul, however.

OOC:,Can I make an occult or literature check to have even heard of that very interesting tome of which Roby speaks? If yes, here's my roll. [dice]0[/dice]

I vould be delighted, I only bringing Goethe and zough zere is no finer reading in German, a man needing a little distraction zen and now, yes?

Wolfgang takes another sip from his glass, seems to think for a moment and speaks up again.

"You must pardoning, but ve could not help but hearing about your dream. It sounded very...how shall ve saying? Particular."

"Oh, yes, I'd be very keen to hear more about your dreams too," says Elena, excitement in her voice. "My own dreams are never so interesting, when I'm lucky enough to remember them at all."

"My dreams?" asks Mr. Roby. "My dreams have always been very particular. Sometimes they are even close to prophetic."

Wolfgang clears his throat and gets up out of his seat.

"Might I suggesting ze ozer round of drinking?"


He goes to collect the refreshments and returns to his chair.

"Prophetic? How do you mean, you having had a dream coming out?"

"Well, dreams often reflect reality. They tell us things that our wakings minds may not wish us to expect. If you'll forgive me for the analogy but ... after the Arch-Duke was shot in that terrible event that began the Great War there may have been a number of dreamers who saw the world set alight and dipped in blood. Prophetic, perhaps, but also due to the credibility of the collective unconsciousness in its ability to derive truth from the fictional constructs that surround us through a dream odyssey. Do you often have such dreams yourself?"

"I haven't," says Elena, "but I've noticed that there may be something to this collective unconscious. People in general seem to know instinctively when something terrible is about to happen. Even before the pact was signed, I could feel that war was coming. That just confirmed how close it was."

"You seem an insightful sort of person," says Mr. Roby. "Perhaps we could try a little game? Have you heard of a gypsy technique involving the use of tarot cards to draw special insight from the subconscious mind?"

Wolfgang awaits the demonstration, albeit with some noticeable scepticism.

"I've never had a Tarot reading before," says Elena, "but I have heard of it. Several cultures use a random technique for similar purposes. The Chinese I Ching is another example. I'd be very interested in having a reading."

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. While the bar stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), a piano sits at the other end alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar.
"Oh dear, I don't have the deck on me at present," says Mrs. Roby. "Perhaps you could fetch it, dear, and when you return we could adjourn to a quieter area to perform it? Perhaps in the Lounge Car?"
"A jolly good idea," says Mr. Roby. "I will collect the two books as I go. I shall be back shortly." He rises from his seat without another word and heads into the Lounge Car.

The train conductor enters the Smoking Car and says in a clear yet polite voice, "Attention, we are pulling into Epernay train station. Attention, we are pulling into Epernay station." He continues on to the sleeping car. Moments later there's a light squeal of brakes as the train begins to slow its speeds on approach to the train station.

Elena looks out the windows to get a look at Epernay as the train approaches the station.

Wolfgang looks out at the bustle of the station with a melancholy smile and then turns to the two ladies.

"May I making suggestion for some champagne? Ve are in Epernay after all."

"An excellent idea!" says Elena, who has already finished her cognac in spite of having sipped it slowly.

Wolfgang goes to the bar to order the champagne with four glasses and then escorts the ladies to the Lounge car.

Elena puts out her cigarette and puts her holder away, then follows Wolfgang to the Lounge Car.

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. While the bar stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), a piano sits at the other end alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar. There are a number of people in deep discussion with each other, mingling and getting to know one another. Those who had been dining in the Dining Car move into the Bar Car, freshly fed.
Farooqi Al-Rassam sits at the bar counter, nursing a coke and watching the bartender with slightly narrowed eyes. He looks to be on the verge of asking a question but thus far he does nothing. The bartender catches his eye and looks confused, before a look of realisation crosses his face and he reaches up to his collar to pluck something up and tuck it beneath his shirt.

Successful Spot Hidden check reveals,a little upside down ankh on a fine silver chain can be seen dangling over the bartender's collar as he sets about making cocktails moments before the bartender tucks it away. It seems rather feminine and dainty for a man.

Kieran walks into the smoking car gets a seat at the bar, orders a whiskey & pulls out his pipe to smoke from it after a good meal. Making polite introductions & general small talk to the late night people sitting at the bar & the staff.

It's going to be a long trip so might as well get to know everyone.

There's a pair of Americans who sit on one of the sofas who seem particulary personable and willing to chat. They are Americans, after all. Their country is renowned for its openness for conversation.
"How do you do?" said the man with an American accent, providing Kieran with a friendly smile. The light off the overhead lights glints off his wedding ring. "My name is George Rimwald and this is my wife, Nora."
"Pleased to meet you," says Nora with a polite smile.
"British, are you?" asked George. "I can tell from your accent."

Kieran greets George & Nora.

"Pleased to meet both of you on this trip." With a slightly irritated look pops up with the word British.

they are foreign to Europe & don't know any better

"As for my accent, it & I are from the great land of Ireland next to that other island of England."

Pulling out to light & smoke from my pipe unless they object while safely changing the subject. "Have you enjoyed your time in Europe so far being this far from the other side of the Atlantic?"

"Oh, we haven't been in Europe long," says Nora with a polite smile. "We arrived in France with a mind to take the Orient Express on to Germany."
"I can't say I've enjoyed France thus far," said George. "There are so many warmongers and damn fools thinking our friends in Germany feel any need to be up in arms against us. I try telling them that my friends in Germany have assured me that they have no interest in assaulting Great Britain, in particular, but also France as well, so long as their sovereign rights are respected. The whole damnable issue in the Great war was the fault of Eastern Europe anyhow. I don't suppose you are wise enough to be a fascist or a sympathiser to the fascists?"

Kieran takes a drink from his glass of whiskey.

"It's a shame you didn't like Paris more, quite a variety of things to see there & I barely saw Paris as the ferry was late coming from across the channel."

"I have no love for fascists or any country that tries to rule another so if I were you, I'd try to get my friends out of Germany as soon as possible. It's rather hard to enjoy life with all that tension with their neighbors going on around there & can't say I trust Germany all that much after all the stuff they did in the Great War."

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. While the bar stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), a piano sits at the other end alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar. There are a number of people in deep discussion with each other, mingling and getting to know one another.

The train begins to slow with the slight squeel of brakes, its rattle becoming more distinct as the locomotive strains to slow the tonnages that follow so that it can finally creep into the station at Chalons-sur-Marne. The Train Manager passes along the aisle, identifying the platform as he goes, doubtless in case there were someone wishing to depart on that platform or perhaps simply to ensure that everyone was quite aware of some of the marvels they were passing. The station platform seems dark and cold outside as though France itself were trapped in a cool and foreboding Autumn.
Farooqi Al-Rassam must be eavesdropping, else he just happened to clear his throat over a chuckle for some unknown internal thought.
"Well, I..." Nora pauses, seeming quite disturbed by Kieran's bluntness.
"This is the problem I have with the uneducated," said George amiably, much as a teacher wishing to condescend additional patience to an unruly schoolboy. "You have no understanding of the scope of the task set before Germany nor the vital nature of their work. We are a militaristic species, mankind. It is only right that we do what we can to ensure order and good governance manage the countryside. The totalitarian state, when organised by a single unifying theme of racial dominance and naturalistic urges, including national pride and martial fervor, cannot help but ensure a simple raising of a nation to a point of glory. To attempt to do anything else when we have scientific rationales that recommend efficiency, both in birth and manner, and which describe in no uncertain terms the cruelties inflicted upon children of racial mingling or genetic defect, is negligent in the extreme. Inequality is both unavoidable or even desirable but I don't suppose that is something that you, being of the lesser Irish race, and doubtless a Catholic to boot, could quite possibly comprehend." In the pause that follows, he smugly fills his pipe as though expecting to have dealt a terrible blow to Kieran's self-esteem.

PRESENT: Kieran McLaughtery, George Rimwald, Nora Rimwald, Farooqi Al-Rassam, Durante Pontarelli, Erminia Pontarelli, Harriet Roby, Henry Roby, Magdelena Bartenstein, Kliment Rukov, Sulamen Hijazi, Waleed Hijazi, Johannes Sprech, Minoo Hijazi and Nafy Hijazi

Kieran looks to George Rimwald, "you're right as someone who's a practical man who doesn't care to dirty his hands with the grand shallow political deals going on to run any country, I really don't know what's been going on in the minds of those leading Germany before they ran off or got caught. I do know however to go around with an itchy trigger finger & an iron boot stomping all around Europe like they did in the Great War isn't going to get you many allies in the long run as you want to find that balance between order & freedom. Anyone can boss people around but I found out the hard way that there's ALWAYS going to be someone out there that will either think that some totalitarian rule is something they disagree with or just feel that they can do a better job at running things than you are. We've got our own God given right as men to think as men & we're not little honeybee drones mindlessly following someone in charge just because they say so. Thinking like those little drones could be said to be what cost Germany from winning or avoiding the whole Great War in the first place letting those small little countries east of Germany to just settle things for themselves."

A man enters the Smoking Car and continues on to the Dining Car, even though both First and Second Service are finished. No one should be going through there and he doesn't wear an Orient Express uniform. The man had a rather determined look on his face as well.
"Some people simply don't know what's good for them," said George. "Even a casual glance at the underclasses will tell you that. It is human nature to wish to invest authority into the hands of those who are better skilled and better able to ensure the betterment of humankind. Could you imagine what the niggers would do if they were given the opportunity to run the nation? Or those absurd suffragettes? Herr Hitler is an admirable and forward thinking person. He will undoubtedly see to the rise of the German nation and it will only be a matter of time before the other forward thinking nations desire to follow suit."

Kieran continues in the conversation "Well Hitler might be a good leader, he might not be but I have no problem or preference on who decides to lead some country as just about every race has done for all the countries over the world. However if you feel he's that good of a leader then you can feel free to leave the rather expanding & free Americas for someone like that as I won't stop you."

Then looks at his watch, "well it's rather late & with all the recent travels, I have a few things to attend to, good night", looking over to the bartender "thanks for the excellent whiskey." And leave to the sleeping cabin to read a little then get some sleep.

Nico passes down the corridor of the Smoking Car, looking about herself, before finally passing through into the Dining Car which should be closed for the night.

Kieran leaves the Smoking Car for the Lounge Car.

OOC,I'm going to slowly lead you through all of the cars as there's different elements going on in each one. The Lounge Car, for example, is oddly quiet and tense but for one man and woman. Post there that you're leaving (or interact with folks) and then you'll need to post in Jeanette's corridor - which may have it's own issues and encounters and so on.

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table.

The train begins to gather speed as it leaves the station at Chalons-sur-Marne. The station platform seems dark and cold outside as though France itself were trapped in a cool and foreboding Autumn. A bartender works his magic at the bar which stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), with a pianist playing piano at the other end of the car alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar.

Farooqi Al-Rassam has a seat on a couch not far from the pianist though he seems to only have eyes for the bartender. Nora and George Rimwald share a couch and are in eager discussions about the glories of fascism with Durante and Erminia Pontarelli though Durante seems to be watching Magdalena Bartenstein (who visibly holds no similarity in appearance to him) with an almost fatherly interest. George Rimwald mentions, at one point, that the children are only so annoying because they are being left in the company of a black kid. He doesn't seem to notice that the little black girl is the shy and best behaved one.

Four children play on and around the dance floor. Harriet and Henry Roby dance the foxtrot with clumsy abandon while Magdelena Bartenstein claps and giggles with an almost over eager desire to be happy. Nafy Hijazi, the youngest of them whose skin is close to the literal colour of black while the two dancing siblings have the pallor of England, is quietly standing beside Magdalena, chewing her thumbnail and smiling shyly. Unable to get on the dance floor herself though clearly part of her wishes to join the others.

Kliment Rukov, a handsome man with a Russian accent, sits on a bar stool and talks in good English to Sulamen Hijazi, about the colour bar in America and how nasty American fascists can be. Sulamen Hijazi, however, points out that while he didn't get the chance to speak with the American cowboy who had boarded the train, the man had looked at him as a human being. He can't say the same about George Rimwald who seems to regard no one as human until they admit to sharing his views. However, George does seem to have a special hostility to his gaze.

Minoo Hijazi and Waleed Hijazi are discussing something in an African language. They hold hands and seem to be having a sweet moment, occasionally smiling over at Nafy.

Johannes Sprech sits at the bar on a stool, sipping a glass of expensive champagne and idly watching those around him.

PRESENT: George Rimwald, Nora Rimwald, Farooqi Al-Rassam, Durante Pontarelli, Erminia Pontarelli, Harriet Roby, Henry Roby, Magdelena Bartenstein, Kliment Rukov, Sulamen Hijazi, Waleed Hijazi, Johannes Sprech, Minoo Hijazi and Nafy Hijazi

Dr Fernand Bedel enters the car seemingly with a single minded purpose. To get him self a drink. Moving directly to the bar and taking up a stool he orders a french brandy, and proceeds to stare into it. He looks around but seems to fail to find what he's looking for, and instead returns his attention to his drink.

The man on the barstool next to Bedel turns to regard him as he stares down at his drink.

German,"Forgive me, but I couldn't help but notice your accent as you boarded the train. Your French is very good but you are initially from Germany, are you not?"

German,[color=#0040FF]"Yes that is right,"[/color] he says struggling not to roll his eyes.

Parker gives the man on the bar a glance before continuing on through the smoking car to the dining room.

Lily pulls Charles into the Smoking Car, and her eyes light up at the sight of so many people. She tilts her head in the direction of the bar and gives Charles a questioning look.

Charles smiles at her indulgently. "I am a man of my word, Lily. You may drink as much as you like though beware the natural consequences of too much liquor." He draws her over to the bar.

------------------
The man smiles. It is not a kind smile.

German,"One can never forget one's origins, [b]Dr. Bedel[/b]. You would do well to remember that."

------------------

No one intercepts Parker on his way through to the Dining Car though George Rimwald does comment rather loudly that the Dining Car is meant to be closed so why are so many passengers entering it?

Lily takes a seat at the bar, blinks at the bartender, then turns to look at Charles. "Uhm-- do you know what's good here?"

German,Why thankyou for your kind concern. May I ask you how you know me?

The bartender smiles at Lily, though his gaze flicks to Charles first, "Can I serve you anything, sir? Madam?"
Sprech gives Bedel a chilling smile before turning to Charles. "Ah, Mr. Gavigan. I almost didn't see you there."
Charles holds out his hand. "Ah, Sprech. Good to see you again. Please calls me Charles."
Sprech shakes his hand, his smile broadening. "Such informality! You are a very different man to your father."
"As are you," says Charles, with a mischevious gleam in his eye.
"Call me Johannes," says Sprech.
"Johanes, this is my dear sister Lily," says Charles, gesturing to the young woman beside him. "She's very precious to me."

Lily gives Johannes a small nod and a polite smile. "I'm pleased to meet you, sir. How do you do?"

Dr Bedel turns to sprech with an overly happy expression and a chuckle.

German,"Johannes Sprech is it. You know my professor had a saying, never intimidate a doctor. They know every way a man can die."

With one final gulp he finishes his whisky and nods to the two new people speaking to Sprech before heading in the direction of the lounge car.

Charles stares after the doctor's departing back. "Making friends again, are we? You should beware that one."
Sprech relaxes on his chair and nods to the bartender. "A round of your best scotch, if you will." He then eyes Charles thoughtfully. "And whyever should I beware him?"
"He reminds me of someone I used to know," says Charles softly, rubbing at the side of his throat. "Another man, another time, seemingly a lifetime ago."
Sprech nods.

The bartender delivers them all their drinks. An odd-smelling brownish liquid is placed before Lily. Time for her first alcoholic drink.

Lily watches her brother and Johannes curiously, before she is distracted by the arrival of her drink. She picks up the glass and swirls the alcohol a little, her expression almost dreamy. Then she smells it, raises an eyebrow, and takes an experimental sip.

Her eyes grow comically wide and she tightens her mouth into a frown. She squirms a bit as she recomposes herself.

Sprech looks over at the young white girl standing beside Nafy. "See that child? Her name is Magdalena Bartenstein. She is for the moment rich Jewess since her parents died and left her an orphan with a reasonably large life insurance pay out. Regrettably while they became French citizens, they did not think to do the same with her and so now she is being sent back to Germany."
Charles' brow furrows. "I thought the French were helping Jewish refugees."
Sprech smiles. "A few. She was too young to know to whom to turn and ask. She had none to defend her and so she has been expelled. Thus she took her inheritance and due to her fears of what would happen to this fabulous new wealth she spent it on herself and on this trip. I would not be surprised if she had a mink coat in her compartment." He pauses. "The German authorities are doubtless informed. They will take her when she leaves the train and hope to find some of her wealth in her suitcases. The Third Reich has a need of wealth."

Lily sighs loudly, staring into her glass of scotch and taking another tentative sip. She stares at the two men for a moment before sliding carelessly into the conversation. "Do you always have such... political conversations with your associates, Charles? I didn't know you had an interest; you never talk to me about these things."

"Of course not, dear," says Charles, barely keeping his exasperation from his voice. "You know nothing of politics. If you would prefer more feminine conversations then you may approach anyone in this car for such a thing."

Lily smiles acidly at him. "I do apologize. I wouldn't want to go running off without your permission, Charles." She rises from the bar stool, glass still in hand, and goes off to the couches in order to eavesdrop on the American couple.

"Adolf Hitler has so very many valuable things to say," said the man with an American accent, providing Kieran with a friendly smile. The light off the overhead lights glints off his wedding ring. "Such as 'The sportive, knightly battle awakens the best human characteristics. It doesn't separate, but unites the combatants in understanding and respect. He also helps to connect the countries in the spirit of peace. That's why the Olympic Flame should never die.' He understands the value of sport at a different level than most of the lazy socialists who wish everything to be given to them by stealing other people's money."
"Yes, dear," says Nora with a polite smile.
"As for all those fools who think that Hitler is warlike, I say to them, 'The German people are not a warlike nation. It is a soldierly one, which means it does not want a war, but does not fear it. It loves peace but also loves its honor and freedom.' Naturally he is ready for one if one would occur, however. 'If the international Jewish financiers . . . should again succeed in plunging the nations into a world war the result will be . . . the annihilation of the Jewish race throughout Europe.' Thus if war seems likely in the US, it is the Jews we should turn on. They ... there are a number of rich Jews in America. They're all doctors, lawyers, or big in the film industry. Everywhere that earns a lot of money and reinforces control. Did you know that?"

Lily looks at Nora over the rim of her glass, then returns to slowly sipping the contents. Her eyes flick over to Magdalena, and then back to Johannes and her brother. She taps her foot restlessly.

Keeper,[i]Is all this something I should know about? Probably not; his wife either doesn't know or pretends not to. I suppose if you're pretty you don't need to know much. Is scotch one of those 'acquired tastes?' Whatever, Charles will be annoyed if I don't drink it. Didn't Sprech say something about that girl being a rich Jewess? Are all of them really so wealthy? I wonder what they're talking about now. There's no one to have more feminine conversations with. I don't even know what that means. This is boring. Is it too early in the trip to start sneaking around?[/i]

"Our country is overrun, riddled really, absolutely decomposing from the inside due to all of the inverts, imbeciles, and lesser races muddying the genetic waters," says Mr. Rimwald. "Luckily though our country had the foresight to introduce the Jim Crow legislation to keep the blacks to their sides of town, though that's only a halfway measure you understand. The sterilisation laws are helping but they're not being used to their full capacity. There are literally hundreds of thousands of undesirables who are causing trouble and pain and all of that could be stopped at this very generation, you understand? It pains my heart to see that it isn't. It's unfair to the young of tomorrow to be saddled with such undesirable and problematic characteristics. Can't these parents see what they are condemning their children into being? I feel for those blacks, I really do, for their position in life."
"You are a very passionate man," says Durante calmly. "If there are many like you in America then I suppose you, too, will become a fascist nation."

Lily's attention snaps to Mr. Rimwald, and she leans back against the couch cushions with a look of ever-growing horror.

Keeper,[i]I have no idea what he's talking about! I hate not knowing things! What does he mean about inverts--I haven't even done anything wrong, how could I decompose a country? What if Charles thinks like he does? What if he finds out? What will he do to me? I suppose I should marry someone sooner rather than later... I really am doomed to a half-filled life.[/i]

A fellow comes over to sit on the couch across from her, holding a Russian newspaper in front of him. Well, mostly in front of him, but mostly in the direction of her brother who seems to be rather intent on his conversation at the bar. "You look entirely lost, my dear. Apologies for saying so." His accent is impeccably British. He folds his paper rather particularly, then offers his hand. "My name is Kliment Mikhailovich Kruglov. International tourist and general busybody. If you don't wish to talk to me, that's okay. I am a wonder at making introductions, however, so if there might be someone you would like to speak with I can certainly introduce you." He gives the Rimwalds a disdainful look. "Even to them."

"Oh--" Lily jumps a little, snapping out of her thoughts, then relaxes. "I mean, good evening, sir. I admit I am a little lost; my dear brother has abandoned me for political conversation and I know no one else aboard." She smiles and takes his hand. "But I'm glad to make your acquaintance. I'm Lily. Lily Gavigan. And I'd be happy to talk to you. I'm sure it'll be less tiresome than listening to them." She glances unsubtly at the Rimwalds.

Kruglov gives her a gentle smile. "Politics seems to be on everyone's mind, I'm afraid. I fear it has something to do with the situation in Europe drawing a line in the sand and everyone is entirely desperate to choose to jump to one side or the other. To be honest, it seems in awfully poor - not to mention dangerous - taste to discuss it shortly before we cross the border to Germany. One never can tell to whom one speaks." His smile broadens and he lowers his voice, leaning in towards her a little bit. "They do say that the Orient Express is renowned for its intelligence agents due to the ease with which it crosses borders." He pauses. "I'm a writer so forgive my long words." His accent drops a bit, becoming more middle class central London. "I can talk more normally, if you like."

"I confess I have no idea what anyone is talking about. My brother never tells me anything." Lily casually sips her drink and arches an eyebrow. "Intelligence agents? Do you mean spies?" she asks, hushing her voice to a conspiratorial tone. Her eyes glitter with curiosity.

"The Nazi Party took absolute power in Germany several years ago under a rather persuasive and personally powerful fellow called Herr Adolf Hitler who believes that the miseries of the German people are entirely the fault of a global Jewish conspiracy, that the German Aryan race is genetically superior to any other and that the other races - whom he considers to be subhuman - can't help but weaken the world, and that it is only through military might and war that humanity's full potential can be reached. Men must be men and fight for the Fatherland. Women must be women and give birth to sons who can fight for the Fatherland. At present, Herr Adolf Hitler seems intent on retaking a section of land belonging to Poland and after his invasion of Czechoslovakia, both France and the British Empire have no stomach for allowing it without war. Russia has made a peace pact with Germany saying that she won't get involved. That's about the short of it."

He gives her a sheepish smile. "I didn't just bore you then, did I?"

Lily leans forward a little, shaking her head. "Not at all, sir. It's nice to meet someone who doesn't dismiss me outright."

"But I didn't get the impression you wanted to discuss the world's affairs with me."

"I work in your brother's organisation," he says in a low voice, checking carefully toward her brother (still deep in conversation) before pulling an upside down ankh on a leather thong from his pocket to show her. All Lily knows about such an object is that it's the symbol of her brother's secret society. Something similar to the Freemason's that provides certain social privileges in exchange for something or other that he never really bothered to explain. He winces at the change in her expression (subtle or not). "I know, I know. I just thought I'd better be upfront about all of it. I imagine you don't get that a lot, do you? He's hired me to keep an eye on you and make sure you don't do anything too wild these next few days. Or rather channel that wildness into previously agreed upon endeavours. You won't tell him I told you, will you? I'd get in a lot of trouble and you'd lose your chance on freedom."

He pauses. "I think he rather expects we should marry. Bizarre, isn't he?"

Lily recoils at the sight of the symbol, a flush of anger creeping onto her skin. "What?!" she hisses under her breath, her hand trembling dangerously on her glass as she looks him in the eyes. "So that's what this is? How many more of you are there? How much has he told you about me?"

For a moment she looks as though she's about to throw her drink in his face, but her outrage collapses under the weight of a sudden realization. "Of course he'd want me to marry you-- damn it, of course he would--" Her shoulders slump and she stares into her glass with frightened eyes. "My God, so this is how he plans to keep me under his rule." Her voice is a bare whisper.

"Please don't splash the messenger," he says gently. "I'm the one letting you in on the whole situation, aren't I?"

"But why?" Lily asks, drawing her eyes back to his. "Telling me doesn't make your job any easier. I don't see why you'd bother."

She cocks her head and stares at him coolly. "That is, unless you were just hoping to make yourself look noble and trustworthy."

"You're right," he says, mimicking her head cock. "I'm trying to manipulate you. Failing, but trying." He pauses, peering at her as though truly considering her for the first time. "You're far less submissive than your brother assumes. That will cause him a lot of trouble in future." He leans back in his seat. "Your choice, naturally. You can claim to have found me to be a bore and walk off to talk with someone else." He seems entirely okay with that as though discussing the choice between two equally nice breakfast options.

"Or you could tell me what you meant by losing my chance at freedom." Lily smiles at him again, but her eyes are cold. "Were you ever really going to help me, or would you be dutifully reporting my misdeeds to Charles all the while?"

She leans forward and widens her smile, showing too many teeth. "I'm sure you know what sort of man he is. You say you'd be in a lot of trouble if I told him what you told me. Given your confession just now, I see no reason why I shouldn't."

"I have to report to your brother, yes, because he's a very terrifying man though the details may vary from what was experienced." Kliment looks at her curiously. "But I don't know if you would tell him what I told you.... It would give you the opportunity to lash out at me but who am I to you? And in the end you would lose to him. Everyone always does when they confront him head on." He pauses. "If you kept it a secret, at least you would know something you weren't supposed to. Something of which he wasn't aware." A longer pause this time. "Such as that the bartender is also a member of the Brotherhood ... as is someone else on this train who isn't yet aware of the details of that membership and so thinks he can merely walk away."

Lily stays quiet for a long moment, continuing to stare blankly at him. Then her posture relaxes, her face softens, and she lets out a strange little laugh. "You do have secrets. Maybe that's who you are to me." She pauses to sip from her drink with a casual shrug. "Maybe I shouldn't lay all my cards on the table just yet. Maybe you're not all bad, Mr. Kruglov."

"But what am I to you? Am I merely Mr. Gavigan's precious little sister who will help you earn his favor? What has he told you about me?"

"You are a mystery to me," he said. "Plainly speaking I don't believe your brother knows the first thing about you. You're obviously quite pretty though you make a point to be as nontraditional about it as you can be. You dress down. You wear your gloom. Perhaps you even are gloomy. Or perhaps you're purposefully hiding. Your brother describes you as a doll. Or as a quiet and foolish pet dog. The sort that would walk into a wall if you didn't take care of it. Not his words, you understand, but the intent behind it. If I were to rely on his opinion of you, I should expect you to throw yourself into a fit of hysterics or go into a near catatonic state at the insult. In truth you're far more brazen and resilient than that. You might find some quiet form of revenge but more than likely you've dealt with worse. I imagine you've dealt with much worse. Perhaps even the negation of your very being at the hands of someone to whom you are little more than a wayward doll to be dressed, adored, protected ... and mocked."

"Do I cut too close to the quick? I have been told that I'm careless with my words."

"You think I'm pretty?" Lily snickers behind her glass. "No, that was the least important thing you said, flatterer. I don't know why I'd fixate on it."

She sinks a little further into the couch and tips more scotch past her lips. "Do you know, he's not as wrong as you seem to think? I am profoundly useless. I can't work, I have no skills, all my connections are tied to him. My best hope is to con a wealthy man into marriage and pray he'll be kind, or else go out in a terribly romantic suicide." Her laughter is loud and humorless.

"Could you imagine his face if he found me dead? It would be hilarious."

Kliment laughs and then goes over to order a glass of scotch. To her brother's credit, Charles ignores him. Kliment settles back on the couch opposing her. "Does he frighten you?"

"No. Yes. ...Sometimes." Lily's gaze flicks over to her brother again. "You do know I live with him? I once saw him hurl a telephone across the room because he didn't like what he heard. He could do the same to me, if his anger grew stronger than his... whatever he feels about me."

"Does he frighten you?"

He says nothing, simply sips his drink and watches her.

"What?" Lily frowns, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "What are you just staring at me for? I asked you a question."

Kliment chuckles. “And that’s my version of ‘No Comment’.”

“Did you want an introduction to someone else here? The Sudanese family are quite nice to talk to.”

"Forgive me for saying so, Mr. Kruglov, but I don't--can't--trust you to have good intentions. If your business with me is done, I will sit and drink alone. I'm sure we'll see each other again. We are aboard the same train, after all."

Kliment nods. "Good luck." And with that, he rises from his seat in the Smoking Car and walks briskly toward the Lounge Car.

Lily eyes her glass of scotch, leans back, and swallows as much of it as she can stand. Her face contorts with distaste, but after a moment she sighs and gets off the couch, then heads back over to the bar and her brother.

"Well your new friend ran off in a hurry," says Charles as she approaches.

Lily ignores his words and sets her glass on the bar. "May I go back to our compartment? I'm not feeling well."

"Of course, just be sure to look at the windows and not at those dratted flyers on those doors," says Charles.

Lily gives him a quiet nod and turns to go into the Lounge Car.

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table.

The train begins to gather speed as it leaves the station at Chalons-sur-Marne. The station platform seems dark and cold outside as though France itself were trapped in a cool and foreboding Autumn. A bartender works his magic at the bar which stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), with a pianist playing piano at the other end of the car alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar.

Farooqi Al-Rassam has a seat on a couch not far from the pianist though he seems to be lost in thought, staring down at his glass of juice. Nora and George Rimwald share a couch and are in eager discussions about the glories of fascism with Durante and Erminia Pontarelli though Durante seems to be watching Magdalena Bartenstein (who visibly holds no similarity in appearance to him) with an almost fatherly interest. George Rimwald mentions, at one point, that the children are only so annoying because they are being left in the company of a black kid. He doesn't seem to notice that the little black girl is the shy and best behaved one.

Four children play on and around the dance floor. Harriet and Henry Roby dance the foxtrot with clumsy abandon while Magdelena Bartenstein claps and giggles with an almost over eager desire to be happy. Nafy Hijazi, the youngest of them whose skin is close to the literal colour of black while the two dancing siblings have the pallor of England, is quietly standing beside Magdalena, chewing her thumbnail and smiling shyly. Unable to get on the dance floor herself though clearly part of her wishes to join the others. Sulamen Hijazi sits on a couch nearby, watching them curiously and darting glances sidelong toward Durante who doesn't seem to have noticed him.

Charles Gavigan, a gentleman in an expensive suit, sits on a bar stool, talking to Johannes Sprech about his interesting speculation toward the financial situation in both Nazi Germany and Great Britain were the two countries to come to war. Once finished on that point, the two begin discussing interesting archaeological digs in Egypt.

Minoo Hijazi and Waleed Hijazi are discussing something in an African language. They hold hands and seem to be having a sweet moment, occasionally smiling over at Nafy.

PRESENT: George Rimwald, Nora Rimwald, Charles Gavigan, Farooqi Al-Rassam, Durante Pontarelli, Erminia Pontarelli, Harriet Roby, Henry Roby, Magdelena Bartenstein, Sulamen Hijazi, Waleed Hijazi, Johannes Sprech, Minoo Hijazi and Nafy Hijazi

A slim man dressed in impeccable evening wear pops his head into the smoking carriage and scans the room. He frowns and then his face clears; he walks towards the man sitting on the couch by the pianist and sits down beside him. "Hullo! How's your evening been so far, Sir? Have you seen Amadi anywhere?" He says pleasantly to Farooqui Al-Rassam.

Farooqi Al-Rassam looks at him. "My evening has been interesting. How went things with that German fellow?"

"Uncomfortably sinister, I'm afraid. There's something very unusual happening aboard this train and Herr Schiller is up to his eyeballs." Cecil looks at Farooqui, 'Interesting - how so? Anything to do with weird symbols and disappearing passengers?"

Parker walks in from the dining car, shoots a glance towards the bar, and continues on to the lounge.

"Strange symbols?" asks Farooqi Al-Rassam. "Such as an inverted ankh?"

"Exactly like an inverted ankh... and others too; ones that don't do one much good to look at either. Where did you see the ankh?" Cecil starts to feel rather worried for his young friend but doesn't want to alarm Farooqi.

"The bartender who seems awful chummy with the blonde German with the too pale eyes," says Farooqi Al-Rassam in a lowered voice, nodding toward the blonde man at the bar who was deep in discussion with a brunette Englishman. "I know that symbol to belong to members of a rather troubling and deadly secret society that began in Egypt and has dug its tendrils in other countries as well now. If they have some plans aboard this train, I feel I must somehow do what I can to disrupt it, insha-Allah."

Experience with Muslims,insha-Allah means "God Willing" and it's often used when a person is feeling ambivalent and unsure about whether or not they can fulfil their promise.

Cecil pales. He sits, looking troubled and turns so his back is towards the bar. He speaks very quietly.

Farooqui,[color=#0000BF] "Did he hold it, as if he'd picked it up? Or was he wearing it - around his neck? And have you seen anything like this? [/color]

Cecil hands Farooqui the piece of paper from the dining room.

"Around his neck, yes," says Farooqi Al-Rassam. He accepts the piece of paper that has no symbol upon it (that was the rock) but does have a series of Arabic sentences written upon it. He quickly scans the letter and then looks up at Cecil. "Where did you get this? It seems to be some sort of prayer for help though it is written in a very archaic and unsettling manner with odd letters that don't belong to the Arabic alphabet interspersed within."

Cecil ponders for a moment. "Herr Schiller, the German who stopped moving at dinner and we took back to his cabin - he was talking to two gentlemen on the table next to ours. When I returned to the dining car, they too had stopped moving. I found this paper attached to a rock underneath that table. The rock had a strange symbol on it that made one's eyes water. I wonder if the symbol had some power over the men who were there. I can't see how though."

Cecil still feels foolish about the matter of the 'invisible' gentlemen so declines to mention it. "Do you think it is something this society would be involved in? It is certainly nasty and I suppose the symbol could be Egyptian." He looks casually over to the barman. "And he is obviously a member." He murmurs, thinking about Amadi. "strangely enough, did you overhear that loud English man discussing his dreams over dinner? He mentioned an inverted ankh too; a coincidence? Possibly not."

"I would like to help you, Sir. If you'll let me. I fear there may be a few members of this society on board; there's the strange rock, and there are posters on the walls in the sleeping cars that make one feel queer to look at; I reckon they are connected somehow. Also, I'd like to find Amadi; you know how he seems to attract trouble."

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. A bartender works his magic at the bar which stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), with a pianist playing piano at the other end of the car alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar.

Nora and George Rimwald share a couch and are in eager discussions about the glories of fascism with Durante and Erminia Pontarelli though Durante seems to be watching Magdalena Bartenstein (who visibly holds no similarity in appearance to him) with an almost fatherly interest. George Rimwald complains loudly about the absence of any parental figures.

Harriet and Henry Roby collapse onto one of the couches. Magdelena Bartenstein nervously sits down next to them. Nafy Hijazi sits on Magdalena's lap. The motion makes Durante sneer. He obviously doesn't like black people.

Minoo Hijazi and Waleed Hijazi are discussing something in an African language. They hold hands and seem to be having a sweet moment, occasionally smiling over at Nafy.
Sulamen Hijazi goes over to speak with them.

Charles Gavigan, a gentleman in an expensive suit, sits on a bar stool, talking to Johannes Sprech in German in lowered voices.

Farooqi Al-Rassam and Lord Cecil Linscott sit on a couch furthest away from everyone else, speaking in lowered tones. Cecil has his back toward the bar though he does occasionally look around (I'm presuming).
"Our first piece of business should be determining who these people are and how many are aboard this train," says Farooqi Al-Rassam. "I'll see what I can do about translating this letter tonight, if you will give it to me? Then I would recommend finding out all you can about our new passengers who are connected to that ankh. This dreamer, the bartender, the blonde and the man to whom he is eagerly speaking at present. I only hope we haven't stepped into some dangerous conspiracy aboard this train."
Nico strolls through the room towards the bar and freezes a good few feet between the two men at the bar who seem to be talking quite eagerly in German. She shivers slightly and takes a half-step backward before abruptly heading toward the Lounge Car.

Cecil,I know you're not looking in the direction of the bar but I imagine your gaze may have followed the pretty lady. Up to you. Feel free to roll a halved Listen check and German - if you have it - to understand what the two were saying.

PRESENT: George Rimwald, Nora Rimwald, Charles Gavigan, Farooqi Al-Rassam, Durante Pontarelli, Erminia Pontarelli, Harriet Roby, Henry Roby, Magdelena Bartenstein, Sulamen Hijazi, Waleed Hijazi, Johannes Sprech, Minoo Hijazi and Nafy Hijazi.

Cecil silently hands over the letter and he catches sight of the pretty French/American girl from the lounge car. He has no idea what the Germans are saying that she dislikes. "Strange. Well it could be a long night; if I can't find you here, I'll try your cabin. Watch out for those nasty posters if you head that way - may be better to find me on the way." He says to Farooqi as he stands up.

He heads over to the bar near to the two Germans. In his best British accent he says to the barman, "I say, a double scotch!" and turns to the men. "Can I get you anything? They do a damn fine Highland Park here - 18 years of course."

"Your selection sounds admirably mouth-watering," says the fellow with a well-to-do British accent. "Perhaps we could have the same?" He smiles and it seems genuine enough. "My name is Charles Gavigan and my friend here is Herr Johannes Sprech, son of the eminent Egyptologist of the same name. You would be Lord Cecil Linscott, if I am not mistaken? I do believe I knew your father."

"I can't do anything with this recognisable old mug, haw haw. How d' you do?" Cecil signals for more scotch, takes his glass, "Good health!" and savours his whiskey. "I'm surprised you managed to dig Lord Keynsham out of his country lair; he never goes to town these days, too much the country squire what. He had a passing interest in archaeology a while back; was it then that you met him?"

"In a manner of speaking," says Gavigan. "I was making plans to travel the countryside to see more of our fair green land and Lord Keynsham heard of it. As I am in charge of the Penhew Foundation, an organisation which funds a number of archeological digs to Egypt and maintains a museum in London, he wished to speak with me and wrote me an invitation to stay with him for a few days before continuing onward. He had followed Lord Pevensey's newsletters, Mr. Penhew - so to speak - being the Viscount of Pevensey, and had been much aggrieved when the fellow died on the ill-fated Carlyle Expedition in the early twenties. I don't suppose you take any interest in archaeology?"

OOC,Forgive any oddness about my description of titles. British titles and their manner of description being entirely beyond me.

Kieran arrives from the door to the lounge car pulling out a notebook & pencil from his jacket pocket & looks around seeing who is here & attending the odd late night show.

Cecil's eyes open wide in wonder, "All those dusty tombs and mummies and whatnot? I'll say! I'm not hot on the history stuff; not got the brains for all that you know. But give me a ripping adventure any day, haw haw." His face sobers up somewhat. "Mind you, Lord Keynsham says I'm always rushing off on one jaunt or another and will get into trouble soon enough but if one's got the cash one ought to spend it having fun I say." He takes a large swig of whiskey and grins a little foolishly.

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. A bartender works his magic at the bar which stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), with a pianist playing piano at the other end of the car alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar.

Nora and George Rimwald share a couch and are quietly drinking their wine. Durante and Erminia Pontarelli seem to pay little attention to each other.

Harriet and Henry Roby start heading off from the pianist toward the entrance to the lounge car.

Magdelena Bartenstein nervously sits on her own, looking very forlorn as Nafy Hijazi rushes over to her family.

Minoo Hijazi and Waleed Hijazi greet their little girl warmly while Magdelena gazes on, looking all the more alone. Sulamen Hijazi casts a wary eye around the train car.

Charles Gavigan, a gentleman in an expensive suit, sits on a bar stool, talking to Lord Cecil Linscott while Johannes Sprech, who sits next to him, simply watches and listens.

Farooqi Al-Rassam sit on a couch furthest away from everyone else, looking thoughtful and jotting something down in his notebook.

Kieran,the puppet show will start in fifteen minutes (next Friday, basically) and there's no sign of anyone setting up just yet. Then again, how long would it take to set up one of those shows.

"Well then, perhaps you would be interested in the delightful Miss Shefira Roash's collection?" asks Gavigan. "Her private car contains a variety of quite interesting archaeological exhibits from a number of Egyptian, eastern African, and even South American sites. I have heard it said that it is almost a rolling museum. I am certain that with your rather impeccable credentials it shouldn't be too difficult to arrange a meeting with her. Perhaps with one or two of your friends?"

Credit Rating roll (anyone bothering to listen can attempt this roll),Shefira Roash's attentions allow for what is known as Good Scandal. The sort of thing that gets the older generation mock outraged (but not really caring) but the younger generation eager. She travels extensively, throws the most luxurious parties, and is exceedingly discerning about whom she invites. One of her soirees is always akin to the Orient Express in it's own way. All sorts of folk will find themselves rubbing elbows with each other but it's always a fine mixture of personalities and interests. Being boorish enough to demand an invitation is a guarantee to never be invited, which is what some of the upper echelons have certainly found.

Know roll (same with this one),Shefira Roash is one of those eccentric millionaires that seemed to come on the scene almost out of nowhere. No one knows her own lineage, although there are talks that she is an illegitimate princess of the Egyptian king, the bastard child of an American oil tycoon who was guiltily sent off with a lot of money, or simply a self-made woman who has somehow managed to wrest control over a number of successful ventures.

PRESENT: George Rimwald, Nora Rimwald, Charles Gavigan, Farooqi Al-Rassam, Durante Pontarelli, Erminia Pontarelli, Lord Cecil Linscott, Kieran, Magdelena Bartenstein, Sulamen Hijazi, Waleed Hijazi, Johannes Sprech, Minoo Hijazi and Nafy Hijazi.

"Gosh, rather! Of course I've heard of Miss Roash; who hasn't, but I've never had the pleasure. Would it be alright to bring a friend? He's a bit of a rapscallion but frightfully charming." Cecil grins, "Could you find out when would be convenient?"

"I'm sure there wouldn't be a problem," says Gavigan. "Have you heard of tonight's performance? Apparently there will be a play performed by the Roby family ... a sock puppet performance ... whose occult overtones are known to send people into seizurs, or so the legend says. Typically the play isn't performed with socks, of course." He pauses. "There are flyers put up on all of the compartment doors. Rather frightful to look at, so I had the ones in Agatha taken down. You are staying in the Agatha Sleeping Car, of course? I have the double cabin with my sister."

"You are jolly well informed Mr. Gavigan! I have a cabin in Agatha car, it's darned small but well appointed." Cecil sips his whiskey, "The Roby family, really? They didn't strike me as theatrical; are they professionals or is it something just to keep the children amused?" He turns to the German, "Will be you watching the performance Herr Sprech? Where will it be? It sounds frightfully jolly."

"I only know what the flyers have reported," said Gavigan. "Did you have a chance to read one? It didn't say the Robies were the performers but Herr Sprech did learn that it was Mr. Roby who had them posted as he went to collect some books. The performance will be conducted in this very Smoking Car at eleven o'clock, which seems a little late for a children's performance. I must admit that I hope these children will go to bed soon. The darkie and the Jewess are quiet enough not to trouble me but those two english children are unfortunately rowdy and undisciplined. This is an adult's sphere and it is a shame that it's our fellow englishmen who are not respecting it." Gavigan sighs. "So long as it's only this night, I'll keep my peace, though I doubt that Mr. Rimwald will do the same."
"I will politely watch the performance as it will be in this car," says Herr Sprech in impeccable english with just a trace of a German accent. "I'm not particularly interested in sock performances, however." He trims his cigar, lights it. "Do you mind?" The courtesy question a smoker asks, most often as they light it, sometimes shortly after. No one truly expects anyone to refuse though it does happen often enough to validate the question.

Cecil only smiles as Sprech lights up and looks at his watch, "That's in fifteen minutes!" He stands up still with his whiskey in his hand. "I'll be back in a jiffy - call of nature and I really should get my camera! I'll find you in here?" Cecil sways a bit, either from the train's motion or from drink, and walks away trying to keep his glass steady. As he passes Farooqi's table he lurches, puts the glass down hard on Farooqi's table and, with his back to the bar, he says quickly, "It's going to hell in here; meet me in the lounge in fifteen. I'm going to find Amadi." He carries on through the carriage, swaying and grinning foolishly, towards the rear of the train.

Laraqua,Although he's looking rather drunk to outward appearances; inside, Cecil is trying not to panic; a show that sends people into seizures, just like Colman, Pius and Schiller - are they trying to do the whole train? Cecil shudders at the thought of a whole smoking car full of wooden bodies. Is the puppet show connected with the strange princess in the private car? And who are 'they'? The evil Egyptian cult that Amadi seems to be caught up with? And where is Amadi? Cecil hurries through the train looking for his friend.

ooc,How spooky is Herr Sprech's picture!

Farooqi's eyes widen. So shocked is he that he doesn't even notice Kieran passes and says clearly enough for Kieran to hear, though not loud enough for anyone else, "Whatever they're planning ... it must be stopped."

Cecil,carry on to the Lounge Car. The only people still there are the Robies, parents and kids.

OOC,Perfect picture, huh?

Kieran stops to look over to Farooqi, asking "what do you mean sir? It seems like a harmless bit of theatre unless you refer to something else that happened in the car that I wasn't here to witness."

Farooqi' pauses as his friend leaves the Smoking Car and turns his full attention on Kieran. He pauses for a moment as though considering how much to reveal, then says, "There are obscene things in this world and, judging by my friend's expression and statement, an upcoming entertainment will be filled with the obscene. I don't know the details of it. What I do know is that there are ... rather deadly ... situations aboard this train at present."

Kieran continues his conversation with Farooqi', "Well I still don't see how some theatrical show could be a problem though while I might find on the matters of religion some of the stuff in the show to be distasteful, it clearly couldn't be that bad to do anything more than make me avoid the works of the theatrical group in the future if they are on some current trend to antagonize certain religious views. With all this, I do agree that the confined space of the train could easily be problematic rather quickly with little escape. I cannot speak for others on the train but I know that I've been in a few scrapes so I'm fine with facing violence if it goes up against the helpless. So what is your plan with this show soon to start?"

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. A bartender works his magic at the bar which stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), with a pianist playing piano at the other end of the car alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar.

Nora and George Rimwald quietly rise and leave the smoking car in the direction of the sleeping cars, bidding the Pontarellis a good night.

Durante and Erminia Pontarelli seem to pay little attention to each other. Instead they are watching Magdelena Bartenstein, who nervously sits on her own, looking very forlorn and uncomfortable under the weight of their occasional stares.

Nafy Hijazi, Minoo Hijazi, Waleed Hijazi and Sulamen Hijazi leave the Smoking Car. The little girl yawns cutely as they go.

Charles Gavigan, a gentleman in an expensive suit, sits on a bar stool, talking to Johannes Sprech in German.

Sprech's German Language,"Do you think we should stop this before it begins?"

Gavigan's German Language,"This performance seems rather irrelevant to me. Let them have their fun. It will be interesting to see how those who remain react. Those who're leaving are lucky, I think. Perhaps they have enough insight to feel something coming?"

Farooqi Al-Rassam sits on a couch furthest away from everyone else, looking up at Kieran.
Farooqi looks around the room as though expecting performers to come out at any moment. "Have you noticed anything ... unusual about this train thus far? Anything that ... sticks ... in your mind?"

Roll Psychology,Farooqi looks both worried and unsure. He seems to want to believe Kieran that this is no big deal but someone's gotten him spooked.

PRESENT: Charles Gavigan, Farooqi Al-Rassam, Durante Pontarelli, Erminia Pontarelli, Kieran, Magdelena Bartenstein, Johannes Sprech.

Kieran replies to Farooqi, "Well I was in a rush to get to the train before it left after a business contact failed to arrive on time in Paris, so these last few hours have been the one brief time where it's hasn't been hectic for me. This is my first time traveling on this train but aside from the slight amount of lightheaded feeling about the time I got to the corridor going to the sleeping car, I've not seen anything odd so far. Tell me, what have you noticed?"

Wolfgang enters the Smoking car with Elena Orloff on his arm, greets those present and looks for a suitable place to sit.

Elena smiles and says hello to the others in the car, and she also looks around for seats for their group. "We're in luck," she says, "the performance hasn't started yet."

There are plenty of couches about the place. The likeliest spot for the performance is probably beside the piano so their best bet would be to sit down around there. It seems most people didn't get the flyers about the performance because the place has mostly cleared out, leaving only a couple handful of folks to see the show. Then again everyone would get a chance to spot the flyers on their compartment doors as they go to bed so perhaps a few will return.

Listen Check for Anyone Other Than Kieran,[b]Farooqi's[/b] gaze lingers on the two German speakers at the bar a little too long before drifting back to Kieran. "I have seen a German archaeologist called [b]Schiller[/b] become catatonic for no reason I can see. Perhaps poison or a drug? Such an esteemed fellow is unlikely to suffer epilepsy and even the still and silent form of epilepsy doesn't last so long. One Slavic woman accosted another German - a doctor - in Latin before fainting dead away. These may be coincidences but in today's climate I think it best to be careful ... especially when we cross over the border into Germany."

Elena takes a seat near the piano. She can get a good view from here, but she can't hear all that much.

Kieran looks around the area to see if anything seems amiss to him, then he replies to Farooqi, "Thanks for the information & those events are a bit odd and something to get concerned about. One sounds more like some kind of shock which I've seen happen to people before in a fight where a friend of mine saw his brother get shot & the man was just standing there in shock for a while until we could snap him out of it as we couldn't save his brother. Maybe something about or on the train or this part of the country is just creating extra mental stress on everyone & it's just a matter of time? I've no clues yet on this but I'll definitely look around to see if it's something just on those people or something we all should watch for."

Wolfgang joins Elena by the piano.

Listen check,[dice]0[/dice]

Russian,Isn't that the man that foppish Brit was looking for?

Russian,[color=darkred]"No, he was looking for the other one, [b]Amadi[/b],"[/color] replies [b]Elena[/b]. [color=darkred]"They do look alike, though. I think they are father and son. In any event, I told him that my best guess was that he was here, but he is not."[/color]

Wolfgang smiles at Elena's comment.

Russian,Do you care for a drink while we wait?

Russian,[color=darkred]"Thank you, I would,"[/color] says [b]Elena[/b]. [color=darkred]"I'd like a brandy, please."[/color]

Wolfgang goes over to the bar to order a brandy and a dry vermouth and then heads back to where Elena's sitting.

Russian:,[color=#0000BF]There you are. Cheers! To [b]Stranger[/b]s on trains![/color]

Elena takes her glass and clinks it with Wolfgang's, grinning.

Russian,[color=darkred]"I'll drink to that!"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"Na zdarovya!"[/color]

Elena raises her glass and takes a drink.

"Anybody in here a doctor?" asks Jonathan as he drags the conductor into the car. "This fellow does not seem to be in full control of his faculties."

"Dr. Bedel is around somewhere," says Elena. "I last saw him in the first sleeping car, after he helped Herr Schiller back to his compartment."

"Thank you my lady," Jonathan Parker replies. "I think I'll just leave the man here. He has been muttering something about Yellow Sea lions and some stones in the corridor. I'm sure that he'll come to his senses...ehhh....eventually. I think. Just wanted to make sure that he did not harm himself in his stupor."

Jonathan Parker sets the conductor down on a seat and leaves.

Wolfgang gets up and walks over to the conductor.

"You vere gutt to bringing him heres. Ve vill looking after ze conductor until you returning."


Wolfgang leans close to the conductor, listening to his breathing and checking his pulse.

First Aid roll-success,[dice]0[/dice]

Elena looks at the conductor, trying to see if she recognizes him.

OOC,Have I seen him before? Is he the conductor from the Jeanette sleeping car?

Monsier Stephane Thayer from the Jeanette Sleeping Car blinks blearily at them. "Unh, my head.... I have the most piercing head ache. I think I need to have a moment to sit down."

Wolfgang,he seems fine. His pupils are a little dilated though.

Wolfgang frowns pensively.


"I fear you may having ze light concussions. May I examine ze scalp?"

Wolfgang starts feeling the man's head (if he concedes), his fingers running lightly over his skull to look for the bump he is expecting there to be.

"You should sitting down in ze darkness, ze pain in your head willing go away if you do so."

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. A bartender works his magic at the bar which stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), with a pianist playing piano at the other end of the car alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar.

Durante and Erminia Pontarelli speak together in low voices in Italian, gazing sidelong at a lonely Magdelena Bartenstein who seems to be desperately trying to ignore them.

Charles Gavigan, a gentleman in an expensive suit, remains on his bar stool with Johannes Sprech, watching the conductor head toward the dining car.

Farooqi Al-Rassam sits on a couch furthest away from everyone else, looking up at Kieran.
Farooqi smiles grimly. "Perhaps you should speak to Lord Linscott? He will be returning here shortly with my son. Hopefully he will arrive before things get any worse."
Monsier Stephane Thayer shakes his head a little after Wolfgang checks, in vain, for lumps. "If you'll excuse me, I'd better go see the Train Manager. I'm rather sorry to have disturbed your rest. I am, of course, at your service. It must just be a little migraine. Please, if you would wait here I'm sure the puppet show will commence shortly. Please enjoy the onboard entertainments." He says it all a little stiffly, obviously trying to cover up the aches and pains, before starting down the corridor to the Dining Car.

PRESENT: Charles Gavigan, Farooqi Al-Rassam, Durante Pontarelli, Erminia Pontarelli, Kieran, Magdelena Bartenstein, Johannes Sprech, Stephane Thayer, Wolfgang Ritter, Elene, Mr. & Mrs. Roby.

Kieran replies to Farooqi while taking a seat nearby, "Thank you for this conversation & how Lord Linscott might provide some further illumination on the events of the train. I do enjoy a bit of travel that not only charges the body but the mind as well. Tell me what do you know Lord Linscott? The name sounds familiar but I think I've only heard of him in name a few times here or there but I know nothing of him."

Farooqi nods. "Good to hear you're willing to keep an open mind. I don't rather know how to describe the fellow.... He's my son's friend. They met at university. It was mere happenstance that saw us on the same train heading to Istanbul."

"Take care," says Elena as the conductor leaves. She turns to Wolfgang. "I remember him from the corridor where I saw the flyers. He was affected by them too."

Wolfgang gives Elena a look of concern and he puts his hand on her arm.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Are you feeling these pains too?[/color]

Elena smiles at Wolfgang.

Russian,[color=darkred]"No, I'm fine, thank you,"[/color] says [b]Elena[/b]. [color=darkred]"I just felt compelled to write what I wrote, and when I was done I was back to normal."[/color]

Wolfgang nodded, though he looked far from reassured.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]All right, just be careful. Something's going on, I just know it, but I can't put my finger on what it is.[/color]

He relaxes in his chair and has a drink.

Jonathan bursts into the room panting. Recognizing Wolfgang from before, Jonathan Parker runs towards him.

"Quick!" Jonathan hissed. "I found another one, MUCH worse than the conductor-you have to help."

He glances fearfully behind him.

Jonathan's arrival is punctuated by the sound of unrestrained laughter as Lily rushes into the room. As she sees all the people gathered in the car, she comes to a halt and her laughter dies down to a giggle. "Oh," she says, hand over her mouth as she trembles with mirth, "I'm so sorry, how embarrassing. I think I must have frightened Mr. Parker."

Elena looks at the new arrivals alertly, taking a sip of her drink as she observes them.

Wolfgang veers up and grabs Parker by the arm.

English roll,[dice]0[/dice]

"Vhat? I not understanding vhat you are say."

He offers Parker his drink in an effort to calm him down.

"Here, having zis for ze nerves. Vhat is ze matters?"

"No drink, no not now!" Parker hisses before leaning forward to whisper into Wolfgang's ear.

"I found her in a corridor... Looking deeply into one of those flyers. I asked her for assistance regarding locating Dr. Bedel and...uhh... She responded cryptically before beginning to act in a rather unnervingly erratic manner. I tried to lead her here like I did the conductor...when she suddenly gave chase laughing and cackling like a madwoman or a witch!"

Elena,[b]Lily[/b] seems to be in control of herself, save for the laughter she can't quite stifle. She doesn't seem sorry at all about having frightened [b]Mr. Parker[/b]--if anything, she [i]enjoys[/i] the fact that he seems so afraid of her.

"Mr. Parker, really now, there's no need to make a fuss! I thought you were playing with me when you ran away!"

Elena,Even though Parker appears jumpy and frightened, his eyes continuously darts from side to side, continuously scanning the room as if searching for an escape route. You would almost think that he's somehow used to being chased, if it wasn't for the fact that his skin is drained of color. Even though he appears to glance back towards Lily, his eyes actually are focusing somewhere behind her: towards the doors to the Smoking Car, towards the Lounge. He doesn't appear to be actually frightened of her.

"You don't have many acquaintances, do you, my lady?" Parker says.

Elena speaks to Wolfgang.

Russian,[color=darkred]"He acts like he is terrified of her,"[/color] she says, [color=darkred]"but it is really something else, something back the way he came. She seems to have enjoyed chasing him and giving him a fright, but other than her barely controlled laughter she seems all right now."[/color]

To Jonathan she says: "Really, she seems harmless now. Surely you can't be afraid of her? I know those flyers can have an effect on people, but it is only temporary."

Jonathan's eyes snap to Elena's.

"And could you clarify that, perhaps? You two seem to be more aware of things going on in this train...perhaps next to the Robys, and I want to know what the hell is going on in this train before I encounter another person affected by these...flyers... Of yours. Perhaps if they are causing health issues, they should be removed?"

Wolfgang looks at the Lounge Car with some concern and then back to Elena.

Russian:,"[color=#0000BF]Isn't she the girl that went with dr. [b]Bedell[/b]? This journey is getting weirder and weirder, Lena, and I'm not sure it is the sort of weird I like, especially this close to Germany.[/color]"

Turning back to Jonathan, Wolfgang tries to put a more soothing tone in his voice.

"Listening, you should calming downs. Tell vhat is happened and vhy you runs away from zis girl. Unt ve are not more aware, ve are just keepink a level head. Zhere is no need to panicking."

Psychology (60%) on Lilly and Jonathan,Lilly [dice]0[/dice] Jonathan [dice]1[/dice]

"I already told you what happened!" Jonathan hisses. "If you cannot help me, then I must simply..."

Jonathan suddenly shakes his head, as if having an internal conflict, before leaning down to whisper quietly.

"If I may ask... Why exactly are you traveling through the Orient Expess? Your accent implies you are German, but you speak Russian and disapprove of the Nazis."

Wolfgang,[b]Lily[/b] seems to be in control of herself, save for the laughter she can't quite stifle. She doesn't seem sorry at all about having frightened [b]Mr. Parker[/b]--if anything, she [i]enjoys[/i] the fact that he seems so afraid of her.

Lily finally manages to get ahold of herself and stops giggling. She turns to Wolfgang with a wry smile.

French conversation,[color=#800080]"Do you speak French, sir? [b]Mr. Parker[/b] insulted me, turned around and asked for my help, then decided he didn't want it and offered to walk with me to the puppet show. Then he started running away from me! Can you believe it?"[/color]

Her tone is melodramatic at best.

Wolfgang,Her telling is obviously biased in her favor.

Gavigan rises from his stool to walk over towards Parker with a furrowed brow and the confident, slightly confused, air of an important figure who believes he truly is owed an explanation. "Excuse me, sir. What exactly is it that you accusing my sister of being?"

Parker,please roll under your POW. If you succeed, you feel the heavy weight of his pointed stare but remain uncowed. If you fail, you feel cowed and intimidated by the weight of his stare.

Lily,your brother isn't angry. If anything, he's just picking on Parker because you seem to have been doing so. Call it fraternal love.

Psychology,his gaze seems oddly intense but otherwise he doesn't seem particularly angry. More amused.

Keeper,[url]http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4368860/[/url]. Time to sell off some contraband tiara to some rich upperclass british twits.

"Why Mr. Gavigan!" Jonathan Parker twists around to face Charles, his face beaming a radiant smile that betrays none of the fear that he just showed Lily. "I have been waiting for an opportunity to finally speak with you ever since I laid my eyes on you on this train. Such a coincidence that a meeting with your sister would facilitate this. My sincerest apologies regarding the whole 'running away from your sister' business. "

"See, sir, I may have insinuated that a certain somebody on this train had the fashion sense of my grandmother when she was a dashing young lady. I suppose that Miss Gavigan assumed that this certain person was her. Unfortunately, I did insinuate in a rather unflattering way in retrospect, I admit. But is not the Victorian Era when the British Empire was at its height? Its power making Chinese Emperors on the other side of the globe submit? Speaking of clothes, I must ask: do you buy your sister's clothes for her? Or do you allow her to buy one from a catalog? It would be rather difficult to acquire such dresses today, I imagine!"

He quickly turns to Wolfgang. "Could we discuss some matters together? Later in private before the Puppet Show?"

"The flyers are not mine, Mr. Parker," says Elena. "I've just seen what they can do to people. Otherwise, I don't know any more than you do. That's why I came here to the puppet show, so I could see what this is all about. It's actually overdue to start, which is odd." She observes Gavigan with interest.

Wolfgang acknowledges Lilly's explanation.

Heavily accented French,His French is about as sketchy as his English. "[color=#0000BF]I seeing, zis is all very peculiar, non? I vill going talk vith ze gentleman, voulding you being so nice as to accompany my guest in my abscence?[/color]"

Wolfgang gets up and nods at Jonathan.

"I zinking ve had better talk now, before ze show commenced. Vould you care for ze bar or ze Lounge car?"

He turns to Elena with a smile.

Russian,"[color=#0000BF]I'm going to see what's wrong with him and see if I can find Dr. Bedell in the process. Will you be all right? [/color]"

"Lounge Car will do," Jonathan said. He quickly turns to Mr. Gavigan.

"I must apologize, Lord Gavigan, but I must take my leave. I have a piece of jewelry, however, that I believe will work nicely as a wedding gift for a woman beloved by an important man such as yourself. I shall talk to you soon."

Jonathan gets up from the table and walks swiftly towards the Lounge.

Lily nods at Wolfgang.

French Conversation,[color=#800080]"Of course, sir."[/color]

She raises an eyebrow at Jonathan as he speaks. Her bewildered stare follows him all the way out the door.

Keeper,Lord [i]Gavigan? Wedding gift?! Presumptuous little... I'm not even engaged! Thank you [/i]so kindly[i] for reminding him, you blasted sycophant![/i]

Gavigan looks amused. "I like him. He has a certain ... ecccentric charm." He gives Lily an amused smile. "Though a wedding present ... is there someone your eye on here?"

Lily responds with a saccharine smile of her own. "Oh, Charles, we've only been aboard a few hours! Besides, it's hardly up to me. Someone will take an interest when they take an interest."

Keeper,[i]Oh no. Oh dear, oh no... I mustn't panic. Show no fear, Lily.[/i]

Kieran looks some at the new arrivals as they come into the smoking car while continuing the conversation with his new friend & takes a bit of a drink from the drink he ordered.

Elena nods to Wolfgang.

Russian,[color=darkred]"I'll be fine, [b]Wolfgang[/b],"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"I'll see you soon."[/color]

Wolfgang nods and leaves the Smoking Car for the Lounge Car.

"Dasvidanja."

Gavigan smiles faintly at her. "Why, my dear, that's not exactly true. If you take an interest in anybody, you let me know, and I'm sure an agreement can be made."

Lily stares blankly at her brother for a few seconds, then starts laughing again, more subdued this time. "You're so serious all the time, sometimes I forget your sense of humor! How silly, I almost didn't realize you were joking."

Keeper,[i]Would he suffer a stroke if I actually told him? Ha! Hilarious, but too much of a risk to even consider.[/i]

Gavigan laughs along with her, before becoming very serious himself. "No one is too good for my dear little sister. You are twenty one now. I mean to see to it that your requirements are met."

"I only meant that you wouldn't want my husband to love me any less than you do," Lily says, finally deciding to find a place to sit near Elena. She throws Charles a reproachful look. "And I will not have you strong-arming some poor frightened man into marrying me!"

Gavigan merely chuckles and returns to sit next to Johannes Sprech.

Elena gives Lily a sympathetic look. "Your brother certainly seems to be...formidable," she says.

"He only wants what is best for me," Lily sighs, fiddling with the clasp on her purse. "But... I would prefer to find love on my own. If that's possible."

She slowly blinks at Elena and rests her chin on her hands. "And who knows? The Orient Express is full of fascinating people. With a little bit of luck..."

Elena smiles. "That's the right attitude," she says. "The Orient Express is a great place to find love. I've already met someone interesting."

"Oh?" Lily sits up straight and folds her hands neatly in her lap. "That must be exciting. Of course, I'm sure you have no trouble finding admirers."

"Thank you," says Elena. "I don't think you'll have any trouble either. You're attractive, and you're a lot younger than I am. The real problem might be finding too many."

Lily blushes and looks away modestly. "Miss Orloff, really, you're too kind."

"I but speak the truth," says Elena. "If you want to attract a man, what you need most of all is confidence in yourself. And please, call me Elena."

Lily smiles and sighs with mock resignation. "I suppose I have no choice but to accept your good opinion of me... Elena. If only all the world's gentlemen were more like you."

"Thank you again, Lily," says Elena. "They're not all like me, no, but some are. I'm sure you'll find one."

"Would you mind if I asked who is lucky enough to have earned your attentions?"

"Not at all," says Elena with a smile. She lowers her voice. "It is Wolfgang. He is like nobody I have ever met, and he is interested in me as well."

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. A bartender works his magic at the bar which stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), with a pianist playing piano at the other end of the car alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar.

Charles Gavigan, a gentleman in an expensive suit, remains on his bar stool with Johannes Sprech.

Farooqi Al-Rassam sits on a couch furthest away from everyone else, looking up at Kieran.
Farooqi smiles grimly. "I hope my son gets here soon. Or perhaps he has already helped Lord Linscott deal with those sock puppeteers."

PRESENT: Charles Gavigan, Farooqi Al-Rassam, Kieran McLaughtery, Elena, Lily Gavigan, Johannes Sprech, Mr. & Mrs. Roby.

Elena listens to Farooqi and Kieran, hoping to hear more.

"I wonder what's delaying the show," mutters Lily before turning back to Elena with a smile. "He does seem like a nice man. I'm happy for you."

"Thank you, Lily," says Elena. "I'm not sure why the show hasn't started yet, but going by what those two gentlemen are saying, it sounds like it may have something to do with Lord Linscott. The show is already half an hour overdue, and the bar closes in another half hour, so it sounds as though it won't happen tonight."

"Lord Linscott? I don't believe I've met the man, but he sounds like someone important." Lily shrugs and looks over at the bar. "What a shame. I was curious to know how they were going to portray 'the romantic misery of the aristocratic classes' with sock puppets."

Elena displays an amused grin. "Yes, I was interested to see that too," she says. "I've never met Lord Linscott either, nor do I know who he is. The name sounds English, though."

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. A bartender works his magic at the bar which stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car), with a pianist playing piano at the other end of the car alongside a gap about as wide as it is long which is used as an impromptu dance floor on occasion by those enjoying the bar.

Charles Gavigan, a gentleman in an expensive suit, remains on his bar stool with Johannes Sprech.

Farooqi Al-Rassam sits on a couch furthest away from everyone else, looking up at Kieran.
Farooqi mutters in a low voice that one can still easily hear now that the pianist is playing a low tune. "It seems he has dealt with them ... I'm impressed."
Mr. Roby rises to his feet. "I apologise. I had arranged for my children to put on a play for your enjoyment but it seems that they have been delayed." He glances Farooqi's way. "We'll have to adjourn to tomorrow, perhaps after lunch? I must go." With that he heads out into the Lounge Car.
The German fellow stubs out a cigarette in an ash tray at the bar counter.

German Conversation,"I'm surprised that the lord went to the trouble of stopping that play. I wonder if he knew a bit more about it than I would have assumed? I must make a point to meet this lord."

PRESENT: Charles Gavigan, Farooqi Al-Rassam, Kieran McLaughtery, Elena, Lily Gavigan, Johannes Sprech, Mr. & Mrs. Roby.

"Good night," says Elena as Mr. Roby leaves. She turns to Lily. "Well, this is probably a good time to turn in, but I want to see Wolfgang first. I wonder what's been keeping him?"

"Must be a very riveting conversation with Mr. Parker," Lily says with a nod. "Are you inviting me to come along?"

"Of course you're welcome to come with me," says Elena with a smile. She stands up and leads the way back to the Lounge Car. "Let's go."

Lily smiles back, gets up from her seat, and turns to give her brother a brief wave goodbye before following Elena.

Cecil walks over to Herr Sprech and Charles Gavigan, "Good evening again, apparently the puppet show's been postponed until tomorrow. But I'm still interested in Miss Shefira Roash's collection; as are my friends here; Mr Amadi Al-Rassam and Mr. Charles Belanger. Charles, Amadi, Mr Gavigan, the archeologist chappy I was telling you about. And Herr Sprech." He stops, seemingly puzzled for a moment, "I'm sorry Herr Sprech, I can't remember what line you are in? Wasn't it manufacturing; preserves, jams and marmalade, that kind of thing?" He asks innocently.

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. A bartender works his magic at the bar which stands on one side of the car (closest to the door to the Lounge Car) while the pianist picks up his sheet music and closes the piano.
Charles Gavigan[/url], a gentleman in an expensive suit rises from his seat at the bar. "I'm very sorry, but that isn't something that can be arranged at this time. Perhaps tomorrow?" Heads toward the door of the Lounge Car and waits for his companion.
Johannes Sprech smiles at him. It's a cold, thin smile. "I'm an archaeologist as my father was. My current ventures generally lead me to Egypt. Regrettably I must return to my compartment as this Social Car is closing for the evening.
Farooqi Al-Rassam rises from the couch with a concerned look in his eye as he nervously waits for the other two men to leave so he could approach his son.

"Of course, maybe we can meet over breakfast?" Cecil bows his head as the two men depart. "Goodnight and sweet dreams!"He calls after them. Once they have left he leads Amadi and Charles over to Farooqi.

The door to the Lounge Car opens and Lily walks in, white as a sheet, occasionally casting wide-eyed glances over her shoulder. She blinks at the bar stool where Mr. Gavigan previously sat before she notices him standing right there. "Oh. There you are. Are we going back now?"

Charles Gavigan nods. "Yes, Lily. Let's go to bed."

Charles Gavigan and Johannes Sprech leave.

Lily follows obediently.

Cecil watches them depart. "That young lady looks as if she's just seen a ghost." He frowns, thinking back to how he felt earlier and also wondering about the relationship between Gavigan and her; he's sure they weren't so closely connected earlier in the evening. He turns to Farooqui, "Sir, what's happened? You seem somewhat alarmed?"

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. The bartender tidies the cups and seems quite content to let them take their time to leave.
Farooqi gives a pointed look in the bartender's direction. "I think that after all of this excitement it is time for us to finally get some sleep." Then he seems to remember himself and turns to introduce the men. "Lord Linscott, this is Mr. Kieran McLaughtery. Mr. McLaughtery, this is my son Farooqi, his friend from university, Lord Cecil Linscott and a newfound friend aboard the train. Mr....." He looks to Cecil to furnish him with a name.

PRESENT: Farooqi Al-Rassam, Bartender, Kieran McLaughtery, Amadi Al-Rassam, Charles and Cecil.

... "Charles Belanger. Charles, this is Mr. Farooqui Al-Rassam, Amadi's father. A pleasure to meet you Mr. McLaughtery." He bows briefly to Keiran. "I agree sir. It's well past my bed time. Shall we retire to the sleeping cars, each peeling off to our slumber as we reach the cabins? " Cecil grins and then yawns rather theatrically. "'There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep.'" If everyone is ready to leave he leads them towards their cabins.

Farooqi nods. "Agreed."

The group follows Cecil out into the Lounge Car, Kieran included.

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table. The bartender tidies the cups and seems quite content to let Schiller cross without question, giving him little regard other than a raised eyebrow.

Gerhard Schiller enters the Smoking Car, coming from the Dining Car. Notably, he is alone. He very calmly finds an empty seat and retrieves a silk cigarette from a silver cigarette case, lighting it and taking a few deep drags.

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table.

Yigcredible,The bartender looks a little surprised to see him walk in from the Dining Car but he doesn't say anything ... instead he finishes cleaning one of the glasses and then checks the clock ... 11:10. Oddly enough there is sunlight coming in through the windows ... wasn't it 8PM the last time he'd looked? Or close to it? [b]Schiller's[/b] tummy growls. He hadn't even had the chance to eat! What happened last night? Had someone drugged him?

The bartender leaves the Dining Car briefly to head into the Lounge Car, he returns a few moments later.

Elena enters the car and finds a seat, hoping she has not missed the beginning of the puppet show.

This sophisticate carriage contains a long bar staffed by a bartender at one end and it opens its doors at 10AM to allow entrance to the Dining Car if need be although it doesn't serve alcohol until midday at which point the bar remains open and staffed until midnight wherein guests can mingle, listen to music, dance, and drink either on stools at the bar or on long couches upholstered in brown that face each other over the central aisle with a polished mahogany coffee table between them and a set of lamps on tables between each couch to provide additional lighting on top of the dim overhead lighting if need be. The couches are quite comfortable and the room is always nicely warm. Oftentimes this carriage is filled with the heady scent of cigarette smoke and ashtrays are plentiful on each table.

Schiller sits in the Bar Car while the Roby family finish putting together their puppet show design, having pulled the pieces from a larger suitcase. Every so often, Mr. Roby looks around at the nearly empty Bar Car and sighs heavily. He clearly expected a larger group for the performance. In forty minutes, lunch will be starting. Will he even have enough time to stage the performance if he waits much longer?

Elena approaches Schiller and sits near him.

French,[color=darkred]"Good afternoon, [b]Doktor Schiller[/b],"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"How are you doing?"[/color] She glances over at the puppet stage. [color=darkred]"It appears the puppet show has been delayed yet again."[/color]

Wolfgang enters, looking somewhat troubled. His face clears considerably as he sees Elena and moves to sit by her, nodding a greeting to Schiller.

English YES-FINALLY!!!,[dice]0[/dice]

"I'm terribly sorry to be late, have I missed anything?"

"You've missed nothing," says Elena, smiling to see Wolfgang. "The puppet show appears to have been delayed again. I think they're waiting for more people to show up. How did things go with Mr. Parker and that other fellow?"

He looks around and the rather empty car and smiles.

"I don't think we'll get more people than this here either way."

He frowns, obviously not too happy about what happened in the other car.

"The meeting was rather awkward and I'm not sure if it was worth the bother. Khan, the German-speaking man, accused Parker of shadowing him and Parker just denied. Then they just phased out and stared at each other."

"Strange," says Elena. "Well, if they don't start the show soon, they won't have enough time. Lunch will be served before too much longer." She takes out her cigarette holder and places a cigarette in it.

Wolfgang shrugged.

"I don't know if I'd mind terribly, I'm famished."

"Well, we still have about forty minutes left to wait," says Elena, checking her watch. "They don't start serving until one." She holds out her cigarette or a light.

Wolfgang smiles.

"Well, I hope for them it's a short show then."

He took out a match and struck it, holding it out to Elena.

"Thank you," says Elena, lighting her cigarette. She leans back and inhales deeply from it.