Play@YSDC

The Dining Car is an illustrious affair of white tablecloths, gleaming silverware, crystal wine glasses and friendly waiters as well as a Maitre D' who will greet you and guide you to a table with a query about what you might like for dinner though he regrets to inform you that the First Service (for the numbered compartments) won't occur until 19:30 and that Second Service (for the alphabetical compartments) won't occur until 20:30. If you aren't scheduled to be part of the First Service then you are politely offered a refreshment and snack in the Bar Car while you wait with a polite but firm insistence that you will need to soon leave. Otherwise, you are allowed to be seated though regrettably all they can do for now is take your order. You can choose to be seated at a table for two or a table for four and as there are two services (neither of which are currently occurring), there's no fear that you will be forced to share your table. The three-course lunch and four-course dinner are lavish affairs judging from the menus and guests are expected to make an effort when dressing for the occasion. The curtains are tied back to reveal the Parisian cityscape as you sit at your table. Naturally the three waitors are all available to fill your drinks and ensure that you are comfortable while you wait. A red curtain at one end of the car lead to the Kitchen Car. Naturally the train is not yet moving nor is there anyone currently waiting in the Dining Car.

Charles enters the dining car and takes a quick casual look around. Charles looks for the Arabic man who recently passed through the lounge car. If he is sitting down, Charles asks the maitre d' for a seat across the aisle from the man - close enough to engage in a conversation, but not too close as to seem strange.

The Arabic man is about to sit at a table for four so Charles must sit at a table for two to be next to him. The man does acknowledge him with a smile and, seeing his openly friendly expression, stands once more to offer his hand in a shake. "Good evening, my name is Farooqi Al-Rassam." He has a pleasant Arabic accent and a clear grasp of the English language. He is also impeccably dressed in an easygoing and quite rich sort of way.

Elena walks into the dining car and waits for the rest of her group to catch up with her.

The Maitre D greets her as she waits. "Table for 2 or 4, mademoselle?"

"Four, please," says Elena.

So am I also! I have more hungry zan zinking of.

He joins Elena and Johnny as they sit down at their table, greeting the other dinner guests with a friendly nod. He extends his hand to Johnny:

"Ve have not make ze introduction, no? Wolfgang Richter, by origin of Munich, but ..living.. in Spain for passing years now."

After shaking the man's hand, he smiles at Elena.

"If I may being so open, Orlov is ze very specific name for a voman. Are you Bulgarian?"

OOC,anyone entering this thread in the next five posts may read this as it will take about that long to resolve.

A little girl enters the Dining Car alone and waits coyly by the doors until the Maitre D approaches her.
"Hello Fraulein Bartenstein, my name is Monsieur Vincent Rosseau, and I will be your Maitre D for today," said Monsier Vincent Rousseau, ushering her over to one of the tables. He seems all the more warm and sincere with her than he had with even the other passengers. It is also interesting that he has chosen English rather than French or German. "We have prepared for you a wonderful table for two over here. Might I enquire as to my lady's preferences for food? Do you prefer sweet or savoury? Might I take the liberty of selecting for you our most delightful of meals?"
Fraulein Bartenstein stares at him in astonishment then giggles nervously. "Oui! Oui! I would like that." She has a German accent but she pronounces both the French word for yes and the English quite well. She gazes around the Dining Car as though she had never before seen such luxury before looking over at Monsier Vincent Rosseau, suddenly apologetic for her distraction. "I would like some water, please."
"Ah yes, of course," said Monsieur Vincent Rosseau, snapping his fingers to summon over another waitor. "Monsieur Mullins, please, our finest vintage."
"Right away, Monsieur," said Mullins, clicking his heels together and heading off to fetch some water.
"Now is there anything else I may do for you?" asked Monsieur Vincent Rosseau. "Anything at all? Please don't hesitate to call on me."
"Your water, Fraulein," said Mullins, returning with a flourish, a grin and a wink to pour the water. "It is our finest vintage, as requested."
Fraulein Bartenstein giggles over her water, blushing a deep shade of crimson.

Charles accepts the man's hand and smiles when he replies. "Pleased to meet you sir, my name is Charles Belanger. What brings you on the Orient Express?"

Farooqi Al-Rassam has a good, firm handshake. "I thought it best to ride this lovely train before the likely war puts an end to it. I collected my son from England not too long ago and am hoping to check on my real estate and furniture business in Istanbul before returning to my home city. And you?"

"No, I was born in Russia," Elena tells Wolfgang. "My true family name is Orlova, but I use Orloff as a sort of nom de plume. I'm a travel writer, you see."

Wolfgang's face brightens and with a big smile, he releases a stream of

Fluent Russian with a slight Muscovite accent,[color=#0000BF]My sincere apologies, [b]Elena Orlova[/b], but your [i]nom de plume[/i] had me fooled. It is always the sincerest of pleasures to find someone to speak Russian to. You write? This can be no coincidence, I study literature![/color]

He laughs joyfully.

Fluent Russian with a slight Muscovite accent,[color=#0000BF]You must let me read your work some day![/color]

He bows his head to Johnny:
"My apolow-gies, it is happy to speak a good language. Very exercising to speak unfamiliar language, no?"

"If yall will excuse me. I am starting to get a little...train sick." Johnny said before heading to his compartment.

Elena gives Wolfgang a wide grin and speaks to him in fluent Russian, also with a hnt of a Muscovy accent, but mixed with other subtle nuances that are hard to place.

Russian,[color=darkred]"That's all right,"[/color] says [b]Elena[/b]. [color=darkred]"Your Russian is excellent! It is good to speak in my mother tongue with someone. It has been a while since I've had an article published in a magazine, but that will change after this trip. I haven't written any books as yet, but I am considering it. Perhaps you could proofread for me."[/color]

She turns when Johnny walks away and speaks to him in English. "Good evening, Mr. Rheticus," she says. "I hope you feel better soon."

Wolfgang bids Johnny a restful repose in his heavily accented English and then relaxes back in his seat, happy to not have to speak a language he isn't too fluent in, and maybe even happier that the table turned into dinner for two.

Fluent Russian with a slight Muscovite accent,[color=#0000BF]Really? You are serious? I am deeply honoured, [b]Elena Orlova[/b], and happily agree. Are you travelling to Russia as well, or are you still gathering data for your writing?[/color]

.
Schiller arrives, checking his ticket to ensure that he qualifies for First Service due to his numbered compartment in the Jeannette car. He scans the room and examines how the tables are arranged. When approached, he requests a table for two. He smiles approvingly at the view of the Parisian sights visible from the windows.

Elena replies in Russian:

Russian,[color=darkred]"Yes, I am planning to go to Russia after Istanbul. I was thinking about a nice boat ride across the Black Sea."[/color]

In English, she says to the Maitre D' "We'd better make that a table for two, please. Our friend will not be joining us after all."

Russian,[color=#0000BF]That is my exact plan! I plan to visit a friend in Moscow and hope to find a position there on the ComIntern board. I have never been there and I'm very anxious to see what it is like. I have been told that Gorky Park is breathtaking in the evening.[/color]

Wolfgang gives a curt nod at Schiller as he passes and then looks back at Elena.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Have you seen the park, Elena? Is it as beautiful as they say?[/color]

The Dining Car is an illustrious affair of white tablecloths, gleaming silverware, crystal wine glasses and friendly waiters as well as a Maitre D' who will greet you and guide you to a table with a query about what you might like for dinner. You can choose to be seated at a table for two or a table for four and as there are two services (neither of which are currently occurring), there's no fear that you will be forced to share your table. The three-course lunch and four-course dinner are lavish affairs judging from the menus and guests are expected to make an effort when dressing for the occasion. The curtains are tied back to reveal the Parisian cityscape as you sit at your table. Naturally the three waitors are all available to fill your drinks and ensure that you are comfortable while you wait. A red curtain at one end of the car lead to the Kitchen Car. Naturally the train is not yet moving nor is there anyone currently waiting in the Dining Car. Due to the surprisingly small number of bookings for this trip diners have been given the option of eating during either the First or the Second Service, as they please.

Currently the Dining Car has grown full with a number of individuals who have come for the First Service. Wolfgang and Elena sit at a table for two. Schiller sits alone at a table for two. Farooqi Al-Rassam sits at a table of four, inviting Charles to sit with him, his son Amadi and their friend, if Charles would prefer. Bartenstein - a girl of around 12 - sits at a table for two and seems to be getting fussed over by the waiters more than a child of her age normally would. The handsome young man who would have lost his wallet if not for Johnny sits alone at a table for two as well.

The other noticeable passengers out of the throng include a black family of two men, one woman and a little girl at a table for four who speak in French about the train's history; a typical nuclear family of four including an older father, plain wife, young girl and even younger son who speak in English about the sights they will see; the honeymooners met at the cafe who sit at a table for two and speak in French professing their adoration for such a fancy train; and the rather grumpy and stern-looking Meditteranean couple also glimpsed by several passengers at the cafe. There is no sign of the mysterious fainting woman who must still be in her cabin nor the man she had spoken to though occasionally the nuclear family of four mention the duo and wonder at the cause of the altercation.

The entrees arrive at the tables in beautiful arrangements and the Dining Car is soon filled with the aroma of delicious meals. Passengers were given a choice from five options including Little Neck Clam Cocktails, Caviar de Belugon, Terrine de Foi Gras, Plover Eggs and Smoked Salmon Balmoral. The current eminent chef working in these kitchens obviously has an interest in both seafood and New York cuisine.

Elena orders the caviar, then resumes her conversation with Wolfgang.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Oh, yes, [b]Wolfgang[/b]!"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"It is every bit as beautiful as you've heard. I grew up in Moscow, and I visited Gorky Park on numerous occasions. It's been too long since I've been there. I'm sure that with your background you'll have a good chance to get that position. One thing to keep in mind is to have a positive attitude. They'll like confidence."[/color]

After ordering the salmon, Wolfgang continues his conversation with Elena, enraptured by her enthusiasm. His eyes almost sparkle as he imagines the sight.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]What delight that must have been! Oh, to walk on the banks of the Moskva River on a summer evening...[/color]

He laughs and leans back in his seat.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]You must forgive my musings, I have been reading to much Chekov, I think, and the company is at least as enchanting too.[/color]

.
Schiller orders the caviar. When the waiter brings him his meal, he stops the man, leans in and asks quietly in German, "Who is that?" He attempts to discreetly indicate the 12-year-old girl who is being fussed over more than usual.

Mullins pauses at the question, covering his hesitation with a quick top up of Schiller's glass before answering. "That is Fraulein Magdalena, monsieur. She is travelling alone and so we are making sure that she feels welcome."

Two handsome and immaculately dressed young men wind their way dextrously past the tables and serving waiters. The first looks in his early twenties and may be Iraqi, the second is older, looks very English and is in formal evening wear. He is obviously in a very good mood. They both head to Farooqi Al-Rassam's table and sit down.

Elena smiles at Wolfgang.

Russian,[color=darkred]"You are very kind,"[/color] says [b]Elena[/b], [color=darkred]"though there is no such thing as too much Chekov. Perhaps we will get the chance to walk on the banks of the Moskva one evening before the end of this summer."[/color]

The plate of caviar is placed in front of Elena and she begins to eat, savoring every bite.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Paris is lovely for a holiday, but it is still very good to go home. What did you do during your stay in Paris?"[/color]

Wolfgang sips his wine and then eats some salmon, with a rather content smile. He did not miss the "we" in that remark.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Paris is lovely, but I did not spend much time here vacationing. After Casado's junta, I managed to flee north with my unit before his negotiations with Franco were complete. We had a hell of a time crossing the Pyrenees, and when we finally had we found the French army waiting. They rounded up refugees and put them in camps. Some of us managed to flee and luckily I had some friends in Toulouse. I stayed with them for a while and then moved up to Paris. I lived on the left bank for a bit, making some money with translation. But you can imagine that people aren't too keen on translating German literature or letters any more with the political unrest...[/color]

He smiles a sad smile and has another drink.

Russian,[color=#0000BF] But here I am again, telling sad tales in the presence of a beautiful woman. You must think me an old bore. Please, tell me a tale of your travels, it will ease my mood, no doubt.[/color]

As they sit down, Cecil says to Amadi, "I'll tell you about it later." He then asks Farooqi Al-Rassam, "Good evening Mr. Rassam, would you be offended if I order some wine for myself? I find dinner just isn't the same without it." He looks around the dining car smiling, content in his anticipation of a fabulous meal.

Elena takes a sip of wine before continuing to speak.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Well, I was in London a few years ago,"[/color] says [b]Elena[/b]. [color=darkred]"I had an amazing time there. Many of the sights there are monuments to imperialism, yes, but there is still a sort of rugged beauty in them. I went to the Tower of London, which was impressive, though not as gorgeous as the Kremlin with its domes. I got to see the Crown Jewels during the tour. The guards at the Tower are called the Yeoman Warders. They're also known as Beefeaters, but nobody is really sure why."[/color]

Cecil,Passengers were given a choice from five options including Little Neck Clam Cocktails, Caviar de Belugon, Terrine de Foi Gras, Plover Eggs and Smoked Salmon Balmoral so just pick which one is your favorite and assume it it served to you.

Farooqi Al-Rassam finishes his quick conversation with Charles with a handshake and then sits down at his table, turning his attention to Cecil and Amadi. "But of course! I wouldn't wish to deprive you of your traditions." He smiles as the Smoked Salmon Balmoral is placed before him. "The cuisine aboard this train is a delight as always!"
Amadi Al-Rassam looks a little longingly at Cecil's glass but says nothing for now, merely tucking into his Plover Eggs.

*******

A little boy and young girl from one of the tables for four slip over to Magdalena's table and stand politely by until she looks over at them.
"Father says that we might sit with you, if you like," said the oldest girl in a British accent. "My name is Harriet and this is my brother, Henry. We could get a larger table and eat together, if you like. We don't mean to intrude but it might be a lot of fun."
"That would be nice," says Magdalena with a shy smile and a German accent. "I am Magda and I am happy to meet you." She asks one of the waitors to move her dish and he does so with a flourish, quickly installing them at another table.
"I'll go ask that other girl," says Henry, heading over to the table of four French Africans. "Excuse me, sir, madam. My name is Henry Roby. Pleased to meet you. I'd like to invite your daughter to eat with us as we've got another spare seat at our table."
"Nice to meet you Henry, my name is William Hijazi," says the man in a French accent, shaking the boys hand. "Very pleased to make your acquaintance. And this is my daughter, Nafy. Nafy, don't be shy and go sit with the other children."
Nafy lowers her head and shyly gets out from the table, heading over with Henry and chewing her thumbnail as she does so. She sits down quietly and looks up at them from under big, long lashes.

Wolfgang appears to be too absorbed by his conversation with Elena to pay much attention to the other passengers.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Ah London! I have never been there in the flesh, but I have wandered its streets countless times with the likes of Tiny Tim and the Artful Dodger. I suppose that with the coming war, it will be some time before I get there. [/color]

He takes another sip of wine and gazes out the window for a moment.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Do you always travel alone, Elena?[/color]

Cecil signals to the wine waiter, "my usual please." And looks with relish as his Smoked Salmon Balmoral is served. "Great minds and all that, Mr. Al-Rassam. I'm not sure when I'll get to taste this again. The Cairngorms are getting further away by the minute." He winks at Amadi and says, "I can recommend the pear juice at this time of year." As he eats his salmon, he frowns, "This tastes a little unusual."

The reverend-doctor entered the Dining Car, half expecting it to be crowded but to his relief it was not so. He nodded and smiled at the other guests as he quickly wandered over to a table meant for two, for he was not the type to expect to be asked to join anyone, nor would he be so rude as to interupt anyone's meal with such a request. He marvelled at the lavish decor and the great view of the cityscape through the nicely adorned and gilded windows. He started feeling a bit underdressed but to his surprise, no one seemed to give him much notice other than to return a nod or smile as he ventured to his seat. He got the attention of one of the staff that catered to the train passengers and asked for some chilled water. He was parched after sweating so much and also felt quessy since he had not eaten much since he had made the ocean voyage. "My son" Dominic said. "Could you please give me your recommendations on what to order and bring me some chilled water as well?" Dominic asked. Dominic was also struck by a familiar voice in the background but was a bit unsure of himself to even think he could know anyone on board this train, and some of those speaking did so in a language he could not understand.

Listens Intently,[url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4201950/]1d100=39[/url]

Dominic Pius,[img]http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y271/vivamort/9a744e86-6041-4877-9939-8b09618a763f_zps1aa96268.jpg~original[/img] Dominic Pius,Ph.D., Reverend-Professor of Psychology, Boston College on Holiday Description: Male, Age 38, 5'8" Tall, 165 lb., Blonde Hair, Blue Eyes, wears modest attire Demeanor: Mild mannered, speaks little among strangers, always polite, good listener

Russian,[color=darkred]"Usually, yes,"[/color] says [b]Elena[/b], [color=darkred]"but I often meet many interesting people on my travels, present company most definitely included."[/color]

Elena smiles.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Meeting new people is one of the things I enjoy the most about traveling. What of you? Are there others in your life? You mentioned your friends in Toulouse. Do you have family as well?"[/color]

Wolfgang smiles at the compliment and finishes his salmon as he listens to Elena.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]I do enjoy travelling and I enjoy it a great deal. It gives me hope and I find it heart-warming to see that everywhere men and women unite against oppression, to support their neighbours and to give each other comfort and joy. And meeting fresh faces is one of the greatest joys one can encounter.[/color]

He washes down the salmon with another sip of wine and rummages through his coat pocket, taking out a worn, yellowed photograph.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]The woman is Rivka Bronshtein, she was a reporter, and the boy is her son Aaron...Aaron Ritter.[/color]

Wolfgang takes another drink.

After explaining to Mr. Al-Rassam how he is heading to Istanbul on business matters himself, Charles observes the newcomers and listens to their conversation. Hearing the Iraqi-looking fellow's interest in wine, he attempts to insert himself into the discussion.

"Pardon me," he begins, "I do not mean to interrupt, but I am delighted to see another Englishman on board the train and a wine lover no less." Charles gestures to his bottle he brought with him from the Lounge Car. "Perhaps you would like to try a glass of this St. Emillion I ordered earlier. It is an absolutely stellar example of the appellation and should be shared with those who like wine." Charles smiles broadly. "Ah, my manners. I've already introduced myself to your friend here, but my name is Charles Belanger. Perhaps my bottle and I could join you three?"

Elena admires the picture.

Russian,[color=darkred]"He must be your son too, then,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"I can see the resemblance. Why are they not with you?"[/color]

OOC,Sorry, Charles, I wasn't sure if you were seated at the table or not or i would have introduced earlier.

"Mr Belanger, How do you do? a pleasure to make your aquaintance." says the Englishman. "I am Lord Horfield, May I introduce Amadi, Mr. Al-Rassam's first son. Unfortunately, due to their faith, neither Mr. Al-Rassam or Amadi Al-Rassam may partake of alcohol." He looks apologetic but it is uncertain who to. "I, however, could join you. A Bordeaux would be too much for my salmon but I'll happily forgo the fish to try it." He pushes his salmon to the side and signals for a fresh glass. "I haven't tried anything from St. Emillion for a while. I hear '34 will be a very fine vintage for the region. Are you in the wine business Mr. Belanger?"

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Last year, when I was still in Madrid, I got a letter from Rotterdam. There was no return address. Apparently Rivka had sent Aaron to visit her parents in the Netherlands. She felt that the situation with the [i]sturmabteiling[/i], with the brown shirts was getting out of hand. She, of course, wanted to stay in Germany, too cover what was going on. She was detained and... [i]kristallnacht[/i]...[/color]

Wolfgang taps the picture with his finger, his voice constricted by emotion, though his expression remains calm.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]After Ritka's parents heard what had happened they went into hiding with friends of theirs. I don't know where they are, I just write letters for my son, and hope I can hand them to him one day.[/color]

He finishes the last of his wine and leans back in his chair, his voice calm and composed.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]They are why I fought and why I will keep fighting, [b]Elena[/b].[/color]

Wolfgang looks around for a moment, trying to establish if anyone is listening in to their conversation.

Wolfgang rolls psychology,I'm rolling psychology rather than Spot Hidden, because he is looking more at body language than for prying eyes. [dice]0[/dice] Success!

He lowers his voice and whispers.

Russian plus Listen roll to overhear,[color=#0000BF]That is why I'm really going to Russia,[b]Elena[/b], I want to fight those bastards, and there's only one nation strong enough to do so. I sure hope that cease-fire is just a way to build up strength.[/color]

For the German speakers overhearing the conversation,There are two distinct German words in the Russian dialogue. One being [i]Sturmabteilung[/i], the other being [i]Kristallnacht[/i].

Elena puts her hand on Wolfgang's and speaks in a soft, soothing tone. She also expertly examines those around them to try to determine if anyone is paying them undue attention, lowering her voice to a whisper.

Russian plus Listen roll to overhear,[color=darkred]"I understand completely,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"I am so sorry about [b]Rivka[/b], and I hope your son will be safe. And you are absolutely right. You are more right than you know. As soon as I heard about the pact, I knew that was why. The imperialists and the fascists will fight and weaken each other, while Russia will grow stronger. When we are ready, we wil strike. But be careful to whom you repeat this, even in Russia. This is something that must not become common knowledge, lest the enemy learn of it and strike first, before we are ready.[/color]

She looks Wolfgang in the eyes.

Russian plus Listen roll to overhear,[color=darkred]I know the right people there who can help you join the fight. When we arrive, I will introduce you. Someone with your knowledge and talents, a capable fighter with a keen mind who speaks German as a native and has local knowledge, will be in high demand."[/color]

Wolfgang turns his hand around and takes Elena's in his, squeezing gently as he returns her look.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Thank you, [b]Elena[/b], thank you. Words can not express what that means to me.[/color]

He looks out the window again, his eyes unfocused as if he's seeing into a glorious future and he smiles.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]It would seem that I'll have plenty of time to help you edit your book. If I might presume on the pleasure of your company en route to Moscow, that is.[/color]

Show for the two Russian speaking Psychology rolls,find this fellow - http://www.callofcthulhu.org.uk/pbp/viewtopic.php?f=261&t=4246#p146293 - seems to be paying more interest than most. He sits on a table for two behind them. Whether he's straining enough to hear their whispers or not is a whole other story. If he did hear their rather conspirational dialogue, he's not showing any surprise. Other then him, everyone else seems deeply embroiled in their own conversation. Except for Magda, the little girl, who visibly flinched at the word Kristallnacht. The man who recently entered and sits alone appears to be generally listening in that polite I-Don't-Know-Anyone kind of way but the vacant look he occasionally casts in their direction suggests he either does not speak Russian or sits too far away to overhear anything of import.

Amadi Al-Rassam politely avoids looking at the wine glasses and instead turns his attention to Charles as he takes a seat. "It looks like the four of us will be continuing on to Istanbul. That's good to hear. With so few passengers aboard this train it would be a shame if we ended up with only one sleeping car finishing the journey. I suppose that at least with such an intimate gathering of passengers we will have a chance to get to know each other very well."
The waiter recommends the Plover Eggs to Dominic.

Elena squeezes Wolfgang's hand back and whispers again.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Don't look now, but I think we are being watched,"[/color] she whispers. [color=darkred]"We should only discuss certain matters in private."[/color]

She returns her voice to normal volume.

Russian,[color=darkred]"You are most welcome, [b]Wolfgang[/b],"[/color] says [b]Elena[/b]. [color=darkred]"The pleasure would be mine. Of course, I have not actually begun to write the book yet. I probably won't start that until I'm home."[/color]

Wolfgang nods slowly, trying to not let the added caution seep into his voice or body language. He reluctantly lets go of Elena's hand as the waiter comes to refill their glass, nevertheless he manages to kindly thank the man in broken French.

Russian,[color=#0000BF] There is something about the way you say it that has an almost mystical nature to it. Tell me of your home, [b]Elena[/b], I want to know everything.[/color]

Colman walks into the dining car and politely asks the maitre d' for a table for one, preferable somewhat close to another populated table.

Elena laughs merrily.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Everything?"[/color] she asks. [color=darkred]"That could take some time...so I'd better get started. Red Square is something you simply must see. It is beautiful all the year round. In fall, the leaves of the trees turn many lovely colors, and in winter, there is a coating of snow over everything. The square gets its name not from the color of the bricks and not as a reference to Communism, but because in Russian the same word can be used for 'red' and 'beautiful' - and it certainly lives up to its name."[/color]

The Maitre D nods at Colman's request, naturally taking his desire to sit near populated tables as a sign that he would like to meet new people. "If you would like an introduction, I am sure I could find someone who might like to sit with you. There are many people here who are eager to make new acquaintances." He pauses, thoughtfully. "It is almost time for main meals. Would you prefer to start with your entree and take your meals later than the others or would you prefer to go for the main meal? While we haven't yet received your order, I am sure there is something nice that could be served shortly, courtesy of the chef."

Colman only,There is no sign of Kieran in the Dining Car and you didn't see him in the Lounge Car and Piano Bar Car which you passed on your way here. He must be in either the Private Car or someone else's compartment.

"I think I'll be fine with just a table and a Martini please. Very dry, lots of olives. Thank you," Colman says.

"As you wish, Monsieur," says the Maitre D, leading him to a table for 2. After ensuring that Colman is settled and given his martini, the fellow heads off to attend to any further business that the others might have for him.

After thanking the maitre d', lighting his pipe, and taking a few sips of his martini, Colman leans over to whomever is closest to his table and says "Quite the train, isn't it?" Hoping to make some smalltalk to pass the time.

Dominic hails the Maitre D and asks for the eggs but instead of aspic jelly, he decided on a bed of rice. Thinking his digestion would appreciate this slight change to the meal would go a long way toward feeling better about this vacation. He sipped his water, not wanting to get any of the condensation on his clothes. Dominic overhears the new arrival to the car and responds in kind. "Yes it is my son. Would you care to dine with me so that it is less so? " The odor of the pipe does not bother him, for it is less offensive than most other tobacco products he had the misfortune to encounter in the past. Dominic would enjoy having someone to talk to on this train and hoped he would not dine alone on his first meal of the journey.

Dominic Pius,[img]http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y271/vivamort/9a744e86-6041-4877-9939-8b09618a763f_zps1aa96268.jpg~original[/img] Dominic Pius,Ph.D., Reverend-Professor of Psychology, Boston College on Holiday Description: Male, Age 38, 5'8" Tall, 165 lb., Blonde Hair, Blue Eyes, wears modest attire Demeanor: Mild mannered, speaks little among strangers, always polite, good listener

He smiles, warmed by Elena's enthusiasm.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Is it truly as grand as I have heard? I've been told that if you stand with your back against St Vasili's Cathedral, you can't make out the other end of the square.[/color]

Cecil savours the St. Emillion, "It's very fine, it's a shame you can't try it." He says to Amadi mischievously. As he drinks, his ears pick up a voice he seems to recognise, then he loses it in the blur of the din of diners and clattering cutlery. "How long do you plan to stay in Constantinople?" He asks Farooqui. "Any sign of you-know-who?" He asks Amadi.

"That would be just grand Father." Colman says as he puffed his pipe. Some companionship might help liven up the evening. He extended his hand toward the priest for a handshake. "Pleased to meet you sir. Colman Fallon: University of Oxford assistant history professor and, at the moment, tourist. What might your name be Father?"

The Dining Car is an illustrious affair of white tablecloths, gleaming silverware, crystal wine glasses and friendly conversations in Italian, French, English and Russian with a touch of German here and there. The four-course dinner is a lavish affair judging from the various entrees that have been eaten and are currently being swept aside by the polite waitors. The curtains are tied back to reveal the Parisian cityscape as you sit at your table. There is a small partition that divides the smoking from the non-smoking halves of the train. A red curtain at the far end of the car lead to the Kitchen Car. Due to the surprisingly small number of bookings for this trip diners have been given the option of eating during either the First or the Second Service, as they please.
Currently the Dining Car has grown nearly full with individuals who sit in the two sections of the Dining Car. Mention if you don't like where your character is positioned and I may swap it around. The corridor isn't as wide as indicated on the floorplan because this floorplan wasn't originally representing the right type of Dining Car.

The soup arrives at the tables and the Dining Car is soon filled with the aroma of delicious meals. Passengers were given a choice at the start of their dining from five options including Green Turtle au Sherry, Consomme Froid Madrilene, Onion Soup or either Hot or Cold Consomme and their chosen plate is soon settled before them. Dominic is given his entree as the soups arrive for the others but will be given his soup the moment he is done with his entree.
Farooqi smiles mysteriously. "That does depend upon my business associates. Things tend to move at their own pace in Turkey as opposed to the greater efficiency one might find in Iraq. Also, the city hasn't been called Constantinople since 1930. It's now called Istanbul. I know. Not as romantic a name as the original."
Amadi has a quick scan of the passengers in the Dining Car. He is in prime position to see through the partition and down toward the entrance side of the Dining Car from his position on the right. "No, there's no one we have spoken about though I do believe I recognise someone I once met at Oxford. I'm no good with faces, however, compared to yourself so I'm unsure if I do know him." He sighs and runs his finger around the mouth of the glass of water he has before him as the waitors place the Green Turtle au Sherry before him. "I had hoped the mysterious person from the Private Car might be in attendance for the first Dining Service but if they are then they are not particularly noteworthy or noticeable. We may need to find an excuse to remain for the Second Service."
The Maitre D smiles at Dominic's request and promises to see what he can do.
The children at the corner table seem to be eagerly chatting away about their favourite stories from nursery rhymes to Enyd Blyton to other novelists. Nafy seems to be the most shy about it but apparently she is an avid Enid Blyton reader. Her favorite is Adventures of the Wishing-Chair. Henry asks in a good-natured enough manner whether the black washes off of Nafy and whether she makes more like paint through her skin because her hands are paler than the rest of her. Nafy seems to find the idea funny and shakes her head, giggling. Henry seems a bit awestruck about her dark skin.

Dominic rose a short amount to greet the newcomer and extended his hand in friendship as well. "Nice to me you lad. My Name is Professor Pius, Dominic Pius. It is so very nice to meet a fellow traveler and teacher. "Please sit and enjoy the comfort. Today I am just another tourist, please just call me Dominic." The older man then smiled. It was a genuine grin, one that was pleasant and also engraciating.

Dominic Pius,[img]http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y271/vivamort/9a744e86-6041-4877-9939-8b09618a763f_zps1aa96268.jpg~original[/img] Dominic Pius,Ph.D., Reverend-Professor of Psychology, Boston College on Holiday Description: Male, Age 38, 5'8" Tall, 165 lb., Blonde Hair, Blue Eyes, wears modest attire Demeanor: Mild mannered, speaks little among strangers, always polite, good listener

OOC,I see by the seating chart that my character could have very well spotted an associate of his that he did not know was on the train. How to proceed?

Colman grins and shakes Dominic's hand warmly. He then walks over to the priest's table and joins him "I appreciate the hospitality." Colman says as he eases his way into the chair facing Dominic. "If you don't mind me asking Dominic, have you met a certain Kieran Mclaugherty while on the train. He's a old acquaintance of mine, but his presence has alluded me for this entire trip thus-far."

Elena's voice fills with excitement and nostalgia.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Oh, it's true,"[/color] says [b]Elena[/b]. [color=darkred]"Red Square is about two city blocks across. The Kremlin's domes are simply a magnificent sight, too. I've never been to Münich before, [b]Wolfgang[/b]. What is it like?"[/color]

Wolfgang smells the Madrilene consommé and lets out an appreciative sigh.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Munich is a difficult place, difficult but beautiful. It is a city of extremes, it can't do just a little of anything. The Marienplatz is a great deal smaller than the Red Square, but it is very beautiful, opulently decorated and rimmed with fantastic medieval buildings. [/color]

He smiles, obviously happy to share the memory.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Did you know that Vladimir Iljitch Lenin lived in Munich for a while? We even were a Soviet Republic for a few months, but then the Freikorps put an end to that. And a few years after that, the nationalists decided to start their bid for power in our city...[/color]

Cecil leans forward to Amadi and says conspiratorially,
"I can assure you the illustrious person is NOT here partaking in this fine repast." He grins and whispers,

Amadi,[color=#0000BF]"I can't see any beautiful lady of a certain middle-eastern style here at all.[/color]"

He leans back and drinks some wine, watching for Amadi's response.

Amadi's eyes widen for a moment and he whistles low under his breath. "Any names?"

Kieran Mclaugherty? Dominic repeated the name to make sure he had understood how it was pronounced. he thought for a brief moment, Nano-seconds really, and answered. Sorry Colman, I am not familiar with that name. You are the only person I have met so far that is not part of the staff of this train. But the day is still young and mayhap he could be at one of the various stops along the way."

Dominic Pius,[img]http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y271/vivamort/9a744e86-6041-4877-9939-8b09618a763f_zps1aa96268.jpg~original[/img] Dominic Pius,Ph.D., Reverend-Professor of Psychology, Boston College on Holiday Description: Male, Age 38, 5'8" Tall, 165 lb., Blonde Hair, Blue Eyes, wears modest attire Demeanor: Mild mannered, speaks little among strangers, always polite, good listener

.
Schiller is in the midst of finishing his caviar when he hears the men in the tables behind talking, seemingly in English. Although not familiar with the language, he does recognize the word "professor" when it is spoken by both men. Remembering his promise to himself to meet some fellow academics on this trip, he wipes his mouth with his napkin, stands and approaches Colman and Dominic and waits for an ideal time to introduce himself. Addressing them both, he says in German: "Guten Abend an euch beide. Durch Zufall haben entweder Sie sprechen Deutsch?"
.

German,Good evening to you both. By chance, do either of you speak German?

.
He also adds quickly, speaking in French: "Ou peut-être l'un de vous parle français?"
.

French,Or perhaps one of you speaks French?

Dominic stared at the new person standing beside his table. He had no idea what the man wanted for he could not speak the language that issued forth upon his arrival. Dominic just smiled and then made a gesture of one not understanding, he simply shrugged his shoulders. "Forgive me son, I do not understand what you are saying." he studied the man as he stood there and figured he was a European, possibly educated, and well dressed. His mannerism did say volumes about his demeanor, so the Reverend decided he was being polite and introducing himself rather than trying to accost the two gentlemen that sat together at the table but was unsure.

Anthropology roll,Fail!,[url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4207190/]1d100=98[/url]

Dominic Pius,[img]http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y271/vivamort/9a744e86-6041-4877-9939-8b09618a763f_zps1aa96268.jpg~original[/img] Dominic Pius,Ph.D., Reverend-Professor of Psychology, Boston College on Holiday Description: Male, Age 38, 5'8" Tall, 165 lb., Blonde Hair, Blue Eyes, wears modest attire Demeanor: Mild mannered, speaks little among strangers, always polite, good listener

Elena tastes her Hot Consomme, blowing on it first, before continuing.

Russian,[color=darkred]"I had heard about Lenin being in Munich,"[/color] she says, [color=darkred]"and I also knew about the Soviet Republic there in 1919. I learned about it from my mother, though she had been in Berlin rather than Munich. She actually knew Rosa Luxemburg. I'd heard about the Putsch in 1923, too. That should have been the end of those reactionaries, but they don't know how to give up. Still, their end will come."[/color]

Cecil leans back, sensible of his manners. "Indeed I do." He smiles, "Let's talk about it later." He then hears a gentleman talking in German. He uses the interruption of the arrival of his Consomme Froid Madrilene to have a look round the carriage without offending Mr. Al-Rassam any further and then raises a questioning eyebrow to Amadi.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]I will drink to that![/color]

Wolfgang raises his glass.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]To the end of the [i]Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei[/i], to the end of fascism and that we may be instrumental it bringing it about![/color]

Some German in the conversation,Wolfgang obviously mentioned the [i]Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei[/i] in his toast.

Elena raises her wineglass and clinks it with Wolfgang's.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Death to the fascists!"[/color] she says.

Elena takes a drink.

He takes a drink and puts down his glass with a big smile on his lips.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]It feels like we have made a pact, [b]Elena[/b], an unbreakable vow! I knew I was bound to meet some interesting characters on this train, but I could never have guessed that they'd be as fascinating as you, [b]Elena[/b].[/color] The way he says her name almost makes it seem like he takes joy in the sheer pronunciation of it. [color=#0000BF]Now please, let us keep our minds off of war and fighting for just tonight. I have told you almost everything there is to know about me, but apart from your travelling nature, your love of Moscow and that you have eyes deeper than the depths of human imagination, I know very little about you.[/color]

Colman's confusion turns to a mild understanding when the gentlemanly character who had approached the table starts speaking french. Though his french was atrocious, Colman might be able to understand the man's short statement.

Speak Other Language French,"Success!, [url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4210150/]1d100=20[/url]

"This good man just asked if either of us speak french." Colman says to Dominic, who appears confused by the man's question. "I know a smattering of the former."

French,"I speak little bit of french sir. But the french I speak is not very good."

Elena smiles back.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Oh, I'm sure there's more to discover about you too, [b]Wolfgang[/b],"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"It was very fortuitous that we met. Now, I can't tell you everything about myself - a woman has to preserve [i]some[/i] mystery. To really understand me, you first should understand my family, for I am my mother's daughter. My father is a great man as well, a true hero. He fought against the Japanese with great courage, but the Tzar did not give him the respect he deserved. As brave as my father is, he could not win the war all by his own efforts, and so he and his comrades returned home in defeat. He took part in the revolution of 1905, but alas, the time was not yet right for victory then either. He was arrested when that revolution was put down. He spent a few years in prison. I was parted from him for much of my early childhood, first when he went away to war and later when he was locked away, though at least then I did get to visit him sometimes. I still remember going to see him with my mother and brother. I treasured those visits. The fact that I didn't get to see him all the time made the occasions when I did even more precious."[/color]

Italian & Listen Check,"It seems [b]Magda[/b] has made a few friends. Doesn't this seem to be a problem to you?"

Italian & Listen Check,"I see no problems here. Even if they would want to help her, they can't. The Germans would not permit it."

Italian & Listen Check,"So long as she doesn't befriend any Germans of power and influence...."

Italian & Listen Check,"How would she do that? The Germans despise Jews. They wouldn't care to help one. We are her only help. Even if that British family learns of her troubles, they can't help her. Only we can."

Italian & Listen Check,"I hope you are right."

Italian & Listen Check,"Patience, Durante. We should not discuss it here."

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Your father sounds like a good man. Being in a war is one thing and there are few things more horrible, but being imprisoned is about one of them for sure. I couldn't abide being locked up and restricted in my freedom like that. Especially if I had a wife and..a wife and child out there.[/color]

He stops talking for a moment as he gingerly toys with his wineglass.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]You look like quite the fighter too, [b]Elena[/b], but if you take more after your mother, I can't help but wonder what she's like.[/color]

Cecil does not have to look far in his search; the German is standing right next to his own table blocking the aisle quite efficiently and talking to a man across the way. Cecil can't see the man's companion who is hidden by the German's bulk. He continues to eat his soup but winces as he listens to the conversation.

Elena pauses to eat a spoonful of her soup.

Russian,[color=darkred]"It was because of us that my father was able to endure his imprisonment,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"He considers the years he spent there a badge of honor. My mother is a fighter too, in her own way, and I am much like her. There are more ways to fight than with a rifle."[/color]

Russian,[color=#0000BF] I understand his sentiment, [b]Elena[/b], the wounds we bear either destroy us or make us stronger. [/color]

He finishes his soup and puts down his spoon, wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Fortunately, you are right, I am not overly fond of guns, myself. Do they live in Moscow?[/color]

Mr. Roby, apparent father of the little boy and girl, sips at his cup of tea and smiles over his Hot Consomme at his wife. "I had the most intriguing dream last night. I dreamt that we were aboard this very train but rather than riding along the rails it flew with such startling smoothness that it swept the very breath from my lungs. The very corridors were filled with intrigue and menacing human thoughts that strained against each other, each grating along the other's ideologies. I saw a ruby ring - at least I think it was ruby - which blew sandman's own dust into the face of a man in Gestapo uniform. I saw a needle poised against the carotid artery of one of the staff members, though I know not which, while another man dithered on whether he should prevent the act of murder or allow it and as he considered the situation an inverted ankh did glow upon his chest but it did not glow with light but with darkness. A darkness that slithered along his very veins. I saw it upheld in his hands, dangling from the windows of the train, and his eyes reflected the ankh, and he wished to release it and yet could not. I saw a man cowering in the corner while beauty whispered promises of wealth and wonder but all he could see was the screaming of emaciated children held back within barbed wire walls. I saw another who held a box in transit and though he were protected there was another who sought what lingered within it seeking wealth and indeed within is contained wealth but also something startling and then we were careening toward something. Something that lurked upon our destination. And then...."
"And then what?" asks Mrs. Roby in a pleasing Irish (Belfast) accent.
"I woke up," says Mr. Roby.
"Well, I hope you wrote it down in your dream diary," says Mrs. Roby. She has quite an impressed smile upon her face. "That does sound interesting."
"Indeed I did," says Mr. Roby, looking very self-satisfied. "I found it profoundly inspirational."

Elena also finishes her soup.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Yes, they both do,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"I'm really looking forward to seeing them again. What of your parents? Are they still in Munich?"[/color]

Wolfgang smiles as he leaned back in his chair.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]They are still in Munich, yes, and I think they'll stay there for quite some time. They both died very peacefully, before knowing their son went off to fight in some Spanish war.[/color]

He suddenly picks up the word Gestapo from the conversation at the other table and tries to understand the conversation.

Wolfgang tries to understand English (25%),[dice]0[/dice]

Unfortunately, there's too much commotion and he returns to the conversation with Elena.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]I'm sorry, I thought I heard them talk about the German secret police. I'm afraid I'll be on edge until we leave Germany far behind us.[/color]

Whilst listening in on the conversation next to him, Cecil hears something from the table behind him that reminds him of... but he just can't put his finger on it. He finishes his soup and takes a discreet sip of wine.

The third course is brought out to the various passengers which includes a choice of Delice de Sole Victoria, Roast Quail and Garden Salad, Coeur de Filet George VI, Entrecote Steak Connaught, and Broiled Bluefish Baron Brisse. Mm... It smells so good. Finally the Parisian cityscape is replaced by French countryside as the train continues to rattle along its way.

Point about conversations,You don't need to roll a Listen check unless the conversation has it under a Spoiler button. Otherwise it's assumed that it was loud enough to be overheard - at least so far as the NPCs are concerned. The carriage is small enough and there aren't so many people that a confident man talking in a loud voice wouldn't be heard without too much trouble. If you weren't trying to eavesdrop, you might not pick up on what was said until after the word 'Gestapo' but feel free to take onboard anything that was said after that. Of course, if you feel your character was suitably distracted, too far away, etc. you can always use your own discretion on when to roll 'Listen' checks but it isn't necessary from my point of view unless it's Spoilered.

Elena smiles back and selects the steak.

Russian,[color=darkred]"He was just talking about a dream he had,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"He saw a ruby ring, or he thought it was ruby, blow the sandman's dust into the face of one of their men."[/color] She translates the rest of the English conversation for him.

Cecil looks forward to his usual dish of Entrecote Steak Connaught but he notices the German is still blocking the aisle, making it difficult for the waiters to serve, He taps the German on the back, "I say old chap, I do hope you you're not planning to dither there too long; there simply isn't room you know."

Wolfgang listens attentively to Elena's translation, his eyebrow knit together.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]That sounds like quite the dream, looks like someone is very anxious about this train ride or has read to much spy novels. Although the dream diary does make it sound like more of an opium episode than the product of high-strung nerves.[/color]

"I saw a man earlier that I thought I recognised," says Mrs. Roby in a nonchalant way. "Isn't it funny the strange people you meet on trains? I never thought I'd see him again. Kieran Mclaugherty. I must say he's still quite the looker." She flashes her husband a friendly smile in response to his quirked eyebrow. "I'm only teasing, Mr. Roby. You do know I would never stray. At least I hope you do. He was heading into one compartment or another and I thought I heard another Irish voice. It would be nice to speak to some fellow countrymen, though Mr. Mclaugherty wouldn't like you very much at all, I'm afraid. He is very much the firebrand. I do wonder as to his friend...."
Mr. Roby shakes his head and clucks his tongue. "I really do hope I haven't booked such a romantic train ride only to have to share it with an old flame of yours. I wouldn't like to have to get into fisticuffs on the roof of this train. Can you imagine it? I doubt I could hold my own against a firebrand, however. Would it help, do you think, if I stated that I were not a Catholic but something else altogether?"
"It may help very little," says Mrs. Roby. "I doubt it would affect his thinking very much. He thinks of the British the same way that the Germans think of the Jews although I'm sure he isn't as brutal as all that. I hope so anyway. He used to live only a few streets across from this. This was a very long time ago, you understand. Hmm, it might not have been him. He didn't appear to recognise me and a few decades can do wonders for blurring one's memories."

The Dining Car is an illustrious affair of white tablecloths, gleaming silverware, crystal wine glasses and friendly conversations in Italian, French, English and Russian with a touch of German here and there. The four-course dinner is a lavish affair judging from the various entrees and soups that have been eaten and are currently being swept aside by the polite waitors. The curtains are tied back to reveal the French countryside as you sit at your table. There is a small partition that divides the smoking from the non-smoking halves of the train. A red curtain at the far end of the car leads onward to the Kitchen half of the Dining Car. Due to the surprisingly small number of bookings for this trip diners have been given the option of eating during either the First or the Second Service, as they please.
Currently the Dining Car has gone from being a sprawling mass of individuals to a series of clusters as people start trying to get to know each other within the two sections of the Dining Car. The corridor is wider than the Sleeping Car corridor though not by much and the waitors do what they can to move past Dr. Schiller with the third course which includes a choice of Delice de Sole Victoria, Roast Quail and Garden Salad, Coeur de Filet George VI, Entrecote Steak Connaught, and Broiled Bluefish Baron Brisse. Mm... It smells so good. Finally the Parisian cityscape is replaced by French countryside as the train continues to rattle along its merry way. Soon enough the desserts will be served and it will be time to mingle in the Smoking (Bar) Car, converse within the Lounge Car or simple retire to one's compartment to watch the world pass by.

Elena laughs merrily.

Russian,[color=darkred]"I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss it,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"You never know who could be a spy."[/color]

Wolfgang cocks an amused eyebrow as he cuts into his steak. With a lowered voice he playfully asks:

Russian,[color=#0000BF]What do you mean, [b]Elena[/b]? The guy behind me is listening in on us because he's a spy and the Englishman is actually part of some international police looking for people illicitly using opium on trains? How exciting![/color]

He smiles as he savours the steak,

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Besides, if they're spies, I'd love to get them a drink and provide them with some company. It must be a terribly lonely business, spying. Never being able to tell people who you really are, what you really feel...[/color]

Elena begins to dig in to her steak too.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Yes, it would have to be incredibly lonely,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"Imagine having to pretend to be something else all the time, never letting your guard down, lying to people you care about for their own protection. Not a career for the faint of heart. You know, there was a French couple in the café on the platform talking about spies. When the American cowboy entered, the woman thought that [i]he[/i] was a spy. Which is ridiculous, considering his outlandish getup seems designed to draw attention."[/color]

Russian,[color=#0000BF] Sometimes the best spies hide right under your nose. Maybe that was what she was thinking.[/color]

He puts down his cutlery and wipes his mouth and smiles.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]That steak was excellent. I think I'd rather agree with you than with your French woman, Elena. The Americans aren't exactly known for their double thinking talents, least of all Texan cowboys.[/color]

Russian,[color=darkred]"That possibility had crossed my mind too,"[/color] says [b]Elena[/b], [color=darkred]"but it went right out the other side. The best spies are the ones you'd never suspect. You could be talking to them for hours and never know it."[/color]

Elena savors the steak, eating more sedately so she can enjoy every bite.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Yes, the steak is excellent,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"The wine too. The Orient Express always serves the best."[/color]

Russian,[color=#0000BF]I agree. On both counts.[/color]

He washes down the last of his steak with the exquisite wine.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]May I be so bold as to inquire after your plans after dinner, [b]Elena[/b]?[/color]

Russian,[color=darkred]"I was planning to socailize in the Bar Car,"[/color] says [b]Elena[/b]. [color=darkred]"I'd be happy if you join me."[/color]

Once the main meals have been served and consumed, the option for desserts include Corbeille de Fruits, Compote de Fruits, Melon Ice Cream Trocadero, or Vanilla Ice Cream Snowball With Shredded Strawberry Sauce On Illuminated Ice Socle.

Elena finishes her steak and orders the Vanilla Ice Cream Snowball.

Wolfgang orders the fruit corbeille.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Few things would make me happier.[/color]

He lowers his voice.

Russian whispers,[color=#0000BF]I for one would like to know what our friend behind me is about.[/color]

Cecil shrugs as the German stiffly ignores him and orders a Mosel to drink with dessert. As he tucks into his fruit compote he remembers what it was that the dream story reminded him of. He looks hard at Amadi and then says simply, "we've got a few things to discuss after dinner."

"I didn't realise you were so superstitious," mutters Amadi with a teasing smile and a longing look at the wine glass. "But fine, why not? I have a strange compulsion to return to your compartment to discuss matters anyhow." He lifts his gaze off the wine glass, then leans back in his chair. "There aren't nearly as many pretty fillies as I had hoped. That Russian lady over there is quite the doll and there was another I saw who didn't come to dinner but every other woman I've seen seems married. It seems we're very unlucky. There's nothing like conversing with a pretty lady to draw the eye." He slides a glance at his father after his words to see how the man takes it but Farooqi seems to steadfastly ignore the rather crass comment despite his obvious discomfort with it.
Schiller's eyes seem somewhat fixed. Not glazed, perhaps, but fixed. It's as though his mind were trained elsewhere, on some far away point.

Elena nods, a knowing look in her eye.

Russian,[color=darkred]"It seems that someone else is interested in me as well,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"I'll have no shortage of company."[/color]

Wolfgang only half-understood what Amadi was saying, but Elena's prompting made more than enough clear. He laughed as he confidently reclined in his chair.

Wolfgang's English is rather dodgy,[dice]0[/dice]

Russian,[color=#0000BF]I would be surprised if the opposite were true, [b]Elena[/b]. Young wolves are always ahunting, especially if the most beautiful woman on this train appears to be guarded by nothing more than an old lion. I may have the ruffle my manes before too long.[/color]

He raises his hand before you can object.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]I wouldn't want those youngster to hurt their ego's when they find their prey has sharper fangs than they do.[/color]

Elena laughs in delight, raising an eyebrow.

Russian,[color=darkred]"A keen observation,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"It's kind of you to say so, but I doubt I'm the [i]most[/i] beautiful woman on the train. That Frenchwoman I saw at the station is rather attractive, and so is the tired-looking woman who looked to be from Eastern Europe. My best years are behind me, but I've still got some good ones left."[/color]

Wolfgang smiles and shakes his head.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]You shouldn't be so hard on yourself, [b]Lena[/b], you don't look a day over 28. Though the French may have a reputation for beauty, the true connoisseur knows there is no beauty greater than that locked in Slavic eyes. [/color]

He winks playfully and goes on,

Russian,[color=#0000BF]And besides, if you want me to edit your book, you'll have to start taking some confidence in my judgement.[/color]

"I'm not normally superstitious, no, but you have to admit; it's mysteriously coincidental. I wonder if the rest of the dream is just as fanciful. And as for the fair diners in this car, maybe certain young ladies have decided to dine in private; perhaps they are very appreciative of wine but would rather not be seen to drink it in public. Common ground Amadi, the first step in any romance is finding the common ground." Cecil winks at his friend.

He sees Mr. Al-Rassams face and says more soberly, "In theory anyway; 'Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love. --- It is to be all made of fantasy.' Did you get to the theatre much while you were in England, Mr. Al-Rassam?"

"Love is something which blossoms over time between two well-matched individuals," says Farooqi, enjoying his Melon Ice Cream Trocadero. "I am pleased to say that the marriage I have arranged for Amadi is quite a good match. She is a lovely woman with all of the requisite skills necessary for a wife." He tries to hide a smile at Amadi's obvious discomfort. "She will even be boarding this train before we reach Istanbul so you will have an opportunity to meet her."
Amadi attacks his Vanilla Ice Cream Snowball With Shredded Strawberry Sauce On Illuminated Ice Socle with a deep and heavy sigh.

Elena smiles and blushes, eating a spoonful of her ice cream.

Russian,[color=darkred]"You flatter me,"[/color] says [b]Elena[/b]. [color=darkred]"Well, perhaps you are right. Your own looks are quite striking as well."[/color]

He laughs and nods as he takes a few bites of his dessert.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]I have to push the advantage and pleasure of sharing this table with you, Lena. [/color] He uses the Russian diminutive of your name endearingly and then adds with a grin: [color=#0000BF]Now the wolves are still at bay.[/color]

The Dining Car is an illustrious affair of white tablecloths, gleaming silverware, crystal wine glasses and friendly conversations in Italian, French, English and Russian with a touch of German here and there. The four-course dinner is a lavish affair judging from the various entrees and soups that have been eaten and are currently being swept aside by the polite waitors. The curtains are tied back to reveal the French countryside as you sit at your table. There is a small partition that divides the smoking from the non-smoking halves of the train. A red curtain at the far end of the car leads onward to the Kitchen half of the Dining Car. Due to the surprisingly small number of bookings for this trip diners have been given the option of eating during either the First or the Second Service, as they please.

As First Service finishes, the waitors politely collect all of the dishware and give gentle encouragement for people to retire to the Smoking Car for cocktails and a delightful pianist. The various groups arise from their tables and begin to make their way down the aisle toward the Salon Car, talking to each other in such a way that the general burble of noise begins to arise as people compress into the narrow aisle.
Charles Belanger had been sitting quietly at the table, nodding politely along with the conversation but otherwise letting the three men discuss things among themselves, when he finally arises. "Gentlemen, I feel a need for a cocktail," he says. "Perhaps when your private discussions in your compartment are over you might like to join me?" As he turns away from the table he bumps into Schiller from behind and, seeming annoyed at the man for still idling in the way, places his hands on Schiller's shoulders and turns him around. "Now look here, you can't be standing there all day..." He pauses, looking into the man's oddly dilated eyes, and takes hold of the man's jacket lapels, giving them a bit of a tug so as to try to get his attention. "Are you ... quite all right, sir? Sir?" He looks over at one of the nearby waitors who had paused in his clearing duties to note the odd behaviour. "I don't suppose we have a doctor on board, do we?"
Magdelena Bartenstein asks her new friends, "Maybe we could spend some time in the Lounge Car together? I know it's late but we're on a train and ... and isn't it too exciting to go to bed?"
"I'll ask," says Nafy with a shy shrug of a shoulder.
"Father lets us remain awake as long as we please," says Henry confidently. "I'd be glad to accompany you to the Lounge Car."

Spot Hidden at Quarter Normal,You notice Charles Belanger slipping his hands into one of [b]Schiller's[/b] pant pockets from behind and then into his jacket pockets from in front as he circles around to tug on his jacket briefly to get his attention. He then slips his hand into his own pant pockets.

Elena doesn't notice anything unusual as she finishes her ice cream.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Shall we head to the Bar Car now?"[/color] she asks [b]Wolfgang[/b], rising. [color=darkred]"Or would you prefer the Lounge Car?"[/color]

Wolfgang wiped his mouth and got up, offering Elena his hand.

Russian,I propose we go to the Bar, I hear they have a brilliant pianist.

Wolfgang guides Elena through the corridor, with the other people heading to the bar car.

Spot check failed,[dice]0[/dice]

Elena takes Wolfgang's hand and goes with him to the Bar Car.

Cecil keeps his eyes down so not to add to Amadi's discomfort and changes the subject. "Well, that was as delicious as always. Would you like to go back to my compartment, where I can order in some 'coffee'; or go to the bar with Mr. Belanger?" He asks Amadi and Mr. Al-Rassam as he rises. As Belanger realises there is something wrong with the German he squeezes into the aisle and says, "What's up with the fellow? Here, walk him down to the end where there is more room."

spot hidden,Failed.

The four children, Roby family, mediteranean couple and the honeymooners have already left the Dining Car. Somehow the pair who are sat in front of Schiller have been forgotten in all the ruckus as the focus turns squarely on Schiller. Later, if questioned, those who involved themselves with Schiller would have been hard-pressed to say if there had ever been anyone sitting at the table before him. For their part, the pair at the table seem not to have noticed the furore about the German fellow and continue to indulge in light conversation as they finish off the dessert, completely unaware as to how empty the Dining Car is becoming
Charles Belanger nods. "Good idea." He takes Schiller by the arm, "Here we go," and draws the seemingly catatonic fellow down the aisle to the covered compartment.
Amadi looks thoughtful as he also follows the man into the covered compartment. "I wonder what the devil's wrong with him."

And with that, Charles, Schiller, Amadi, Cecil and Farooqi leave the Dining Car and head into the Communications Compartment.

A few other people enter the Dining Car for the Second Service.

The Dining Car is an illustrious affair of white tablecloths, gleaming silverware, crystal wine glasses and friendly conversations in Italian, French, English and Russian with a touch of German here and there. The four-course dinner is a lavish affair judging from the various entrees and soups that have been eaten and are currently being swept aside by the polite waitors. The curtains are tied back to reveal the French countryside as you sit at your table. There is a small partition that divides the smoking from the non-smoking halves of the train. A red curtain at the far end of the car leads onward to the Kitchen half of the Dining Car. Due to the surprisingly small number of bookings for this trip diners have been given the option of eating during either the First or the Second Service, as they please.

As Second Service finishes, the waitors politely collect all of the dishware and give gentle encouragement for people to retire to the Smoking Car for cocktails and a delightful pianist. The various groups arise from their tables and begin to make their way down the aisle toward the Salon Car, talking to each other in such a way that the general burble of noise begins to arise as people compress into the narrow aisle. All except for two men who sit silently at one two-person table and do not interact with any of the waitors or vice versa.

Kieran walks into the dining car & will meet up with the Matire D about catching the end of the second service of the smoking section, I will pull out a pipe from his jacket pocket with his right hand & taping it in his left hand a few times almost absentmindedly while waiting for his food of whatever is available at this late hour. Upon getting seated Kieran will do a friendly introduction to any of the people at the neighboring tables & as well as pulling out a small notebook and pencil to write out a few simple notes, eat his meal while taking the sights of the countryside & getting familiar with all people on the train.

Kieran,sorry that I wasn't clearer but basically it's the end of the Second Service but Kieran has been there since about partway through the start of Second Service as an NPC. He was a bit late, though, so your post still makes quite a bit of sense. I believe he headed in at about 8.45PM. Anyway, I'll give you details on what he observed thus far during that hour and then you can post your exit from the Dining Car with the other NPCs. The car next to this is the Smoking Car. It's all good as there's no other players in the Dining Car thread at the moment. When ready, you move between the cars through posting that you're leaving in this thread and then posting your entrance in another one.

Kieran soon meets a gentleman called Johannes Sprech. A rather determined-looking German who speaks good English and who is largely too busy reading a book with a buff cardstock cover that had something in Arabic written upon it in gold lettering. The book doesn't seem particularly old though if it did have one of those fancy book cover sleeves, it has long since been lost. Since Kieran sits behind him, he can make out the occasional picture of ruins or other digs.

There is a pair of gentleman who sit silent and still at one table and don't even deign to respond to Kieran's greeting. One of the fellows seems familiar to him but Kieran can't quite grasp the memory behind it. Perhaps it's not important? The gentleman doesn't seem to recognise Kieran and makes a dismissive gesture whenever Kieran tries to politely introduce himself.

Well there's plenty of people on the train that might look familiar & Kieran will take a few more notes in the notepad about the travel of just general information or useful things about the train schedule of things like the meals for future reference. After the meal, Kieran will leave the dining car & go to the bar to enjoy a whiskey & engage in small talk with some of the patrons and/or bartender for about a half hour.

If nothing else happens he will be going back to his sleeping cabin & curiously check to see if Wolfgang Ritter is there in the cabin, as we have yet to go through any introductions of any kind, then plan to go to sleep if Mr. Ritter is asleep or not present or willing to engage in conversation at that time.

Kieran enters the Smoking Car.

The Dining Car is an illustrious affair of white tablecloths, gleaming silverware, crystal wine glasses and friendly conversations in Italian, French, English and Russian with a touch of German here and there. The curtains are loosened over each window but the one that still contains two diners who sit before their cold main meals, staring silently across at each other over the table. There is a small partition that divides the smoking from the non-smoking halves of the train. A red curtain at the far end of the car leads onward to the Kitchen half of the Dining Car. There is a murmur of voices from the waitors and cooks as they bustle about finishing off the dishes and cleaning and enjoying the otherwise empty Dining Car.

PRESENT: Colman Fallon, Rev Dominic Pius, Cooks and Waitors in the kitchen car section.

Cecil passes through the dining car still with a thoughtful expression on his face but pulls up sharp on seeing the two seated gentlemen. "I say, Dr. Pius isn't it? We met in London at the RGS lect..." He falters as he realises the man is not responding. "Jumping galloots - it's catching!" He looks hard at Pius' companion but he seems to have gone the same way. Cecil waves his hands past the two men's eyes and looks down to see what they were eating. "It could be the food." He ponders and looks round for the maitre d'.

"Excuse me, Monsieur Linscott," says the Maitr D, stepping through the red curtains that divide the seating areas from the corridor by the kitchen. "The Dining Car is closed for the night though perhaps I could be of some service?"

Cecil smiles worridly. "Ah, Monsier Rousseau, good evening. How are you? Thank you for a fabulous dinner this evening."

French,[color=#0000BF]"Have you seen these two gentlemen; how they haven't moved or eaten their food? Regardez!"[/color]

Cecil waves his hands in front of the men's faces again.

French,[color=#0000BF]"Catano! There is another passenger; Herr Schiller in Compartment G who has also the same problem. Now, I am only suggesting that they might, just might, have had an allergic reaction to something they ate. Can you remember what these three gentlemen had for dinner?"[/color]

"Monsieur Linscott?" says the Maitr D. "Who are you talking about?" He watches Cecil wave his hands in the air and seems utterly confused by this. "There is no one there."

Cecil looks hard at the Maitre D', "By Jove." He breaths. Cecil looks around the table very carefully; for it was here that whatever it was affected the three men, and right under his nose too! "Well, would you mind obliging me with a list of the food and wine that Herr Schiller, The Reverand Pius and his companion ate? I'll be back in a jiffy." He nods encouragingly to Monsieur Rousseau and then heads off to find Amadi in the lounge car.

The Dining Car is an illustrious affair of white tablecloths, gleaming silverware, crystal wine glasses and friendly conversations in Italian, French, English and Russian with a touch of German here and there. The curtains are loosened over each window but the one that still contains two diners who sit before their cold main meals, staring silently across at each other over the table. There is a small partition that divides the smoking from the non-smoking halves of the train. A red curtain at the far end of the car leads onward to the Kitchen half of the Dining Car. There is a murmur of voices from the waitors and cooks as they bustle about finishing off the dishes and cleaning and enjoying the otherwise empty Dining Car.

Cecil and the Maitr D stand in the aisle beside an empty table while Cecil glances under the table, perhaps looking for some lost item.

Cecil only,Everything seemed to be in order until [b]Cecil[/b] peers underneath the table and sees, strapped to the wood with sticky tape, a strangely curved stone that seemed to be carved with both concentric rings and a spiral pattern depending upon how he look at it with some other symbol carved into the middle of it that [b]Cecil[/b] [url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4301655/]doesn't recognise[/url]. There seemed to be a note folded beneath it, pressed against the wooden underside. Staring at the stone seemed deleterious to his mental health though it doubtless contained secrets of it's own. There was no way to take the stone without the [b]Maitre D[/b] noticing however.

Nico Dubois steps into the Dining Car, fortunately distracting the Maitre D for the moment.

Cecil,Conceal check to take the object.

PRESENT: Colman Fallon, Rev Dominic Pius, Nico Dubois, Cecil Linscott, Maitr D AND Cooks and Waitors in the kitchen car section.

Cecil fumbles around under the table.

Keeper,The object seems too firmly stuck to take it quietly. ( [url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4304858/]1d100=75[/url]) So he tries to take the note instead ( [url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4304859/]1d100=41[/url] but bumps his head on the way up.

He comes back up, bumping his head as he does so. As the Maitr D turns round he says, "Ouch. No, no I'm alright; it'll take more than table to knock me out, head like a rock don't you know." He grins sheepishly.

Jonathan Parker slams the door to the smoking room as he enters the dining room. He nearly bumps into Nico as he does so.

"Pardon me, madam," he says. He turns to look at Cecil on the floor.

"And...uhh... Have you lost something? Do you need medical assistance?"

Cecil is holding a piece of paper which he florishes, "Absolutely fine old chap, thank you. Just dropped my notes, ha, ha. I say, are you a medical chappie too? There's a doctor in Compartment 1 of the Jeanette car looking after a Kra - a German fellow who's had a funny turn. You might have a look in on your way by." He stops for a moment and then says, "Would you mind humouring me for just a moment? How many people can you see in the vicinity apart from the Maitr D and myself? Oh, please excuse my manners: Lord Horfield, how do you do?" He introduces himself, stops and grins rather a silly grin.

There's a clunk of something heavy, like a rock, hitting the floor beneath the table.

Jonathan gives lord Horfield a bemused glance as he turned his head at an odd angle. "One, and you seem to have dropped your 'Wallet' as well," he said.

He winked.

He walks over to the Maitre.

"Excuse me sir, but do you know where the medicine cabinet of this train is? I was wondering if you have anything for train sickness," he said.

OOC: For keeper:

"Oh, of course," says the Maitre D. "Please wait here for one moment." He turns and passes through the red curtain partition into the staff section of the Dining Car.

Nico, Parker and Cecil are temporarily alone.

"You didn't actually drop your wallet did you?" Asks Parker.

The slightly imbecile cast falls from Cecil's face and he becomes deadly serious. Looking grim, he says, "You know what happened to the curious cat? The folly of Perspicacity?" He looks carefully at the man before him. "Firstly, may I have the honour of knowing who you are, Sir?"

"Jonathan Parker, at your service sir," Parker says, flashing a smile.

Cecil looks at Parker, "Well Mr. Parker. You are right, I didn't drop my wallet; I found a strange looking rock stuck to the underneath of the table; I was trying to remove it when I bumped my head. However, I feel that one oughtn't to look at it because something dashed odd might occur." He shrugs. "It might be worth retrieving it before Monsieur Rousseau returns." He gestures under the table. "Oh, and tell me, is there anyone sitting at the table that you can see?" He asks strangely.

OOC,Do you have a picture of Jonathan Parker?

Parker raises an eyebrow.

"Well, I do not see anyone here in particular except the lady here," Parker nodded at Nico. "Do you.... see people other than the two of us?"

"And a strange rock stuck to a bottom of the table? How....uh....strange, I guess." Parker scratched his head. "From what I have been hearing, there appears to be many odd things happening around the train.

OOC Physical description:

Nico shakes her head mutely.

"Yeah, I don't see anyone other than the three of us either," Jonathan Parker finished.

OOC,wait do I?

Cecil scratches his head, looking very perplexed. "Well I'll be blowed; I must be going stark raving mad for I see, sitting at this damned table, two gentlemen one of whom I've had the pleasure of meeting before. At the Royal geographical Society in London, so he must be fairly stolid. The Reverend Pius." Cecil puts the paper in his pocket and, looking rather unhappy, he pushes the air about the table, mumbling, "Sorry old chap; got to be done, don't you know."

Keeper,Cecil grabs hold of Pius' jacket and looks inside to see if there's a wallet or something. He then tries Colman.

In a louder voice he says, "You might want to grab that rock before the Maitr' D comes back, Mr Parker; the fellow has eyes like a hawk and he'll never let us leave with it."

Appearance,Lord Horfield wears impeccable English-cut evening wear and expensive shoes. He is very slim and has an eccentric manner. He speaks with an upper-class English accent.

What.

Parker smiled politely. "So... you reckoned that something odd may happen if someone looked at the darned thing... and you want me to look at it. Well, better than some orders I received while in the army, I suppose."

Parker looks under the table.

Parker sees,a strangely curved stone that seemed to be carved with both concentric rings and a spiral pattern depending upon how he look at it with some other symbol carved into the middle of it that [b]Parke[/b]r doesn't recognise. He doesn't get to look at it very long before he palms it. It feels strangely warm to the touch and strangely heavy in his pocket.

Cecil notes,[b]Dominic Pius’[/b] pockets contain a pocket watch, notepaper with the word [b]Kieran – Orient Express[/b] on one page, archidiocese and vatican travel itinerary and vouchers which seem to have detailed (and dull) financial figures for costs. A few pens and pencils. The other man is a [b]Colman Fallon[/b] and he has a tobacco tin and wooden pipe, matches, pocket watch, pocket journal, fountain pen, small book called ‘Tales of Mystery and Horror’ by Edgar Allen Poe.

"Lord Horfield?" Jonathan Parker mumbled perplexedly from under the table. "There appears to be nothing here."

keeper,For some strange reason, Cecil feels compelled to take a personal item from each man; so he takes Domenic's pocket watch and Colman's fountain pen and puts them into his pocket. Whilst Jonathan is busy looking for the rock he takes out the notepaper and reads it quickly.

Cecil puts something into his pocket and murmurs, "Don't worry, I'll look after them until I can give them back to you." To Jonathan he says, "What, no rock? I'm sure I heard it fall to the ground."

"Sir, I don't know what I have heard, but there certainly is nothing under this table and there certainly aren't any gentlemen sitting around this table," Parker said emerging from the table and backing away from Lord Horfield. "Are you sure you do not need medical attention? There is nothing here!"

Nico looks from one man to the other, stepping back into one of the chairs and instinctively sitting down as Parker backs past her.

Cecil puts a piece of paper in his pocket as Parker stands up. He peers at Parker and narrows his eyes, he thinks for a moment. "Well, you could be right; the Maitr D couldn't see anybody either. But I tell you now; I feel as fit as a fiddle." He looks round to Nico. "Madam, am I right in thinking you of the same mind as this gentleman?" He bends down under the table to see if he can find the rock himself.

Nico shrugs prettily. "I don't like to take sides."

The Maitr D returns through the red curtain with a glass of water and three packets of powder. "There you are, sir. Simply mix in one of these satchets every six hours and that should ensure it passes. If you have any further issues or need anymore, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Ah why thank you sir!" Jonathan Parker said, flashing a silly smile. "It would have been embrassing if more people than necessary found out about my weakness. Say is there some kind of warning label or something for this drug? I'm wondering if this thing can cause unpleasant side effects if, say, one drinks it with alcohol."

He swiftly gives a glance towards Lord Horfield bending under the table before fixing his eyes squarely on Maitre.

"It should be fine to mix with alcohol, sir."

Cecil reappears from under the table looking very puzzled. He scratches his head and straightens his tie. "Ahh, Monsiuer Rousseau." He says to the Maitre D, "Can you tell me; have you seen Monsieur Al-Rassam about the place?"

"No, monsieur," says the Maitr D. "Perhaps he is in the Smoking or Lounge Cars?"

"Ahh, yes indeed." He turns and bows to Parker and Nico. "Madam, Mr Parker, toodle pip." And proceeds down the corridor towards the other social cars, frowning slightly.

The Dining Car is an illustrious affair of white tablecloths, gleaming silverware, crystal wine glasses and friendly conversations in Italian, French, English and Russian with a touch of German here and there. The curtains are loosened over each window but the one that still contains two diners who sit before their cold main meals, staring silently across at each other over the table. There is a small partition that divides the smoking from the non-smoking halves of the train. A red curtain at the far end of the car leads onward to the Kitchen half of the Dining Car. There is a murmur of voices from the waitors and cooks as they bustle about finishing off the dishes and cleaning and enjoying the otherwise empty Dining Car.

Parker, Nico and the Maitr D stand in the aisle beside an empty table while Cecil walks away. The Dining Car becomes conspicuously quiet as the Maitre D politely looks at them.

PRESENT: Colman Fallon, Rev Dominic Pius, Nico Dubois, Cecil Linscott, Jonathon Parker, Maitr D AND Cooks and Waitors in the kitchen car section.

"Thank you for the medicine," Parker says, waving the pouches. "I'll be off then."

Parker heads towards the smoking car.

The Dining Car is an illustrious affair of white tablecloths, gleaming silverware, crystal wine glasses and friendly conversations in Italian, French, English and Russian with a touch of German here and there. The curtains are loosened over each window but the one that still contains two diners who sit before their cold main meals, staring silently across at each other over the table. There is a small partition that divides the smoking from the non-smoking halves of the train. A red curtain at the far end of the car leads onward to the Kitchen half of the Dining Car. There is a murmur of voices from the waitors and cooks as they start putting up their bedding and preparing to get some sleep.

Nico finishes having her look around the table before turning and heading out.

PRESENT: Colman Fallon, Rev Dominic Pius, AND Cooks and Waitors in the kitchen car section.

The Dining Car is an illustrious affair of white tablecloths, gleaming silverware, crystal wine glasses and friendly conversations in Italian, French, English and Russian with a touch of German here and there. The curtains are loosened over each window but the one that still contains two diners who sit before their cold main meals, staring silently across at each other over the table. There is a small partition that divides the smoking from the non-smoking halves of the train. A red curtain at the far end of the car leads onward to the Kitchen half of the Dining Car. There is a murmur of voices from the waitors and cooks as they bustle about and converse in the Kitchen Car (which is divided from the Dining Car properly by a red curtain).

There is no one else here. The clock in the corner of the room reads 22:55 and the countryside looks distinctly German. It also seems to have become early morning judging by the quantity of sunshine.