Play@YSDC

SS Galeka, New York - Cape Town

Nigel Blackwell reads the paper and stretches his legs. Sadly, old Jackson had not taken him up on the trip to Damascus. Well, he might tag along on the next trip.

Not a large ship by any standards for an ocean liner, but that means privacy of sorts.

Nigel asks a waiter what time is it and after hearing the question, will read the section of internation news.

"The time is five to six, SIr. World there be anything more?"

Perusing the Friday paper Nigel finds:


June 6th

From The Guardian
Miss Emily Wilding Davison, the militant suffragist who ran in front of the King's horse Anmer during the race for the Derby on Wednesday and was knocked down and severely injured, was still unconscious last night and her general condition had undergone no change.

Prince Albert Frederick George, the 17-year-old son of King George V, and the future King George VI of the United Kingdom, made his first visit to the United States, crossing the border from Canada into Niagara Falls, New York. Prince Albert, who was in Canada with 60 cadets from the HMS Cumberland, wasn't immediately recognized in the crowd, but told reporters later that "This is my first trip to the continent and the first time I have stood under the Stars and Stripes on American soil

The Modest Mussorgsky opera Khovanshchina premiered at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées.

Tsar Ferdinand I of Bulgaria, in another installment of The Ottoman war, warns neighboring states of Serbia and Greece to move their troops out of formerly Bulgarian territories. Will this lead to more unruly tines in Europe? The Balkan area has suffered regional complications since the 14th century.

On the order of Djemal Pasha, twelve patriotic intellectuals were hanged at the square in Damascus this Monday. Following the hangings, fires were reported to have started at three libraries.

ChristofferThomson, newly appointed Air Minister of The Royal Air Force, announces a route to Calcutta via Airship R-100. In light of the unruly times, it is supposed to reinforce the British grip over the world.

"If things continue like this, there will be a war in europe"- thinks Nigel.
Nigel decides to go to the bar and take a drink. And see if there is any pretty girl (but a drink is the priority).

Inside the restaurant section of the ship, a small anteroom is dedicated for serving drinks. A bartender is sending Nigel a broad smile. "Hello, sir. I'm Donny, at your service. A drink? Or..., maybe something else?" The emptiness of the room seems to have made the bartender daring to test the waters. "You need company, right?" He winks at Nigel while letting his index finger trail the bar top. He stops and studies Nigel's reaction to the invite.

-You know, I really like a professional who cares for his client. If more man were like you, this world would be a better place. Yes, I want a drink and some company- says Nigel with a smile...

The smile gets even wider. "Wondeful, Business first, pleasure later. One Singapore Sling coming up." Donny reaches for a bottle of Gordon's and a various other ingredients. "I'm relieved in a half hour. Meet me on B deck, room 14."

A few moments later a tall glass with a pink foam stands before Nigel.

Background info for Nigel Blackwell:

Nigel recently contacted Jackson Elias to head across the globe in a joint project in pursuit of the Shem-Hazzai (“Children of the Dark”) in Damascus, Syria. Nigel has a contact within the Shem-Hazzai.

Nigel drinks slowly. He is apreciating it, because once he will arrive at his destiny, this kind of luxury will be forbiden.

-You know, people doesn't give the rigth value to the small moments of life. Like a nice drink. Or a sunshine with good company. It's only when they risk losing everything that seem to wake up. I have been in places where people has somple lifes. Like in the amazon with cannibals. You start having a different perspective of life.
Nigel continues to digress until it's time to go to the "meeting".

At this piece of life knowledge the bartender nods, "Sunshine...What's your name, dear thing?" Donny lets his hand brush against Nigel's hand. This is when Jackson Elias comes in through the heavy side doors from the promenade deck.

At the small, corner bar a steward is serving someone who most certainly, definitely is Nigel. The steward, a handsome fellow at that, retracts a hand from Nigel's drink and starts swiping the bar top with a cloth. "Ah, another gentleman! My good sir, may I be of any help?"

Nigel greets the newcomer
-Hello there! I'm satisfy you arrived here!

Jackson discreetly ignores the obvious movement by the steward. Blackwell's interests are hardly unknown, just overlooked.
"Damn, Blackwell I thought I might find you here" Jackson nods at the bar with its ostentious decorations. Still looking at the various bottles behind the glass topped bar, it seemed they kept a good supply of high class liquour.
"Scotch on the rocks, and whatever he's having"

"So Nigel tell me is it South Africa or Damascus?"

"Very good, sir." The steward adds one ice cube to a flat bottomed tumbler glass. Then slowly pours a Brown-Forman Tennessee.
Next after that comes a pineapple based gin drink with froth. "A Sling, for you, sir. Enjoy."

-To British East Africa. I have an important business there.
Nigel feels excited for changing to one of his favorites subjects; a misterious adventure.

"So do you want to let me in on that important business?" Jackson picks up the glass, swirls the scotch and downs it in a gulp. The raw liquor feels good, spreading warmth through his system.
He nods to the waiter, "Another".

A short time later the bartender produces a second rye with ice. Served with a wink and a smile.

-Of course. But I prefer not to tell you the details for now. Or you may think it's a joke.

"Okay , maybe later" Jackson turns to the waiter, "What time does this boat sail?"

When Bradley walks up the gangplank of the SS Galeka, he is struck by the apparent disrepair the ship is in. Walking through the deck doors to the restaurant he doesn't find an author, but two, sitting in the small bar, a small anteroom of the restaurant. They are caught up in a discussion while a bartender is preparing two glasses of whiskey.
The two authors are Jackson Elias and his target Nigel Blackwell.

"Ah, another guest!" Donny, the bartender, lets out as Bradley Grey enters the small bar.

"She casts off at 8, sir."

Cearlan,Excuse the Hound of Tindalos: first breakfast then six o'clock. Guess traffic is dreadful on Fridays :D . Or Bradley had some other business on the way.

-Oh, now we are a crowd! Come and make us company!- says Nigel- I was telling the bartender before you arrived, how I was once in amazon with a cannibal tribe.

A I advance into the bar-room I recognise Blackwell from his pictures in the press. Moving forward I extend my hand towards him.

"And you would be Mr Blackwell I assume. I recognise you from photographs of your last Expedition ... up the Amazon if I remember correctly. Thank you!" I add as the steward lays down the glass in front of me.

"I have been sent by your patron, Mr Carlyle, to ensure your safe departure tonight. Sorry I forget myself. I am Bradley Grey - Mr Carlyle's representative." I turn towards Jackson and add.

"Sorry Sir, I did not mean to interrupt the conversation between the two of you ... I don't think I caught your name." I extend my hand towards the debonaire stranger

"Elias...Jackson Elias" he shakes the offered hand then turns to the waiter, "8... am or pm?"

I grasp Elias' hand in greeting.

"Pleased to meet you Mr Elias, I was led to believe from Mr Carlyle that the ship is due to leave tonight." Checking my watch I add "In little over one and one half hours to be precise."

"Yes, eight pm it is." Donny repeats, rolling his eyes, as if that was obvious.
A stewardess enters from the restaurant and relieves Donny of his service. They change pleasantries and the steward gestures at Nigel and points down.

Jackson rolls his eyes, what the heck is Blackwell going on about, is he doing this for Carlyle? Maybe theres a street in Durban that needs modernising. The idea almost makes him laugh aloud. He covers any possible outburst by tossing down the second glass of scotch. He takes out his pocket watch, opens it and glances at the time. From the 'discreet' signals being passes at Blackwell by the waiter he guesses that Blackwell's evening is more or less set - so,
"Well I guess if I'm to make it back aboard for when the boat casts off, I'd better look sharp and grab some things" he smiles at Bradley, "You sailing or what?"

I down my drink and grimace at the burning sensation of the liquor as it slides down my throat.

'Gods I hate this stuff - I think organisations such as the Anti-Saloon League may have a point!'

I smile at Jackson; partly to hide my disquiet over the antics of Blackwell and the steward.

"What me sail, sadly no, I was never a very good sailor preferring terra-firma beneath my feet. If you are going ashore then I think I shall accompany you. Do you need dropping off somewhere, I have a car at my disposal?"

After Jackson responds I turn to Nigel and say;

"Well it seems that as you are settled on board Mr Blackwell, I shall take my leave now as well. I cannot stress that our employer places the highest value to your mission. It is vital that you are aware that failure on your behalf would not prove beneficial to any of the parties concerned. To be blunt Mr Blackwell, Mr Carlyle does not recognise failure as an option that is open to you. I sincerely hope that your journey is not too arduous and that you manage to attain a successful outcome. Take care Mr Blackwell and remember to send regular reports to me as outlined in the terms of your contract."

Nigel answers in a most casual manner:
-Mr Bradley, I didn't build my reputation with failures. I can assure you that Mr Carlyle will be satisfied. I am more flexible than most persons- he says with a smile.

"I will pass your reassurances onto Mr Carlyle..." Bradley says to Nigel. "... I am sure your intentions are to continue your successful resume of expeditions and I wish your reputation continues apace."

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll have to move fast if I'm to be back here before the boat sails. Nice to have met you, Mr...Grey" Jackson picks up his hat from where he had put it on the bar. With a nod to Blackwell he leaves the bar and hurries back to the gangplank.

OOC:   I'm presuming that Jackson can make it back to his apartment, stick a few things in a bag, grab some cash and make it back before the ship leaves? Otherwise he'll have to make alternative arrangements to meet Blackwell in Durban

OOC: Can't he simply buy new things in the boat?

OOC:   No shop on board, I'm afraid Jackson will have to be back before the ship casts off.

Jackson leaves the other gentlemen and the stewardess at the bar.

I shall also take my leave Mr Blackwell. I shake his hand and nod at the stewardess before taking my leave and take a seat in the the Alpine where I can see the gangplank. I watch until the ship casts off to ensure Blackwell doesn't slip off the ship.

After the ship leaves I drive back to the Carlyle estate, hoping the roads are a bit quieter once I leave the city than they were coming in. Having that flat tyre as I drove to Manhattan did nothing for my timekeeping but I managed to find a local garage to repair it.

Nigel will wait until it's time to get to the other place...