Play@YSDC

This can't be right. There haven't been any sleeping cars on British trains since the war began. They're a waste of space, really. Trains these days are so packed with troops that even families have a hard time getting onboard. Yet here is this sleeping car looking as flash as anything one might expect to see on the Orient Express. The wood panelling is beautiful, with light touches and detailing here and there. The pale green blinds are each down. The electric lamps in their delicate lamp shades gives the cramped aisle a cozy glow. The aisle is cramped enough passengers moving along it in opposite directions must flatten themselves against the windows that line the right or the doors and interior walls that line the left in order to pass. The compartment doors are marked with 10 compartment numbers. This place is so nice and even the brown-patterned carpet so nice that few would have stepped onto such a luxury train compartment before. The fold up seat at the other end of the aisle, where the conductor would sit, has a simple peaked hat sitting on top of the clipboard.

It's cold in here, though. Don't luxury trains have some sort of centralised heating these days?

Ilona steps into the car and smiles. "Oh! It looks like they swapped out the usual train car! It's still cold in here though. Should we look for someone and ask what the hold up is? "

"Yeah, let's get going. I think we should move towards the head of the train, we are bound to find someone sooner or later", Jonathan replies.

This can't be right. There haven't been any sleeping cars on British trains since the war began. They're a waste of space, really. Trains these days are so packed with troops that even families have a hard time getting onboard. Yet here is this sleeping car looking as flash as anything one might expect to see on the Orient Express. The wood panelling is beautiful, with light touches and detailing here and there. The pale green blinds are each down. The electric lamps in their delicate lamp shades gives the cramped aisle a cozy glow. The aisle is cramped enough passengers moving along it in opposite directions must flatten themselves against the windows that line the right or the doors and interior walls that line the left in order to pass. The compartment doors are marked with 10 compartment numbers. This place is so nice and even the brown-patterned carpet so nice that few would have stepped onto such a luxury train compartment before. The fold up seat at the other end of the aisle, where the conductor would sit, has a simple peaked hat sitting on top of the clipboard.

It's cold in here, though. Don't luxury trains have some sort of centralised heating these days?

Go backward to Unknown.
Go forward to Day Car.
Leave for the Platform.

As something smashes against the side of the car Charlie dashes in and slams the door behind him. The bolt cutters clang to the floor as he scrambles in search of a locking mechanism or possible barricade.

The train door can be bolted from the inside but the bolt looks puny in comparison. It's not hard to shoot it in place and listen past your heavy breathing to the sound of movement outside, the sliding of meaty hands against the wall of the carriage as though it sought entrance by touch alone. There might be a possible barricade in one of the compartments or perhaps he could just step inside the nearest one and hide. There's a slightly diagonal door to his side that likely leads into a WC. Other doors would take him into the compartments or another carriage. There doesn't appear to be any more serious barricades within reach or sight.

Charlie slides the bolt in and backs away from the door. Gasping shaky breaths, he listens to the sound of the beast outside as the adrenaline slowly leaves his system.

It continues to feel around the outside of the train. He can hear the snuffling of its breath outside. It seems to be listening as well, straining those ears to hear him perhaps. The train carriage is cosily lit, at least. It would be much worse to stand here in the dark.

Charlie calms his breathing and attempts to move quietly to the next car.

OOC:   Spend a point of Stealth [dice]0[/dice]

As he steps toward the door, he stumbles a little on his trembling feet and rattles the knob with his shaking hands. Finally managing to slide the door back to the connecting compartment, he hears the thing snuffle and slam its hands once, twice, against the door. So hard he fears the metal might dent. Charlie's alone. There's no sign of anyone else. Are people sleeping in the compartments? Where's the conductor? He steps through and into the Day Car, heart hammering in his chest.

Stability Roll,[dice]0[/dice]. Lose 1 point if it's a failure.

Kate steps aboard the car and takes a look around.

This can't be right. There haven't been any sleeping cars on British trains since the war began. They're a waste of space, really. Trains these days are so packed with troops that even families have a hard time getting onboard. Yet here is this sleeping car looking as flash as anything one might expect to see on the Orient Express. The wood panelling is beautiful, with light touches and detailing here and there. The pale green blinds are each down. The electric lamps in their delicate lamp shades gives the cramped aisle a cozy glow. The aisle is cramped enough passengers moving along it in opposite directions must flatten themselves against the windows that line the right or the doors and interior walls that line the left in order to pass. The compartment doors are marked with 10 compartment numbers. This place is so nice and even the brown-patterned carpet so nice that few would have stepped onto such a luxury train compartment before. The fold up seat at the other end of the aisle, where the conductor would sit, has a simple peaked hat sitting on top of the clipboard.

It's cold in here, though. Don't luxury trains have some sort of centralised heating these days?

You could enter any of the compartments or you could:
Go forward to Day Car.
Leave for the Platform.

Not wishing to get separated, Kate leans out of the door to the platform and beckons to Artemis to join her before proceeding.

OOC,Can I tell from which direction the scream came?

Artemis saw the waiving hand and moved quickly along the side of the car taking care with his steps and not using his walking stick. He stepped up into the car's boot and looked at Ms. Kate.

"Thick fog out there, didn't see you climb in, and I didn't see the Countess anywhere about."

"We have to hope she works up her courage and climbs down after us," says Kate. "First we need to find whoever was screaming. Let's check the other compartments before proceeding to the next car. Odd that this train has a sleeping car. There haven't been any since before the war."

"Oh really, they are still pretty common on most of the longer routes in the States," Artemis responded to Miss Kate and then started to look about to get a sense of which direction they should be heading. "I can lead if you point which direction I should be heading in, Miss Kate."

"Well, that's because the States aren't at war," says Kate with a grin. "Here, it's a luxury we can't afford. I've also noticed there's no heating, and there ought to be. It's as if this were an old train. Well, let's get moving. I suggest we check each of the compartments in turn, knocking on the door. If there's no answer, we try to open it and see if anyone's inside. If all of the compartments are either empty or locked, then we can proceed to the Day Car."

"Here I thought the reason was that England wasn't as large as the States," Artemis laughed. "That approach makes a lot of sense to me. Obviously, there is a threat to individuals as there was that scream. I suggest that knock, open with the my can readily available, unless you happened to find a pistol in that nightmare of a place."

"Oh, we used to use them, all right," says Kate. "It's quite a long way up to Scotland, even if our country isn't anywhere near as large as yours. I don't have a pistol, sorry. Mr. Durant had one, but he disappeared. Well, let's get knocking." She leads the way to the nearest compartment door and knocks on it when Artemis is ready.

Artemis took a position that allowed him to swing his walking stick at anything that might try to burst from the door in response to Miss Kate's knock. He nodded, she knocked, and then they waited for any response.

They can hear something fluttering faintly inside.

Kate leans against the wall beside the door, reaches out, and tries to open it.

Artemis adjusted his walking stick in preparation for what might be revealed when the door was opened. He nodded at Miss Kate as she tried opening the door.

The door to Compartment 10 opens to reveal a rather luxuriant sleeping car compartment of the sort more often found on the transcontinental railways of Europe rather than a little second class sleeping car in England. A deep green couch sits on one side, capable of being folded out into a bunk bed. Then a step away from the bed in the small compartment sits a comfortable green chair and the door to another room - perhaps a shared wash room? That would be peculiar.

There's already a WC at the end of the hall. There is a bell-push by the door that would buzz to light a white light outside to alert the conducteur who should be out in the corridor. Next to it stands a hook for your watch chain and another for a hat. There's currently a silver pocket watch tick-tick-ticking the time and a fedora on those two hooks. A matching pair of hooks sit above this for the person who would be on the upper bunk. There's no watch dangling from this hook but there is a rather feminine cloche hat. The most peculiar fact of the matter is that most people wouldn't lay their hats and watches aside unless they were going to sleep and yet the couch hasn't been made into a bed.

An inlaid, fold-out table crouches beneath the window -- upon which sits a brass bird cage. The fluttering sound could surely have come from the white feathered bird inside it. Thankfully, the bird is still alive, though the cage is a mess of bird feces and even the water looks rather polluted. It eyes you curiously, its yellow crest rising slightly in curious, it's black beak slightly parted as it eyes you off. Shortly above this table is a little shelf by the window containing a lamp with a peach-coloured lamp shade, a weighted vase containing a single red flower and a glass ash tray.

There's a pair of leather suitcases and a feminine hat box sitting on the netting just below the mosaic-covered ceiling. None of the lights in here work, leaving the room gloomy with the door open and doubtless very dark with the door closed.

Biology or Outdoorsman knowledge,identifies it as a sulfur-crested cockatoo native to Australia. It's a type of parrot.

"It's a sulfur-crested cokcatoo," says Kate. "It's a kind of Australian parrot. Poor thing looks like it hasn't eaten in some time. There's got to be some birdseed in here for it, maybe in the suitcases. I don't think we can bring it with us - parrots aren't known for being quiet - but we should let it go before we leave." She leans over in front of the cage and addresses the bird. "What happened in here?"

"Don't leave rawwwk don't don't don't leave rawwwwk be alone be alone rawwwwk." It doesn't say those words with any kind of human sentience, more as though it had heard those words before. Repeated. At length.

Artemis brought this walking stick down to a normal position and fished out the torch from his pocket. He flipped a switch and scanned the room with the more intense light hoping to find some of the bird seed mentioned.

"Miss Kate, it might be in one of the bags, but where did everyone in this room get away too? And seems that the bird really would rather we stay with it."

"Parrots don't really understand what they're saying," says Kate, looking through the bags for some birdseed with her own torch providing light as well. "They just repeat what people around them say, and they usually have to say it often before the parrot learns."

"But, that implies that this bird has been here a lot longer than we saw the train sitting on the tracks, and how could it learn that in the time it's been alone?" Artemis swept the light about and then shifted towards the other door.

She pulls the top suitcase down onto the couch and finds that it contains ladies garments, enough for an overnight stay or two, and a very well-thumbed book of poetry. The clothes aren't well-folded, however. They look like they've been shoved back into it in a hurry including an empty paper bag that smells of bird seed but has nothing left inside of it. The clothes smell well-used, grotesque, and are soiled under the armpits as though someone wore them for quite awhile before putting them away.

The man's suitcase is empty but for several empty packets of food, a bottle of nearly empty man's cologne and a framed photograph of an older couple who look very happy together. The photo frame has a few drops of water upon it that look somewhat like tear drops, but there's no way tears would have lasted even a few minutes before drying.

Opening the book of poetry,[b]Oh, They have Robbed Me of The Hope by Anne Bronte[/b] Oh, they have robbed me of the hope My spirit held so dear; They will not let me hear that voice My soul delights to hear. They will not let me see that face I so delight to see; And they have taken all thy smiles, And all thy love from me. Well, let them seize on all they can: -- One treasure still is mine, -- A heart that loves to think on thee, And feels the worth of thine.

Kate flips through the poetry book before putting it down, a smile on her face. "I always did like the Bronte sisters," she says. "Well, it looks like they're out of birdseed. We should just let the parrot go. Birds are good at finding food for themselves, unless this one got too spoiled from being fed all the time."

"I found Wuethering Heights a bit on the dark side to be honest, but well written none the less. I suspect letting the parrot go makes sense and I hope that it finds a bit of peace that seems to be alluding us." Artemis said. He leaned against the pass through door and listened to see if there were any noticeable sounds on the other side.

The soft and disturbing wail of the air raid siren can be heard through the window outside, distant and melancholy. The rest of the train seems to be far too quiet for comfort. Where is everyone? Why have they all gone silent? The bird flutters its wings, turns its head from side to side.

Artemis shifted the walking stick and the flash light into his right hand and opened the pass through door with his left hand.

It isn't a pass through door, per se. It's a door into a little room with a porcelain sink set into a wooden cabinet with beautiful mosaic tile work all around. A place to refresh oneself in the morning and perhaps apply one's make up without having to step over each other in the actual Water Closet. It is rather an impressive thing to see, especially for Second Class, and very much makes the car appear all the more like some European luxury train rather than a typical London carriage. What on Earth is going on here? The wooden cabinet has a cupboard door -- likely to hide the piping. When his flashlight brushes against the bottom of the cabinet,
Stability roll (potential 1-point loss)
[dice]0[/dice]

"This poem was written by Anne rather than Emily," says Kate, opening the cage door so that the parrot is free to fly away. "It is a bit dark too, but it does show the enduring power of love. Well, whoever screamed is obviously not here. Let's move on to the next compartment before that air raid gets too close."

Artemis stepped back into the main compartment and shuddered at what he had seen. Was that hair and blood? What is going on in this place? He thought to himself. He turned as the bird cage door was opened.

"I agree, we need to move on to the next compartment."

Laraqua,so that is a successful role right? Don't need to deduct?

Ritterton,if the number is lower than 4 than you've failed and lost the point of stability.

The parrot hops down onto the edge of the cage door and peeks out at them. It preens itself, then flutters up onto the luggage rack. It's wingspan fills the tiny space quite intimidatingly. "Don't leave rawwwk don't leave don't leave don't leave rawwwwk bad door bad door."

"What's wrong?" Kate asks Artemis, concerned.

"I, uh, it's just, I thought I saw something but must be this place playing tricks with my eyes." Artemis said rather unconvincingly as his eyes glanced quickly back at the water closet. When the parrot fluttered up to the luggage rack and spoke aloud, Artemis' head snapped in its direction almost too quickly. "why would the bird say that?"

Kate frowns, but she doesn't press him. "Because people kept saying it in front of the bird is my guess," she says. "Don't know why they would, though. If you're sure you're all right, let's move on. Is the washroom shared with the next compartment? If so, we can go through it. Otherwise, let's just go back out to the hall and try the next one."

"No, no, it's not connected," Artemis said quickly, too quickly, and there was a slight twitch on his face. "Next compartment it is then, let's try to figure out what is going on here."

"All right," says Kate, leading the way back to the corridor and the next compartment. "What did you see in there?"

"nothing, nothing, my mind had to have been playing tricks on me is all. This place seems to be getting under my scalp," Artemis chuckled nervously as they left the compartment. "Sure don't want to loose any more hair on as a result of all of this."

Artemis had a wry grin on his face as he spoke, but his eyes darted about nervously.

"I appreciate that you're trying to protect me from knowing about whatever you saw," says Kate as she proceeds to the next compartment door, "but if you don't tell me, I'll only imagine the most horrible thing I can, and I have a very strong imagination. I've seen a lot of awful things in the course of my work, probably worse than whatever was in there." She shudders involuntarily at the memory of treating a child who had terribly burned by incendiaries.

"Well," Artemis paused then sighed. "It looked like some one had been scalped with the hair and blood pouring out of the cabinet in the wash closet, but then it wasn't there. Honestly, I think my mind was just playing tricks is all. Let's head to the next comparment, this place is just playing on our nerves. Need to keep our wits and heads about us."

Kate nods. "I've actually seen worse than that," she says, "but it does sound pretty bad. At least it wasn't real."She positions herself beside the next compartment door and tries knocking on it,

"Aye, there is at least that," Artemis whispered as he got himself back into the position with his walking stick. He didn't sound as convincing as he would like, however, and took a deep breath focusing on the door and what might lay behind it. He nodded to Miss Kate when he was ready for her to open it.

There is no sounds coming from within this compartment.

Kate tries the door to see if it will open.

The door is locked.

"Unless you can pick a lock," says Kate, "let's move on to the next one."

OOC,I just noticed that my character sheet doesn't show that I used three points of Psychoanalysis earlier.

"Nah, if it was broke, I could probably fix it," Artemis winked and nodded towards the door across the hall.

Kate positions herself beside the next door and knocks on it.

There's no response to the knock on the door. This door isn't locked, though.

Kate,My bad. I totally missed that. Was it to boost someone else's stability?

Kate opens the door and peeks inside.

OOC,They were spent on a Psychoanalysis roll to guarantee success bringing the Countess to her senses.

Artemis readied the walking stick in such a manner as to be prepared to strike at or defend against any potential attacker in the room. He looked into the compartment when Ms. Kate opened the door.

The door to Compartment 8 opens to reveal a rather luxuriant sleeping car compartment of the sort more often found on the transcontinental railways of Europe rather than a little second class sleeping car in England. A deep green couch sits on one side, capable of being folded out into a bunk bed. Then a step away from the bed in the small compartment sits a comfortable green chair and the door to another room - perhaps a shared wash room? That would be peculiar. There's already a WC at the end of the hall. The floor is covered with a very thin layer of broken glass that crunches underfoot.

There is a bell-push by the door that would buzz to light a white light outside to alert the conducteur who should be out in the corridor. Next to it stands a hook for your watch chain and another for a hat. There's a series of light gouges by these hooks that run vertically about a foot and a half down.

An inlaid, fold-out table crouches beneath the window -- upon which sits a jewellery box. Shortly above this table is a little shelf by the window containing a lamp without a lamp shade -- the light bulb has been removed. Beside it is a weighted vase containing a single red flower and a glass ash tray.

There's a single leather suitcase and a feminine hat box sitting on the netting just below the mosaic-covered ceiling. None of the lights in here work, leaving the room gloomy with the door open and doubtless very dark with the door closed.

Forensics,the gouges are likely caused by fingernails, using enough pressure that it would have eventually caused a nail to pop off. Looking closer, you find one such fingernail..

Artemis dug into his pocket and shown his torch about the compartment. The light glances off of the broken glass on the floor. Artemis looked about trying to see if he could see the source of the broken glass. He looks at the glass then back up at the light missing the shade.

"Do you think that that is the source for the glass here?" He moved the beam back and forth, then sent the beam over to the jewerly box. He took a few steps in and looked at the jewerly box. He used the beam to examine the box. "Should we look?"

"Yeah, looks like someone broke the light bulb," says Kate. "Let's just look for people. We have six more compartments to check in this car alone, and we may not have much time. We should check to see if anyone's behind that door, then move on to the next one. Mind the glass."

"Right, then let's check the watercloset to make sure we are not missing anyone," Artemis agreed. He picked up the torch in his left hand and readied his walking stick in his right. He nodded at Ms. Kate when he was ready for her to open the door.

Kate nods and makes her way to the door, carefully avoiding the glass. When she reaches it, she tries to open the door.

It's not too difficult to avoid the glass. Perhaps it did come from the overhead light exploding? Opening the door into the water closet, they see a trail of suspicious looking rust brown stains leading into the next compartment (7) whose door is closed and locked from this side. A book sits on the ground, laying open, written in what appears to be French. There are no stains on the book.

"What is going on in this train?" Artemis shook his head and reached down for the book. German and Latin where his expertise. He flipped the book close and waived the closed book at Ms. Kate.

"Recognize this one?" Artemis asked with a shrug.

There's a mouth pinned to the front cover, lips spread open around the title, flaps of skin from the chin and cheeks and that bridge between nose and mouth pinned to the wood. Due to how he closed it and swung it up to present to Kate, Artemis won't be the one who notices it first.

Stability Loss 3 on a failed roll.

OOC,technically you could read your post a few different ways but this is the most cinematic option and it doesn't really mess with anything to have you accidentally present a gruesomely decorated book to her.

When Kate before she sees the cover, she screams and shoves it away. "Oh, how horrid!" She hugs herself, shivering.

OOC,Stability roll (no points spent): [dice]0[/dice]

Artemis was taken aback by Miss Kate's reaction to a simple book. "What is it Kate?" He pulled the book down and looked about the cabin to try to find what had caused her to react as she did. It had to be something like what he saw in the other room.

"Th-that," says Kate, pointing at the book, her arm trembling. "I think I can safely say I've never seen that book before."

Artemis shook his head at Miss Kate not understanding her reaction from a simple book. He looked down at it when she pointed at it in a rather paniced manner. "I don't see what you are all concerned about regarding a book."

As he said it, he flipped the book over with a twist of his wrist and saw the mouth that was tacked to the front cover. His eyes went wide and his face snarled in revulsion.

[Spoiler-Button][dice]0[/dice] spending one stability point of the 6 remaining. [/Spoiler-Button]

"Yeah," says Kate, seeing his reaction. "I know the feeling. What's it doing here? Who would even make a thing like this?"

"No clue," Arty tossed the book to the floor and tried wiping the taint of the book off his fingers as he shuddered. His neck tightened and his face shifted into a terrible scwol. "I am really starting to hate this train, Miss Kate."

"You're preaching to the choir," says Kate with a grimace. "Come on, let's check the next compartment. We need to find anyone on this train before that air raid gets here."

Arty followed after Ms. Kate as they walked back into the sleeping car's central corridor. He readied himself at the next door with his walking stick at the ready. He face twitched as he tried to wipe the image of the face bound onto that book. He had not seen somethig that grisly for some time. He nodded at Ms. Kate and said, "Maybe this time we can find something we could actually understand and explain."

"Fifth time's the charm," says Kate. "Or is it sixth? I've lost count." Shrugging, she positions herself beside the next compartment door and raps on it.

As she rapped on the next compartment's door, Artemis readied his walking stick in preparation for what may be found within this compartment. His mouth twitched a bit as he waited.

There is no response to the rapping at the door but there is a vague sound coming from further along the train towards the social cars.... A high, sharp sound. A scream? A shout? Impossible! In this silence you should be able to hear such a thing clearly.

"The compartments can wait," says Kate, already heading towards the sound. "Someone could be hurt! Come on!"

Arty looked back at the door and then shook his head. "Fine, I am not sure it is best to leave our flanks exposed as we push forward the line, but fine."

He walked after her. His walking stick tapping out a rythmatic tattoo in the train's corridor.

This can't be right. There haven't been any sleeping cars on British trains since the war began. They're a waste of space, really. Trains these days are so packed with troops that even families have a hard time getting onboard. Yet here is this sleeping car looking as flash as anything one might expect to see on the Orient Express. The wood panelling is beautiful, with light touches and detailing here and there. The pale green blinds are each down. The electric lamps in their delicate lamp shades gives the cramped aisle a cozy glow. The aisle is cramped enough passengers moving along it in opposite directions must flatten themselves against the windows that line the right or the doors and interior walls that line the left in order to pass. The compartment doors are marked with 10 compartment numbers. This place is so nice and even the brown-patterned carpet so nice that few would have stepped onto such a luxury train compartment before. The fold up seat at the other end of the aisle, where the conductor would sit, has a simple peaked hat sitting on top of the clipboard.

It's cold in here, though. Don't luxury trains have some sort of centralised heating these days?

Go backward to Unknown.
Go forward to Day Car.
Leave for the Platform.