Play@YSDC

St. James's Church - London, England
8:30 PM - Saturday, September 7, 1940

There were several people sitting in the air raid shelter in the basement of St. James's Church in Ratcliffe, in East London. The first bombs had fallen in the late afternoon, with the most intense period of bombing between five and seven o'clock. Currently there was a lull in the bombing, though the all clear had not yet sounded. London had until tonight been almost entirely spared, but now the war had come home, and there was no telling when or how it would end.

Lord Rufus Colville sat on a spare pew kept here for storage, reading a newspaper. As a civil servant in the foreign office, he had watched the world situation grow worse and worse from a front row seat, and war had come in spite of his best efforts. Now the war was here, just over their heads. He had had a meeting at a Chinese teahouse in the East End with a Chinese diplomat this afternoon and had arrived a bit early, just in time for the sirens to go off. The foreign diplomat had not yet arrived, and the staff had directed him to this nearby shelter, assuring him that they would tell the man he was due to meet where to find him if he arrived. However, he had not come. Perhaps he had still been en route to the teahouse when the sirens had sounded. If he had taken the Tube, he would not have been permitted to surface and would have had to shelter in an Underground station.

A pretty young lady with blonde hair named Laura, a secretary who worked in an office building not far away, sat in one of the few comfortable chairs that had been brought down here. She had been extremely frightened throughout the raid, wincing every time a bomb fell. Two old women sat in the only other chairs near her. Mrs. Phyllis Cruckshank and Mrs. Maggie Duncan were both elderly widows with oversized handbags, in the neighborhood doing charity work for the Women's Institute. Both of them carried themselves with an air of imposing will. In contrast to Laura, neither of them showed any trace of fear. Phyllis also had a hefty iron umbrella, which rested within easy reach.

Archie Pennyweather, Royal Navy Chaplain, sat on a pew beside the elderly rector of the church, Giles Curry. He had been visiting the church when the sirens had begun, and the rector had shown him down to the shelter. Next to them was Benjamin Klein, an old tailor whose home and place of employment had been nearby. Today had been the sabbath, so he had not been working at the tailor shop. The sun had set by now, which meant that the sabbath was over.

There was also a handsome man in his thirties, Seamus O'Leary. He had been down at the docks arranging a deal for a portion of a shipment of food that had come in on a ship. He would not have had to spend any ration points on it, a convenience he would have passed on to his customers (though with a sizeable markup). Unfortunately, Jerry had decided to pay a visit and interrupted his business. Or perhaps fortunately, if the shipment had been destroyed in the bombing, as he had not yet paid for it.

Benjamin fidgetted nervously on his pew, his small beady eyes darting furtively from one corner of the cellar to another. "Do you think it's already safe to go outside?", he asked the two clergymen. "I'm feeling cooped up in here..."

"I wouldn't go up there," said Giles Curry, his voice faint and raspy. "Jerry could come back any time now. The all clear hasn't gone yet, so the danger isn't over. We must have patience. God will see us through this trial."

Seamus O'Leary picks up his head, he's been completely silent until now. "I'd listen to the old man. The Nazi's are a feckin' unpredictable lot.
Though I fail to see how he can see God through all this carnage."

Archie circles around a bit, making sure everyone is as reasonably happy as circumstances will allow. He is his usual effervescently cheery self and when not talking hums "All Things Bright and Beautiful."

To Benjamin he answers, "Best to sit tight till the all clear, old son." Archie extends a hand, "Archie Pennyfeather, at your service."

Benjamin shook Archie's hand. "Benjamin Klein, nice to meet you. I live and work at a tailorshop nearby." He lets out a long resigned sigh. "Guess I'll have to have a bit more patience... It's just that I don't like being locked up underground for too long..."

Laura shivered. "I don't much like it either," she said. "I know it's not safe up there, but we might not be safe down here either. If a bomb falls on our heads, we could be buried alive!"

Archie is a bit privately concerned that the group could head into panic.

"Best thing to do is sit tight down here where we're safe. We need something to take our minds off it all. What about a nice sing along? Or I can tell you all some of the history of the area...? Who has the best singing voice? We could have a competition for the best song or other entertainment."

Mrs Cruckshank snores and splutters awake, "Oh deary me! Did I drop off? Maggie, you should have poked me!" She casts an eye at Laura, "Don't fidget so, young lady! You are perfectly safe down here unless one considers dying of boredom a possibility. Haven't you brought something constructive to do?" She opens her vast handbag and pulls out a large roll of pink knitted wool and some needles. "Under garments." She nods knowingly to Mrs Duncan and starts to knit. "A sing along, how perfectly dreadful." She mutters under her breath.

"Hmm?" muttered Maggie Duncan, opening her own eyes. "Sorry, Phyllis. I nodded off myself for a wee bit. Ah, yes, knitting." She burrowed in her own oversized handbag for her needles and a ball of yarn.

"I'm no Vera Lynn," said Laura, "but I'm a decent enough singer. Sure, I'll give it a try." She cleared her throat and began to sing in a sweet, lilting voice:

"We'll meet again,
Don't know where, don't know when,
But I know we'll meet again, some sunny day.
Keep smiling through,
Just like you always do,
Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away.
So will you please say hello,
To the folks that I know,
Tell them I won't be long,
They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go
I was singing this song.
We'll meet again,
Don't know where, don't know when,
But I know we'll meet again, some sunny day."

Archie claps his hands enthusiastically. "Bravo! Bravo! What a delightful singing voice you have been blessed with. Gets us all in the heart, that song, eh? Especially when sung so well."

"Now, would anyone else care to share a song? Or does anyone know a good magic trick? Or what about a card game, I'm sure I can rustle up a deck of cards. Gambling for matches and honour only, of course."

With a shy smile, Benjamin goes and sits a bit apart from the group, and pulls out a small tattered book out of one of his coat pockets. He leafs through it, and when he finds the passage he's looking for, he starts to read, mouthing the words silently. After a while, he closes the book, nods determinedly, and rejoins the group, a bit more relaxed.

Seamus O'Leary rolls his eyes at the strange display but allows it to carry on. The less attention they pay to him the better. Eventually, however, the eyes of his fellow shelterers find him. "Sorry but I think it best me sit out choir practice. The only songs I know how to sing aren't fit for present company nor location."

"Thank you," said Laura to Archie, blushing and looking down at her feet.

OOC,Can [b]Archie[/b] find a deck of cards anywhere?

Archie wanders over to the well dressed Rufus. "And what about you, sir? Could you offer a song? Magic trick? Good joke? Above board of course."

Mrs Cruckshank's needles clitter clatter faster than the eye can see. A voluminous pair of powder pink knickers take shape surprisingly quickly.

Rufus looked up from his newspaper. "I'm afraid not," he said with a perfectly straight face. "As a civil servant, I have had my sense of humour surgically removed."

OOC,[b]Seamus[/b] may very well have a deck of cards on him, though they may be marked.

Archie beams at the gathering. "I say, does anyone have deck of cards?"

"Would a Tarot deck do?" asks Benjamin? He again reaches into his voluminous pockets and pulls out a ruffled set of cards.

Archie nods happily. "I'm pretty sure a tarot deck would do fine, if you don't mind us all using it. We just have to take out the esoteric cards. Fascinating history, the tarot deck."

Archie will quickly sort through the deck, if Benjamin has no objections. "What would everyone like to play, whist, bridge, poker? All for honour or matchsticks of course"

To Benjamin, he adds, "Not to pry, old boy, but that's an unusual thing to carry around with you all the time. Are you a bit of a tarot aficionado?"

Finally, Seamus seems animated. He walks over to the quickly forming group, "Now this is more me speed. But the bigger question isn't what shall we play, but what say we wager?"

"Now, now, Old Boy, as I said before, we're playing for matchsticks and the honour of victory. We can hardly gamble in an air raid shelter under a church, I'm pretty sure that's against the law. And immoral. But we can still have fun with matches!" Archie holds up a box of matches to make his point and shakes them encouragingly.

"There are fascinating connections between Tarot and Kaballah, but I'm sure you don't want to listen to an old man's ramblings". Benjamin smiles apologetically.

Seamus looks at Archie with a wry, charming smile. "I'm sorry fella but me ma taught me playing with matches was mighty dangerous. And I always found her wrath mightier than the lord's. Besides, there are other things of value to wager besides money. Information, in my experience, is often priceless. It may behoove us to learn a bit about each other while we wait."

To Benjamin, Archie replies, "Kabbalah? That's a kind of theological study that originated from Judaism, isn't it? I'm afraid I don't know a great deal about it but I'm always interested to learn more, especially anything with an historical aspect."

To Seamus, Archie replies, "Well old son, I'm an open book but you're still most welcome to gamble for personal history along with matchsticks if it makes you happy. As long as there's no money involved. Archie Pennyfeather, at your service, by the way."

OOC,Can [b]Archie[/b] make a snappy roll in something to know a little bit about Kabbalah? History?

OOC,[b]Archie's[/b] [i]Occult[/i] is 5% and he rolls... [dice]0[/dice]

(As a good meat-and-potatoes CofE minister, Archie really knows nothing about the occult.)

"Do tell,", Archie encourages Benjamin as he deals out a hand to those who want to play and shares out matchsticks.

"Well, in a nutshell...", Benjamin begins, "Kaballah is all about trying to get a glimpse of the Nature of the Universe the Creator's Plan for the World by studying the hidden meaning of ancient texts. Numbers and sacred cyphers play a big role there....

Archie nods encouragingly. "Indeed? And how old are the oldest texts on the subject, do you know? I do love placing things historically."

To Seamus, Archie asks, "And where in Ireland are you from, old son?"

Mrs Cruckshank tut tuts under her breath and her knitting needles fly a shade faster.
"I'm afraid I don't hold with heathen practices, Mrs Duncan. It's a slippery slope and no mistake; one has no idea where it can take one. I once knew a gentleman, knew of I should say, who collected those African masks. Great ugly evil things they were. How he could sleep at night with them hanging on his walls, leering, I can't imagine. Anyhow, he caught a bad case of consumption and didn't last the year. So it just goes to show. And I don't hold with gambling neither."

"Too right, Mrs. Cruckshank," said Maggie, nodding sagely. "Such things bring nothing but grief."

Giles smiled. "Well spoken, ladies," he said, approaching with a thick book. "Some Bible study is what we need. Perhaps one of the Psalms. I always find them comforting."

Archie nods at Benjamin. "Yes, of course you're quite right. As a matter of interest though, are there any ancient texts that speak specifically about kabbalah? Or put another way, what would be the first writing dedicated specifically to the topic, I wonder?"

Benjamin thinks for a while. Well, in the beginning it was mainly a secret oral tradition. Important early mystical writings are those of Ben Zakkai in the first century, although it wasn't called Kaballah back then...

Archie nods enthusiastically to Benjamin. "I really am going to have to do some more reading on the topic."

Hands of cards are dealt and scrutinised...

Turning again to Seamus, Archie asks, "So where in Ireland are you from, old son?"

Seamus smirks, self-satisfied by what he's caused. Information i's everything.

He snaps out of his thoughts at the sound of Archie's voice. "Place called Killanny," he says. "I got a prize for ya if you could tell me where on the Green Isle that is."

From his breast pocket Seams takes out a small flask. He shakes it to display the considerable volume left within the metal container.

[Spoiler-Button]Seamus has a Luck of 60

He rolls:[dice]1[/dice]
[/Spoiler-Button]
[dice]0[/dice]

After the Major Arcana and the Knights were removed, the Tarot deck had the same composition as a regular deck of playing cards, albeit with different suits. This was no surprise, as Benjamin well knew, since the traditional playing card deck was in fact based on the Tarot deck. Benjamin's hand was junk, with his high card a Jack. Archie did a little better than that, with a pair of fours. However, Seamus easily won the round, revealing a straight with a ten high.

OOC,I'll just count the first roll.

A gleam comes over Seamus' eyes as he collects the cards and begins to shuffle. "Now for me prize. Tell me the scariest thing you've ever experienced."

Benjamin hesitates at first. "The scariest thing I've ever encountered? A few years back, one morning I found the word "Jude" on the door of my tailor shop in Berlin... " He closes his eyes and shudders. "And now I'm here, stuck in this shelter. It seems I did not run away far enough..." He falls silent.

Archie grins and reaches over to give Benjamin a cheery clap on the shoulder. "Well, I can't argue that perhaps New York would have been safer as a final destination, saving the gun-toting bootleggers, gangsters, cowboys and Indians one sees at the cinema. On the other hand, old son, you are on an island filled with people who dislike Herr Hitler about as much as you do. And as Mr Churchill has said," and here Archie draws breathe and adopts the jowly long vowels of the famous leader, "We shall never surrender."

Turning to Seamus, Archie considers. "So, I must redeem my debt, hmm, scariest experience. I am slightly tempted to say being forced to eat haggis with the Home Fleet at Scapa. But secretly, I've started developing a taste for the stuff."

"No, hunting U-boats in the Atlantic at night in winter, when it's blowing, it's pitch black, there are huge cresting waves and it's freezing. Then your ship is torpedoed, you feel it and you can see the red-orange of a fuel fire. Then you wonder, will something hard hit you, will you get burnt, will you fall into water full of floating, burning oil, will you drown or freeze? And what about all the men you have been ministering too, facing the same varied fates?"

Archie takes a deep breathe and smiles. "As it turns out, something hard hits you, lights out, and you awaken in a lifeboat. One of the few."

Seamus mentally compares his experiences to those of the two men. He immediately regrets asking such a provocative question, not because of the pain it must have caused these two men, but for the memories brought to the surface within himself. After an awkward pause, Seamus snaps himself back to reality and looks at Archie and Benjamin.

"Woah," he exclaims. "You boys have really lived. Is it weird to feel jealous of the shite you two went through? My stories would be significantly less impressive."

Archie barks a short laugh. "You have nothing to be jealous of or apologise for. If I had my wish, none of us would ever experience anything so frightening."

"Anyway, frightening is nothing new. I imagine Boadicea's people were frightened of the Romans, and later the Saxons would have been rightly terrified of the Vikings. Then the Normans would have been scary again, and speaking French. Your own nation would have been hardly pleased to see Cromwell and his murderous army. We must pray the future brings more civilised times."

Seamus shows a grin without much happiness within it. "I'm impressed by your knowledge of history. I don't know who Baudahoochie is but my people are descended from Vikings. Maybe that's why we can't stop fecking killing each other." He reaches out and pats Archie on the shoulder, "Your unbridled optimism leaves a lot to be desired though friend. In my experience, the more you strive for peace the more devastating the fall when mankind inevitably disappoints you. Better to rely on the erring of man than to trust in it doing right."

Benjamin stands up and walks to the cellar's door, puts his ear against it and listens for a while. "I can't hear anything. It's been a while since the last round of shelling. I wonder how long they'll keep us waiting until they sound the all-clear. Or perhaps there's no one left anymore to sound the all-clear..." He shudders.

[dice]0[/dice]

Archie pauses in his chatting and card play to caste an eye over the basement. He is looking for what appears to be the safest place, perhaps under an arch or under a pew?

Benjamin notices Archie looking around. "Wait, you heard that too right? Everyone, hide under a pew, aircraft are coming!". He ducks under the nearest pew, nervously peering out from under it.

Archie raises his hands for attention. "Benjamin is in fact correct. No need for fuss but it might be a good idea to look for something solid to sit under. A table, an arch, a pew even."

Archie will assist anyone who needs assisting to move.

To cheer everyone up as he attempts to organise them, Archie cheerily pipes up, "I'm trying to write a good wartime song but I haven't got very far. Tell me what you think though." He clears his throat and commences a jaunty little song...

"Who do you think you are kidding Mr. Hitler,
If you think we're on the run?
We are the boys who will stop your little game.
We are the boys who will make you think again..."

OOC,With all credit and many apologies to Mr Jimmy Perry and colleagues of course.

Seamus dives for the nearest pew waving to those still looking that there's more room.

"So you can luft that waffe straight up your bum!"

Laura shrieked and dove under the nearest pew in panic. "They're coming back?!" she cried. "Oh, not again! I can't take much more of this!"

The two old ladies continued with their knitting as if nothing was amiss. "Keep calm, lassie," said Maggie Duncan. "There's no cause for alarm. We'll be perfectly safe down here."

Seamus winks at Laura, "Darlin', why don't ya come down here?I'll keep ya safe. I promise." Sleaze drips from every word.

Archie rolls his eyes. "Yes, thank you old son, less of the night club patter if you please. We are under a church after all. Now we don't know if the planes we can hear are friend or foe, and even if they are foe, they may fly right over us and ignore us."

Archie continues to circle the room, making sure everyone is as calm and comfortable as circumstances will allow. He goes back to humming 'I vow to thee, my country'.

Benjamin closes his eyes and puts his hands over his ears. His lips can be seen moving in silent prayer.

Maggie frowned and tsked at Seamus. Laura just looked away from him in disgust.

"Thank you," Giles rasped to Archie. "I must admit that I'm sorely tempted to ask him to leave, but I couldn't do that to anyone."

Archie pats Giles gently on the shoulder. "Room in this Inn for everyone tonight."

He stands in the middle of the basement, head cocked to one side, listening carefully for planes and bombs, then goes back to quietly singing...

"I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above,
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love..."

Seamus laughs to himself and shakes his head. He finds the whole thing rather ridiculous.

"My apologies everyone. Didn't realize your God was so sensitive. Would he be offended if I insulted the devil himself?"

He reads the disgust in the room and raises his hand to silence any would be scoldings. "I'll keep the peace and be a good little alter boy."

Seamus struggles to swallow the several one liners that flood his mind.

"No indeed Mrs Duncan; these youngsters are too flighty and no mistake. Oh bother! I just dropped a stitch. Mind you, my ears aren't what they used to be." Mrs Cruckshank stares hard at the ceiling and then goes back to her knitting.

Archie, still standing tall (well, actually short) with the conviction of the righteous, looks over / down at Seamus. "You don't need to stay silent, old son, just a bit respectful of others."

Archie continues to prowl around the basement, pausing in his singing every now and then to listen carefully.

Benjamin dares to open his eyes, and seeing that the world is still there, he uncovers his ears and asks, Hmm, do you think this could have been a false alarm?

Seamus delivers yet another infuriating laugh in response to the tension. He looks towards Benjamin, "Only one way to tell, pops."

He gets out from under the pew and smirks at Archie as he passes. He approaches the exit and turns around, "I doubt anyone would object. Perhaps it would even prove your convictions. Mind if I volunteer to be the guinea pig?"

Archie looks alarmed. "Hold on, old son, you're not a prisoner but that isn't a good idea. The all clear has not sounded. I'm far more interested in having a live Irishman than a dead guinea pig. I don't even know your name."

"Ha! Fancy hearin' that from a Brit!" Seamus chuckles yet again.
"Believe you me, I ain't brave by any stretch but something just isn't right. When have you known a bombing raid to last this long without any actually fecking bombs?"
He pauses for emphasis.
"I'll just peek me 'ead out. I promise."

Benjamin nods emphatically. I agree, something does not feel right here. By this time, something should have happened, one way or another. If you could have a quick look, I'd be very grateful."

Mrs Cruckshank looks up over her flying needles at the Irishman; they were all crazy, that breed.

Archie sighs. "Well, my observation is Jerry doesn't always announce his arrival, nor do bombing raids run to a schedule. And your life is not worthless to me. Apart from anything, I've known plenty of brave Irishmen who served in the Royal Navy in the last war or this one, or indeed both, and not just Irishmen from the North, mind."

"If you must risk being blown to kingdom come, just open the door and look for a second then come back."

Seamus mockingly bows and goes to the hatch. As he undoes the door he yells behind him, "I don't think it so odd to want answers.
The alarm sounded an age ago and there were no bombs. Unless the planes have been circling all this time, there were no planes in the first place. Now Hilter may be a coupe missing a couple tires but he's a frugal man.
You have to be when you're fighting the world. Not only would he not waste the petrol but he wouldn't risk losing the planes. Something else is up here."

He turns to the group as he gets the hatch undone. "Besides, if I have to hear another of these jolly songs I may blow me own brains out! Might as well give the Nazis first cracking at it!" Seamus cackles as he lifts the hatch high enough to fit his head and shoulders out.

Seamus opened the basement door and climbed the stairs to the ground floor of the church. There was no light, as the windows were all shrouded by blackout curtains and the large front doors were shut. He could now hear the drone of aircraft engines far overhead and in the distance, though they were getting closer...

OOC,There is no hatch. The basement of the church has been converted to a shelter.

Surprised and more than a bit nervous, though he'd never admit it to the rest of the group, Seamus hustles to the nearest window to see what he can see.

Seamus went to an eastward-facing window and moved the blackout curtain aside slightly so that he could peer outside. There weren't any lights on in the room, so hopefully nothing would attract the attention of the bombers to this building. A direct hit would kill them all, shelter or no shelter.

And bombers there were. High in the sky, dull gray shapes flying in formation made their way inexorably closer from the east. He noticed that there were no RAF planes visible trying to stop them. Where could they be?

A dull whump in the distance reminded him that the air raid was in fact still occurring.

Seamus' eyes widen and he bolts from the window, back to the basement. He slams the door behind him and braces himself against it, breathing hard. He remembers himself and turns to the group again. He pulls his suit downward to straighten out the creases. "Yeah, raid's still on." He walks calmly back to his lonely pew and lies beneath it as casual as he can muster.

"Thanks young man, that was very brave. Now at least we know it's not yet safe to go out...", says Benjamin.

"I guess the only thing we can do now is wait...", he pauses a bit, "and pray..."

Unaccustomed to being called such, Seamus, for the first time in his life, is at a loss for words.

But not for long.

"All is not well, I fear. None of our tin cans are in the sky. For a raid this long, that's highly unusual."

Archie looks briefly skyward (a bit further than the Luftwaffe) for inspiration or at least patience. He gathers up and starts shuffling Benjamin's esoteric cards again.

"Well, no one was hurt and that's the important thing. Shall we play another hand?"

"But, shouldn't we stay under our pews? Our Irish friend here just told us the raid is still on..." Benjamin is looking a bit worried and pale around the nose.

When Seamus comes back, Mrs Cruckshank puts down her needles and examinines her handiwork, "Well Mrs Duncan, I think that's all I can do now; the light is getting too dim for my poor old eyes. A nice bit of pink ribbon will finish them off nicely." She carefully folds away the volumious drawers and puts them in her bag.
"This air raid is beginning to be a bit tiresome. Does anyone have the time on them? I was supposed to be at the meeting ofThe Band of Hope in Bethnal Green soon but I'm sure I'll miss it at this rate." Mrs Cruckshank looks slightly hopeful.

Maggie put away her own knitting as well. "I don't expect the Band of Hope will be there either, Mrs. Cruckshank," she said.

The well-dressed gentleman with the newspaper checked his watch. "It's ten to nine, ma'am," he told Phyllis.

OOC,Everyone, please roll Listen.

Mrs Cruckshank's ears aren't as sharp as her tongue anymore.

listen,(25%) roll: 73

All of the occupants of the air raid shelter could now hear the planes overhead, as well as some distant explosions that sounded as though they were getting closer. However, those noises kept most of them from hearing anything else.

Benjamin Klein,[b]Benjamin[/b]'s hearing was sharp as ever. Even over the noise of the raid, he could hear the church doors opening upstairs and clearly made out four sets of footsteps moving quickly inside.

Benjamin's eyes grew wide. "Did you hear that? There are people upstairs!"

Archie is instantly alert. "More souls seeking an inn for the night."

Quick as a flash, he's out the door and up the stairs. "I say, the bomb shelter is down this way! Do mind the stairs!"

Seamus hestitates in shock. "What in the blazes are ya doin', boyo?! All the grief in the world for a curious Irishman, but ya run headlong into the furnace for any old schmo. Who knows who they could be."

Benjamin looks in disbelief at Seamus as Archie dashes up the stairs. "Absolutely, Archie, do be careful! The raid is still on and we don't know if these people are friend or foe!"

Archie calls back down the stairs, "This is a bomb shelter, after all, we actually want Londoners to find their way in, not but stuck upstairs. By all means keep the door shut till I return though." Directing his attention back to the ground level where he now is, Archie calls out loudly, "I say, there's a bomb shelter here if you need it, here in the church basement!"

Seamus, knowing the seedier sides of London, goes back to the door. "Your sense of honor, while annoying, is honorable. But these folks could be looters. You're putting everyone down here in danger!

"If you ask me, you'll find bigger crooks in Mayfair than round here." says Mrs Cruckshank. "And even a looter needs shelter in an air raid; let the man guide them in!"

Seamus knows when he's beaten. He walks over to Benjamin. "Well, let's hope we're wrong."

Archie continues hollering, "I say, if anyone is in need of a bomb shelter, there's one right here!!"

He pauses to listen for a second or two before resuming his yelling.

Archie reached the top of the stairs, where he saw the new arrivals. There were four of them, led by a middle-aged air raid warden, his uniform marred by ash and soot. He was wheeling a bicycle, in the basket of which rode a small black cat. Just behind him were a middle-aged man wearing an overcoat, a woman in her twenties wearing trousers and a jacket over a woolen pullover, and a pretty teenage girl dressed all in black, with jeans, a jacket over a blouse, and boots.

OOC,Everyone is moving to the thread linked below:

Rain of Death