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Secrets At Samhain: A Caper in Ireland
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Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Oct-27-2011 09:35

"Darlings, its terribly good to see you." Amelia de Maltesse known as Molly to her inner circle began, taking a seat at the head of the decadent art nouveau table that crowned her dining room. "I do declare its been a while since we reunited- I daresay some of us have gotten into the most delicious ventures in that time."

There were appreciative murmurs all around the table, and a few jokes besides. She waited a moment with a coy smile on her lips, running her fingers absently through her rich waves of auburn hair. When the room had quieted somewhat, she produced a slim folder and placed it delicately on the table before her.

"The reason why I called you all here today is I have had the most interesting case offer from a rather desperate fellow in Scotland. He is the caretaker of a castle in Ireland. Excuse me for thinking the man is already quite a dunderhead- he's had several psychics tour the premises in an effort to discern the curious activity there and come up with nothing. The parish police have investigated a strange murder that recently occurred there but have come up with nothing."

"You're saying this place is believed haunted?" a voice rose from the friendly din of the dining room.

"It would appear so." Molly looked down at the file and tapped a slim fingernail upon it. "More like, it may be a series of elaborate pranks designed to drive the castles denizens away. There is a footnote in here about a vast treasure hidden somewhere on the grounds in the 12th century, and the recent discovery of a priceless gold cup has stirred up local interest and treasure hunters."

"Cursed treasure, of course." said another voice. Molly threw a quick grin.

"Naturally." She ran her fingers through her hair once again. "It isn't our usual case. However, all expenses are paid for our travel and the caretaker seems quite desperate for our professional opinion. The murder has put quite a damper on things as well.

Replies

Riza Hawkeye
Riza Hawkeye
First Nomad

Oct-30-2011 13:33

Leaning over the railing and looking at the small waves crashing against the side of the ship, Riza inhaled deeply and let the misty saltiness of the air fill her lungs. The air was still saturated by the unrelenting fog and it was hard to see very far. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something odd about this ship, but couldn’t place it.

Hearing the familiar sound of footsteps behind her, she didn’t bother turning around. “Yes Marc?” she asked pleasantly, but there was no response. Instead there came a sharp swish as something came flying down on Riza’s right side, and a resultant clang of metal on metal as she spun out of the way. His body being too close, she knew she could not reach for any of her weapons fast enough.

Riza swung out her hand at him, clawing him across the face with her newly-sharpened nails, tearing marks from his left ear down to his lip. She felt warm flesh accumulating under her fingernails and the wetness of blood running down her hand. “What in the world do you think you’re…” she began to yell, but trailed off as she stared at Marc’s face. Riza instantly backed up several feet, bearing an astonished look on her face.

“Marc?” she asked uncertainly, staring at the man before her. The figure was hunched over, clutching his head, completely ignoring the free-blooding wound on the side of his face. Marc let out a bellowing yell and twisted his head to face Riza. She gasped. Staring back at her were two completely white eyes; it looked as if they had rolled up into his head.

Unsure of what to do, she pulled out her pistol. Her hands shook at the idea of shooting a friend, but this wasn’t her friend, whatever this thing was. “Leave us alone if you want to live,” he rasped suddenly in an otherworldly voice, twisting his head at an unnatural angle to stare at her. Just as Riza was about to pull the trigger, Marc gave a mighty sigh and slumped down onto the ground, motionless.

Riza Hawkeye
Riza Hawkeye
First Nomad

Oct-30-2011 13:33

Riza just stood there, staring. After a few moments he began to stir again, and Riza tightened her grip once more. “Damn it! What the hell!” Marc said as he brought his hand to his bleeding face. Lifting his head, Riza could see his eyes had returned to normal. Seeing her standing there extremely white, and looking at the blood on his hand, he was lost for words. “Riza?” he managed, “What…what happened?”

“Get up. Get up,” she said squeakily, pulling him to his feet by the scruff of his collar. Normally nothing scared her, but this was way beyond what she normally dealt with. “Walk,” she commanded, prodding him in the back with her pistol. Joseph’s room was closest, so they headed there. Wrenching the door open, she pushed Marc in forcefully before noticing that both Joseph and Molly were sitting on the bed.

“We have a problem,” Riza said calmly, then grabbed the nearest trash receptacle and retched into it.

Ed Carlyle
Ed Carlyle

Oct-30-2011 19:23

Something made Edward jump in his sleep, making him awake with a start. He rolled over and faced the young twenty-something blonde woman lying next to him. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. It was then that the pain hit his head from drinking so much last night. He sat up and put his feet on the cold floor of the massive ship.

Running his hand through his hair, he sighed. "You alright, babe?" the girl asked. "My head feels like its about to split open," he replied. Then he realized he couldn't even remember her name. It didn't matter to him. She was just another woman who was way too easy to hook up with. But it was the depression that made him want to do this. It was the only way he could find to deal with the divorce two years back. It was a simple story. He cheated on his wife making the divorce his own fault.

He almost lost his job as U.S. Marshall, could have been put in jail if she had pressed charges, and if that happened, he would have lost everything. It was already hard enough having a six year old daughter that he couldn't even see.

So here he was two years later on the ship going to the U.K. either to go on vacation or to get away from life and never go back to the states. He turned back around and faced the girl laying in bed. She had fallen back asleep. Quietly, he grabbed his clothes and returned to his room.

Twenty minutes later, Edward found himself showered, shaved, and back at the bar wasting his money on cheap whiskey and scotch. Every now and then he'd light up a cigarette or a cigar, have a conversation with a guest, and flirt with a girl or two.

It was right around evening, when Edward started to really feel the alcohol taking effect. If he continued to drink, he would get to the point where he wouldn't be able to walk. The only thing that really seemed out of the ordinary was a group of four people. As he was getting up to go talk to the girl sitting at the bar four seats away, a strange man walked past him.

Ed Carlyle
Ed Carlyle

Oct-30-2011 19:35

He had a blank stare and seemed to move with with a smooth walk, arms not swinging. Almost like something right out of the pulps. The man went outside to a girl leaning on the railing, staring at the waves.

He heard the man say something but he was too drunk to understand it. The girl clawed him in the face and he fell over. The man screamed "Damnit! What the hell!" Edward notice blood gushing from his cheek. She had hit him good. She grabbed the collar on his coat and pulled out a gun. The strode past him and down into the corridors to the rooms. He followed them.

After twisting and turning through a maze of hallways and stairs, they came to a room. The girl reached out and knocked. When it was opened she thrust the man into there. Just as the door was being shut, he heard her say, "We have a problem."

He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming. The question now was what the the hell to do next. Introduce himself?

M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa
Sleuth About Town

Oct-30-2011 20:46

Marc closed the door to his room quietly. As he shut the door a gust of cold air filled his room making him shiver. Ignoring it, he placed his briefcase containing a disassembled M1 Thompson sub machine gun.

Something felt wrong. Terribly wrong. Like someone, or rather someTHING was in the room with him.

He looked up at the mirror on the wall and saw a shadow facing him. Marc turned quickly drawing his revolver but the shadow was gone. "Maybe its just the alochol," he said to himself.

In order to fight the nausea from sea sickness, he'd drink at least half a bottle of whiskey and pop a pill. He stayed drunk but not completely trashed.

As he turned back around, he came face to face with the faceless shadow. Marc didnt' have time to swear before he blacked out.

12 minutes later, Marc found himself outside. His head hurt like hell. Riza! there she was! He tried to reach her. She turned around as he doubled over and grabbed his head in pain. He blacked out again. This time he came to, too quickly from a stabbing pain on the side of his face.

"Damnit! What the hell!" he yelled! He looked down at his hands, only find them full of blood.

M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa
Sleuth About Town

Oct-30-2011 20:47

“Riza?” he managed, “What…what happened?”

“Get up. Get up,” she said squeakily, pulling him to his feet by the scruff of his collar. “Walk,” she commanded, prodding him in the back with her pistol. Joseph’s room was closest, so they headed there. Wrenching the door open, she pushed Marc in forcefully before noticing that both Joseph and Molly were sitting on the bed.

“We have a problem,” Riza said calmly, then grabbed the nearest trash receptacle and retched into it.

Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Nov-2-2011 11:47

"Heavens." Molly started up, pulling the neat white silk handkerchief out of her sleeve and holding it to Marcs face. "What on earth happened!"

Marc only looked at her in confusion. Turning her head, Molly regarded Riza who, done retching, seemed the most collected. "Darling, do tell us what occurred, I think Marc is quite nonsensical."

"He attacked me. But it wasn't Marc!" Riza said as Joseph Zeo started to rise, confusion and anger wrinkling his brow. "His eyes were all rolled up and white. He wasn't himself- and he said in a voice...a voice that well, wasn't his own, to 'leave us alone if you want to live'. Before I thought- well I thought I saw a man in the fog who wasn't there. We've had strange feelings, hair-raising sensations all over this boat- I half-think we're going mad."

"You aren't." Molly said quietly, and then recounted her experience. "I'm not the first to believe in the paranormal but there is something unexplainable here and it does not mean us well. All thats left is to decide what to do about it. Clearly we stand a better chance if we do not remain on our own for extended periods of time."

Suddenly a knock came at the door and they all fixed their attention on it. Molly rose and threw it wide to find a man standing there, fist still raised to knock again.

"Can we help you?" she asked curiously.

"Ed Carlyle." he swept his hat off his head and gave a slight bow. "I saw the lady and the gentleman having an altercation- I wanted to make sure everything was alright."

Andrew Corelli
Andrew Corelli
Huntsman

This reply has been deleted by a Moderator

Ed Carlyle
Ed Carlyle

Nov-3-2011 06:22

It took all he had in him to go introduce himself. He lifted his fist to the door and then dropped it. Hi conscience was screaming at him, "Ed, you go right back to that bar and have one more drink." But no, he couldn't just go drink. He heard people talking.

"Clearly we stand a better chance if we do not remain on our own for extended periods of time," someone said.

He knocked and everything got quiet. The door was opened by a girl.

"Can we help you?" she asked curiously.

"Ed Carlyle." he swept his hat off his head and gave a slight bow. "I saw the lady and the gentleman having an altercation- I wanted to make sure everything was alright."

She looked outside to make sure he wasn't followed. When she was sure he was alone, she let him in the small room. There were two girls and two men. One looked pale. Probably sea sickness.

"What did you see?" asked the girl who answered the door.

Ed explained to them what he had seen.

"What's your name?" one of the men asked.

"Edward Carlyle."

"I think I've heard of you before. You're a Marshal, right?"

"Well, yes but-"

"I've read about you," the other man said. "I also hear you're a good case man. How would you like the opportunity of a lifetime?"

"Wait, what? I'm confused...who are you?"

"My name's not important yet. It's either a yes or a no. I know its not your line of work, but you're on this ship because either you're moving, or you're on vacation. We're all detectives. Something strange is going on on this ship and it has got to have something to do with our case."

Ed reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a flask full of gin. He took a large gulp.

"Fine," he said after a long pause. "I'm in. Show me what you got."

Riza Hawkeye
Riza Hawkeye
First Nomad

Nov-20-2011 16:41

Riza took the final step, her shoe touching down upon the worn brown dock. She exhaled a huge sigh, relieved to finally be off that godforsaken ship. She had barely gotten any sleep at all during the entire journey. Her eyes were ringed with dark circles and even her pristine clothing could not hide the haggardness of her facial expression. “Let’s head to the bar first, shall we?” Riza said to the other detectives who had gathered around, similarly enjoying the feel of solid ground and the looseness in the air. There were murmurs of agreement. A cool breeze blew through and slightly ruffled their hair.

***
Riza pushed open the door to the pub, instantly hit in the face with the strong stench of alcohol. She walked into the gloom, followed by the others who milled around and took various free seats. Riza seated herself at the bar and raised a finger to catch the bartender’s attention. “Gimme your strongest whiskey.” The bartender nodded and reached below the counter to fix the drink. Plopping the dingy glass foaming over the rim onto the counter, he gave her a quick look-over and turned to take other orders.

“Are you sure you should be drinking that?” Molly whispered into Riza’s ear, taking the empty seat to her left and raising an eyebrow. Riza lowered the glass halfway to her mouth and set it down, staring at Molly in silence for a good minute, both of them aware of what she was talking about. Riza drew her mouth into a thin line and pushed the drink towards her, getting up and going to sit in an empty chair in the dark corner next to a shaggy-haired man huddled over his drink.

“Dia dhuit,” the man said in a low voice, tipping his flat cap.

“What?” Riza asked, turning to look at him.

The man looked up from his mug. “It means hello. You’re not from around here, are you?” he said in a thick Irish brogue. He looked her up and down. “Damian Byrne,” he said, offering his hand.

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