Vahktang

What is she, six?No, strike that. Even six years have seen death by this time. This is a time of death, disease, etc. We have _a lot_ of kids dying, let alone adults.

Thomas Parcel groaned again and wrapped his cloak about him. The flux had grasped his bowels and would not let go. These woods were not condusive to good health in the second place. "No, go on," he had told the other trappers. "I'll be along in a minute." That had been a half hour ago. The gathering gloom was not alarming, but would soon be frightening. Strong men had died of the flux. He hoped that with the death of the witches, the flux would be more natural, too. He thought of just hitching his britches and getting home safe. But then a cut across his gut told him 'maybe a few minutes more'. He waited and endured and promised to be home before full dark. When the spirits walked.

That is great. Church didn't try witches.Civil authority did.

Thomas Parcel looked over the two. Not to count the chickens before they were hatched, but the Mercy's were not poor. If they were convicted and executed, most of their estate would be seized. Their goods, chattel, and land would be auctioned off. With a percentage going to the church. Gods will is his will. 'I would much rather my neighbors be innocent,' he thought. 'Of at least this crime. 'We are all sinners. 'I will pray twice as hard tonight before bed. 'For their souls, innocent or not.'

Money - Money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money "Hi honey, I'm home. Put dinner on the table. "And I brought home 4 hunting buddies, too. Only two? And 12 and 8? We're starting a new country here. Or are these the only ones that survived? And it was a bad rep for New England. And it took like 50+ years for population densities to regain their pre war levels. Vahktang the Historian, signing out.

I'm in. I _was_ going to play Agatha Harkness, widow woman, who buried six kids and three husbands. The first died from eating poison mushrooms. The second died from eating poison mushrooms. The third died from having his head bashed in. (He wouldn't eat the poison mushroom.) OK, getting all the Monty Python out here in the non game thread:

"Adelaide sent information of all our crimes to the press and to the authorities."Which one was yours again? "The tiger, drunk while hunting? "If we can convince them that she was insane, that her perceptions were off, her accusations baseless, then we are all safe. "If not... "You may be safe from the authorities, William, but you're not safe from Society. "Do you remember anyone who was ever 'shunned', because of crime, divorce, just plain bad manners or bad judgement? "Not a pretty sight. No parties. No outings. Polite 'I'm sorry, we aren't home' when you try to call or come calling. "And you end up alone, at home, killing your liver, until it kills you or you kill yourself. "And your fortune will turn also, don't think it won't. Without the contacts, without the access, you too can die penniless. "No one is immune here. "And Luke, Anna? "If you think you may be low now, you can go lower still. Even you have people you turn away from when walking down the streets. That's who you will be. "Our only chance is to stick together. "If we all agree, if the story is straight, Victoria will not have died in vain.

We won! But only after the death of my beloved Victoria. Curse that killer. And, if we play our cards right, we could still come up roses. (Yes, after the game is over, I'll stop talking in cliches) The story goes: Detective call in all the suspects into a single room, make them reveal who is real murderer. It is discovered that all suspects are guilty. They kill detective, the only one not involved who knows. Clean the place up, and get away with murder. Let's do that.

"No!"I'll be killed. "We have to get off this island, now. "We can spin this the way we want. "She was obviously insane, a murderer herself. "She was taking her real guilt out on our innocence. He holds up the diary. "A fake. And I can get experts to testify. "We can do this for all of us. "If we all hold together, it'll be like Hearst and Ince. Lots of questions and no answers. But we have to hold together. "What do you say?"

Tom looks at the body of his love, ignoring the crowd at the doorway behind him. He dimly hears what Luke has to say."Poison. That's how we did my fiancee." He turns and faces the crowd. "She was going to ruin me, ruin us. She saw Victoria and I together and guessed the truth. We still loved each other. And there was no place in my life for her. "She would have told her father. He would have made my name Mudd on both sides of the Atlantic. "I had no choice. "I killed for love. "And now my dear, my love, my...Victoria is dead. Everyone sees that he is about to break down, his eyes are glistening with almost shed tears. "I told you we should have gotten out. That we would die in here. "That we shouldn't (sob) shouldn't sleep at all. He is silent for a moment, then collects himself. "And now, her body must be taken care of. (snif) She always wanted to be cremated. I'll burn down the house." And he rushes the crowd, in attempt to make it past them to the fireplace below. They stop him and Luke and Bill wrestle him back until he is on the bed, next to Victoria. Tom screams in a voice that out sounds the nearby sea. The men lift him up and try to bodily carry him to another room, but he is struggling too much. Luke produces a blackjack and uses it on an opportune spot on Tom, and Tom slumps, limp. The men now find it much easier work to drag him to another room and leave him there, but he is not quite unconscious. He says softly, before slipping away: "Adelaide. Kill a sister. Kill anyone. Has money. Probably knows Kant. This is just a thrill kill for them. Beware-" And the door is closed on him. I accuse Dragonqueen (Adelaide Welsh)

I believe this is the place for non RP comments. So: We do?Guess we're not gamers then. Makes sense, Brits in the 30's would want to die alone.

"No, it's a trap. "If you go there and don't die, the Captain will probably arrive to kill you. We need a place sheltered from sight on the mainland, light a signal fire there, hope a sea going ship investigates. And hope that Mr. Kant thinks we're not smart enough to think of this. "We should arm ourselves. Club furniture if that is best. He picks up a large chair and with great violence hurls it towards the stone fireplace shattering it. He picks up a largish piece. quote] We must all go together. And please, nobody take another sip from their glass." "Good idea. No more food or water. Even sealed containers. With Mr. Kant's wealth he could have seen to the food being poisoned at the factory site." "But won't we get hungry," says Adelaide "And thirsty," adds Claudia. "I plan to be off this island before it gets that bad." He stalks the room looking at each, sizing them up, checking on who he could trust and who could be reliable. "We'd do well to figure out the rest of the poem. Kant probably styles himself an aesthete and will probably try to stay with the theme. "The first one was choking himself, already done. "The second was oversleeping. So we must not sleep tonight. Tom does not mention that he suspect the second one to be a slow acting poison, one already ingested by one of the group. His look lingers on Victoria for a moment. "There's a chopping one, so stay away from knives and such, or just be careful. "Not the season for bees, but is anyone allergic? "The 'red herring' may be a red herring or it may be that he has a ship that will kill us if we try to make a raft. "Does anyone else have any thoughts?" "And I think staying in the house is the greatest mistake. "It would be what is most expected. I think we would best survive if we did what was not expected. The house is probably the most trapped. Outside would be harder. Lets gather our belongings and make camp out on the shore. "Keep a fire going, signal, stay awake and a watch. "Luke? You know morse code? SOS, Mayday, and such, right?"

"That was in the past," says Tom. "But we're in the present. We're on an island off the coast of England, not on St. Helena. "We'll start a fire on the coast, a signal fire. A boat will see and we'll get away. We'll burn his books to start it, burn his furniture to stoke it. "Who's with me? Luke? Bill? "The only thing that could stop us is the weather..."

Tom stood up after the announcement, and yelled at no one in the room, looking for spy holes. "Slander! "Base Slander! "If this is some party game it's just not funny. "Kant. If your here, 'giggling' at your 'joke', be a man show yourself. "I killed no one. I am as certain as I am standing here that Victoria did not do a _double_ murder. "We are ladies and gentlemen here. I am certain that without exception these 'crimes' you claim would be found without merit in a court of law." Silence answers him. He wants to curse, but cannot, except for a: "Blast!" He begins to stalks from the room to go outside to cool off, but stops when he notices Victoria weeping. He sits beside her, takes her in his arm and makes soothing sounds. "Not funny, Kant," he says quietly. "He'll pay for this," he says, so low that only Victoria can hear.

'Rhodesia,' wondered Tom. 'Where in Europe is Rhodesia? One of those postage stamp countries created after the Great War?" 'Ah, Africa. He thought I meant the _Dark_ Continent. Must be all this talk about Niggers.' After dinner, Tom produces a silver cigarette case and offers it to the assembled. More than a few take one, then accept his gift of a light. The bar seems to be serve oneself, so Tom searches for a good malted scotch, then notices that there is no ice. Ah well, one servent, must expect to rough it. 'Hope we don't have to make our own beds,' he thinks. His position behind the bar makes him the de facto bar tender, a position he fills, finishes all the drinks, then vacates. 'Someone else can take the next turn.' Though, from his experience, people will wait, he goes finally for a refill, and he is again, the bartender. Nothing to be done. Now is a good time to lose a little money to Mr. Horton. "Deal me in," says Tom.

"Well, while I was in America, I met quite a lot of niggers, porters, maids, and such. Though most in polite society there prefer using the term 'coloureds'. Can't see why." He makes a 'volcano' out of his mashed potatoes and pours in gravy for 'lava'. He stops when he notices Claudia watching him. He breaks the dam and the gravy flows over the meal. "Sorry. Habit from when I was a child." "Has anyone been to the continent, lately? Havn't the opportunity to go myself, yet." I was wondering when that was going to come up.Now that the taint is off, let's use it in character.

Tom pasted a smile back on his face to match 'Billy's'. He knew the type. Bonhomie. Life of the party. Reminded him of that annoying Nicky Holiday fellow that he met a few weeks ago. But, 'a fool and his money' and all that. "I agree with you Luke. Character makes a man, not his money." He shakes both gentleman's hands, and, when their attention is drawn away, sits next to Victoria. He speaks to her softly, smiling. No one outside of 5' will even know they are talking. And there is no one even close to that. "I missed you, Victoria." She did the same, long experience having her check her surroundings and make it look casual. "And I, you, Tom." "Will we see each other?" "I'm certain we will. At dinner. After dinner drinks." "Dancing?" She remembers that he dances divinely, a strong lead. She felt warm and safe in your arms. "Yes. But for now, I think we should engage that sweepstakes winner over there," she said, indicating Claudia VanCluesan," and the poet over there," indicating Adelaide. "And the quiet beauty off in the corner," he said, indicating Lady Melia. "I didn't think you would miss her, Tom. Go and be friendly." He began to get up but she touched his sleeve and he settled down again. "But not too friendly." Tom then did get up and moved over to Lady Melia, approaching her and then holding out his hand, as Victoria shifted over to one of the other ladies. "Good afternoon, my good lady. This seems to be the day of self introductions. I am Tom Baker, lately of America. And you are?"

Everybody remember. It's the 1930's. Smoke like chimneys, drink like fish.

Tom Baker looked at the small boat and then to the far away island. He disliked boats. Had a tendency for sea sickness. Well, nothing to be done. He took a sip from his silver flask and slipped it back into his inside coat pocket. 'Ah, Victoria is on the boat already. Nothing to be done then. I hope we get rooms close together.' 'Who's the clown with the orange hair. Ah yes. Horton, in oil. I've met and worked well with Texas oil barons, this one shouldn't be so different.' Baker dismissed the cab, threw the stub of cigarette on the ground, and hefted his two suitcases and made his way to the quay. He glad handed the captain, gave him a light greeting and handed over his luggage for the man to secure. Carefully make his way across the gang plank, he looked for a place to sit down, eyeing enviously the place next to Virginia. He finally made his decision and swayed his way over to her, looking for the invitation to sit next to her. In the mean time... "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Since our host does not seem to be here, allow me to introduce myself. "I am Tom Baker, just returned from an extended stay in America, if you were wondering about my accent. "I recognize Mr. William Christopher Horton the fifth," and this gets a nod, a tip of the hat and a 'cherio' from him, "and I am already acquainted with Mrs. Victoria Butler. But I am sorry to say that I don't have the pleasure of knowing the rest of you." He then waits for the others to introduce themselves.

Indeed yes, I will be available by then and would love to play. Nicky Holiday here. Younger brother of Lady Holiday. Reconteur, man about town, snappy dresser, without a dime to his name. Life of the party. "Anybody for tennis?" (hope I make the cut)

And I would have died on the first night again.[sing] Tradition, tradition. Tradition. [/sing] Thanks everyone. Fun game. I missed???Must be getting old. Or maybe it's this being dead thing. Baning means no kill.They get in their noses, they're allergic, just sets them off for the night. No.Someday someone is going to do a statistical analysis on our WW games to get some better answers. We almost have enough for a run. IC is fine for me. And I was going to say:

While outwardly calm, Lord Washima is, well, inwardly calm. He has seen death before and it does not scare him. He has been dead before and this does not scare him either. As a matter of fact, the afterlife is rather (and here he looks at Lady Celes) rather enticing. But all life must have a purpose and it seems that the after life does, too. A murder committed. A murderer to be found. Shana. Giggly youngster. Acting much too young for her age. She has something to hide, he thinks. OOC: An accusation for Ayshela- Shana

'She called me Shin. 'She called me Shin. 'Oh joy. 'Oh modified rapture. Mm, lunch. Cold cuts. Lord Washima watches the others make sandwiches until he thinks he can do it without prompting, then joins them. He sucessfully makes a MLT - a mutton, lettuce and tomato sandwich, where the mutton is lean and the tomato is ripe. He then sits at an end table and formally eats. The meal is quite good and he begins to wonder if there is any beer available.

LOL. IC: Lord Washima watches all the black clad 'scenery changers' moving about the household. His opinion on their ability to protect them was verified by the death of the one in the celler. He wondered what a 'Winter Garden' was, and how it would prevent the murderer from escaping. He stood, bowed to Lady Celes and offered his arm. "My dear lady. If you would be so kind to accompany me, I think the 'Winter Garden' may be a more pleasent experience than this 'room of bad news.'" If it was a more or less normal garden then he knew a good number of classic poems he could adapt to recite to the lady. If it wasn't, then he would adapt. As to who the actual killer was... That Javier fellow. How much did they know of him? A new comer. A stranger. A prime suspect. OOC: I accuse Xanthus- Javier Because _somebody_ has to cast the first vote. I swear next game I'm going to change my character name to No vote yet.

Lord Washima hears the news and sighs. It seems that this is his Karma on the wheel. To be involved in a murder investigation. He hopes and that this one has a better outcome than the last. He turns to the assembled around the table, bowing slightly. He knows he is not a public speaker, but he tries anyway. "Ladies, gentlemen. "It is unseemly that this gathering be marred by violence. "It is my hope that the tragedy that has occured is the only violence that does occur. He clears his throat. "There is one here who is rife with violence. One who lives it, breathes it, is overcome by it. "I speak of course of the kami, known as Wile E. Coyote. "I believe that he is capable of such acts, and we must defend ourselves against him. "And I believe it was Sun-Tzu who said: 'The best defence is a good offence.' "Come quietly, kami. I mean you no real harm. The harm you do was your nature. Do not make me unseath my sword. OOC: I accuse Eyremon- Wile E. Cyote (WWVII)