I extend my hand and shake maybe just slightly too enthusiastic. I'm wearing my "good" suit, cheaper by far than Joseph's worst suit.
Well played". Anatoly raises an eyebrow in appreciation of Amadeus's quick wit.
"Now let's check this place out, and see what we can find. In particular look for another entrance, preferable one to the grounds, and let's see if we can jimmy it open. Also, look for any secret rooms or passages. I don't know how much time we have so let's make haste".
"Perhaps if we don't find anything here one of us can feign sickness from the gas leak, and ask for a bathroom. Perhaps there we can find egress as well".
The door in the upper right corner opens to a dark and dusty room filled with lumber and other construction supplies. In the light of your flashlights, you can see that there is another door on the opposite side of the tangled heap but you would have to squeeze through the supplies and get very dirty.
The door on the short side of the L opens to a cool wine cellar, stocked with expensive bottles- though not on the wall facing toward the center of the house. Since this is odd, Anatoly presses his fingers against the wall and finds a seam- there's a secret door in the wine cellar, apparently.
Meanwhile, in a limousine driving through Hollywood.
"What a pleasure to meet you both. Yes, it's been some time hasn't it Joseph?"
Olivia takes a cigarette from her small purse, holding it in a gloved hand.
"It must have been '26? No, '27 when I saw you last at your cousin Woodie's soiree out in Wilshire. I think you said you were heading to Egypt for a short time, is my memory off?"
"Ralphie, Evelyn- how ever did you find yourselves so unfortunate as to meet an alleycat like Joseph? He's always looking for trouble if you believe his cousin."
You chat amiably in the limo and before long you arrive at an upscale restaurant downtown where you're whisked to a private table attended by a very solicitous waiter. The menu has the most expensive club sandwich you've ever heard of in your life.
"I have found something here gentlemen. Please keep an eye out, as I'm sure it won't be pleasant".
Amadeus makes a small bow. "My powers of persuasion are gifts from the spirits, sir. It would be rude not to make use of a gift." Seeing the secret door, Amadeus nods to Anatoly and makes a 'you first' gesture.
I arch my eyebrows at the menu...well, I'll be certainly ordering that club sandwich...
I smile to Olivia Joseph and I are part of a...think tank, if you will...we're working on a bit of a research project.
The first things that strike Anatoly are the sounds of human voices in hysterical passion and animal lust and a mossy, earthy pungent scent. As the masonry door pivots open, the Russian archaeologist finds a shocking tableau that he will remember for the rest of his days: men and women, nude and fornicating in a tangle of limbs slick with sweat and... something else. You recognize one man in the tangle from Henslowe's safe deposit box photos- that must be Samson Trammel himself participating in the debauchery.
But what's more far disturbing is the Mouth.
A six foot tall fleshy mouth with crooked yellow teeth grows in the wall of the secret chamber, dripping a sticky liquid as its two meter long questing tongue participates in the orgy happening before it. Women and men groan with ecstasy at its touch, redoubling their vigorous intercourse. A large Mexican man with a face mask, rubber gloves and a plastic lined garbage can collects the mouth's secretions as the orgy continues around him.
"Eyes above!"
I arch my eyebrows at the menu...well, I'll be certainly ordering that club sandwich...
I smile to Olivia Joseph and I are part of a...think tank, if you will...we're working on a bit of a research project.
Ms. Clarendon seems intrigued.
"Really now? Is research your line of work, Ralph? I've done a bit of reading myself when I wanted to try my hand at screen writing, but I've just gotten terribly busy lately. Of course, it's a good problem to have and I'm not complaining."
[dice=Stability, spending 1 point]1d6+1
[dice=Stability, spending 1 point]1d6+1"Eyes above!"
Amadeus quickly looks away from the enormous mouth, convincing himself he surely must have hallucinated it. But the grotesque orgy turns his stomach.
"Oh, I'm sure you know how it goes. At the time, he was only a friend of a friend..."
Once they've arrived at the restaurant, Evelyn idly flips through the menu, not even bothering to look at the prices. She sees the sandwich, but looks for something a little on the lighter side - a salad, perhaps.
The guard collecting the secretions happens to glance up toward the wine cellar door.
"INTRUDERS!", he shouts, going for a holstered pistol. The orgy continues despite his alarm, though Trammel looks up from his position in the debauch to notice the two investigators.
I arch my eyebrows at the menu...well, I'll be certainly ordering that club sandwich...
I smile to Olivia Joseph and I are part of a...think tank, if you will...we're working on a bit of a research project.
Ms. Clarendon seems intrigued.
"Really now? Is research your line of work, Ralph? I've done a bit of reading myself when I wanted to try my hand at screen writing, but I've just gotten terribly busy lately. Of course, it's a good problem to have and I'm not complaining."
I rock my head back and forth laterally as if to say "sort of." My expertise is more in acquisition and appraisal than research, though I believe my skills will still come in handy for this project. I assist all manner of collectors in their pursuits. You've been busy indeed. I quite enjoyed you in (whatever film she was last in.) How is it that you know our mutual friend? He mentioned you two were acquainted, but not how.
I rock my head back and forth laterally as if to say "sort of." My expertise is more in acquisition and appraisal than research, though I believe my skills will still come in handy for this project. I assist all manner of collectors in their pursuits. You've been busy indeed. I quite enjoyed you in (whatever film she was last in.) How is it that you know our mutual friend? He mentioned you two were acquainted, but not how.I arch my eyebrows at the menu...well, I'll be certainly ordering that club sandwich...
I smile to Olivia Joseph and I are part of a...think tank, if you will...we're working on a bit of a research project.
Ms. Clarendon seems intrigued.
"Really now? Is research your line of work, Ralph? I've done a bit of reading myself when I wanted to try my hand at screen writing, but I've just gotten terribly busy lately. Of course, it's a good problem to have and I'm not complaining."
"I mostly know Joseph through his cousin, Haywood. Woodie produced a film I was in back in '27, "Kiss of the Siren". This was when Errol Flynn was on top of the heap, a sword and sandal film. I was mostly doing supporting roles back then, but Haywood insisted I come to his party after we wrapped shooting."
Your salads and sandwiches arrive shortly, along with refreshers on your coffee, milk or Coca-Colas.
"But tell me more about this project of yours, don't keep a gal in the dark!"
Amadeus freezes until the man shouts, his fascination and disgust warring in new and exciting ways. Instead, he grabs Anatoly and begins running back the way they came, looking to slam the secret door shut and block it if possible!
Trammel disentangles himself from the throbbing mob of bodies and pushes on the opposite wall from the wine cellar entrance, running nude into the opposite side of the basement. The guard fires his pistol at Amadeus- but one of the celebrants throws herself into the line of fire and blocks the shot before slumping to the floor, panting in ecstasy as blood pumps from the bullet hole.
Amadeus throws the stone door shut, the sound of another gunshot muffled as it hits the stone. Hurriedly, he throws wine racks against the wall, bottles of red wine crashing to the floor and soaking his and Anatoly's workmen clothes. Freddie has come running from the other side of the basement.
Amadeus takes the stairs two at a time, running up to the kitchen after slapping Anatoly back to his senses, Freddie trailing in the rear. You can hear more bottles breaking as the guard comes running after you.
You throw open the door at the top of the steps, racing through the kitchen and out the servant's entrance. Gilbert looks quite surprised, before he hears another gunshot from downstairs and starts running after you onto the property, pulling out his own pistol.
Anatoly, running on pure instinct, sprints serpentine across the grass and only gets a slight graze. There's shouting in the house, dogs are barking in the neighborhood.
Amadeus doesn't look back, but runs like a bat out of hell.
Gilbert is right on your heels, keeping pace with the fleeing trio. He takes aim with his pistol as you're jumping into the car.
A hot pain flashes up Amadeus' side as his knee buckles. A red stain punctuated by a singed hole is in his side.
You dive into the car and Freddy kicks it into gear, tires squealing out of the cul-de-sac.
Freddy yells out to Anatoly and Amadeus as he runs. "What the heck did you see in there?!?!"
He'll then fire a shot off toward the house to give his pursuers pause as they make their get away.
Freddy retaliates, sending Gilbert crumpling to the grass as the trio peels out.
Amadeus keeps silent until he hits the car seat and then he cries out as white pain flashes up his back. "DRIIIIVE!" He gasps and grabs at the hole, feeling himself nearly pass out as he presses to keep his insides inside! "Dammit, man! We saw ... something terrible and wonderful. A mouth in the wall, but A REAL MOUTH. A tongue from some other-worldly thing that licked an orgy of bodies writhing in terrible ecstasy and dripped its mucus onto them. A Mexican was collecting the pus, I believe that's what the drug is MADE OF. Now, I'm bleeding, think I might lose consciousness. I need a doctor, Elliot, a doctor or I'm in trouble."
"A mouth?! Like that creepy statue that you keep talking about?" Freddy chances a look at the mystic for a second and sees his wound. "Hold tight man, don't go toward those spirits yet. We'll find Dr Malley and get you fixed right up."
Anatoly shakes his head in shock. He reaches for the wound made when he was grazed by the bullet. Shot...I've been shot... but what I saw. I almost wish the bullet had entered my brain. I'll never be able to sleep now.
He then realizes how bad of shape Amadeus is, and tries best he can for triage.
First Aid. (Spending 4 points)
"Here. Let me see if I can slow down the bleeding".
Anatoly grabs the first aid kit from under the seat while Freddy drives. He sterilizes the instruments with alcohol before getting sutures in. Luckily for Amadeus, the bullet went straight through his love handle and it's a matter of stanching the flow of blood and keeping the stitches neat and straight. It's a painful process, since pulling over is a bad idea until a few miles are between you and the scene. Nonetheless, Amadeus will survive and be back on his feet.
"ARGH! Watch that needle! I'm certain the mouth I found, it's JUST A COPY. I SAW THE REAL THING, MAN. IT IS REAL!" Amadeus nearly shouts as Anatoly's needle dances in and out of his flesh. "I saw the real thing. It's... I will never forget that tongue, man."
Freddy thinks about all the fire fights that he survived in the war. "If I could make it out of those trenches, I can make it out of anything. God isn't going to let me die here." He whispers under his breath, trying to keep it together while steering.
Stability #1
Stability #2
1d6+2 Stability #1
1d6+2 Stability #2
Anatoly's mind will forever be etched with that vulgar, disgusting mouth so similar to the one he saw in Joy Grove only scant weeks ago.
Joseph cuts in. Oh, that was a long time ago! My brother took me to one of her movie screenings, and well, we just hit it off!.....Ah, good times, good times... When the waiter comes by, Joseph idly orders the most expensive food in the menu as well as "the strongest drink you have, chap"
Olivia laughs lightly. "Oh, yes, of course. It was at the screening that we first met! Forgive me, darling, it has been a little while."
"The details are rather boring, but we've been looking into all manners of oddities and curios," Evelyn interjects, glancing at Ralph meaningfully - they had not really decided on how frank they wanted to be with their investigation. She idly twirls her fork in her salad as she speaks.
"The truth is, we've been following up on the work of one Professor George Ayers. Perhaps you've heard of him?"
"The details are rather boring, but we've been looking into all manners of oddities and curios," Evelyn interjects, glancing at Ralph meaningfully - they had not really decided on how frank they wanted to be with their investigation. She idly twirls her fork in her salad as she speaks.
"The truth is, we've been following up on the work of one Professor George Ayers. Perhaps you've heard of him?"
Ms. Clarendon shakes her head, more in bemusement than in denial.
"There's a name I haven't heard in some time. I remember George, UCLA professor right? Ancient religions? When I was starting out, this must have been 1923, I was researching a script I wanted to write. He was helpful, but... intense."
"At the time, I was looking for people that could help me climb the ladder, so to speak, so when he offered to introduce me to his friend... Echavarria, that's what it was, I said sure. But after going to a few of their parties, I realized he and his "inner circle" were very bad people. Depraved perverts, Satanists. I didn't want career help from anyone like that so I never spoke to any of them again."
I nod a bit, listening to her story, thankful for Dr. Malley introducing the subject. What was your screenplay about, if you don't mind me asking? We've heard similar terrible things about Echavarria, and I'm curious why Ayers thought he'd be helpful...
Amadeus groans as he leverages himself back into a sitting position, his side dully aching. "I saw God. Pray you do not meet him."
I nod a bit, listening to her story, thankful for Dr. Malley introducing the subject. What was your screenplay about, if you don't mind me asking? We've heard similar terrible things about Echavarria, and I'm curious why Ayers thought he'd be helpful...
"It was a treatment about Boudica, the Celtic queen. I thought it would be useful to have research advice, but it wasn't the type of project that would do well in the cinema- no one wants to see an uprising against the Romans unless it's Christ and having a female lead... too ambitious."
"George was or still is a professor of Archaeology at UCLA, focused mainly on ancient religions. He was helpful, but certainly not someone I wanted to remain in contact with after I saw what he and his friends really did."
I smile encouragingly Well, I for one would have been there on opening night. I've always had an interest in post-Christ Britannia. I'd hate to dredge up bad memories, but was Echavarria knowledgable about Boudica at all? From what I've heard, his interests don't really intersect with that time period. Or was Ayers just trying to introduce you to that unsavory business?
"Oh no. It was the furthest thing from Echavarria's mind, I think. Ayers was the only person I consulted about the script and I believe he wanted to get me involved with that perverted crowd he was running with, thinking that I was a naive young hopeful that he could exploit. It was George, Echavarria and... oh, yes: Samson Trammel. There's a name you'll never forget, some real estate broker."
She returns to her cobb salad.
"Anyhow, those days are long since gone and good riddance to all of them."
"Yes, good riddance indeed," Evelyn replies with a deep frown as she continues to pick through her salad, finding that she has lost her appetite. Picking up on Olivia's hesitance, the good doctor smiles reassuringly. "Is there anything else you can tell us about Ayers? Anything at all? Even if it might sound unimportant or outlandish. I can assure you, dear, professionals like ourselves are well acquainted with confidentiality and... strangeness."
I open my mouth to say something pushy and stupid and then let Dr. Malley say her much better worded statement instead. Rather, I take a bite of my sandwich. It's a good club sandwich, but is it a $5 club sandwich? I certainly hope that either Joseph or Olivia is getting lunch.
Freddy's face reddens at Amadeus's blasphemy, but tries to keep his cool. "You're a known kook, so I'll let that pass." Freddy grumbles.
He drives on but looks to his companions in the rear view mirror and changes the subject."So this nectar, you think it comes from that mouth? Nothing has ever come from the statues mouth, right?"
"I think it came from the blasphemous mouth of a god, yes. And that hideous tongue. It was the procreative juices of a thing from beyond all time and space that mankind has ever looked upon. I may never sleep well again."
"Yes, good riddance indeed," Evelyn replies with a deep frown as she continues to pick through her salad, finding that she has lost her appetite. Picking up on Olivia's hesitance, the good doctor smiles reassuringly. "Is there anything else you can tell us about Ayers? Anything at all? Even if it might sound unimportant or outlandish. I can assure you, dear, professionals like ourselves are well acquainted with confidentiality and... strangeness."
Olivia waits for the waiter to leave earshot after his tenth trip to the table to see if anyone needs anything- water, coffee, pie, anything at all.
She leans in, speaking quietly.
"At one of Echavarria's parties- this was more than ten years ago at least- I took a wrong turn headed to the bathroom to powder my nose and I saw Echavarria having sex with a tangle of people on one of his couches. Women and men. And I swear- the couch looked like it had a- a mouth on it. That was participating."
"It can't be true, of course. But even all this time later I can't get the image out of my head."
The club sandwich is pretty good. But not $5 good, especially with a Depression on.
The club sandwich is pretty good. But not $5 good, especially with a Depression on.
I shudder at the mention of a couch with a mouth. That must have been some trick of the light, but it still sounds ghastly. I hope I never see anything like that.
"I... see. Well, being the pervert that he is, I'm sure that it was just some lewd piece of furniture he acquired someplace," Evelyn reasons, utterly disgusted by the mental image, but otherwise convinced that such a thing could not possibly exist. Still, it did remind her of that bizarre statue...
"My apologies for dredging up such unpleasant memories," she adds with a weak smile. "I'm afraid that I've killed my own appetite."