Maze of Madness: IC Thread
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Ebb on 19-04-2013, 22:45:01</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ebb</strong> on <strong>19-04-2013, 22:45:01</strong>
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				This is the In-Character (IC) thread for the game "Maze of Madness", a Cthulhu adventure. This is essentially where the game is played. Any material posted in this thread which is not In-Character (such as die rolls, whispers from the GM or side comments) should be put into spoiler tags. <br><br>When posting in this thread, please use the header provided in the first post below. For the first time, hit "Quote", then modify to fit your character. For later posts you may find it easier to just Quote one of your own previous posts. If you need help with this, please just ask.<br><br><strong>This thread contains:</strong><br>- The game!<br><br><strong>Maze of Madness links:</strong><br>Game Materials (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=171733.0)<br>IC thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=171735.0)<br>OOC thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=171736.0)<br>Recruitment thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=171554.0)<br>Wiki page (http://elliquiy.com/wiki/Maze_of_Madness)<br>Game Rules (http://catchyourhare.com/files/Cthulhu%20Dark.pdf)<br><br><br><strong>Characters</strong><br>X, a Y, played by Z<br>X, a Y, played by Z<br>X, a Y, played by Z<br>X, a Y, played by Z<br>X, a Y, played by Z<br>X, a Y, played by Z<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ebb</strong> on <strong>20-04-2013, 04:51:50</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/18/Eldersign34.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Frank Williams</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>In the Study (Just as much as we need to tell where you are)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> His close and dear friends (List important people who are with you)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Awaiting their doom (A general very quick idea of what's going on)</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>And then the bulk of your post goes here....
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				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ebb</strong> on <strong>24-04-2013, 18:52:47</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/18/Eldersign34.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>GM POST</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>55 Beacon Street</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> All of the PCs, Frank Walker, Dominic</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Meet and Greet</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>It is October 16th, 1925. It is unseasonably cold for Boston, the leaves having started to abandon their reds and golds leaving some trees already bare. A crisp wind blows through the nearly empty streets. Last night the Pittsburgh Pirates beat the Washington Senators in Pittsburgh to win the 22nd World Series. Sharing the front page of the Boston Globe is news that Germany and France have both signed the Locarno Pact, ensuring that the dreadful violence of the Great War will never again be repeated. Truly it seems there is cause for optimism in the world, a feeling at odds with the uncertain chill that each of you feel as you approach 55 Beacon Street.<br><br>Frank Walker’s prestigious home looms above you. The lights in his neighbors’ houses are dark, and the street is nearly deserted. This is an evening to be out celebrating on the town, perhaps, but Frank has chosen instead to invite you to his home for a small, informal dinner party. He is opening a photographic exhibition next week, he has said, and would like all of your impressions to help him select which pictures to display. It can be surmised that he is interested in a true cross section of humanity, as certainly your company bears few common ties save for your friendship with the genial and generous man.<br><br>You are each greeted at the door in turn by Frank himself and made to feel at home in his sitting room with your choice of tea, coffee, fruit juice or spring water. Dinner has been catered from Martin’s, a local seafood restaurant of good renown, and the smell of clam chowder wafts into the room. A roaring fire in the marble fireplace paints the room with flickering light, eclipsing the tastefully downplayed electrical fixtures.<br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">AnneMary Walker</div><div class="spoiler_body">You arrive early, and over Frank’s protests help to prepare the house for guests. Your brother seems mostly at ease, perhaps a bit nervous at having to make so many introductions this evening between his disparate circles of friends. He is cagey about the guest list, mentioning that he has a surprise for you. A surprise which is later revealed to be one Markus Smith, invited without your knowledge.<br></div></div><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Allister Cooper</div><div class="spoiler_body">You are next to arrive. Frank easily falls into the easy pattern of conversation from your school days, sharing incidents designed to mildly embarrass each other in front of MaryAnne. He is careful to touch only lightly on the events of the previous year, since he last saw you in Boston, perhaps sensing that such matters are best discussed privately. He does quickly take you aside with a quick firm handshake, though, and tell you that “If you ever need anything, even just to talk...”<br><br>Your practiced agent’s eye may note that the house is not particularly secure. There are no decorative iron bars on the ground floor windows, unlike some other homes in the district, and the lock on the front door is perfunctory at best.<br></div></div><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Maggie Delaney</div><div class="spoiler_body">You arrive third, and are quickly introduced to AnneMary and Allister. Frank seems very happy to see you, as his previous two attempts to meet you for dinner since your return to the country have fallen through due to his erratic travel schedule. Your intuition tells you that Frank is currently without a lady in his life, though he mentions nothing overtly related to the point.<br><br>He is happy to talk to you about England, a country he has travelled to on many occasions.<br></div></div><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Harrison Cartwright</div><div class="spoiler_body"><br>You arrive next, almost simultaneously with Maxine White, for whom you obviously hold the door open. You recognize Maggie, of course. You feel your ever present reporter’s pad inside your jacket pocket, though of course nothing newsworthy is likely to happen this evening. The smell of the food from the next room takes you back to the rare special occasions when such fare was served in your home growing up.<br></div></div><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Maxine White</div><div class="spoiler_body">You meet Harrison Cartwright on your way in, as both of your taxis arrive at nearly the same time. When you arrive Frank is eager to show off to you his newest acquisition, a Victor Orthophonic Victrola, which he has obtained through family connections before they are available to the general public. He seems especially proud of his collection of five “electrically recorded” discs of classical music, and as he demonstrates the operation of the machine to you, you sense that he’s trying to tell whether or not you’re impressed.<br></div></div><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Markus Smith</div><div class="spoiler_body">On your arrival Frank hands you an envelope which you later find to contain two expensive tickets to the Charlie Chaplin film The Gold Rush, playing at the Nickerbock Theatre. It’s a luxury that you don’t often engage in. To your surprise Frank’s sister AnneMary is already present, along with three other people to whom you’re quickly introduced. Through a doorway from the sitting room you see Frank’s extensive library, though he has never struck you as a particularly literary sort. It may be that most of the leather-bound volumes are more for show than for edification.<br></div></div><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Jonathan Hellyer</div><div class="spoiler_body">You are the last to arrive, to find a small gathering already in swing. The food is nearly ready to serve, classical music is playing from the phonograph, and you are somewhat surprised to see Maxine. It comes to light quickly that Frank had no idea the two of you were acquainted, but he does his best to make sure that both of you are comfortable, rearranging the seating at the dining table slightly to put space between you. In private Frank compliments you on the last case of rye whiskey that you obtained for him, and promises that there will be a chance to sample it after dinner.<br><br>For entirely different reasons from Allister you also note that the building is not very secure. It would be relatively easy for a burgler to break into this place, which could be worrisome given the obvious richness of the furnishings on display.<br></div></div><br>With the last of the guests arrived, dinner is soon served. The caterers have left the various dishes on steam trays in the kitchen so that a single server, Dominic, can attend to all of you. Dominic will leave after dinner is completed. Frank has no permanent staff living with him.<br><br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">All</div><div class="spoiler_body">Okay, that’s a bit of a read. Please go ahead and begin posting. There is no set posting order.<br></div></div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Miroque</strong> on <strong>25-04-2013, 22:56:03</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQNYJgYpQNq5dsTnXD47d0J8Ou37ox_Oxs-K-yxNkPCQpfx6bpDEw)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>MaryAnne Walkers</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>55 Beacon Street</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> All of the PCs, Frank Walker, Dominic</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Dinner</td></tr></tbody></table><hr><br>When the people were gathered and all sit on the dinner table, MaryAnne sit on the opposite end facing her brother. MaryAnne toke her glass and rose, tapping her knife against the crystal <strong>"I would like to say few words behalf of my brother, before we eat."</strong> she kept an short pause letting everyone chance to stop doing what ever they were doing, and then she continued<strong> "I thank my brother Frank, for this evening, and of this esquisite food we are about to have, and for the change of meeting new people, and to make new friends."</strong> She raised her glass of orange juice and toke an sip, and sit down, hoping her brother would reveal his true meaning of this gathering.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wargtass</strong> on <strong>28-04-2013, 10:21:18</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/74/Vincent_Price_man_of_class.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Allister Cooper</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Dining Room, 55 Beacon Street</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>His old friend Frank, his sister MaryAnne and a room full of strangers</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Dinner</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Allister couldn't enjoy Boston as he used to do. In his youth he could relish in the finer aspects of the city, the culture and clubs, the crisp winds coming in from the Massachusetts Bay or just a stroll through town with all its cheerful people. It certainly was better than Long Island and even more so the inner New York City back then. But things changed and they had done so suddenly and jarringly. As such it was with a heavy heart and a sort of anxious dread that the Federal agent had taken his car off the driveway the day before and begun his journey to Boston and his old school friend Frank Walker. It was a long drive even in his trusty Earl Sedan (http://earlyamericanautomobiles.com/images/autos4816.jpg) so he had stopped along the way at a cozy bed &amp; breakfast-style inn for the night. He had slept little though, as strange dreams had kept him along the thin line between the conscious and unconscious. After a steady breakfast he continued on to finally arrive at 55 Beacon Street in Boston.<br><br>After a hasty greeting of Frank and MaryAnne he was pulled as by an invisible hand towards the library, out of the way of his hosts. Occasionally engaging in quips with Frank, some a bit more rowdy than a young lady should hear though MaryAnne was far from an ordinary sort, his eyes scan along the backs of the assorted volumes, feeling a bit uneasy at some of the titles. While perfectly innocent for the most, some stuck out. He had no time to produce one of the tomes for closer inspection before more guests arrived and he found himself drawn towards the dining room along with the others. He didn't play at being a socialite, instead being content with watching the others for now, trying to pry something from their persons through what they were saying, as a proper agent would. There was no such thing as being off duty any more, the instincts and habits had no off-switch or valve that could be closed. As MaryAnne proposed her toast to Frank he only raised his glass, giving the siblings a smile before he put the glass down again.<br><br>"<strong>I certainly hope you haven't cooked yourself, Frank. I almost didn't make it home the last time I visited.</strong>" Mostly because the day after dinner he had been in a fire fight with strange men and women south of the city, but that wasn't here nor there for a dinner party. The least what they had found beneath the compound that day...
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				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zillah</strong> on <strong>29-04-2013, 19:44:25</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/99/MaggieDelaney.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Maggie Delaney</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Dining Room, 55 Beacon Street</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Frank Walters, Harrison Cartwright, Maxine White, others</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Dinner with friends, and with some new acquaintances</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Maggie found herself enjoying the dinner with Frank quite a bit. It was good to see a dear friend, of course ... but selfishly, socializing with others made her feel, well, <em>normal</em>. The past few days had left her starting to regret her impulsive decision to leave the Great Dashini's magic act. As hurt as she'd been by the realization that she was little more than a sex toy to Dash - and despite all his honeyed words, he was <strong>never</strong> going to leave his wife for her - performing for all the Proverbial Crowned Heads of Europe did have its perks. Five star hotels. Posh clothing and beautiful outfits. Grand meals.<br><br>And her past few days of living in a cheap Boston flophouse, eating the scraps of food she could afford while auditioning at the Orpheum ... well, Maggie just hoped that she could catch a break soon. Otherwise, it was back to waitressing, or working at a laundromat - or perhaps worse. In his darker moments, Dash often told her that she'd have to make a living on her knees and on her back if she ever left him ... and she was starting to wonder if he'd been right about that.<br><br>Still, Maggie kept a happy smile present on her lips, trying hard not to betray her otherwise bleak circumstances. And, to be honest, smiling wasn't all that difficult. Besides Frank, she'd been delighted to be Harrison again, exchanging pleasantries with him as they sat at the table. She'd made his acquaintance just a few days before, at the Orpheum ... Maggie found him to be an affable, intriguing fellow. It made sense that Frank knew him, of course ... and as the dinner moved onward, he found herself musing about how she could ask Frank for more information about Harrison.<br><br><em>After all,</em> Maggie thought, as she glanced idly as Harrison's hand, <em>I don't see a wedding ring ...</em><br><br>Another of the faces looked familiar at the table. The woman's name was Maxine, or so Frank had said, and while she dressed like a society girl, Maggie could've sworn she had seen the attractive, dark-haired woman at the Orpheum of late. She couldn't quite place the face - <em>an investor's daughter, perhaps?</em> - and at the evening moved on, she found herself irritated by her inability to do so.<br><br>"Sorry," Maggie said finally to Maxine, during a break in the dinner conversation, "do we know each other? I swear we've met somewhere before ..."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lurking</strong> on <strong>30-04-2013, 22:41:55</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://oi36.tinypic.com/34gxac4.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Harrison Cartwright</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Dining Room, 55 Beacon Street</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Frank Walters, Maggie Delaney, Jonathan Hellyer, etc.</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Dinner</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Harrison sat at the dining table, looking around at the other faces sitting next to and opposite him. He had been fascinated by his dining companions since he arrived, none of the people sitting around the table were like anyone who knew growing up. Even working in Boston for the past few years had shown disappointingly little of the exciting city life he had heard so much about. Unfortunately most of his time was spent trying to convince the people he worked for that a small town boy such as himself could be taken seriously next to the city born lads all vying for the same reporter’s spot. And that meant making coffee, delivering notes and fetching sandwiches. <br><br>Ah, but things were different now. He wasn’t an assistant any longer, he was a reporter in his own right and ready to show everyone what he was made of. His reporter’s fedora was hanging up on one of the coat racks in Frank’s foyer. He had been eyeing up that particular hat since first arriving in Boston at the age of eighteen. He had seen it sitting in the shop window, and walked past the same shop every day on his way to work. The first thing he did when was promoted to reporter was buy that hat. However without the hat on it was easier to see his slicked back blonde hair, which some would argue flattered him better then the hat. <br><br>Harrison had been surprised to see Maggie at this gathering, he hadn’t expected to know anyone of Frank’s acquaintances, but he was very pleased to see her. She had been a charming woman to speak to, he was fascinated by her life on the stage and jumped at the chance to get to know her better. He was happy to talk to her over dinner, although found his eyes casually making their way up and down the table, taking in the other faces he saw. So many interesting people,&nbsp; this would be a good place to make connections. One man caught his attention in particular, someone who Harrison had the feeling had an interesting story or two to tell. “So how do you know Frank?” he enquired casually to the man across the table from him, the man’s name being John, if Harrison remembered correctly. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ebb</strong> on <strong>01-05-2013, 06:05:34</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/18/Eldersign34.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>GM POST</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>55 Beacon Street</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> All of the PCs, Frank Walker, Dominic</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Dinner Is Served</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Frank was a gracious host, facilitating easy conversation among the mixed lot of guests with a gift for gab that was almost, but not quite, a reasonable substitute for alcohol. He raised his glass of sparkling water to his sister's toast. "Thank you, MaryAnne, and let me say that it is truly my pleasure to see so many dear friends under one roof. I am so happy that all of you were able to come tonight. And I trust that the fare will be acceptable -- far more than my own poor attempts. I believe that I still owe that lamb an apology," he said with a nod toward Allister.<br><br>As the meal progressed Dominic brought in each course with mechanical precision, drawing little attention to himself. Those who took special notice, and who happened to be keen observers of such things, might note that his expression was perhaps a bit more grim than necessary, as if he harbored secret troubles of his own. But whatever plagued the dark-haired silent man it did not seem to interfere with his ability to clear dirty plates promptly and keep beverage glasses full.<br><br>The table engaged in parallel conversations, as one does at such occasions, and those near Frank were able to hear him tell an amusing anecdote of an encounter he had recently with a drunken vagrant down near the Riverfront district. Frank had ended up taking the fellow to dinner, buying him a jacket to suit the restaurant's dress code. As it happened the fellow was a published poet who had fallen on hard times. "And he gave me some of his works," Frank said, "on crumpled sheets of paper he was using to line his shoes! Can you imagine? Oh, I bought him a pair of shoes as well." Sadly for those who spent time paying close attention to Frank's story, this interesting tale will prove to be naught but a red herring in the days to come, though perhaps some small solace could be taken in the evidence of a good man's inclination toward charity.<br><br>For the sake of a shared imaginative space let us say that Frank sat at the head of his table, with his sister MaryAnne at his right hand. Next to her sat Harrison, and then Maggie. At Frank's left hand sat Marcus, perhaps positioned such that the meddlesome Mr. Walker could more easily observe his interplay with MaryAnne across the table. At Marcus' left sat Maxine, followed by Jonathan. Opposite Frank, at the far end of the long table, sat Allister.<br><br>The Cornish game hens were served, one per customer accompanied by broiled potatoes, buttered peas, and a jellied tomato and pimento salad garnished with olives which glistened somewhat disturbingly under the muted incandescent lights. The sound of the wind in the empty streets outside was audible within the conversational pauses, and though no storm had been predicted for the evening it served as a reminder that forecasters had been known to be fallible in the past.<br><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BruceTheCat</strong> on <strong>02-05-2013, 04:20:04</strong>
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				Jonathan's presence at the party, to him at least was not only unnecessary, it was absolutely unusual. His mind towards this concept could easily be seen not only by his attire, but likewise by the smell of the man once entering into the generous accommodation that Frank afforded. His white button up was wrinkled to a degree, un-tucked from likewise poorly kept jeans that hung down to his legs. His belt was perhaps a notch or two loose, although by his thin waist line it didn't seem necessary. Finally there was the scent of cheap, illegal whiskey inking from the young man, a large shit eating grin on his face from the moment he set foot.<br><br>He was happy as could be for two reasons. First, if he was going to attend a 'respectable' party then he was going to go above and beyond the necessary once there to be respectable. This was made several degrees easier by the fact that he was already riding a light buzz. He bowed low to the serving man with each course, and smiled like a dumb child before tucking a napkin into his collar.<br><br>He raised his small flask of whiskey high for the toast, making sure to spike it within his sparkling water just after Frank's words were finished. "Pretty place you got here Franky" John noted while glancing up into the vaulted ceilings of his dining room. "Imagine it's got a large basement too", raising an eyebrow with a knowing grin. "Ya know, if you ever thought to go into business of your own" fully drinking from the metal container in his hand this time.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>03-05-2013, 09:25:05</strong>
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				<br><div class="floatleft">(http://[URL=http://s307.photobucket.com/user/NovemberWerewolf/media/Female%20Characters/1920-flapper-girl.gif.html][IMG]http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/1920-flapper-girl.gif[/url])</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Maxine White</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Dining</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> The Group</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Ignoring Jonathan as best she can, and answering the pretty Maggie.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Maxi had found herself feeling quite at home amongst the luxury of fine dining and a gracious host. Here, where people chattered and glasses clinked with the greeting of lips and other vessels, she felt she shined the most. One might say that she was a social butterfly –and why not? She was a well rounded dancer, a growing-in-fame thespian with a pleasant singing voice (if she didn’t say so herself,), such social activities were much the norm for someone like her. Even if, sometimes, the company present didn’t warm your heart. Like Jonathan for instance; a man who had stolen hers away at one point and now… well, now she had it back safely beating behind her ribcage. Beats of slight nervousness, not like the love-sick fool she once had been.<br><br>But why ruin such a good time? Why let the game hen go to waste, or to ignore these delicious potatoes? She sipped from her glass, engaged in idle chatter, absently twirling her finger around a lock of dark brown hair. Short was in fashion these days, but Maxine decided to go bold by keeping her curly tresses down to her shoulders. Tonight it was delicately pinned with a cluster of pearls at the nape of her neck, exposing matching earrings and a dark dress that featuring a hemline almost too low for polite company. <br><br>There was a woman who sat not far from Maxi; a pretty little thing with delicate features that were quite elegant, almost regal in a way. Her hair was short, not only contrasting in length but shade in its golden tresses. Idly Maxi wondered if it was really as soft as it looked.<br><br>She greeted Maggie’s question with a dazzling white smile, leaning forward slightly so as to better address the beauty. “Now how could I ever forget a pretty little dame such as yourself? Call me Maxi. I don’t suppose we’ve actually met.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Baalborn87</strong> on <strong>03-05-2013, 11:15:30</strong>
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				<strong> Name:</strong> Markus Smith (http://warriorlibrarian.com/PIX06/libn_specksboy.jpg) <br><strong>Location:</strong> Dining room<br><strong>With:</strong> The group<br><strong>Doing:</strong> Engaging the group<br><br><hr><br>Markus felt slightly uneasy, despite the efforts of the host to make everyone comfortable. It didn't help that he was seated next to a rather attractive woman. He glanced over to the Library, his eyes widening slightly at the wealth of knowledge to be found. When Frank made his way to him he couldn't help but comment on the library. "What I wouldn't give to spend an evening in there. Think of what new things I could learn.". He joined in conversation with the rest of the group as best he could. And raised his glass in toast with the others.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zillah</strong> on <strong>03-05-2013, 19:17:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/99/MaggieDelaney.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Maggie Delaney</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Dining Room, 55 Beacon Street</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Frank Walters, Harrison Cartwright, Maxine White, others</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Dinner with friends, and with some new acquaintances</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>"I suppose not ... Maxi, is it?" Maggie replied. "You look awfully familiar to me, though ... perhaps you've been at the Orpheum Theater, of late? I thought I might've seen you there." Maggie thought of adding more, but didn't ... she didn't quite feel like saying <em>I was auditioning as a burlesque singer and dancer there the past few days, perhaps you don't recognize me without the ostrich feathers, or maybe the fact I'm actually wearing more than pasties is confusing you?</em> But instead, she simply took a bite of the Cornish game hen that had just been served - it was succulent and juicy, and utterly delicious.<br><br>"I'm Maggie Delaney, by the way," Maggie said to Maxine. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I must confess, I'm not from Boston ... are you from here, like Frank?" She gazed admiringly at the dark-haired woman, trying not to let her eyes linger too long on her beauty. <em>She's the sort of girl Dash liked bringing back to the bedroom for a</em> ménage à trois, Maggie thought wistfully. There was plenty about her former partner and lover that Maggie regretted, but his taste in women - and his wild, randy behavior in the bedroom - was something she knew she'd miss. <br><br>With a sigh, Maggie turned her attention to Frank for a moment. She listened and smiled as he regaled the table with his tale of taking a vagrant to dinner ... it reminded her of why she liked him so much. She couldn't imagine doing the same in his shoes, and yet he'd done so without a second thought. It made her grateful to have friends like him ...<br><br>... and like Harrison. As she spoke with Maxine and listened to Frank, she quickly slipped one hand under the table, placing it on Harrison's thigh to give his leg a gentle squeeze.&nbsp; She turned her head slightly and gave the man a flirty wink, before returning her hands back above the table to take another bite of that delicious hen.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>06-05-2013, 02:48:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As soon as Maggie made mention of the Orpheum Theater, Maxine’s eyes lit up. They spoke of excitement; the beauty hit the nail right on the head. “Well then, isn’t that swell? I do believe you’re right- were you also there for auditions? As soon as I heard about the part for Cicily I just knew I had to try my luck! Everything Oscar Wilde has ever written is pure genius.” The brunette placed her chin on the back of her hand, batting long, dark lashes back at the woman. “A fellow thespian, then, Maggie? Well aren’t you just the cat’s meow? And absolutely gorgeous, too!”<br><br>Maxi took a bite of her Cornish hen, curling a finger around a loose tress of hair with her free hand. “And no, I’m not originally from Boston. I lived in a small, boring down in West Virginia before moving here for my acting career. A few bit parts here and there, then some more standing roles as I got older. Frankie here had asked me to come to tonight’s dinner, so I thought to myself ‘why not’? I plan to stay a few weeks, get to know the place, try a few plays on for fun, see where it takes me next.” She smiled, tilting her head in the other direction. “And what about you?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ebb</strong> on <strong>08-05-2013, 05:15:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/18/Eldersign34.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>GM POST</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>55 Beacon Street Dining Room</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> All of the PCs, Frank Walker, Dominic</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> On to Dessert</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>All good things must eventually come to an end, and so the delectable meal drew to a close. Not without a sweet surprise, however, as Dominic brought in silver covered dishes and placed them in front of each guest. Ladies first, naturally. When all had been served Frank removed the cover from his plate, indicating that his guests should do the same. Dominic was only one man, after all, with only the standard allotment of two hands. The shiny domes revealed crisp meringue clouds concealing pistachio ice cream served over a moist sponge cake. "I hope that everyone has saved room," Frank remarked. "Martin's Baked Alaska is renowned in this city."<br><br>Frank wrinkled his nose slightly at Jonathan's liquor consumption, though the would-be mobster knew well that Frank kept a well stocked cellar himself. "Funny that you should mention the basement. I don't think a speakeasy is in the cards; I've given over half of it to the darkroom. Photography's my game now, and not just shots for the paper. I'm trying for something a bit more artistic these days. In fact, I would love to beg a favor from all of you once we're finished here. You see, I'm trying to get a gallery showing -- I know, it's terribly indulgent." He seems to be slightly ashamed; those of you who know him well can tell that he seems quite invested in this endeavor, more than in many of his past dalliances. "In any case, the gallery scene in Boston is rather tightly knit, and I'm worried about making exactly the right impression. There's a movement afoot, sort of an 'Art For the Common Man' philosophy. I was hoping to solicit all of your opinions on pieces I might put up for show. A genuine cross section of humanity, if you will."<br><br>The speech seems to have somewhat flustered Frank, a man who is perhaps more comfortable helping others than asking for help himself, even of this fairly innocuous sort. "I won't impose though, of course. If you'd rather peruse the library," with a nod toward Markus, "or simply enjoy each other's company, you're very welcome to do so. I'll sweeten the offer, though, and say that there just might be a bottle or two of stronger stuff hiding downstairs as well, if anyone is so inclined."<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wargtass</strong> on <strong>13-05-2013, 14:48:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/74/Vincent_Price_man_of_class.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Allister Cooper</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Dining Room, 55 Beacon Street</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>His old friend Frank, his sister MaryAnne and a room full of strangers</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>On to Dessert</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Allister wiped along the corners of his mouth to make sure he was proper after such a delightful meal. It certainly had been better than the dry steaks that he had recieved last time he visited his old friend and with a much more delightful collection of people to observe. As Dominic catered the covered desserts he listened on in amusement at the exchange between Frank and Jonathan.<br><br>"<strong>I don't know about that, Frank. I have a whole bunch of colleagues who would be interested in a local speakeasy.</strong>" He gave the host and MaryAnne an amused smile, given that they both knew of his occupation. "<strong>It certainly would help us ease our minds after the rather dreadful work-burden we have had during the past year...</strong>"<br><br>It was an involuntary follow-up, an awful memory that got mixed into the pleasantries, but aside from a short sigh he showed nothing more of the matter. As they all removed the covers of their plates his smile returned again. "<strong>An old favorite, Frank. I remember when we gathered dropped pennies from around the paper-stands and went down to Charlie's to bargain for a varying amount of the stuff.</strong>" He set into the dessert with a vengeance while he listened to Frank's rather unusual display of enthusiasm. It certainly raised his interest and seeing something other than crime-scene photographs might help ease his troubled mind. "<strong>I would love to have a look Frank. And one doesn't have to be an absolutist to serve the law, so a glass would be nice.</strong>"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Maze of Madness: IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lurking</strong> on <strong>18-05-2013, 15:27:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://oi36.tinypic.com/34gxac4.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Harrison Cartwright</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Dining Room, 55 Beacon Street</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Frank Walters, Maggie Delaney, Allister Cooper, etc.</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Desert</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Harrison listened quietly to the conversations going on around the table. He was somewhat overwhelmed by the splendour that made up tonight’s dinner and found himself simply trying to take it all in. The food, the venue, and most importantly the company. The rare times he had been at such a meal before he had not been invited to personally, his boss had been invited and he had been brought along to take notes. It would take some getting used to, being the one who was invited by name. He hoped one day he would feel like he belonged amongst such people, but right now he still felt like he should be writing down names and occupations for his boss to read over later. <br><br>He tuned in and out of different conversations happening around the table, although his ear forever returning to Frank. The man could tell a story unlike anyone Harrison had met before, and he had heard plenty of tales when working at the newspaper. He was so engrossed in Frank’s anecdote that he almost jumped out of his seat when he felt a hand creep onto his leg. His head spun around to look at the beautiful woman next to him, whose hand was currently on his thigh. She winked at him and he couldn’t prevent a rather goofy smile spreading across his lips. <br><br><em>Subtle, Harrison,</em> he cursed himself in his head. He quickly diverted his attention from Maggie back to Frank, hoping that no one noticed his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson. Fortunately desert was being served at this moment, the silver dishes being placed in front of each of them. He quickly removed the cover over his plate and dug in to the wonderful food it had hidden. <br><br>He listened intently to Frank and Allister, intrigued by what it was exactly that the moustached man did for a living. Harrison couldn’t imagine him behind a desk, and somehow didn’t think that the work-burden he spoke of was filing papers for an increasing deadline. He didn’t ask though, as his attention was quickly gripped by the thought of Frank’s new photographic collection. “I’d be honoured to see your new work, Frank,” he said with a genuine smile. He had admired Frank’s photographic ability since he first met him. And the offer of a glass of something stronger certainly didn’t go amiss to the young man, especially if Maggie was going to be around for the rest of the evening, a sip of whatever Frank had on offer would surely help him relaxed around the stunning blonde. 
			</dd>
		</dl>
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