Everyone returns safely to their homes (doing whatever it is they intended to do first) and catches a scant few hours of sleep. The next morning, the investigators meet at Dr. Lazarus' office to brief him on the evening and present him with the notebook.
[Michael/Tom]
It was unclear both from the conversation and from this reply who would be
there other than Tom, Honoria, and Dr. L. Tom wouldn't exclude anyone (and
Michael says the more the merrier), but it will affect how Tom talks about
this. So, roll call. Who's at the 8AM Watchermoot, hooom?
*Yawn*
Jerry shows up, with a worker from the dining hall in tow pushing a cart loaded with coffee, sugar and cream. There are cups, saucers, and spoons for everyone. Waving a hand lazily towards a corner of Dr, Lazarus' office Jerry says, "Over there should be fine, my good man, see that someone comes to carry it away later, won't you?" and slips him some cash on his way out.
Clarence is there, looking as if he got very little sleep, if any.
Honoria is there, with a bookbag, looking fresh and pressed in an outfit just as dull and conservative (but well made, of good materials) as what she wore last night. An expression of surprise crosses her face at Jerry's presence, followed by dismay, followed by a cooly neutral expression that misses hostility by about 3 inches.
If Jeanette & Frances are there, they'd get a somewhat warmer greeting. Tom and Clarence she seemed to expect.
Frances arrives on time, offering greetings to everyone. She's wearing green today, which sets off her blonde hair and green eyes nicely.
Dr. Lazarus, who had stepped out of the office to fetch a pot of tea after letting Tom in, returns -- and frowns at the unexpected throng. "Good day to you all -- so nice to see no-one got eaten," he says.
But then he pauses, compares today's tally of warm bodies with last night's, and ventures, cautiously, "Er, no-one got eaten, did they?"
"Bill Conrad. Of two puncture wounds to the neck, and a loss of a curiously large amount of unaccounted for blood. Oh, and he tripped and fell and broke his neck will drunk on bootleg Gin." The last is said somewhat bitterly.
Lazarus frowns and opens his mouth to respond, but just then....
Jeanette turns up about five minutes late, just as neat and chipper as Honoria. (She's not dressed nearly so frumpily, though, but in a nice black skirt and jacket with a dark-red blouse.) She has a smile for everyone, even Jerry, today. She sets a thermos of tea on the table and nods. "Let's to work, then."
Honoria is happy to dig into the research -- she seems to know her way around occult tomes.
Tom has a hand drawn map of the tunnels, with a red pencilled line following Seth and Walter's path, as described in the notebook. [Tom did this last night. He probably got less sleep than most of the rest of you. He also read anything else that was in the notebook. It's not like we want Walter keeping secrets...]
Here is the relevant page:
On it are some of the symbols used for navigating in the tunnels. It looks like he was taking notes on how to find his way out in case he and Seth got separated or just because he was an obsessive note-taker.
The first part is a set of symbols and what are obviously directional notations ("L" "R" "U" "D", etc).
Shortly before the attack, there's some quick scribblings:
Formula for nav?
[Mathematical notation, scratched out]
Non-Euclid f(x)?
[Clarence] glances at this, does any of it seem familiar?
[More notation, which appears to be incomplete to the layman's eye. The last line is some mathematical notation, then an equal sign and then nothing.]
Dr Lazarus, while skilled in many things, is not a mathematician, though he knows a few of the professors in the department. On second glance, however, he does notice a similarity of pattern between Gilman's second set of equations and some obscure occult texts. Research is in order...
Jerry patiently waits for someone to do something interesting, slipping just a touch of brandy into his coffee.
Lazarus reads over the page several times, making notes on a separate sheet of paper. Then he looks up at the assembled crowd and asks, in a weary tone that suggests he has little hope of a useful answer, "None of you are mathematicians, are you?"
"Afraid not," says Frances, carefully copying the equations into her notebook.
"'Not I' said the little red hen,'" says Jerry, thumbing through an ancient text looking at the woodcuts.
Reflexively, Lazarus snaps, "Put that down, Mr. Astorbilt."
He pauses for a moment and, hearing no further responses to his query, continues, a bit crossly, "I don't follow the math, but I've seen something like it before. I'll have to consult my books."
He looks at Honoria, and in a milder tone says, "I recommend that you find a little time today before sunset, even if it is only a half-hour, to gauge daytime activity -- both normal student activity and... other things -- within the tunnels. Without the sun as a deterrent, this presumed Shadow Cult could well be just as active during the day as it is at night."
Honoria nods briskly, with clear relief. She seems happier to have marching orders. She then looks around at the rest of the group. "I suppose the rest of you would like to come along? I have a classes at 9, 11 and 2, but I'm free at 3 pm."
"I'll be there," says Frances, adding, "If you don't have lunch plans, I can show you the places around campus to eat lunch that will involve the least likelihood of food poisoning." She gives Honoria a friendly smile.
Honoria looks surprised, then pleased. "Yes, thanks, I'd like that. I know Miss Agnes will make lunch for me, but I need to get to know the area."
Lazarus is so pleased with this turn of events that even the mention of Miss Agnes fails to make him grimace.
Jeanette grins. "What, don't tell me the food's as dangerous as the nightlife..."
She busies herself copying down the map/mathematical bits from the notebook.
"Only if you don't tip the waitresses," Jerry says, a thumb holding his place in the book he hasn't yet put down. "I'll be there at 3. If there's anything I can do before then that will help find Gilman, just let me know. I can always cut a class or two for something important."
"Probably the most helpful thing you can do is pay attention, Mr. Astorbilt -- pay attention to campus gossip, as well as anything that seems out-of- the-ordinary," Lazarus says. He is eyeing the book as if he might lunge across the room at any moment and grab it. "With the recent increase in... unusual events... your classmates may have noticed things we have not. Perhaps your preference for socializing over scholarship could prove useful in turning up leads." He fixes Jerry with a hard look for just a moment.
Jerry nods, a smile on his face. "Not a problem," he assures Dr. Lazarus cheerily.
To the group at large, Lazarus asks, "Besides the notebook and the body of Mr. Conrad, did you find anything else of note?"
"Depends on if you think that Seth and the Slayer having the same person in their dreams is notable, Dr. Lazarus. Has anyone seen Seth this morning?"
Dr. Lazarus raises an eyebrow.
Either Jerry or Francis know (probably both) that Walter Gilman and Seth Bishop both live in the infamous "Witch House" of Arkham. It's a few blocks from campus.
According to legend, the witch Keziah Mason lives there. She was part of an infamous coven that sacrificed children to the devil, before the townspeople stopped the cult. The leader, Goody Fowler, was hung after her trial for witchcraft. Her ghost is said to haunt the old graveyard on Hangman's Hill. Mason's ghost (along with her familar "Brown Jenkins"), is said to haunt the boarding house where Seth and Walter live.
Jerry shrugs. "I haven't seen him since last night, but he and Gilman live in the boarding house over on East Pickman. The place people call the 'Witch House.' Would you like someone to go try to find out if he was eaten by something last night?" He's waving the book, held shut with his thumb marking his place, while he speaks.
Clarence, mildly annoyed at the tome being waved about near his head, plucks it out of Jerry's hand and sets it on a nearby desk.
"I don't mind inquiring at the boarding house, if no one else has a problem with that."
"Fine with me," says Frances.
Dr. Lazarus glances at Tom. It's unclear what he's trying to discern.
Tom has turned to look at Clarence, and so missed Dr. Lazarus's glance. "Just remember to walk softly, Holt. Arkham may be bigger than some and have the railroad and the University and all, but in many ways we're not that different from that little town up the coast you were mentioning yesterday. A lot of folk won't cotton to strangers asking questions."
Clarence nods, "And I intend to take a different approach here at any rate. Don't worry, I'll do my best not to cause any trouble."
Feeling just a little bit bored, Jeanette's eyes start to slide over the bookshelves, noting titles and looking for anything interesting or relevant...
If she likes linguistics, of course, she will find most of it interesting. Not much of it seems relevant to the topic at hand, however; even a promising-looking book titled "The Demon Tongue" turns out to be subtitled "A History of the English Language".
Lazarus probably keeps the really interesting books locked in his desk, away from the prying eyes of wayward students and pesky department chairmen.
"Well, then," Lazarus says, regarding Clarence and Tom through slightly narrowed eyes, "I suppose that's settled. Perhaps we should reconvene at the end of the workday to discuss our findings. I should have a little time before then to research these equations."
Jerry shrugs and stands, then tosses his coffee cup onto the table. "Right, then," he says. "I'm off to ask around and see what impossible things people might have seen. Vampires in the tunnels, werewolves hiding in the shrubbery, grad students relaxing. Any of that."
"And I'm off to class," says Frances. She looks at Honoria, and says, "Do you need directions to your class? A lot of the freshmen have trouble negotiating the campus at first."
Honoria ducks her head with a shy attempt at a smile. "Yes, thank
you. I've looked at the map, and I think I know where I should be going,
but I'd appreciate the help. The layout of this campus seems... well...
somewhat arcane."
The Boarding House
[Cut to The Witch-House. Seen from above, the camera descends toward the roof of the ramshackle boarding house on the outskirts of town. It's descent is erratic, emphasizing the odd angles and lack of symetry. Entering a window on the third floor, just beneath an odd sloping crawl space, we find Seth, looking through the books and scraps of notes on the desk of his missing friend, Walter.]
"What happened to you Walter?" Seth asks himself. "Where have you gone?"
Resigning himself to the fact that he needs HER help, he tries to call her forth. //I'll keep clear of this slayer. Just tell about this "Master". You know something.//
SHE answers. //The sniveling fool is in a dark place, either to serve the Master or be served to him. I sensed a power, but even a mewling half-breed like yourself saw the Master's power. What it did in the tunnels was a fraction of its abilities. The Sending you dreamed was an offer and a warning. We have the same choice Walter has.//
"No," he tells HER. "We've the Slayer on our side. Perhaps we can let her handle this Master, either way they'll be too busy with each other to concern themselves over us."
[Cut to a manhole cover on Miskatonic Campus. A voice cries out in terror, then is silent.]
Cue Credits
A Word Before Class
Tom dawdles, hoping to have a word with Dr. Lazarus before class. [Is your class next? Certainly a frustrating situation if you have to lecture and we have to listen instead of working on other projects. :) ]
[Dr. Lazarus teaches a 10am class MWF and a 2pm class TR. I'm assuming today is one of MWF. The meeting in Lazarus's office started a little after 8am and didn't last a full hour, so they've got some time yet.]
Lazarus seems glad of the chance to speak with Tom. He pours himself a cup of tea, and offers one to Tom as well, while waiting for the others to get out of earshot.
Tom thanks Dr. Lazarus for the tea and prepares it slowly.
When the sounds of their departure have faded, Lazarus says, "I take it you've encountered this Holt fellow before?"
Tom nods. "In France. He was in the Navy, I was still in the British Army, and we were both spending some time as involuntary guests of the Shore Patrol. He's with the Treasury department. If he's really Issac Levinson's cousin it's a remarkable coincidence and he'll be quite an asset. If he's not, I don't know what's going on."
Lazarus nods thoughtfully, frowning. "Did he give any indication of... occult interests, when you met him before?"
"No, but he's the right type for it. Ex-Navy, Treasury man. T-men get their jobs done by sticking their noses in where it isn't wanted. Believe him when he says he isn't sentimental."
Lazarus nods again.
"New England. New England is changing Doctor, and more radically than when they brought industry to Lowell or Shipbuilding to Plymouth. It's getting hard to find a place untouched by modernity. Rail, Electricity, the Clarence Holts of the world. Some things, things like we've seen, retreat from it.
"Arkham has always been a quiet little town that nobody much bothered with, bypassed by the future time and again and happy about it. Things have been happening here for a long time, but they haven't been out of hand. Twenty years ago Miss Perkins could have had the same file she's making now about all the 'mysterious disappearances and strange happenings', but it wouldn't have come to anything.
"But all those things that retreat, they concentrate in places and it gets more mysterious and strange. And what happens when they can't retreat anymore? What happens when there's no place left to hide in the darkness?"
Dr. Lazarus' lips are pressed together in a thin, grim line. "I know what the Darwinists would say -- but I'm certain Darwin's objects of study were, in the main, neither clever nor immortal."
He stares into his teacup for a moment, then looks back at Tom. "The clever ones adapt; and if they can't adapt themselves, they'll adapt their surroundings. If they can't retreat to the darkness, they'll bring the darkness to them. Or they'll band together to fight for the way things were."
He shakes his head and settles back into his chair, looking tired and resigned. "You're right, Tom. Calcutta wasn't like this. Nepal wasn't like this. But it wasn't just the darkness -- it was the believing. The people there, they can't always put a name to what's out there -- but they know it's there. They believe. And they live... if not in harmony with the darkness, at least in balance. They sacrifice herdbeasts knowing it will save their sons. They know when to fight and when to leave well enough alone.
"Here, though...." Lazarus shakes his head again. "They pride themselves on being so enlightened. But the more light they bring, the less they see."
"Miskatonic is different from Arkham, Professor. Most of the town doesn't think of itself as modern, really. We'd best hope that 'le tour d'ivoire' is actually defensible. I'm worried about these students who are getting involved like it's some great lark." Tom shakes his head.
"You need two things to have Shadows, Doctor, and one of them is light.
Now we have this 'Los Sombra'. It makes a man wish for a quiet little war
someplace safer."
The Rest of the Day
Dr Lazarus is going to research the equations. On the occult side, the patterns seem similar to incantations for traversing portals for demonic realms. For the mathematical side of the affair, he corners a perplexed grad student in the mathematics section of the Library, and asks her to explain the equations. The student, a Miss Dorothy Kendall, says that it's a set of data points, and a function that scribes the line through them. "However, the function requires non-Euclidian geometry to work, so it's not very useful. Just the sort of thing Gilman liked noodling with."
Frances and Honoria were going to meet for lunch. The Garden Cafe, a small restaurant on West College Street next to the University Museum, is a popular meeting place for undergraduates to dine. It's crowded, busy and loud - a perfect place to talk about anything without being heard.
Clarence and Jerry were going to the Witch House to look for Seth. It's an old house, the kind that people tend to walk quickly to pass by. Seth sees the pair from his window as they approach the house. Both Seth and Walter live on the third floor. When Clarence knocks on the door, Mrs Dombrowski, the landlord's wife answers. Jerry's first thought is "well, there's the witch then," as she is old and wrinkled with an enormous wart on her nose. A broomstick and a cat would complete the ensemble. She says in thickly accented English that "Bishop live upstairs. Third floor."
Assuming she is not preventing him from doing so, Clarence will climb the stairs to the Seth's room on the third floor and knock.
Jerry smiles charmingly at the old witch and says, "Thank you so very much, my good woman," as he follows Clarence up the stairs.
The door across the hall opens, and Seth looks out at the two men. "Yes?"
When he recognizes Jerry coming up the stairs behind Clarence, he immediately asks, "So have you heard anything?" He closes the door behind him and opens the one Clarence just knocked on, letting them into his room.
It's in a bit of disarray, but the bed has been made. In one corner lies a desk, scattered with older looking books and a few pages of sheet music. There's one other chair besides the one for the desk. It's situated in the nook created by the gable window, the only window in the room. There's also a music stand and a coronet and case beside it.
Jerry shrugs, leaving Clarence to answer, as he wanders over to look at the titles of the books on the desk.
Clarence enters, his eyes sweeping the room out of habit. Satisfied there's nothing here that presents a threat (aside from their host, perhaps), he relaxes slightly.
To Seth he says, "There hasn't been any word on your friend Walter, I'm sorry to say. The notebook we found near the scene of the attack had...strange mathematical notations in it that Walter had made." He regards the books on the desk for a moment, the turns back to Seth, "Do you know what he might have been trying to find out?"
"The map he had of the steam tunnels was marked with such symbols. Perhaps he was trying to figure them, or keep track of our passage," Seth offers.
Clarence nods, "I think Tom said as much."
Clarence pulls a pack of cigarettes out, looks around again at the numerous loose papers in the room, and places the pack back in his rumpled shirt pocket. He appears vaguely irritated.
"And I take it that was Walter's room you were in when we arrived? Did you find anything of interest?" He gauges Seth's reaction carefully.
Seth turns his back to Clarence, and moves something from the nightstand, "Nothing useful. Seems he's been reading on the old Keziah Mason trial articles," he says.
Turning back he offers Clarence an ashtray. "The good doctor have anything on this 'Master'?"
"Thanks," Clarence takes the ashtray with a wry look and sets it on the desk after moving any flammable items out of the way. He retrieves his cigarettes and lights one, muttering something under his breath that sounds like "conflagration."
He waves his match out and deposits it in the receptacle, "Dr. Lazarus didn't have anything new to add about the Master. At least, nothing I heard."
"Sorry, I don't have anything to offer you, Astorbilt," Seth says, sounding not sorry at all.
Jerry smiles condescendingly and says, "I never expected you would, Bishop." He glances around the small room and repeats, "Never expected it at all."
Clarence's eyes narrow slightly as he exhales in the general vicinity of Jerry.
"Would you mind if I took a look around Walter's room?" He asks Seth, "I don't know what his interest in the Mason case has to do with anything, but any clue we uncover might be helpful."
"Sure, it's open," Seth says walking back toward the door.
"I had hoped that even if he's lost to the Shadow, that something might bring him back here," Seth offers as they head across to Gilman's room.
The room is similar to Seth's, but the roof is at odd angles, suggesting perhaps a crawl space above.
Between the three of you, you find some occult texted stacked in a pile with some notebooks and some mathematical texts about non-Euclidian geometry. Seth and Clarence recognize some of the tomes. They include history texts about the Witch Cult and Keziah Mason, as well as some texts that describe the powers a witch might control. He has pieces of paper bookmarking teleportation spells, as well as some notes that refer to some of the higher maths. You believe he was trying to make some connection between magical teleportation and non-Euclidian geometry.
"I can't make this stuff out, at least not the math," Seth says as he finds another page of Walter's scribblings.
"It was never my strong suit, either," Clarence offers, picking up several of the occult books and Walter's notes. He also around the desk for any other clues.
"I propose we let Lazarus take a look at these. He might be able to make more sense of them than your or me."
Jerry, bored by the books, has been reduced to holding them up by the bindings and shaking them to see if any hidden pieces of paper fall out.
Seth, this room has always "felt" funny to you. While poring over the tomes and sitting under the funky "crook" in the ceiling, the feeling is stronger.
Does Clarence notice anything here?
"I wonder," Seth says. He's examining the room's corner. "Could there be a portal of sorts in this room, something that made Walter a target for this Master?"
"If Walter was mucking around with this," He picks up a random occult tome, "There's no telling what he may have discovered. Or what may have discovered him." He looks around the room to see if anything else might have escaped his notice.
Perhaps involuntarily, his eyes once again come to rest on the strange angled spot above the desk. To Seth (OOC: and to Rick, since I don't know if Kris knows) he says, "It looks like there's some kind of crawl space up there. Do you know if there's any way to gain access to it?"
"A hammer and crowbar should do the trick," Jerry suggests.
"It might at that," Clarence considers the ceiling for a moment, "I was hoping for something a bit less...intrusive."
If there is a crawlspace up there, it would be too small for anything man-sized to fit in. There might be some sort of secret compartment, but the ceiling is plastered over.
Seth opens the window and looks out at the side and roof of the house. "Don't know if there's a way from the outside..."
Jerry shrugs. "If you want to find out if there's something in there break it open. It's not like it's your room, and you'll be responsible for the damage. You can always tell the landlady it must have happened during one of Gilman's wild parties."
"That would be as beleivable as most things I hear from you, Astorbilt," Seth responds coming back in the window.
"Whatever's odd about the room, it's not affecting Walter right now, so maybe we could just let it be."
"I do have the good doctor for class this afternoon," he mentions. "Perhaps he'll have some ideas, afterward."
"Oh, right," Jerry says. "We're all getting together to talk about all this at old Lazarus' office at 3:00. I suppose you're invited, too."
Seth nods, and heads back to his room.
Lunch at the Garden Cafe
Frances arranges to meet Honoria and arrive perhaps fifteen minutes before the lunch crowd hits, so that they are seated and have their order in while it's still relatively quiet and uncrowded.
It's clear to Honoria that Frances is an habitue of the place. The waiters recognize her, and she orders an off-menu special. If Honoria looks like she's a little at sea, she offers recommendations.
She does. She looks at the menu as if unfamiliar with menus, and seems relieved when Frances offers suggestions.
When the girls have their lunches in front of them, Frances says, "So, what can I tell you about the University? I gather it's very different from where you went to school before--or were you tutored at home?"
Honoria eats in small, precise bites, chewing thoughtfully after each. "Some of both. We travelled a great deal. I graduated with top grades, but much of it was study away from school. Attending the University is, I think, as much to explain my presence here as for me to get an education. My... vocation... doesn't really leave me much flexibility in choices for my future. Destiny and all that." She puts her fork down as if she's lost her appetitite, and sadness flits across her face, replaced by resignation.
"Oh," says Frances, and stops to consider how to respond to that.
"I suppose the travel must have been quite an education in itself," Frances ventures after a moment.
Honoria shrugs. "To tell you the truth, most places look pretty much the same in the dark. When you're hunting unholy creatures of the night, mostly what you see is... night." She stares off into the middle distance for a few moments, and then she smiles. It transforms her plain face into something that is almost lovely. "No, that's not fair. Uncle Isaac always tried to make time for museums, for history, for art. Once the nasty-whatever-it-was had been disposed of, it was really quite wonderful. He was a great teacher." Tears fill her eyes and she sniffles, dabbing at them with her napkin. "I'm sorry. It's only been a couple of weeks, you see, and I was eight years old when Papa died and he and Miss Agnes took me in. It's like losing a father all over again."
"I'm so sorry," says Frances, and reaches across the table to take Honoria's hand.
Honoria gives her a grateful smile. "Thank you. I shouldn't talk about it -- every time I do, I seem to dissolve into tears. Not at all heroic."
[Frances] adds, "I grew up here in Arkham, so while I wouldn't say I know the town as well as the back of my hand, I can tell you quite a bit about it, and the school."
"Arkham is very different from Chicago, which I did know very well. Since I know nothing, anything you can tell me will be more than I know. I gather that Arkham has a reputation for occult strangeness that exceeds that of any other spot I've heard of."
"I don't know about 'occult strangeness', but there's a pattern of mysterious disappearances and deaths in Arkham going back quite some time. It's a bit of a research project of mine," Frances confesses.
"Really? Tell me, please. I expect it's exactly the sort of thing I need to know."
"Well, I don't have my files here to show you the details, but I can talk about the general trends ..."
[Commercial for the X-Babies 2 movie, now showing at a theater near you]
"... and so I suppose that's part of the reputation for 'occult strangeness' you mentioned before," Frances concludes.
Honoria nods, having, sponge-like, taken it all in. Then she glances at the thinning crowd and starts. "Oh, my goodness. Look at the time -- I'd best hurry or I'll be late to class!" She extracts sufficient money for her lunch from her pocket. "Thank you again for the invitation. It's been lovely. Shall I see you again at 3?"
"I wouldn't miss it," says Frances.
Three O'Clock Meeting
Frances arrives on time, notebook in hand.
[Whoever is keeping the fan concordance will note that she had the papers Dr. Lazarus gave her for Fred Dexter last night at this morning's meeting and at lunch with Honoria, but she doesn't have them now, and extrapolate that she passed his instructions to Mabel between lunch and the 3 PM meeting.]
Seth walks in, a briefcase and horn case in the same hand, a mug of something in the other. By smell, it's probably coffee.
He nods to the reporter and sits not far from her. [Assuming someone in the other thread, ot the Doc himself tells him about said meeting.]
"See, she's not here yet," he says to HER, mentally.
Tom is there. He nods at Frances when he arrives.
Having discovered nothing of note at the "Witch House," Clarence will arrive at the Professor's office promptly at 3:00.
Honoria arrives a couple of minutes late. She looks a little startled to see so many people, and checks her pendant watch. "Oh, it's slow. I'll need to fix that," she murmurs, doing so based upon the Professor's clock.
"All right, do we have a plan?"
Dr. Lazarus seems content to let Honoria take charge of the meeting. He's sitting at his desk with what appear to be a pile of student papers and a math book in front of him; his attention alternates between the two, with each successive shift of focus preceded by a slowly-building sour face.
A few minutes after Honoria arrives everyone hears giggling outside the office, and Jerry opens the door and walks in, looking over his shoulder and saying, "Off you go, girls, I have to meet with the Prof about a few things. See you both later." He closes the door behind him and smiles winningly at everyone in the room before settling himself carelessly in a chair near a window.
Without glancing up, Lazarus says, "Well, now that the bait's here, I suppose we can get started."
Jerry smirks at the comment, bows elaborately to Dr Lazarus, and takes his seat without verbal comment.
As if cued by the words "we can get started", there comes a commotion in the hall. The voice is a familiar one to some: Frau Pommetraf, one of the sterner disciplinarians amongst the teachers. "MIZ DuBois," her piercing voice announces, "I -do- suppose you have an explanation for this? Running through the halls with your hair all disheveled, and is that dust on your skirt? Napping in the library again, perhaps?"
The slightly nervous reply is a little too muffled by the closed door to hear, but it seems to upset the lady even more. The tirade about the morality of "young girls today" lasts about three minutes before Jeanette somehow makes her escape, slipping into the room and closing the door shut behind her, red-faced and fuming.
Frances alternates between paying attention to the discussion in Dr. Lazarus' office and being distracted by Frau Pommentraf's lecture. As Jeanette closes the door, Frances shoots her a sympathetic look.
Honoria sits for an uncomfortably long time, watching Dr. Lazarus as if she is expecting him to tell them what to do, or begin lecturing, or something. About the time Jeanette escapes her lecture, she finally figures out that he isn't going to do so.
As soon as Jeanette is settled, Honoria rises, smoothing her skirt nervously. She opens her mouth, clears her throat, tries again. "Ahem. All right. I ... er ... believe the plan is to explore the tunnels during the day, to see where people go. To see if the vampires -- and other things -- are active. I suppose we should break into teams or somesuch." Her cheeks flush and she looks desperately uncomfortable.
"Mr. Burdon, you're experienced in matters such as these; do you have any suggestions?"
"It depends on what we're looking for. I would dearly hate to have someone who is alone find a 'nest' of active vampires. We have Walter's notes and he seems to think that it's more important that we follow a path than that we navigate to a destination. I think we should try to investigate that, since we have maps that should show the known parts of the campus steam tunnels.
"And, ah. I should remind you all that it is against University Rules to be in the steam tunnels and that students are subject to discipline, staff to termination, and outsiders to prosecution if you're found down there. It's no stroll in the park. But if we're still willing, my second suggestion is that we concentrate on the outskirts of Miskatonic and try to find where something from off-campus might be coming."
Seth looks up at Burdon, "Outskirts is a big area, bud. What makes you think this Shadow Master isn't happy enough under the school?"
Jeanette shrugs, settling her books onto a desk and opening one. Apparently she's still reading up on something. "We have to start -somewhere-. One place is as good as another when we have no idea where he might be."
Jerry, who has been staring out the window watching female students, looks over. "It's not like anyone who is anyone really pays attention to those rules, of course. Just don't get caught."
Another little grin curls Jeanette's lips. "I suppose you know the right people to talk to about it, then, if you -do- get caught?"
Jerry grins back. "Reasonable people are always willing to make exceptions for exceptional situations," he says.
Last modified: 12 June 2003