Sofie Meckel

Sofie Meckel hits the dirt filled trench screaming in pain, and then she felt the coldness of a gun of a barrel against her head,

Don't sho-

Don't shoot! Sofie Yelled, opening her eyes as if she just woke up from a nightmare. she could feel a headache from the back of her head, she looked around and to relief she was lying down in a comfortable bed, and not in a trench being shot to death by a group of armed germans.

Even though it was a dream. it felt like reality

she gotten off of her bed and proceeded to get dressed as usual, getting into her police uniform and then looking at the clock which was right next to her to see what time it was 9:30 AM. Oh crap I'm late! She thought hurrying up to get her uniform on as fast as possible, she was about to miss the meeting!

She literally ran across her house to the door, completely ignoring breakfast thinking that she could eat later, running outside to the fresh air which was much better than the Air in the trenches which smelt like horse crap

She facepalmed. and ran back inside all the way back to her Sweat-covered bed, and grabbed her revolver and put it in her uniforms holster, and rushed back outside of course.

She taken a day off from work to meet this guy She only wore her uniform because it was the first thing she saw, She always wore her uniform, it was funny in a way

the clock was ticking, she ran all the way back down the the door, quickly slamming through the door, the dream still lingering in her mind. was it real? but she shoved the thought back down into her head, quickly running to the last place she left her horse, her house was a Brown Chestnut horse. she loved the horse, he was reliable, always their, and a damn fast horse, she named him Chestnut because of his color

untying the rope to the horse she hopped onto her horse, quickly rushing to ride and quickly driving the horse to were she last remembered were John Smith was meeting her, the clock was ticking and she had to be fast



@solamelike

Ragged gasps shake Seumas awake and he flails about, kicking away the sheets tangled in his limbs. Sweat drenches the bed and his clothes alike. His breathing calms as he realizes where he is. Home.

I wasnae in any war, he thinks. And now I'm glad I fer it. The impact of the German bullets still rattles within his chest. He shifts to sit at the edge of his bed, scooping his flask off the floor and taking a quick swig.

Rays of the morning sun fall between the blinds on the window beside him, illuminating specks of dust in the air. His home is mostly barren, with only old books and tools to dress the walls. A cold wood stove sits against a nearby wall, and a burnt-out oil lamp hangs from the low ceiling. His favorite toy, a long Scottish blade with a leather-bound hilt, is propped against the wall, but he dismisses it quickly. Nae mood for such havers today.

Seumas then realizes the time, casting his gaze on the wind-up clock beside his bed. He's almost late.

"Crivets!" He curses aloud, quickly pulling a pair of oily jeans on. He steps quickly into the next room and to the sink. Copper pipes rattle as he turns the tap, and he splashes his face with cold water. A few wet-handed pats and his sandy brown hair is satisfactory, and he buttons his shirt snugly against his well-built frame. A thick beard paints his jaw. It'll have to do fer without a trim.

Seumas quickly makes his way outside, pausing only to grab his wallet, keys and flask. Before his garage is a cream-colored Renault GS, a new acquisition of his. He steps inside, starts the engine, and makes his way into the city to find this "John Smith".

When Amanda wakes up, paralyzed on the spot, most of the dream's vivid details and agonies have faded to a general aura of fear. Her back's kind of stiff but that's the worst she can complain about right now physically. She's pretty sure something happened to it in the dream but the details are hazy. Well, it was just a nightmare. And a glance to her clock indicates she'd best hurry if she wants to meet Mr. Smith in time.

As she gets out of bed to wash the sweat from her face, she manages to avoid slipping on the pile of paper that has fallen off her desk from last night. She's usually not so messy, but she didn't know how long the meeting and investigation with Mr. Smith would go, so she thought it would be wise to stay up late to get some other articles written in advance, so she could hand them in today without need for further work. It was probably why she had that nightmare, she decides: she stayed up too late. The candle she was using last night is barely more than half an inch tall, and its holder is coated in tallow.

Cleaning takes a bit longer than she'd like, but the address is not far thankfully, and it'd be wise, she thinks, to show up clean and late than filthy and late. Dressing takes less time, as she skips over her normal heavy makeup and is out the door without breakfast. It makes up for the time spent cleaning up.

Traffic conditions seem light outside and she considers trying to hail one of those taxis recently introduced, but she does not have a lot of money as is. She'll just have to accept being late by a few minutes, and walks as quickly as a woman of her appearance is able to.

This whole situation is less than ideal, and she's still quite haunted by the phantom of her nightmare, but it's too late to try to contact the man to call the meeting off and, frankly, it seems like one of the best leads for a story that she'll ever find. If nothing else, there are tabloids that will pay extra for tales of 'true' hauntings and the newspaper she does work for may enjoy a classy article on a historical house in the area.

She's fairly certain no one's written anything up on it. A few of her coworkers, she recalls, seemed confused by the ad while it was being printed.

Andrew sighed a little as he looked around for what felt like the thousandth time, his hand on the wheel as he tried to gaze through the pea soup that was the fog around him. He had been told to deliver a truck load of ammunition to the front and he could barely see five feet in front of the truck even with the lights on!

He wasn't quite sure what happened next. One moment he was just driving along and trying to stay on the damn road, the next his left eye was flickering open. The right side of his body felt like it was on fire and his right eye was in so much pain. The truck seemed to have fallen on its side and as Andrew forced himself to look around the cabin with his good eye he could see the twisted remains of the passenger seat... as well as what was left of his right arm.

He coughed as smoke filled the air. A slightly painfully turn of the head found that the source was coming from the back of the truck... where all the ammo was. Andrew felt panic overcome him as he tried to move and find a way out of the truck before the whole thing went up, but he had been out for to long... As the fireball consumed him, all he could do was scream...

...............................................

Jerking awake, Andrew stared at the ceiling as his mind tried to work out what the hell had just happened. As his heart rate started to slow down and his brain started to wake up properly, his breathing started to work itself out as well.

It had just been a nightmare. A rather realistic one but a nightmare and nothing more. Taking a few breaths that were deeper then normal in order to relax, Andrew looked over at his bedside clock and frowned at the time. Turning off the alarm and sliding out of bed, he went to get dressed. Selecting a fairly plain, somewhat old pair of brown pants, a white shirt and a brown coat, Andrew's next item on the list was to have breakfast.

A quick but filling bowl of porridge with a bit of honey mixed into it later and the nightmare had been more or less shoved to the back of his mind as he focused on what he needed to do today. One of his friends (One of the ones that if the police ever asked him about, he had never heard of) had offered him a job to check out a house that someone was asking for people to check out for him; Most likely for squatters or something. Made sense. Sometimes homeless people liked to take shelter in old, empty buildings and it wouldn't do for the new owner to come in and find a half naked, alcoholic, filthy bum taking a piss in what would no doubt be his future study.

Going around a gathering a couple of things he had taken to having on his person at almost all times since he started driving certain shipments around, Andrew checked the time again before heading out. Getting into and starting his truck, Andrew starts to make his way to meet with this 'John Smith'.

As each individual arrives at the house, a doorman allows them entry, they are brought to the Parlour where a portly gentleman greets them. His greying moustache and hair showing off his age as his hazel eyes give off a trusting feeling to them. Despite his beautiful home his hands feel as tough as leather and show that this man has worked for most his life, the wealthy way of living coming later.

The room is well furnished, a large book collection sits in the corner and there are plenty of seats for everyone. A globe sits in another corner of the room and a large desk stands beside it. Above the fireplace is a rifle, placed inside a sealed glass case, with a plaque beneath it. Despite the homeliness of the room, it does not seem like it is used much.

John Smith allows the group to exchange names then soon gets down to business.

“Now I’m sure you are wondering what all the fuss is about. Why do I need you here? Well as you may or may not know I own quite a few properties in the Boston area, I rent them out and have been happily living off of the business for quite some years now. Recently I have bought a house however that seems to have connotations with…. Well let me explain”

A butler walks into the room and elegantly places a tray with 5 glasses. John walks over to a small cabinet beside the fireplace, he removes a key from his pocket then stops. Quickly looking towards Sofie, he places the key back in his pocket and returns to the group. He dabs some sweat off his forehead as he calls for the butler to return, asking for the glasses to be filled with juice.

“Anyway.. oh yes the house. A few years ago a family moved into the house, the Mosios..Machios..Macarios something like that. Well anyway, a year after moving in the man seemed to have some sort of accident, and soon after he was placed in a sanatorium. Before the month was finished his wife was also placed in a sanatorium. The two children were sent to their grandparent’s house somewhere south. Anyway, I bought the house recently and hoped that most sensible people would not even think about this ‘haunted house’ joke, but apparently a lot of people are superstitious like that. Believing that if they moved into the house something bad would happen to them. Now you might be asking why I would buy the place if I knew about these rumours and the answer is it was cheap! This house was made almost a hundred years ago, it’s a converted bungalow with two floors and a basement, despite how cheap it was that’s not helpful if no-one will live there”

The glasses of juice are brought in and placed on a small table in the middle of the seats.

”Now, what I need of you is two things. One, I wish for you to do some research about the house, find out why it is apparently haunted, maybe learn some history that I can tell clients about. I’m sure you can find some information at The Library, The Hall Of Records and maybe it would be a good idea to find newspaper articles at The Boston Globe. Second, I wish for you to investigate the house, maybe find out the Macarios story by visiting Roxbury Sanatorium It’s just a short drive out of Boston and you might find out what’s wrong with the place. Now I’m going to be straight, I don’t believe anything is wrong with the house, but if I can get you guys to have a look, maybe sign something saying you have investigated and found the house is completely fine. Then maybe I can start persuading people to start renting it out.

John walks to his desk and takes a large key from a small hook

”Here is the key to the place, now as for pay I was thinking I pay you each $20 now and then when all the work is done I give you all a further $30"

John opens a locked box on the desk and takes out $80, placing it on the small table with the key.

Sofie Meckel

Sofie was quick and fast. fortunately she was a great rider and always was, she managed to make it to the house 5 minutes before the meeting started,

she had listened to the dude very attentively, remembering her father, She was a paranoid person but paranoia was a good thing. She had a gut feeling that "They" which her father told her about had something to do with the "haunted house"- wait a minute. Sofie squints her eyes and stares at the Key John Smith just took out of his pocket and put back in



Sofie Meckel couldn't see any key at all, she had a few nightmares recently, must be some kind of hallucination. Sofie Meckel listened to the rest of the guys Chit Chat

Knowledge test success! 40 vs 70 http://orokos.com/roll/275733

Sofie racks her brain for what the odd behaviour could have been for. She soon comes to the conclusion that the man was probably going to pour some alcohol for his guests then realised their was a uniformed police officer present and decided against it. For obvious reasons.

Sofie Meckel

it took Sofie Meckel some time to realize it, that man did have a key, and he had a locked cabinet. What would you put in a cabinet? Drinks. what kind of drinks? Alcholic drinks. Why? Because it was Illegal!

Sofie immediately charged into the so-called John Smith, slamming him against the Cabinet and turning him around so she could handcuff him

Andrew arrived at the house that the meeting with the client was going to be taking place at on time, more then happy to accept the hospitality of Mr Smith for a little while.

As more people arrived to the meeting and Mr Smith rambled on about 'Ghosts' and other such tall tales that mothers tell children, Andrew noticed that the older man had pulled out a key of some kind, looked towards one of the people that were currently here and seemed to want to hide it away again. Interest aroused, Andrew tried to see why the old man wanted it hidden.



After the key was put away and the juice was served, Andrew took a sip of his glass as he considered their options and the situation as they knew it. "From the sounds of it, this might just be a simple case of either poor maintenance or a dodgy renovation; Crew members cutting corners to keep the costs of the doing the job down to line their own pockets a little more; Depends largely on if the conversation happened before or after the family moved in and the accidents happened. Still, I don't see any real harm in going to check out a few papers or the kinds of injuries the two poor bastards got. Might give us an idea of what's wrong with the place and what we should check out first."

"Not really one for hospitals, so I guess I'm going to be checking out the Globe. Anyone else in? I'm happy to give someone a lift if need be."

And it was at this point that the cop sort of went crazy and charged their client, trying to handcuff him after slamming him into a cabinet.

Rather caught off guard by the rather insane and (He suspected) illegal move, Andrew did what any right minded person would have done. "What the absolute hell is wrong with you?"

Action [+]

Look at John Smith's key Spot Hidden Check. Success 59vs75http://orokos.com/roll/275742

Andrew could guess that a wealthy man such as Mr Smith could get a hold of alcohol, despite the laws, and that the cabinet he was about to open was a liquor cabinet. John seemed to forget for a second that a police officer was among them and may have almost given the game away.

Amanda blesses her luck as she manages to arrive at the house on time - apparently though there are others who took interest in the advertisement. Probably not for the same reason, as she knows a fair sum had been promised to those who came to help. The conversation after everyone is present is brief: Amanda only gives her name and occupation. Right now, anything else is superfluous. She wonders why the room seems maybe a bit dusty and unused - he seems to live alone, to be sure, but so does she and her home feels quite lived-in.



The key catches her notice, as does John Smith's sudden reaction. It seems odd, and the time it takes for the juice to arrive is time to ponder over it. She of course listens to his story, and is instantly irritated that he's not sure of the name. It will be a pain to look up later from the address alone. But she tries to figure out if she might recognize his story at all.



When Andrew asks if anyone wished to accompany him, she coughs politely to get his attention before saying, "It may interest you to know I happen to work there. I'll come along - may be able to get a bit further with my help." She wouldn't mind going to the sanatorium later; it might be difficult, but maybe she could coax an answer out of the husband and wife, if either were in a fit enough state to talk. Surely the rest of them could do the other work.

These plans are abruptly forgotten as the officer decides to arrest the man who was offering them money. Amanda can only gape, tightening her hold on the glass before she can drop it by accident. Though words do come eventually.

"Oh, this will make an interesting piece instead..."

Amanda looks around the room for any clues of why this room isn't used so often. She fails to see why not, its a fairly nice room, a room that could fit many guests for parties or at least small social gatherings. As she gives the room a good look around she notices what the plaque beneath the rifle reads



She also spots a few books that seem to pop out at her, on the bookshelf.
Babbitt, Diet and Health by Sinclair Lewis
The Story of Mankind by Van Loof
The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton
The Sheik by Edith Hull

As she racks her brain about the story she seems to vaguely remember someone talking about it at the office, but unfortunately can not remember the person or what they had said.

As Seumas sits amongst the other investigators, a fleeting sensation strikes him. A couple of the women nearby look oddly familiar, as if he had known them in some other life. After catching the eyes of the journalist beside him for slightly too long to remain comfortable, he shook the thought out of his mind. Must nae be anything.

Seumas listened to the man's speech, tapping his foot impatiently. He opened his mouth to speak when the officer present slammed John Smith into the cabinet, pinning him.

At the same time Andrew spoke, Seumas said "What the hell are ya doin'!?" and jumped up, grabbing the officer and attempting to pry the two apart.

John Smith cry’s out as he is violently pushed against the cabinet, his arms quickly restrained by handcuffs.

”What.. what are you doing!”

The frail man calls out, the butler that had brought drinks has returned and looks in horror at the display. Seumas pulls the police officer off John, who quickly turns around to look at the Officer.

”What is happening, why are you arresting me! It isn’t illegal to hire private investigators to look at public records!”
John smith proclaims, thinking that something he said may have aroused the officer’s assault.

Sofie Meckel

Sofie blinked a bit, not expecting anyone to bother to stop her, and noticing that a news reporter was in the same room as her. Every Cop knew what the News Reporters would do once they see a police officer. Whine on a newspaper. damn reporters.

No its not illegal to hire a private investigator but having a Illegal Beverage isn't!. that Cabinet is full of Hooch! Sofie exclaimed. making sure everyone knows her motive, and pointing towards a nearby locked cabinet.

Sofie grunted, not being able to do anything. she wasn't exactly the strongest person in the world

John smith looked confused, he reached the key from his pocket and opened up the cabinet. Indeed inside was a bottle of whiskey. He removed the bottle and a piece of paper beside it.

”I will assure you this is all legal”

John showed Sofie the paper which happened to be a doctor’s note, it was a certificate claiming that John Smith was allowed, by law to have a prescription of alcohol for Lethargy, anxiety, and indigestion.

”Now I believe we can forget about this kafuffle?”

John smith asked , knowing that having the police officer on the investigative team would help in the long run.

Andrew's hand had moved a little bit in order to be within easy reach of his hidden blackjack, ready to call upon it in the event that ends escalated out of control. However, when the client brought forth the doctor's note that legalized the bottle of whiskey that he owned, Andrew's hand drifted away as a slightly amused smile appeared on his face. It was always nice to see an over zealous little twerp get shown up.

Turning to look at the news reporter... he was sure her name was Amanda, Andrew nodded his head a little as he said "Well then, if everything is wrapped up nicely here then I suggest we get going. I'm happy to drive if you give me directions. Sound good?"

@solamelike Sofie Grunts knowing the person may be right, and stares at the doctors certificate. Looking at it to make sure it isn't forged. She used to be in a detective school and maybe. just maybe her time spent their would pay off

The document seems real, the Doctor is even one that Sofie has heard of.
Of course a lot of Doctors can be paid to give prescriptions, but its all completely legal and not much can be done by a lone police officer.

Sofie Grunted again. Knowing the Certificate is actually real. know not only did she look like a fool in front of everyone. she failed to arrest the rich Beer-guzzling asshole. and the News Reporter would probably whine about it on the news. damn news.

I guess. She told John Smith. She needed the money anyways, Her cash was taking a nosedive and she would probably end up in a Hoovervile and become a bum. which of course she didn't want.

Sofie Grabbed Johns arm. and quickly tightened the handcuffs up to the point at where it would make Johns arm hurt a lot and then Sofie quickly took it off, Passive aggressively.