[IC] ~*The Orient Express*~

[Lady Absinthia]

Natasha Brinne

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Location: UCSF Medical Center Emergency Room
Interacting With: Patients, Nurses, Dr Joshi, The Delivery Man

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Dr. Brinne, like most everyone in the ER of UCSF Medical Center was a bit taken back when all their phones went off at the same time and the TV suddenly changed to what looked like was an Emergency Message. All froze and nearly began to prep for another night of Code Black, that was until the announcement was made. Tas shook her head, the last thing she wanted to deal with was some idiot making a fuss. She had work to do, friends to be around and a life to try to piece together; not to mention work.

So many seemed excited though and the ER was a buzz with speculation of who was doing this and why. Tas would just snap at them coldly and tell them to get back to work; usually voicing if they killed anyone due to their lack of paying attention she would personally ensure that they ended up in the morgue with the patient. People sucked it up and got back to work. It wasn't that Tas was a cold person, in fact, as some knew, she was the kindest heart around; but she kept that part of herself buried. You couldn't afford weakness when people depended on you to save their lives or hold their hands through the darkest moments of their lives.

Hours passed after the announcement and a tall African American man in a black suit waltzed into the ER. He looked fine, there seemed to be no reason for him to be there; this perplexed the Triage Nurse as he came up to the counter. She moved the glass barrier, sliding it to the side and handed him the usual clipboard and papers to fill out. He pushed it back towards her and held up an intricately carved box with golden latches. The nurse froze, the last time anyone brought a package into the ER it was a bomb..

"I am looking for Dr. Natasha Brinne," the man said with a thick Creole accent. The nurse looked at him oddly. Nodding she held up a finger and went to grab the doctor. Tas had just finished up with a patient, the sound of latex snapping could be heard as she pulled the bloodied gloves off.

"Dr. Brinne, someone is here to see you?" the nurse said quickly. Tas nodded, half expecting it to be Sam with her dinner. He usually popped in about this time of night and she was famished.

"Right, on my way," she said as she signed off on a couple of forms and headed to the check in desk. She looked around a bit confused that she did not see Sam there.

"Dr. Brinne? This is for you," the man said handing over the box. She took it hesitantly. The man gave her a nod and walked out of the ER, leaving her standing there. She looked the box over as she sat down in the nurses seat. Most around her backing up just in case. It was beautifully crafted.

"Oh what the hell, I've got nothing to lose," she said as she pulled the gold pin from the latch and opened it. With everything going on in her life just then, a bomb might be a welcome change.

No bomb was inside, the inside was far more impressive. Crimson velvet padded lining, on it rested a trifolded piece of thick paper that seemed to be stuffed full. Picking it up carefully she opened it, what was inside made her eyes widen. Tickets from San Francisco to Paris and a ticket to board the Orient Express.

Congratulations!
You are one of the lucky few that was picked to be the winner of this prestigious tour! You leave on March 14th from your city and will arrive in Paris on the 15th. There you will meet the rest of the winners at the Saint James Paris! You're accommodations are completely provided! Travel, fares, food, all are covered. On the 17th you will disembark from Paris on the legendary Orient Express for a tour of Europe and into the Carpathian Mountains! We cannot wait to see you, anything you need will be provided. A Black Status Card has provided for you to purchase anything you might need. I look forward to meeting you on the Orient Express.

Sincerely,
Your Provider

Tas read the letter, confused to who would do such a thing. She looked through the folder, images of the hotel and train were provided, the credit card was there, the tickets, plan changes, itinerary until boarding.

"Are you going?" Dr. Joshi pipped in from behind her.

"Why not.... I may never get another chance," Tas said as she laid everything carefully back into the box and closed it up tight. Resting her hand on the wooden top she wondered just what she was getting herself into, then again, at this point did it even matter?

*All will receive the same box, contents and letter. Up to you how it is delivered.

[Pundii]

Joel Grau

Location: Bayern-Kaserne, Alfa Barrack
Interacting With: Alfa Squad, Administrative Unteroffizier

Mail call. The most painfully dull, slow, inefficient and generally unneeded aspect of the German Army, or any military organization for that matter. To some of the others in his squad, returning from a long field exercise to the mail which had been held from them was a welcome treat, but Joel just wanted to find an actual, comfortable bed and fall asleep.

"Obergefreiter Gott." The Administrative Corporal droned on as he went down the list in his hand, a small stack of letters in his hand.

"Ja." An equally droning voice sounded from beside Joel, the man in question. He received his mail and moved off away from the group, idly flicking through bills and junk mail for anything of actual interest. The second he was out of his peripherals, Joel didn't care, he just wanted to hear his name so he could go to his bunk and pass out.

"Hauptgefreiter Grau." The Corporal continued with the next name - the one Joel had been waiting for, he glanced momentarily to the man's hand, he held a selection of letters, but under-arm was a box, intricately carved with golden latches - he wasn't one for antiques, so he doubted it had been sent to him as any sort of gift, but he didn't know anyone who would send packages in such a manner.

"Ja." Joel finally responded, moving toward the Corporal to retrieve his mail. Originally he couldn't have cared less what his mail was, but as he carried it back toward his bunk and looked over the box - ignoring the confused glances and stares from the others in the barrack - he built quite the intrigue toward it. Tossing aside his other letters as insignificant in comparison, Joel sat down on his bunk, setting the box in his lap, he figured if it had made it this far into the base he resided in, it wasn't dangerous to any degree. Or, rather, Joel assumed it wasn't dangerous.

Gently, he set his finger and thumb on the gold pin, pulling it from the latch as he slowly and delicately lifted the lid, peering within. This was seeming less and less like something that would've been intended for him. Crimson velvet padded lining, and a trifolded piece of thick paper? This was an awfully over-complicated way for someone to be sending him a letter. But it was certainly not a letter, as Joel soon realised. Opening it, he had to do a double take as he looked over the two tickets he held, from Munich to Paris, and a boarding pass for the Orient Express.

Congratulations!
You are one of the lucky few that was picked to be the winner of this prestigious tour! You leave on March 14th from your city and will arrive in Paris on the 15th. There you will meet the rest of the winners at the Saint James Paris! You're accommodations are completely provided! Travel, fares, food, all are covered. On the 17th you will disembark from Paris on the legendary Orient Express for a tour of Europe and into the Carpathian Mountains! We cannot wait to see you, anything you need will be provided. A Black Status Card has provided for you to purchase anything you might need. I look forward to meeting you on the Orient Express.

Sincerely,
Your Provider

As he sat and read the letter, Joel gathered somewhat of an audience, a few of his friends and comrades moving over to his bunk to peer over his shoulder at what was before him, a few unimpressed or unknowing 'huh' sounds coming from the majority as they moved on to other things. Joel, on the other hand, was simply confused. Why had he been picked? He'd been told a while ago that he should take some leave, the man hadn't since his third deployment, so he certainly would have been able to get the time off for this little 'vacation' - but Joel still groaned.

"How do I even explain this to the Oberleutnant?"

[SgtEasy]

Bob

Location: Bayview-Hunter's Point, San Fransisco, USA
Interacting with: The Delivery Guy

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Robbie J. Thompson rubbed his hands together to get them warm, lugging his torn backpack around Hunter's Point. He looked solemn, his gaze downwards. Living in a sketchy part of town wasn't the best idea but Bayview was the only place that he felt comfortable with. The high murder rates and the amount of gangs that roamed these parts made him slightly uncomfortable but meeting those psychos in prison.... It was hard to make him scared at anything. His throat felt dry and his stomach was growling but he marched on, watching the people passing by. People walking on their phones, though considerably less people walked the streets compared to the rest of San Fransisco. When the newly reformed J Crewz and invading Triads are in a gang war, people backed off. Only the bravest (arguably most stupid) of people walked the streets along side those who have no choice.

To a former gangster, it was easy to see the different divisions in Bayview-Hunter's Point. It was mostly run by the J Crewz although Bob generally stayed away. They weren't the most welcoming of gangs and if any of them payed attention to their history lessons, they wouldn't hesitate to pull out a gun and shoot him dead. The second largest area were run by the Triads, coming from the general direction of Chinatown. He had no problem with them but they were still a gang. The words "8th Street Demon" was still a name that carried weight among those who remembered. And so he stayed in the smaller but significantly safer police controlled area of the neighbourhood.

Bob set up in front of a rundown development buildings, one of those projects that proved fruitless in Hunter's Point. It was a tall, imposing building with metal fences and such but he knew that it was abandoned. Graffiti was all over the walls and idiot "gangsters" put their so called mark on the territory. And so the police did what they couldn't do to the rest of this neighbourhood. They descended on the gangs with righteous fury. It was slightly impressive how they can get rid of the upstarts so quickly. Sighing as his thoughts brought him back to his better days, he set his piece of cardboard on the wide side walk, dropping his backpack next to it.

The backpack was a simple thing but it was large and reliable. Bob sat down, cross legged on his card. He opened his backpack, picking out his blanket and harmonica. He gently placed the instrument next to him, wrapping himself in the blanket. He picked the metal harmonica up and placed it on his lips, playing the tune of Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash. He let the sounds of the outside world blur, letting his body do it's work. The music was lovely and it filled him with hope. He finished the song just as the man that would change his life came up to him.

The Delivery Man, not that Bob knew that he was delivering something, was obviously from outside of the neighbourhood. He looked visibly uncomfortable but tried to keep it cool, hiding it all under this cool facade. "Robbie J. Thompson?" Bob looked up at the man with kindly eyes, placing his harmonica to his side. He nodded, inwardly raising an eyebrow. "This is for you." He placed his suitcase in front of him before walking away, presumably to the black Volvo parked a block away, next to the police station.

The case was probably the most expensive thing that Bob had touched in a while. But he wasn't one to delay things and opened it up. He focused on the letter in the middle of the case, set upon a fine silk pillow. He would need to throw this away later, people would kill to get their hands on such an expensive object. He opened the letter and read what it said.

Congratulations!
You are one of the lucky few that was picked to be the winner of this prestigious tour! You leave on March 14th from your city and will arrive in Paris on the 15th. There you will meet the rest of the winners at the Saint James Paris! You're accommodations are completely provided! Travel, fares, food, all are covered. On the 17th you will disembark from Paris on the legendary Orient Express for a tour of Europe and into the Carpathian Mountains! We cannot wait to see you, anything you need will be provided. A Black Status Card has provided for you to purchase anything you might need. I look forward to meeting you on the Orient Express.

Sincerely,
Your Provider

"What the fuck?" Bob read the letter three times, making sure that he read every word correctly. Satisfied that his eyes haven't gone completely, he didn't know what to think. He had watched the news on one of the new television stores in Hunter's Point and heard about this Orient Express raffle. And he had been chosen. "Well, I'll be damned. I'm going on a trip to Europe." He mumbled quietly, smiling like an idiot. Robbie J. Thompson, former gangster crime boss and now homeless person, was going on the Orient Express. It sounded like some bad joke. He pocketed the letter in his intact pocket and began playing on his harmonica once more, playing to the tune of "I Feel Good" by James Brown.

Not before putting the card and tickets they gave him inside of his bag of course.

[Lady Absinthia]

Claire McManus

Location: Boston, Mass - O'Flanagan's Pub; basement - underground fighting circuit
Interacting With: Miller, Connor, Murphy, The Delivery Man

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"I got nothing to worry about, me against some chick that weighs what? Hundred pounds soaking wet? Easy money," Miller said as he bounced around in place, punching the air a few times quickly.

The air hung heavy with the smell of cigarette and cigar smoke hung heavy in the basement of the south Boston pub. Once a month fighters would meet up and go full out on each other. There were no rules, no cameras; the fight stopped when someone was unconscious, dead or tapping out.

In the center of the room was a chain link cage, two fighters stood on either end. Miller stood over six feet and close to two hundred pounds with dark empty eyes, veiny muscles, bald head and covered in scars beneath his multiple tattoos. At the other end stood a woman around five and a half feet tall, green eyes, brunette hair and a coy smirk playing on her pale lips. She was toned, cut and kept her mouth shut.

People around the ring where placing bets, yelling cheers, shaking the cage as they gripped it it. The woman slowly lifted hee gaze towards her opponent, waiting for the bell. Two men stood outside the cage behind her.

"Come on Claire, you got this," they said in unison. She patted the cage behind her before cracking her knuckles. Miller stood there, still bouncing around, a bit of sweat sheen beginning to form. Claire just locked eyes with him as her hands dropped loosely to her side's. Then the bell rang and Miller charged, Claire stood still.

Till the last moment that was, Miller through a sloppy punch, underestimating the Irish Rose. Her fists came up quickly; pummeling into his ribs before she grabbed the back of his neck and drove his face into her knee. He kneed her ribs, she spun behind him, back fisting to the base of his skull.

The fight continued, Miller quickly realizing his mistake. Blow for blow they exchanged and blood splattered on the mat. Round one, round two, round three. It was half was through the goth round when things finally started to change. Claire caught Miller behind the knee; sending him to the mat.

She took the opportunity, snaking around his backside and lacing her legs around his waist; putting him in a sleeper hold. Tightening down as he struggled to get the minx of a spider monkey off his back. It was no use, Claire had endurance. He quickly slipped off into unconsciousness. After a few moments the bell rang, signaling the end of the fight and Claire was announced the winner.

Letting go of Miller she stood up and walked to the edge of the cage, the door swinging over as people cheered and jeered. Taking their winnings, sucking up their losings. Outside the gate stood a short old man of Asian decent in a black suit holding an intricately carved box and held it out to her.

"Claire McManus, this is for you," he said handing it over to her. Once she took it he left. Claire looked it over as she walked back to the locker room, her brothers Connor and Murphy coming quickly up behind her and asking what all was about. Claire said nothing as she opened it and found the same as the other winners had.

"Well fuck me sideways and call me Sally, looks like I'm going to Paris," she exclaimed.

"I'll call ya Sally all ya want lass," Connor said.

"But I ain't fucking ya," Murphy followed up.

[TheIrishJJ]

Wolfgang Kasimir O' Conor

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Location: Supermarket
Interacting With: Cashier, The Delivery Man

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Wolfgang was in his local supermarket, buying food for the week ahead. This was one of his weekly tasks, unless he wanted to starve for the week. Since he lived on his own, all of the chores that would regularly be spread out across the household fell upon him. Wolfgang couldn't wait to have children, he was sure that he'd love to have them because they'd be his own family, but also because then he could make them do the shopping.

Wolfgang strolled through the aisles, picking things that he needed. Alcohol? Check. Coffee? Check. He had all of the essentials. So he went to the cashier.

"Guten Tag," said the blonde cashier, who began scanning his items, "Guten Tag," Wolfgang replied. Whilst the cashier scanned his items, Wolfgang noticed that there was a black, expensive looking sedan, perhaps a BMW. He was sure that he had seen it a couple of times on his walk to the shops, but dismissed it.

"Entschuldigen Sie!" Wolfgang turned his head to the cashier, who had packed all of his bags and was waiting for him to pay. "€12.97, bitte."

"Entschuldige bitte, dass ich es vergessen habe" he apologised to the cashier, as he handed over €13, and collected his change. Just as Wolfgang left the check out, he saw a man get out of the black sedan. Wolfgang put his free had over his pistol. Thankfully, Wolfgang had been granted a Waffentragbewilligung a couple of months ago, as he was worried about rising tensions. Wolfgang and the man almost walked into each other at the doors, and the man, who was in a black suit, spoke to Wolfgang.

"Hello," the man said, surprising Wolfgang that he was speaking in English.

"Yes?" Wolfgang replied, now speaking in English also.

"I have something for you," the man told Wolfgang before giving him a box, walking away back to his car and driving off.

"Hey!" Wolfgang called, but the man wouldn't stop or turn around. Wolfgang opened the box, and was very surprised to see what was inside.

Congratulations!
You are one of the lucky few that was picked to be the winner of this prestigious tour! You leave on March 14th from your city and will arrive in Paris on the 15th. There you will meet the rest of the winners at the Saint James Paris! You're accommodations are completely provided! Travel, fares, food, all are covered. On the 17th you will disembark from Paris on the legendary Orient Express for a tour of Europe and into the Carpathian Mountains! We cannot wait to see you, anything you need will be provided. A Black Status Card has provided for you to purchase anything you might need. I look forward to meeting you on the Orient Express.

Sincerely,
Your Provider

"My God!" Wolfgang said under his breath. He then realsied that he'd be able to do the travelling that he had wanted to do for a while. Surely his boss would give him a couple of weeks off for his hard work, right?

[SouffleGirl123]

José Bloomer

At: Her apartment
Interacting with: Box deliverer guy
Date: 1st March

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José was sprawled out over the white couch in her apartment, eyes not straying from the TV screen. It was the first day of the young adult's week off and she was going to spend it in one of the best ways possible, in grey sweatpants and her fluro green tank top, in front of the TV, heater turned on replacing the 27 degree (Fahrenheit) room in front of her with a toasty temperature. Of course she'd probably eventually get onto doing something else at some point throughout the day but José just needed the comfort and assistance of relaxation the couch and television supplied for now. A stack of DVDs were piled upon the DVD player, awaiting use.

What she wasn't expecting was her mobile to go off right next to her ear so when it did so, making point of the incoming text message with a quick paced electric guitar riff, she jumped slightly, accidentally hitting a button on the television remote. As it did in such circumstances, the TV switched its source to the cable programs from her DVD player. An announcement had started seconds before. Something about the reopening of something? José wasn't paying much attention as she scrambled for the remote before pointing to toward the TV. She attempted to switch it back to her DVD to no anvil, shaking it a couple of times. She had the guys over for pizza and footy one night and Richard accidentally spilt beer on the remote. Since that occasion it still worked but plays up slightly every now and again. She gave it another hard shake and, to test it, tried to change the channel. The TV flickered as if the channel was changing, however the same ad continued to play. José sat up properly from her "half way up" position that had come from scrambling for the remote just before to catch it was something to do with the Orient Express. The ad seemed to finish just as she was paying attention. With a sigh she tried changing it back to her DVD, this time successful. She then remembered what had startes that odd few moments and looked down at her phone which, somehow, still sat at the arm of her chair, not knocked over by José's earlier frantic scramblings. It was an unknown number. Possibly a gig offer? She opened the message and found, to her surprise, an ad about the same thing. She only skimmed over the message before closing it, tossing her phone to the side. So someone got the Orient Express up and running, maybe she'll go one day in the future, it's be an excuse to see France for a few day before the trip but she wouldn't be close to having money for that sort of thing, maybe one time in the future, years away.

It was just enough time for José to get comfortable and back into her unflattering position on the couch when there came a knock at the door.

"Coming!" She yells, attempting to cover up a groan before rolling off the couch. True, not the most elegant way to get off a couch but definitely the most enjoyable. She snatches her leather jacket and slips it over her shoulders. A tank top was fine when a heater was keeping the small loungeroom of her little one bedroom apartment but certainly not for the nippy air of the rest of the building. She throws open the door to be greeted by a tall man. His skin was paler than José's and he donned a business suit (which would be much too formal for a visit to José's house), there didn't seem to be any evidence in his appearance that he'd just walked up 7 flights of stairs (as you must to get to José apartment but the oddest thing about him was the box he was holding. It was cloaked in intricate markings, golden latches held the box shut. José was so intrigued by the box she almost forgot about the man until he spoke.

"Josephine Bloomer?" He asks, a heavy swedish accent flowed from his mouth, usually hearing a strong Swedish voice comforted José, she may have only been in Sweden for the first 6 years of her life but that's long enough to become her homeland, but the sound of her full first name made her recoil slightly.
"José," she corrects him. She never liked the name Josephine, there was no reason in particular why it just sounded sick to her ears.

"Uh... well... Miss Bloomer this is for you," he says handing her the box before nodding a farewell and disappearing down the stairs. Slowly José stepped back into her apartment, shutting the door just as slowly. She placed the box on the kitchen bench before slipping off her jacket and throwing it onto the couch. She inspects the box inquisitively, looking at the intricate markings closely. A few minutes the young woman runs a hand through her bright pink and purple hair before she opens the box. She pulls out the letter which sat on top.

Congratulations!
You are one of the lucky few that was picked to be the winner of this prestigious tour! You leave on March 14th from your city and will arrive in Paris on the 15th. There you will meet the rest of the winners at the Saint James Paris! You're accommodations are completely provided! Travel, fares, food, all are covered. On the 17th you will disembark from Paris on the legendary Orient Express for a tour of Europe and into the Carpathian Mountains! We cannot wait to see you, anything you need will be provided. A Black Status Card has provided for you to purchase anything you might need. I look forward to meeting you on the Orient Express.
Sincerely,
Your Provider

"You are kidding me!" She exclaims, looking through the box's contents. It seemed real enough. Her eyes widened with excitement more with each document and item. She purses her lips, carefully stacking them into the box and placing it on the bedside table of her room. Not in her wildest dreams would she imagine something like this happening!

[Lady Absinthia]

Natasha Brinne

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Location: Apartment
Interacting With: No one
Date: March 2nd

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Dr. Brinne had finished her shift and headed home to her apartment in San Francisco. After grabbing a few hours of sleep, a shower and gotten something to eat she sat down in the living room to take a closer look at everything in the box that had been given to her.

She till wondered if she should go but right then she didn't have a lot holding her back; we'll she did but she had not been on a vacation in so long it couldn't hurt to go. She had accrued a lot of off at the hospital and her Attending had been pushing her to take some time off. She needed to unwind.

Opening the box she thumbed through its contents as she curled up on the couch. It seemed pretty straight forward. She would arrive at the airport, someone would be waiting on her to escort her to the plane and help her through security. The images of the hotel looked beautiful; as did those of the train.

On one of the inserts was a web address with log in information. Pulling out her lap top, she keyed everything in. The site was pretty basic but it held the names of the other winners. "Interesting," she thought to herself. Clicking on her name a window popped up where she could upload a video and instructions to introduce herself to the other winners if she wanted.

"Why not," she muttered. Taking a breath she positioned her lap top before her so her net cam had her in frame; taking a deep breath she hit record.

"Hey everyone, not exactly sure what I should say here. I guess I could start with my name. I'm Natasha Brinne and honestly I'm not sure what to expect from this trip. Seems really out there to me," she laughed slightly as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Well, I am 25, an emergency room surgeon and in my last year of residency here in San Francisco. So I guess if anyone gets sick I'll be the one you call. What all my friends do, I am half debating just opening up a clinic in my living room, would cut down on the commute time," she said shrugging.

"I guess I will meet all of you soon, hope I'm not the only one to upload one of these feeling like a dork. See you in Paris!" she said, waving at the camera before hitting stop and uploading the video.

Stretching out on the couch she stared at the ceiling wondering what the other winners would be like. She hoped at least one other English speaker had won, otherwise it was going to be a very quiet trip.

*Everyone has their own log in information in the packet.

[Pundii]

Joel Grau

Location: Munich Airport Hilton, Senatorial Suite
Interacting With: Me, Myself and I
Date: March 3rd

It took a little over a day for Joel to speak to his Commanding Officer, along with a pair of security consultants regarding the package he'd received. Eventually, after some clarification and general security checks, it was decided that the offer which had been extended to Joel was neither a threat, nor a very elaborate scheme to get some time off on his part, and the man was able to actually start on the paperwork which would lead to his leave. Finally having his application for leave approved, Joel left the base and took a bus into Munich proper, duffle bag over his shoulder as he looked over the black card he'd been provided, standing at the bus station in Munich as he thought of what he'd buy. Joel hadn't really had to purchase anything for himself for some time, for his entire time in the military, everything he required apart from alcohol, cigarettes and snacks had been provided to him, and he only had two rather simple pairs of civilian clothing.

"Orient Express... Probably should get something which looks nice." Joel muttered idly to himself in German, though he figured shopping personally could come later, first he needed a place to stay until the 14th. Knowing he'd be leaving from the airport for Paris, Joel hopped on yet another bus for the airport, looking through his phone for hotels close enough to the airport, specifically those with five stars, deciding to treat himself while he was able. Settling on the Hilton, he wandered in and spoke to the receptionist, after explaining his situation and showing her the card he had, he settled on the Senatorial Suite, which was, of course, the nicest room he was offered. Making his way up to the room, he tossed down his bag on the bed and changed into some casual clothes, sitting at the desk to look through the box once more.

Finding the web address and log-in, Joel let out a soft "Huh," as he grabbed his laptop from the bag by his bed, setting it on the desk and opening it up, taking a few moments to connect to the wi-fi before he opened up the web browser and the address provided. Glancing over the names of the other winners, Joel chose one at random to click on - Natasha Brinne - and watched the short video which followed. Clicking back to the main page, Joel clicked on his own name, seeing that he was able to upload a video himself, thinking it through for a moment, he eventually shrugged and decided to do so, setting his laptop up for his camera to face him properly, before he hit record.

"Uh, Hi, Hallo, Bonjour to all of you. My name is Joel Grau, one of your fellow winners, I suppose. Looking forward to the trip, if anything - for the time off at least, don't really know what to expect, though." He let out a soft chuckle, running his hand over his head as he recalled the kind of things Natasha had said in her video - essentially mimicking the precedent she'd set.

"I'm 27 years old, a member of the German Army, and I have been for six years - So I guess if you need help lifting something come to me?" He'd let out another chuckle, scratching idly at the chin of his beard.

"Oh, on a more useful note, I speak German - obviously - French, and English, so if anyone has any trouble with the language barrier, i'll be happy to help there. Well, I suppose that's it - I look forward to meeting you all, here's hoping for an enjoyable trip." Joel added a pair of shorter messages in both German and French, just for those who may not be English-speakers, before he closed the page and shut his laptop, looking back down to the black card he had as he considered what to treat himself to.

Well, he had always wanted a tailored suit.

[SgtEasy]

Bob

Location: San Fransisco, USA
Interacting With: Donovan D'Onofrio
Date: March 3rd

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Robbie J. Thompson woke from his slumber, clutching the case the Deliver Man gave him tightly. He blinked as the sun shone in his eyes, a car driving past him. Ever since that man gave him the case, the man kept it safely with him at all times. Thankfully, the law abiding citizens in the police controlled section of Hunter's Point didn't dare to steal a very opulent case from a sleeping homeless man. Mostly because a lot of them thought he stole it from someone. His stomach growled in hunger as he picked himself up from the ground, putting the case and his tickets into his old backpack. "Orient Express huh? I need to buy some damn new clothing." He looked down at his tattered clothes and snorted.

It was a short walk towards the only clothing store that actually accepted people like him to enter. The Closet was a low-key, small place that had cheap enough prices that he could actually buy. He walked slowly, looking around for any dangers. These tickets could change his life and he wasn't going to let some punk thief get away with stealing it from him. He took out all the money he had and counted it all. There was a lot of pocket change and a few bills but nothing worth noting. It all summed up to a lowly nine dollars and ten cents. He sighed as he approached the door, praying and hoping there were any clothes he could buy.

"Well, hot fuckin' damn. Robbie John Thompson enters the store." There was a little chime as he entered, signalling his arrival. Donovan D'Onofrio stood behind the counter, grinning at Bob with an amused look on his face. The rough Italian man used to be one of the many Italians to join the Demons and was one of the few to make it out without ending up dead or in prison. Proudly showing off the kanji for death on his muscled bicep, Don was a bit of a show off. He did respect Bob however and tried to give him the best deals he could offer.

Explaining his plight to the San Fran born Italian, he shook his head and sighed. "Life's been tough on all of us Bob. Business s'been slowin' down recently and the minimum I could offer you is an eleven dollar jacket, old boy." Bob looked down at his pitiful nine dollars with a sigh, thanking Don for his efforts. Before he left however, he thought about the case. Yesterday, after the shock of being on the Orient Express, he had looked over the various items in the case. One of them was the Black Status card the letter mentioned. He had no idea what that even meant but he had to at least try something.

"Don, d'you have a credit card machine by any chance?" asked Bob as he swung his backpack over and opened it, revealing the suitcase underneath. The Italian snorted before bringing out the machine he asked for. "Old boy, The Closet may be cheap but we're not poor. What'd ya need it for?" The homeless man opened the case once more, setting it down on the counter. The black card sitting atop the letter immediately caught his attention. Grabbing it, he closed the case hastily, setting it down on the floor. "Now, what is the most expensive thing I can buy?"

Don merely raised an eyebrow before unlocking a safe sat atop the counter, revealing a golden harmonica. It's price tag was a hefty three thousand dollars. The Italian picked it up, scanned it, input a code into the eftpos machine before gesturing for Bob to swipe the card. He grinned, swiping the card and inputting the number given to him in the case. Don widened his eyes as the "Old boy, that's a damn blank check! I thought you were on drugs or something man!" The homeless man nodded, grabbing the harmonica with trembling hands. It was the finest made instrument he had ever seen and now he could play with it. Bowing out and thanking the shocked store owner after grabbing new clothes for him to wear, he pocketed the instrument into his new jeans. He was grinning to himself as he walked to the nearest hotel.

---

Later that day...

---

Bob flipped back into the bed, signing as he sank down on the soft mattress. He hummed the tune of "Best Day of My Life" by American Authors, thinking about what he could do with this card. Currently living in the fanciest hotel in the whole of Hunter's Point, he hadn't had this kind of wealth in a while, since the peak of the 8th Street Demons. Rolling off the bed with a soft THUMP!, he strolled around his room, thinking about the fact that his life has changed for the better, not for worse. Shaking these thoughts for another day and deciding to enjoy his new found wealth, he gazed at the computer in front of him.

Now Bob wasn't a dumb person and if he went to university, his minor would've been in Computer Science. Glancing back at the open case on the floor, the website address and log in credentials caught his eye. He picked it up and walked towards the relatively modern computer that was in the corner of his room. After turning it on, he immediately went on the Internet and searched the web address. Asking for his username and password, he logged in as Robbie J. Thompson. "Well damn."

Concluding the fact that the rest of the names on the list were the rest of the winners, he clicked on two videos under their names. Natasha Brinne and Joel Grau. Afterwards, he debated whether or not he should introduce himself but chose to be friendly. He pointed the camera towards his face, still bearded due to laziness, and clicked record.

"Hey there, uh fellow winners. My name is Robbie John Thompson, preferred name Bob, talkin' to you in Bayview-Hunter's Point, San Fransisco, California. To be honest, I'm looking forward to this trip and as a homeless man, this trip has already changed my life." His voice turned soft, eyes drooping slightly. He hoped that none of the winners would judge him on the fact that he was a homeless man. He prayed that none of them recognised him as a former gang leader and thug.

"I'm 50 something or other. With no one to celebrate your birthday, ya kinda forget, you know? I'm looking forward to meeting ya'll on this here trip. Never been outside of the ghetto so this is kinda crazy. Well, I guess I'll see you in two weeks." He cut the recording off before sighing. Hopefully he made a good first impression.

[TheIrishJJ]

Wolfgang Kasimir O' Conor

---

Location: Queen Suite, Hilton Zurich Airport
Interacting With: Nobody
Date: 4th March

---

Once Wolfgang got home after recovering from the shock of getting the tickets, he decided to go to Zurich to go shopping. He didn't bother bringing anything with him (other than the box containing everything) he would buy anything he needed when he got to Zurich. Wolfgang got into his car and drove to Zurich.

After driving for half an hour, Wolfgang found himself in the heard of Zurich. He parked his car, and looked at the expensive shops. They were all amazing, Wolfgang had never seen things so expensive in his life! The first stop, of course, was to buy some suitcases. He needed somewhere to put all of the clothes and other things he was going to buy in the next couple of hours. Once he had gotten a couple, he continued on.

Firstly, Wolfgang went into a shop for some casual clothes. He got a week's worth of underwear, and also some jeans and shirts. Wolfgang also got a couple of pairs of Vans. He hoped that he could wash his clothes on the train, or at least get some more. Perhaps he could buy some in Paris? The next stop was a tailor. He was sure that he would go to some formal events. He picked out a navy blue suit, a black suit, and a grey suit, along with a pair of black shoes.

Once he had gotten all of the clothing he thought that he needed, Wolfgang went to a computer shop, and bought an expensive laptop, so that he could browse the internet, and also a fancy phone. "Ahh, I'm going to have some fun with these." he told himself whilst he smiled.

After buying everything, Wolfgang got in his car and drove up to Zurich airport. He didn't plan on flying to Paris, as it would be faster to get the train since he'd skip checking in and everything, but the airport had a Hilton hotel. Once he was there, he found that their queen suite was available, and decided to check into it.

When he was up in his room, Wolfgang decided to go onto the website that was in the box. He logged in, and looked at the three videos that were already uploaded and was pleased that he wasn't the only one not from America. What was even better was that there was someone who spoke German. He was always asked about his Irish ancestry when he spoke in English, but everyone treated him normally when he was speaking German. Wolfgang ummed and ahhed for a bit, but then decided to upload a video of his own, following the template of the others.

"Well, um, hello, I guess I should say. I'm Wolfgang, and I'm Swiss and Irish, but I live near Zurich, in Switzerland. I'm a police officer, and I can't wait to meet all of you, and I especially can't wait to get on the Orient Express. I speak English and German fluently, if any of you speak those languages. I still remember some Irish back from school, and I know quite a bit of French for visits to Geneva. I know a few words of Italian and Romansh if you're from those parts of Italy or Switzerland."

Just like the man named Joel had done before him, Wolfgang left a short message in German, but also attempted some in French, Italian, Irish, and Romansh. He then shut down the laptop and turned on the TV, flicking through and deciding what to watch.

[Lady Absinthia]

Claire McManus

Location: Apartment
Interacting With: Her pain in ass brothers
Date: March 4th

---

---

Claire flopped down in the dinning room chair, flipping open her lap top and started looking through the various videos that had already been uploaded. Seemed there were a couple of Americans already and some from Europe. She wondered just who else would be joining this little expedition. Shrugging she pulled her hair back and decided that she might as well upload one as well.

"Hey there, I'm Claire McManus, otherwise known as The Irish Rose; MMA fighter out of South Boston," she said sporting a rather grisly looking shiner on her left eye. "Hopefully I'll be seeing better out of this eye by the time we all meet but from the looks of it, least we got one doctor I can pester," she laughed. Her voice had a strong Irish accent mixed with a classic Boston one.

"Since all these videos so far are in English, looks like we all will be swapping tales in no time, but yeah, as others have said, if you have issues you can come to me. Speak English and Sarcasm," she said shrugging. "Oh and Gaelic, Italian, Russian and Spanish," she added with a smirk.

"Aber sie kein Deutsch spricht," Connor pipped in.

"Aut socios Latinique, miseranda, peremi," Murphy snickered as he got in front of the camera and fixed his hair.

"Elle a besoin d'étudier plus," Connor laughed before Claire grabbed both of them by the ear and pulled them out of the way.

"And this is why I am glad I am going on vacation, getting away from them," she said as they came back up behind her and started making bunny ears. Claire narrowed her eyes and turned, tossing the chair to the side.

"Oh she is right mad now Connor," Murphy laughed.

"Claire! Claire! Don't!" Connor chuckled as he tried to hold her back. It was about at that time that Claire lunged them and the three broke out into a fight, wailing on each other as they always did. It went on a few minutes before Claire finally came back and sat down in front of the camera again; her brothers rolling around on the floor holding their matching busted noses.

"See you soon," she said rolling her eyes before stopping the video and uploading it.

[Wade Wilson]

---

Location: His Spare House in Canada → His Home in California
Interacting With: His Girlfriend, The Other Winners (via video), & The Deliverer of Thy Holy Package

---

~ March 4th, 2016 ~

Brendan’s desktop was immediately put on standby as the doorbell rang, and he got up and rushed to the door. Flinging it open, he was surprised to see what looked like an FBI agent, complete with shades and terrifying demeanour that made him wonder if he’d done anything illegal. In the person’s hand was a beautifully carved oak box, with golden plates on the corners and a golden pin-lock on the front.

“Oui? {Yes?}” Brendan said, trying to hide his nervousness by layering on his French accent, the word practically dripping with it.

”Brendan Wilcox?” The ‘agent’ said, speaking perfect English with a deep American accent. Apparently this was so important they didn’t even use a delivery-agent man from Montreal.

“Oh, yeah, that’s me.” He rubbed the back of his neck, gesturing to the item with his head. “That for me?” His eyebrow perked up. The man simply nodded, passing him the box, with Brendan eagerly taking it from him. As the man walked away, Miles said a polite goodbye, and watched the black car drive off. With a grin, he shut the door and sat down, sliding the pin out and opening the box carefully. His eyes lit up like a child at Christmas as he saw what was inside - a trifolded piece of paper nestled in a velvet bed. He gently lifted the paper out, almost struggling to grasp it properly as it was stuffed like a turkey. Brendan decided to read the letter first, as it might provide some information on what this was all about.

Congratulations!
You are one of the lucky few that was picked to be the winner of this prestigious tour! You leave on March 14th from your city and will arrive in Paris on the 15th. There you will meet the rest of the winners at the Saint James Paris! Your accommodations are completely provided! Travel, fares, food, all are covered. On the 17th you will disembark from Paris on the legendary Orient Express for a tour of Europe and into the Carpathian Mountains! We cannot wait to see you, anything you need will be provided. A Black Status Card has provided for you to purchase anything you might need. I look forward to meeting you on the Orient Express.

Sincerely,
Your Provider

“What the…” He muttered, completely confused by it all. “Léa! Des choses bizarres se passent! {Léa! Strange things are happening!}” He cried out, and his girlfriend came down the stairs and walked over.

“Brendan? Est-ce que tout va bien? {Brendan? Is everything alright?}” She put her arms around his neck, looking at the letter in his hand.

“Oui, oui. Mais regarde… {Yes, yes. But look…}” He gestured to the contents of the paper, whilst also filing through them himself. It was amazing! Tickets from San Francisco to Paris, an unlimited credit card, tickets to board the Orient Express… it was heaven. His girlfriend pointed at the letter.

“Ça dit quoi? {What does it say?}”

Brendan realised the whole thing was in English, and translated it for her. Léa let out a gasp of shock and sat next to him, looking at him wide-eyed. “Vraiment? En aucune façon! {Really? No way!}” She patted him on the back. “Vous avez du plaisir, oui? {You have fun, yeah?}”

Brendan nodded with a smile. “Etes-vous sûr que vous serez bien sur votre propre? {Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?}” He looked at her, concern sweeping across his face. She simply smiled and kissed him, putting a finger on his lips.

“Chut, je serai bien. Maintenant, allez vous amuser! {Shh, I’ll be fine. Now go have fun!}” She paused, before adding. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He smiled, before packing it all up and grabbing his suitcases from upstairs. Luckily, he’d already packed, since he was set to leave that night anyway. Léa was going to stay in Québec another day anyway, since she had to visit her friend before leaving. Unfortunately for her, she was going to spend more than one day without Miles - two weeks, in fact. But, he’d promised they’d Skype the next day anyway, so all turned out well. He just hoped they’d have internet on the train, or some way of contacting loved ones at home.

~~~

After a lengthy drive back to San Francisco, Brendan had gone all out - bought an entire array of cool and new gaming shirts, bought half a dozen bottles of Dr. Pepper, and bought a few suits, just in case. He was now sat at his gaming computer, with his suitcases behind him, and typing in the url that he’d found within the box’s contents. He’d spent the last half hour gawking at the pictures of the hotel and the train, and also contemplating whether or not a strange alien mummy might appear and start killing people. So, he decided a break was in order.

Once he’d gotten on with his login, he’d watched the videos from the previous winners. They were a diverse bunch, and he’d noticed some multilingual ones, too. He was just glad he could understand them all. With a crack of his knuckles, he pressed the record button.

“Salut! I’m Brendan Wilcox, though people tend to call me by my middle name, Miles. You might know me better by my YouTube channel CanadianBacon. I’m 25, speak French, English, and mild German & Spanish. ‘Why French?’, you might ask. Well, probably not. Either way, for those that haven’t seen my channel or just don’t know, I was born in the French-speaking province Québec, more specifically Montreal. I still have a house there, which I’ve actually just come home from,” he gestured to his suitcases, “but I live primarily in California. I also have a beautiful girlfriend called Léa, who’s staying in Montreal for one more day before coming back here. Anyway, that’s about it for me, folks, but I can’t wait to meet all of you in Paris! Goodbye, adieu, guten tag, and adiós!”

After adding the exact translation in French afterwards, he added a shorter version in Spanish and German at the end, like Joel, Wolfgang, and Claire had in their own languages that they know. With that all done, he logged off, changed into his emergency bedclothes (which he was going to wash later anyway), and dived into his bed with a satisfied ‘oompf’. He was gonna need a while.

[Sugar and Spite]

Selina Thompson

---

Location:Her home, located in Texas.
Interacting with:Ella, The Other Winners (via video)

---

"Ella! Ella honey, give me that back." It was officially eight o'clock in the morning and Selina Thompson had received the beautifully adorned box just two days previously. She honestly was still debating on whether to go to Paris or not, but her only way of going was now clutched in the hands of her three year old daughter whilst she ran around the living room laughing cheerfully. "Princess, please give mommy her things back," she called out once more. Her daughter continued to run around the house, her blonde hair much like her father's bouncing freely. "Fine, that is it. Give me that box or you won't go and see the horses today." The little girl stopped dead in her tracks, sitting down on the couch and holding out the box in her little hands. "I'm sorry mommy," she said. Walking over and taking the box back while sitting down beside her, Selina would smile. " I know darling, but how many times have I told you to stay out of my things?"

Ella huffed. "To many momma."
"That's right."
"What's in it?"
"Well... it's.. it's a ticket to a far off place and mommy has to decide to go or not."
"Will I get to come?"
"No, my sweet. You'll have to stay with Uncle Charles."
"Are you going?"
Selina paused. Her brother, Charles, could be trusted with Ella. He had proved that plenty of times. Besides, her cousins were there and everything. Paris was a one time shot and everything was paid for... "I think I am. Here, do you want to make a video with me for the other people who's going on the trip?" The girl nodded her head, smiling. "That's my girl," she said while opening the laptop that was on the coffee table and getting things sat up. "Come on, get in my lap." When everything was ready, Selina leaned over and pressed the enter button, starting the video and taking a deep breath before speaking.

"Um.. hi there, I guess. I'm Selina Thompson and here's my daughter, Ella. No worries, she won't be joining us. Feel free to call me Sea, if you like. I see some of you out bi-lingual and I'm sorry to say that I only speak English, so feel free to make jokes in the other languages that you speak. I am currently the age of twenty-five and live in Arlington Texas. I still have yet to pack, but, you know. This is no where near as detailed as I would hope for, but I look forward to seeing you all in Paris." She shut the video off, uploaded it and proceeded to close the laptop. Now all that was left to do was pack, fix breakfast and call Charles.

[Lady Absinthia]

Natasha Brinne

---

Location: UCSF Medical Center
Interacting With: Dr. Reynolds
Date: March 12th

---

The last days had sped by much faster than the doctor had anticipated; extra shifts and making sure that she was caught up with all her patients medical records to ensure she wasn't leaving anything undone before she left hadn't helped. She felt more stressed than ever.

She had had no time to relax or spend with friends, she wondered if all of this was truly worth it. She had watched the videos that had been uploaded since she had submitted hers; the group that had won seemed interesting enough. They seemed excited to go, much more than she felt at least.

Coming off her last shift before her official vacation began, she changed out of her scrubs and into her jeans. The sun had come up a few hours before and before she left she decided to take a few minutes to just breath. Making her way to the roof of the medical center, she looked out over the city. The view was rather lovely.

"Not going to jump are you?" Dr. Reynolds asked as he leaned against the wall to the service hatch.

"I might," Tasha said as she smirked, stepping closer to the edge and looking down at the ground below.

"So, have everything you need to the trip?" he said, chuckling slightly at her antics. Tas nodded as she shoved her hands into her jean pockets. "Well, if you need anything, call me."

Tas nodded again before walking over to him and giving him a quick hug. Then she was gone, making her way back through the hospital and then towards home. It was time for her to actually start packing, she hadn't began getting anything together yet. She hoped she wouldn't forget anything; granted she figured if she did she could just use the credit card provided to her.

"Screw it," she muttered to herself as she made a hard right and started driving away from the apartments. Might as well get some new clothing for this trip, maybe it was time to indulge herself for once. She couldn't remember the last time she had.

*Time jump until the 12th, next will be day everyone leaves for Paris.

[SouffleGirl123]

José Bloomer

At: Her apartment
Interacting with: Richard, Other winners via video
Date: 5th March

---

---

Getting approval from work hadn’t been hard, José has been quite dedicated to her job since she was only an apprentice, besides, March was one of the quieter parts of the year. Although the hairdressers often got enough work to keep them busy through the day the makeup artists only got the occasional bridal party or such and spent most of their days joking around. Even with this in mind José promised to put more hours in when she returned, no quite sure if it was for work’s benefit or her own, she genuinely loved her job.
A few days, 4 to be exact, had passed since the arrival of the small wooden box and José had not dared to reopen it, not that she was sure why. Maybe because she saw no need to, maybe she was scared it was all a dream. However, there were many times she picked up the box and turned it in her hands, taking in every detail of the intricate craving. It was beautiful, a lot more so than what one would expect to find in José’s small apartment. She traced over the carvings with her finger before placing the box in front of her on the bright blue covers of her single bed. Slowly she once again opened the box. It was all there, as it was that first day she opened it. It wasn’t a dream, an illusion. This was real and it was happening to her. This time, instead of looking over the papers and pamphlets in the box she took out each of its contents, reading them one-by-one slowly and carefully. She didn’t want to miss a thing this time. She took out a black card and stared at it intently. How much is on it? A lot, I’d expect. The things some people could, some would, do with this card. José didn’t think about it. She make it a very strict rule to save it for trip and its essentials. Even though her job only supplied a low income José was content what she had, she more than she needed, she could pay her rent on time, she had food in her stomach and more often than not a bit left for saving or to go out.

Once she had read every pamphlet and piece of paper in the box the young adult packed it all back as neat as she could (which, admittedly, wasn’t very much so), leaving out a single pamphlet, before placing the box in her shirts drawer. Call her paranoid but this is something worth stealing and although no one, unless she let them, would try to break in unless they were content with climbing flight after flight of stairs before attempting to break in she was going to keep it out of the way.

She dragged over the silver laptop from the end of her bed, opening it and turning it on. She picked up the pamphlet, turning it over to find the web address and typing it into the address bar. She followed the instructions for logging in then found the page with the winners’ names. Some names had a video underneath, she watched each one. It was nice to know a bit those she’d be taking the trip with and, at least, what they looked like.

José clicked the record button on her current screen when showed José’s reflection back at her.
”Uh…. Hi,” she starts. Oh congratulations José, all confidence on stage and with clients at work but you can’t greet people over internet. [color=ec008c]”Um, so I’m José Bloomer, as it says above I guess, Oh and please don’t call me Josephine,[color]” she shudders ever-so-slightly, ”I work as a make-up artist in Hartford, oh and I’m the lead singer for a rock band called Outway Street, we only do local stuff so you’ve probably never heard of us. Uh, I moved to America from Sweden when I was 6 which sorta explains why my accent isn’t quite full-on American. I’m 22 by the way. Um….” she purses her lips, stopping herself erupting into word vomit. ”I’m fluent in English, French and Swedish. I thi-“ That was when there came a knock from the door

“José!” Came the voice of her band’s lead guitarist, Richard.

”What?!”

“You should be at practice, we were meant to start now,” At this José looked at the time displayed on the bottom right of her screen- 5:02

”Crap,” she mutters, ”Gimme a minute!” she looks back at the camera. ”Yeah, I look forward to meeting you all,”. She give a quick summery in French and Swedish, as the others did in their other languages before uploading the video to the site before slipping on her leather jacket walking over to Richard. ”Sorry, I lost track of time,”

“And because of this one time us guys were thinking kicking you out of the band,” he jokes. José rolls her eyes, jokingly hitting Richard in the arm as they walk out the door.

[SgtEasy]

Bob

Location: San Fransisco, USA
Date: March 12^th

---

Bob had enjoyed the blank check as much as he could. Sitting in his room in the West Antin San Fran hotel, he was preparing for the trip of his life. Thinking back, he had never lived such a life of luxury. Buying a car, an apartment, refurbishing the Soup Kitchen, buying new clothes... Buying things that he wanted and not needed. No damn essentials, just things he had always wanted in his life. Of course there were things he couldn't buy with money, he had long since healed from the wounds of Layla dying. 'Keep tellin' that to yourself old man. Yer not going to find it on this trip, the people you're with are too young, you're going to die alone.' His own harsh words to himself no longer surprised him.

With no job and no true hobbies, all he had to do was walk and think. Just think. Thinking could kill a man, like it almost did to him. That's why he didn't think much after that, decades of letting life go in a routine. He had tried to get a job but people in the ghetto feared and reviled him for what he was and what he did. He dearly hoped none of the fellow winners knew him and only thought of him as some lucky homeless man. He had already thought of a good backstory. "I think sayin' I'm just a poor old black dude isn't enough." He muttered to himself, pacing around the room.

He had already packed up all the bags, his trusty backpack and harmonica was coming with him. Dressed in a formal tuxedo with tie, black polished shoes, solver wristwatch and of course, a rosary. He had never thought of travelling the world before and as he glanced towards the black card laying atop his one bag of clothes, he thought of stealing it. He shook his head and kept pacing around the room. He was done with that kind of crime. He was clean now.

'Oh, the Irish girl. Heard from Don that them Irish women were real feisty.' Bob's face turned from surprise to disgust, crushing the voice almost immediately. Fucking horny, his brain was. Even at fifty, it was still filthy with thoughts. Still, it would be good if he had the chance... to love someone again. His hand touched his face, wiping his damp eyes and cheeks. "Damn it Robbie, you're going to die alone. Face the fucking reality. You're old and homeless. Who the fuck would care if you got new clothing? You're still a middle aged black dude from the worst ghetto in San Fran." He scolded himself. He believed it, wholeheartedly. So why were his tears still flowing?

[Lady Absinthia]

Claire McManus

Location: Logan International Airport - Boston
Interacting With: The Delivery Man
Date: March 14th

---

---

Claire had arrived by Taxi to the airport, stepping out and glancing around. Her brothers had been driving her nuts the last few days. The closer it came to the date she needed to leave the more concerned they grew. Questions of what was going on, who was the person funding this, why all the secrets and more. Claire had no answers for any of these questions. The best she could do was check for updates on the website, there were none minus a count down until the day they all were supposed to start flying out.

The Irish Rose was not one for fashion trends and even with the card she had spent little to prep for the travel. A few high end outfits for special occasions was all she had bothered to buy; the rest was just her usual day to day things she wore and a couple of work out outfits; she wasn't about to let all her training go to waste on this little adventure. She had fights scheduled for when she returned and she was damn well determined to make sure she was in prime condition.

As she exited the cab the same delivery man was there that had given her the box. She perked a brow and stepped over to him as the cabbie unloaded her luggage. "This way Miss McManus," he said ushering her through security.

"What about my passport? Don't you need that?" she inquired as she held it out. The man shook his head and took the ticket she had been given, handing it over to security as they were pushed through before the long line waiting.

"You have, shall we say... Diplomatic Immunity to such things," the man said as they walked. Through international flights and out onto the tarmac proper where a black sedan was waiting for her. "Please get in," he said as her luggage was loaded into the trunk.

Slipping into the car she sat down, the delivery man biding her farewell before shutting the car door for her. Leaning back she glanced as the car drove off to the private hangers of the more affluent. Her mouth went slack jawed as she saw the private jet that was there waiting on her, complete with red carpet.

"Welcome Miss McManus," the pilot said as he opened the door and took her hand. "I am Captain Leon and I will be flying you non stop to Paris this evening. Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked as he escorted her to the plane.

Inside it was plush and regal; hard wood trims, leather thick seats, tables, a place to sleep in the back of the plane, flat screens and more. Claire looked over to him and shook her head slowly. She wasn't expecting this type of treatment. She was just hoping for a seat in coach where she wasn't sitting next to someone who had a B.O. problem.

"Not really that I can think of unless you can tell me something about the host," she said with a smirk. The pilot laughed and shook his head. Claire shrugged and flopped down on one of the leather couches, stretching out and getting comfortable.

"Then, let's get this party started!" she exclaimed laughing. The pilot nodded, the steward closing the plane door since she was the only one leaving from Boston this evening.

*Each character will be flown out of their city of choice. Those flying out of San Fran together, you each will be escorted to the plane but until all three are aboard, we won't be taking off.

[Pundii]

Joel Grau

Location: Munich International Airport
Interacting With: The Delivery Man
Date: March 15th

Joel had spent only a little bit of his time shopping, and he had mostly done so for a few formal outfits, having very little in the way of dinnerware of general smart wear other than his uniforms - which he had no desire to bring on the trip itself. Making his way down to the lobby of the hotel, he'd settled on a navy blue jumper, along with a pair of khaki trousers and a white, buttoned shirt, simple but nice, and most of all comfortable. Joel had planned to take a taxi to the airport itself, but as he got into the lobby he found himself stopped by a smartly dressed, older man in a black suit and coat.

"Mister Grau, i'm here to take you to your flight." The man said rather simply and kindly, Joel had to make a double-take as he looked to the man, having not expected anyone to show up ready to bring him to the airport itself, not that he had any complaints. "Very well, thank you, that would be wonderful." The man took his ticket, and Joel followed the man out to a black sedan which was waiting, placing his bag in the back before he climbed in, idly staring out the window as the car moved off the main road toward a gate, driving out onto the tarmac itself and off toward a private hangar.

Joel certainly hadn't expected this sort of reception, until this point he'd figured he'd be sitting a normal flight, but as he saw the private jet they were approaching, it finally dawned on him just the kind of treatment he was to receive. Something about it unnerved Joel, that lingering feeling that it was all just too good to be true, but he wouldn't question it, at least not openly, apart from the feeling in his gut he had no reason to.

"Welcome, Mister Grau," the pilot greeted Joel, opening his door and watching as the man climbed out. "I am Captain Adler, and I will be flying you to Paris this evening. Is there anything I can do for you?" He asked simply, escorting Joel to the plane itself.

"A glass of whisky wouldn't go awry." Joel commented simply, the pilot giving a smile and a nod as the steward poured Joel his drink and handed it to him. Joel took it with a curt nod, watching as the pilot moved off to the cockpit as he took a long drink, settling down into one of the lounge chairs by the windows, he wasn't quite sure what to think of all this, never had the man been so privileged in his life.

Letting out a sigh, he shifted the glass in his hand idly, staring out the window as he settled in for the flight to Paris.

[TheIrishJJ]

Wolfgang Kasimir O' Conor

---

Location: Queen Suite,
Interacting With: Receptionist
Date: 14th March

---

Wolfgang was in the shower, listening to some music that he had bought on his new phone, when he heard the phone ring. He quickly got out of the shower, not bothering to put a towel on, and picked up the phone that was in the bathroom.

"Ja?" he asked into the phone,

"Guten Morgen, Herr O' Conor, your car to take you to the airport is waiting for you," the receptionist told Wolfgang,

"Car to the airport? I didn't order a car, and I was going to get the train to Paris,"

"One moment, please," the receptionist told him, and Wolfgang could hear her talking to someone, "I'm sorry, but the man insists that this is a car for you,"

Wolfgang sighed, "Don't worry, then, tell him I'll be down as soon as possible," before putting the phone back on the hook.

Wolfgang quickly got dried and dressed, before packing all of his belongings into his suitcase. After he finished packing, Wolfgang left his room, and got the lift down to reception. When he arrived at reception, he gave his key back to the receptionist, before noticing the man in a black suit. "Good morning, Mr. O' Conor. If you would like to follow me, I will take you to your plane." Wolfgang did as the man asked and followed him. Once Wolfgang's suitcases were in the boot of the car, and both Wolfgang and the driver were sitting in the car, the car began to go to the airport.

After some time in the car on the way to the airport, Wolfgang noticed that instead of dropping him off at the drop-off point, or even at the private lounge, the car continued to drive into a private area, and even continued onto the taxiways of the airport. The car was driving towards a small jet, which looked too small to be a regular commercial jet. He could see that the door that doubled as a set of stairs was down, and that there were two flight attendants next to it. As the car slowed to a stop, one of the flight attendants came to the car door and opened it, and asked him if he would like a drink. "Just a glass of vodka and lemonade please." he told her. "Of course," he replied, before going into the plane. Meanwhile, the driver had been unpacking Wolfgang's suitcases from the boot of the car and was taking them to the cargo hold of the plane. The second flight attendant, this one female, walked over to Wolfgang to escort him to his seat. "Right this way," she told him, before leading him up the stairs, and to a seat, where his vodka and lemonade was already placed on a table. "Thank you," he said to the flight attendant, who then went to the cockpit.

"Good morning, Mr. O' Conor, I am Philip, your pilot, and we will shortly be taking off. We should arrive in Paris in just over an hour and a half. Just a reminder, that like Switzerland, Paris are in the GMT+1 time zone, but instead of using Swiss Francs, they use the Euro for their currency. There will be an opportunity to change any money you have into Euro at the airport, and the current exchange rate is about €0.90 for every Franc," was heard over the intercom, and Wolfgang reclined slightly in his chair as the plane started to taxi to the runway.

[Lady Absinthia]

Natasha Brinne

---

Location: San Francisco International Airport
Interacting With: The Delivery Man
Date: March 14th

---

Stepping out of the taxi, Tas pulled her sunglasses off and placed them on the top of her head. She had done some shopping over the last forty-eight hours and splurged a bit more than she had expected; especially on the match set of Coach luggage. You only live once right?

Though even with the splurge she was dressed down. She opted for a comfortable pair of blue jeans, converse sneakers, a soft white cotton t-shirt and an old hoodie for the flight. She had flown over seas several times; a summer in Moscow with her mother before she died, a year exchange in Geneva her freshman year of college, and a couple of Doctors Without Borders trips during the summers when she could fit it in. Last thing she wanted was some up tight getup on a nearly 11 hour flight.

"This way Dr. Brinne," the delivery man who had dropped off the box said to her as he came out of the crowd. She nodded, paying and tipping the driver before she followed; a handler checking her luggage at the curb for her.

She was surprised how quickly and how little was needed to get through security; it normally took hours. Guess whoever was funding this had pulled a lot of strings. She wasn't complaining, she really didn't want to deal with the TSA today, or any day for that matter. Who in their right mind would?

"Dr. Brinne, tis a pleasure. I am Captain Wilkerson, I will by flying you and the others to Paris today," the elder captain said as he shook the doctors hand.

"Um, thank you. How many others?" she asked curiously.

"Two ma'am, you're the first to arrive. Anything we can get you before we leave?" he asked.

"Not that I can think of, thank you though," she said as she entered the plane and looked around. This she could handle, much better than normal flights. Taking a seat in the middle of the plane by the window, she set her purse down on the table in front of her and got comfortable.