ONL

The Empire State

I may throw my hat into the ring! May I reserve a merchant guild/dynasty within the Boroughs?

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Robert Adler

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Location: Chicago (Grimaldi Books)
Skills: N/A

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"Zoie, Mali, got it. Name's Rober Adler, Insurance." Robert said to asnwer Zoie's questioning and giving Mali a look as well, the last part about insurance coming on pure instinct to the point that he cringed a little at his own words. Jesus, he had been far too long in that job for his own good. But he returned the more important matters at hand, dealing with those two new ladies, Adelaide and the accident which wasn't an accident? And here he was back to dealing with fraud. Great.

"Yeah sure." Robert went straight for the box of tissues on the counter, pulling out a couple and giving them to Adelaide first alongside the box itself. It looked like she needed those straight away, though she seemed to take the part about the fire not being accidental better than expected. And accidents never being accidents for the people of Grimm? Robert looked puzzled at what the ladies were insinuating, though kept quiet as Zoie and Mali went to the bathroom. Robert crouched down beside Adelaide and gave her a moment of silence out of respect, before beginning his own questioning. "So what you said about Grimm...What did you mean? That there are no accidents in Grimm, only intented deaths? Pardon me if I sound sceptical, but even I have to admit that not all fires are people trying to fraud the system. Is there something I'm missing?" He asked his employer, giving her whatever time she needed to answer him. He was sceptical, not heartless. "I don't want to seem pushy, Adelaide, but all of this sounds... I don't know, dramatic?"

🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S.

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Mahendra Huq Zalil

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Location: Main Deck (Stairs) -> Second Deck (Mahendra's quarters)
Skills: N/A

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And as if the Gods themselves were doing their outmost - discreetly so, but none the less - to make Mahendra blush even more through his cold cheeks still freezing from the late-night swim, Mosi appeared to join the group for a brief conversation about, of course, how Mahendra had fallen into the river. His words flustered at first, but through chattering teeth just like poor Vera, he tried to answer her like he had answered the others down in Cargo. "Mosi dear! Ye-yes, I did fa-fa-fall into the water, but it was only due to my own clumsyne-ne-clumsyness. Yes and thank you, but I sha-shall be fine, if only a little co-co-cold." Mahendra told Mosi as he was escorted further up the stairs to the Second Deck.

He was certain not to forget today's events, and shamefully he was certain that nobody else would either. Oh the shame.

Mahendra was sleeping on the Second Deck of the ship, and when the others left for the Elite Deck, Mahendra gave a final friendly smile to each of them, including Lauren who once again offered to help him if the needed arose. "You are too kind, dear Lauren. But thank you nonetheless. Good night." And with that, Mahendra was led into his quarters by the crew and in the end was alone. It was better this way, he thought, than to stand out there amongst the Fellowship and appear weak from the cold. But at the same time, as Mahendra got undressed and found a towel to dry himself up more, he couldn't help but feel a little lonely. Tired, cold and lonely.

Soon Mahendra was in a new set of dry clothes, approriate for sleeping as he hung up his wet clothes to dry and went to his bed. Not many hours earlier he had already had a nap, but the Bengali needed more rest now. If not for today's escapedes, then for whatever the next day would bring. As he closed his eyes and things faded to darkness, one things remained in his vision; those glowing, red eyes of the mysterious lady.

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Richard Barker

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Location: Lower Deck (Richard's quarters)
Skills: N/A

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What does one expect a private detective to do right before he goes to sleep? Kneel down before the bed and say a prayer to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, asking for guidance? Wash his face and brush his teeth? Fill up his scotch glass with yet another drink of cheap booze since everything's illegal those days? Richard had done all of the above through his life, both as a street cop in the dirtied and bloodied streets of New York and as the no-nonsense PI Barker. As he lay in bed and got ready to sleep the not-so Big Sleep as one said, he did neither. Richard simply lay in that bed, taking in both the comfortable feeling of not sleeping on a couch, and thinking.

Richard usually slept on his couch in his run-down office, the ceiling fan slowly turning around on an electric bill he had been due to pay for a few weeks over time while the sound of traffic and angry shouts echoed from the window. Sometimes he cigarette still clung to his dry lips, but tonight there was none of that. Only him in his bed, the muffled sounds of what one could expect of a lower deck on a ship, and his usual detective thoughts. He thought about what had happened that day, the whole shebang.

They had gotten a ride on the steamboat to go up-river in an attempt to gather some more clues about George Jay Cold the I., and ended up in what Richard felt was a Buster Keaton movie. Burning his sleeve twice, ripping his pants and breaking a chair like it was a cheap bench in Central Park. And neither had gotten any good clues, at least not towards the Gould-case. But Richard could not get the image of that Franklin figure out of his mind; him, sun-burned and reading that journal that clearly wasn't his. Even if it wasn't related to Gould, Richard would be damned if he wasn't going to try cracking this little case. If not for some ambigous moral reasoning, he would do it out of spite.

And as he continued to dabble in the what's and how's of Franklin the Journal-man, Richard slowly but surely began drifting off to sleep. For once he didn't drink himself stupidly drunk, this was one rare occasion where it was natural.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Alexander Polawski

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Location: Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

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Alexander didn't pay much attention to the tv being pulled over to the quarantine group, though he had to take note of the old guys clear amusement of whatever they were watching. Nah, watching children's tv wasn't anything that interested him that much, especially since he didn't know any of those that were put in quarantine. Thalia, Beatrice and Manny had clearly dodged the bullet of getting or spreading lice to one another. Thankfully so, since Alexander didn't want to shave his head clear off and he figured that was the easiest way. He'd fought for his country without proper hair on his head before, and he wasn't going to do that again.

When Doc told them to stay in the recreation room while the non-green tagged people were taken out, Alexander watched as the group was led out, trying to picture them without hair. He felt most sorry for the girls, even if he didn't know them. But that left him asking the same question he had asked Manny a few minutes earlier. "I wonder if..." Alexander began to question himself, finding himself standing up from his chair just as the Ash fellow went up to do what Alexander had been about to do; Search for some records.

Alexander limped up beside Ash, watching as he ended up with the very same records that Alexander would have chosen. "Well I'll be damned..." He couldn't help but say quietly, taking in the view of the Rolling Stones records that ol' Mugsy would have done a lot to get his hands on those days, and here they had four of them! Alexander looked back at Manny, whom he talking about this earlier, and back at Ash as "Beggars Banquet" was put on. Oh man, those notes really brought him back. "Good to finally meet a fellow Stones' fan out here."

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Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper

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Location: Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Conference Room -> Former Sauna Room)
Skills: N/A

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Nigel "Hadrian" wasn't angry at what Hank was doing then, ending up in the same yellow-badge group as him and pulling out that TV just to show the Gods-awful childrens tv-show that he was laughing almost hysterically at. No, Nigel wasn't angry; He was truly pissed off. Had he been in that very same show as the dreaded 'real' Sportacus was, smoke would be steaming out of his ears, nostrils and all. The very shame of it all, especially with everyone else able to watch this humiliation with their very own eyes, Nigel "Hadrian" felt a growing urge to do something stupid to Hank.

But he didn't punch Hank or anything, only breathing heavily as he sat down in a chair and hid his face in his palm. He had dealt with students like this plenty of times before, so he was good at not lashing out against them, at least not in a way that would get him fired. Not that he could get fired from any job then and there per say, but going full-on Germanic berserker on Hank would surely get him thrown out of the camp, or worse killed. With Wayne joining in on the fun, Nigel "Hadrian" slid further and further down in his chair, avoiding viewing the tv as best he could though sometimes having to see just how bad it was.

It was really bad. And Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper would have his revenge, somehow, some day.

"...May the powers that may be please give me cancer..." Nigel sighed back to Hank, trying to pay attention back to the red-head he has asked earlier. He didn't fault her for only giving him an feeble "yes", how could she trust him? Soon she was joined by another girl, so Nigel left them alone.

Then they were ordered out again, this time out of the recreation room and out to get their whole lice-situation hammered out. Nigel didn't waste any time getting out of his seat and following Doc out of the room and into what Nigel figured could have been a sauna before. He'd never been in one before, and he certainly didn't expect to have the pleasure of experiencing one in those times. The barber chair gave the room more logical sense though, and Nigel did as told and sat down at the bench. After Hank's earlier mocking, Nigel didn't know what to make of Hank's new and understanding tone. As if he wasn't a complete old asshole. Was revenge worth it, with him trying to comfort those girls? Maybe. Looking halfway at Hank, Nigel figured it was easier for him to talk rather than the strangers. "Not really. Unlike you, I'm not pickish."

PXO: Alpha Academy

Cole Phelps

Level: 1
Day/Time: Day Three - Evening
Location: Northrend-Valiance Keep, Borean Tundra
Tag: Vent @Zarkun - Rubick @WXer - Constantina @DracoLunaris - Blue @Holy Soldier - Zero @arowne97
Experience: ////////// (0/10)

Cole had never gone through a portal in his life, nor had any real concept of what it would be like. Sure he had attended an exhibition of the technologies of the future, but that was all nothing but technical gizmos and fancy talk about ideas, nothing which could have prepared the L.A. Detective for travelling through a portal. Once on the other side, that's when the cold finally kicked in. Cole Phelps pulled his fedora down and the collars of his suit up, when he noticed the rest of the group and where they were. The young boy with a...blue turtle, both dressed in warm clothes. At least they had been prepared. Then it was the lady clad in Roman-eque armor, looking like she meant business like the dark Darion himself. Lastly it was another young man, Vent, their leader it would turn out. He looked like a mix of an Army Pilot and a robot for the previously mentioned exhibition.

And then it was the entire setting they found themselves it. "This feels more and more like we're in a movie or something." Phelps said to himself, trying to keep warm as he took in all the sights of people and creatures around them. "Sure ain't Kansas."

As they were briefly left behind by Darion and Vent, they were quickly ordered by a man clad in silver armor ordered them to follow and...grab their gold? Cole preferred dollars, but he wasn't about to argue. Not when he wasn't the leader of the team, though he'd like to know a little more about the others if they were on the same side. "Yes Sir. Come on people, you heard the man." Cole Phelps told the others, starting to move after Vent. If they were lucky, perhaps they had some spare clothing?

🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S.

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Mahendra Huq Zalil

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Location: Cargo Deck -> Lower Deck -> Main Deck (Stairs)
Skills: N/A

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Mahendra was more than ready to vacate the Cargo Deck and move back up to his own room, but the Bengali waited patiently - albit shivering and colder by the minute - like the gentleman he was for the introductions between J.C. and the other members of the Fellowship to be done with. He'd live, this was but a scratch. Perhaps more in his honour than anything, but he'd live through the cold. Sneezing, but alive. Mahehdra watched as George scooped up the always clumsy Vera and began to carry her out of the Cargo Deck, and followed behind Lauren as she led the way.

With shivering, but dry hands, Mahendra pulled out his soaking wet ticket for inspection as they went from Cargo to Lower Deck. "That is ve-ve-very kind of you, Lauren, bu-bu-but I am sure I will manage. Nothing a good cha-cha-change of clothes cannot fix." Mahendra said back to Lauren as she offered to help him, giving her a shivering smile so that his teeth shivered too. But as they came to the stairs leading from the Lower Deck up to the Main Deck, Mahendra knew something was wrong. When he lifted his hand to give his ticket to the crew, only a shaking and blue hand appeared before them. Mahendra looked in confusion at his hand, then up at the crewmember, back at his hand and behind him. His ticket was gone!

"I'm terribly sorry, my good man, bu-bu-but I must have lost my ticket somewhere!" Mahendra tried to explain, but it appeared as it was not needed. The wet trail of dripping water proved enough explaination about the night's events, and Mahendra was told that he'd be led back to his deck and room by the crew. Mahendra gave the crewmember a kind smile and a half-bow, not having the energy to finish it. "I am looking forward to a good warm sleep tonight..."

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Richard Barker

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Location: Main Deck (Open Air Lounge) -> Lower Deck (Richard's quarters)
Skills: N/A

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Richard took the last contents of his glass of booze in one quick motion, feeling the buring liquid flow down his throat and warming him in a way only scotch or a woman could, as of lately only the first. The man Faye described could have been on a really, really bad day, but nonetheless it didn't sound like anything useful to the hard-boiled detective who finished his drink. "Sounds like a man with a lot of baggage, but then who doesn't?" Richard commented Faye, putting down the glass and giving the bartender what he owed. "Yeah better hit the hay. It's already been a long day for two detectives in deep water."

Richard stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray and got off his chair just in time to hear Faye's once again hillarious 'jokes'. But the gentle tap on his shoulder told him otherwise, and the cut-nosed Yankee couldn't help but give her a small smile and a tap on her shoulder back. "You're not too bad, Faye. No way in Hell funny, but you're not bad. Good night." Richard said surprisingly soft to Faye, flicking off the remaining ash on his cigarette and pocketing it for later use. He walked from the bar-area, over to the stairs with his ticket ready, and was allowed down into the Lower Decks.

Soon Richard had come to his personal quarters, locked himself in and standing alone in his room. Hadn't been too long since he had left after changing out his pants, which still lay carelessly on the bed. Throwing his hat onto his suitcase and sitting down on the chair, he tossed the ruined pair of pants into the suitcase as well before untying his shoes. And his feet were stinking, thanks to the sweltering heat of Egypt. Not that he cared, he wasn't too good of a smeller with the bandage still wrapped around his nose, and so he pulled off his socks as well, his jacket and emptied his pockets before layind down in bed. It was a bed, and that was good enough for Richard.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Alexander Polawski

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Location: Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

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Alexander wasn't too happy when Manny came over to sit with him, but the old veteran didn't stop him from taking the test beside him. Manny hadn't tried to look at his piece of paper and what he'd answered to the group's questions, and he was one of the few he actually trusted in that room, besides Thalia and Beatrice. Bea's group of Newnan was halfway okay in his book, mostly out of trust for her, and so far Ash had seemed like an okay grunt. But Alexander finished his questionaire in silence, holding in every emotion that attempted to free themselves from his shackled mind as he wrote. It wasn't easy. Nothing was easy those days.

With the test all done and handed in, Alexander watched as Manny went to get his check-up. Alexander wasn't sure whether to feel sorry or happy for him; he was a doctor himself and usually did the physicals himself to others, but then again it must have been nice to get checked on by someone else. It was probably how it felt to have an electrician checking your home for you, when you'd done it a thousand times before. As Manny left, Alexander looked up at him and gave him a supportive smile. "Good luck, Manny."

Before Manny it had been the foreign-sounding lady who looked scared, which Alexander could understand, then the odd-ball who'd made quite the show in the showers, and then another redhead from the Newnan group. None of then which he knew, and not the youngster who went after Manny. Some were separated from the others, and then it was his turn. Ol' Mugsy got up on his good foot and redneck-pegleg, limping with determination to Doc and Miss Mary. "Do your magic, I'm ready."

Mugsy wasn't really scared of undressing for the doctors; he'd done that a thousand times in front of the Army docs and fellow grunts the few times they got proper showers in 'Nam. What did he have to hide? The pegleg attached to his leg or the ancient gunshot-wound in his thigh? Blood was taken, eyes and heart checked, most of what Mugsy had gotten checked before he and his wife took that last boat-tour to the Bahamas. He was given the all clear, and got dressed before he was given a green band on his wrist. "Thanks Doc. Ma'am...Miss Mary, sorry." Perhaps he could ask Miss Mary later where in Chicago she worked, him having been born and bred in the Windy City. He rejoined the others, finding a seat beside Manny. "Weren't much undressing when you were a dentist, I guess?" Alexander said to Manny, before casually looking over to his own folks; Thalia and Beatrice. Now he and Thalia could get prosthetics, perhaps they would be less useless than before, and Manny and Beatrice could feel they wouldn't have to baby-sit them as much.

That would be nice.

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Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper

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Location: Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

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Nigel "Hadrian" didn't think that the test was too hard. In fact he found it quite reasonable for them to fill it out, seen how many they were and how many possibly had gone through the exact same process before them. Though some of the questions were rather open, bordline philosophical he felt. But like he had said earlier, "When in Rome...", he went along with it. Giving Erica a smile as she sat down with him and filled it out, he handed in his test and waited for the next step in their integration into the so-called General's personal empire.

When it was time for the medical checks, Nigel "Hadrian" watched as some of the others started volunteering to go. One after another went in and came out, and to his great surprise it was not Wayne who was separated from the group. Nigel "Sportacus"...yeah, it was getting to him, watched in equal surprise at Daytona came into the room with a box for Hank? Leaning towards Erica, Nigel whispered her a question. "Any idea what the box and Hank's about?"

The Neo-Roman didn't get time to ask much else as he decided it was his turn, and walked behind the screen. Unlike Alexander, Nigel "Hadrian" wasn't as keen to undress full, and after Doc and Miss Mary had checked his blood, heart and the rest he only disrobed partly as they checked him. For a while it seemed like he was good to go, until they found their casus beli to separate him from the others. Doc runs a comb slowly through Hadrian's hair and steps back. "Well that's fun. You got lice. Over there until we get a handle on it," he says quietly. Nigel didn't get angry at Doc, but he gave off an audible sigh of annoyance. Of course he had been the one to draw the short straw. "Ough...could be worse I guess. Thanks." Nigel said as they strapped a yellow band around his wrist like a Gaulish slave with the pox, got dressed and went over to the segregated group of a red-head and the young soldier. "Hadrian, or Nigel I guess." He said flatly to Hunter who talked the most of the three of them, looking at the redhead. "We'll be okay, I'm sure. I could be worse. You're with the bigger group?"

PXO: Alpha Academy

Bentley

Level: 3
Day/Time: Day Three - Evening
Location: The Forbidden Lands Temple
Tag: @Guardian Angel Haruki@DracoLunaris@Holy Soldier@DJAtomika@Tenma Tendo@Zarkun@Wxer@arowne97
Experience: ////////// ////////// ////////// (0/30)

It didn't go past Bentley as he tried to have a conversation with the being known as Dormin; it being the other's comments in the background of as much as one could have a reasonable conversation with an intangible being. Delsin noted the immense size of the temple's interiour, Tiz remained silent after seemingly feeling the same sense of dread they all did, and Piper and the Boss? It had been pretty clear to the wheelchair turtle that the Boss wasn't the most diplomatical person of the two gangs, and Piper had taken care of this rather quickly. Had it...no, she been around the Boss before?

Bentley continued to listen carefully to what Dormin told him and them all, making mental notes and maps in his turtle head before he realized what their Herculean tasks would be. "Did you say "Colossi", plural?" Bentley asked in his nerdy, nasal voice, looking at the statues around the room. Repeating the words Dormin spoke would have been redudant, but as if a third-party viewer was present, the mentally superior turtle did so anyway. " We kill the new colossi, and you'll tell us what you know? Sounds good, oh you who's name is "Dormin"."

Bentley around his wheelchair and rolled over to the rest of both gangs, Dormin's words fresh in mind as well as the Prince's warning; Dormin was a deciever. Bentley and the Cooper Gang had their fair share of decievers throughout their long career, and so Bentley would take caution. "All right gangs, listen up. Time to make a plan: I suggest each group go for one colossus. Tiz and Delsin with me, Shantae and Piper with the Boss. Let's try to scout it out and observe it from afar for as long as we can, before we engange it. Try to figure out its movements and weaknesses and all that. I suggest we take one each first, and then return here together to brief the others how it went down. Then we'll ask our questions together, and go for the two remaining colossi, and repeat. What'cha think, Gang?" Bentley tried to form a basic plan for the others, lacking the other variables that would give said plan more flesh on its bone.

Looking at Tiz and Delsin, Bentley continued. "What do you two think of going West to the Prison?" With a quick look back at where he'd spoken with Dormin, even though the being known as "Dormin" had been present in the entirety as far as he knew. "Eh, oh being known as Dormin? Do you know how any of these colossi look like? Or how did you know that they had arrived to...your land?" Bentley asked Dormin, not certain that he would receive an answer, so after a possible answer or lack of answer he turned back to Delsin and Tiz. "Anyway, like I said earlier I am by no means the muscle, But I have several other tricks up my sleeve;" A set of two robotic arms extended from his wheelchair. "These two little helpers, always ready to pick some pockets. And this" a pair of binoculars that one would recognize from earlier, " is my Binocucom, binoculars and a way to communicate with you." two small rockets popped out of the wheelchair "My rocket boosters," a high-tech dartgun extended from the Binocucoms "Sleeping darts, it's in the name. And finally these" Bentley finished, fiddling in his pockets with his turtle hand and pulling out a small metal ball with three red lightbulbs blinking. "is a bomb. Don't worry, I have them under my control!"

Bentley put away all of his gadgets, and continued. "If my sleep darts work on the colossi, unlike they did with the last giant we fought...we could get up close and deal some damage before it wakes up. Alternatively I can drop bombs. But I'd first like to get a good look at what we're facing."

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Robert Adler

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Location: Chicago (Grimaldi Books)
Skills: N/A

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This really was a day Robert hadn't enjoyed all that much. Except for the sight of Adelaide forcing defeat onto Caeser and Keystone earlier, the events of today had either brought upon Robert annoyance, or as of now, guilt. As Robert stayed with Adeliade after having helped her to a chair, he watched her visible shaking and trying her best not to fall apart. So this Marc had been much more than her ex-husband, that much was understandable, and Robert couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Robert stood awkwardly beside her for a moment, before hestitantly placing a hand on her shoulder.

He wasn't used to comforting people he cared about. Mostly they were strangers or lying, but Adelaide was different.

"I'm sorry, Adelaide." Was all Robert managed to say at first, silently looking at Zoie continued to explain herself to them, but mostly himself. He was the one asking questions, 'cause he really didn't like being left in the dark. "My condolences to you too. Miss Crawford was it?" He asked, contemplating if digging more into her account of his death was better done now or later. But of course the door opened up once again, revealing another women entering the book store. "Oh for the love of...Sorry, is she with you, Miss Crawford?" There were too many people going in and out of that book store that day, and Robert wasn't qualified to deal with them. He pinched his fingers against the ridge of his nose, closing his eyes shut as he tried to figure out what the hell to do now. "Anything you need?" He asked Adelaide, figuring she needed the attention more than anyone else.

🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S.

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Mahendra Huq Zalil

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Location: Cargo Deck
Skills: N/A

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It appeared that everyone seemed shaken, a tid wet and cold, but all in all alive and well. The gift of life was one dearly appriciated after such an endeavour, after all the death that the Fellowship had been befallen back in Cairo not that long ago. Old lady Neema and the Norwegian journalist, Haakon, not to mention Peter Keystone. Mahendra gave a thankful look to everyone present in the cargo hold, especially Lauren as she was thankful that he was safe. "Me too, Lauren, me too. Yes, relocating to our personal quarters would be better than simply dripping here." Mahendra said back to Lauren, giving her yet another of an already long line of tired smiles, before he did something he hadn't done since England.

Mahendra sneezed quite audiable. "I'm...terribly sorry about this." He was not used to it.

With the arrival of the Lord Major and George's sister, Gene, Mahendra too stood up like Vera had and attempted to stand as proper and proud as he felt needed around the honourable Lord Major. He had been a soldier of the Empire after all, and proper soldiers had dealt with worse things than a little water. "Lord Major, Sir." Mahendra adressed him, though not continuing as the cold shivering recommenced. He refused to let go of the cloth clad around his soaking wet clothes, and hoped that they soon could be honourable given the permission to go to their rooms. He really needed to change.

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Richard Barker

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Location: Main Deck (Open Air Lounge)
Skills:Observation, People-reading, Deduction

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"Dining room. Great." Richard's words seemed flat and unremarkable, like he was indifferent to the plan Faye had just laid out for them. Meeting in the morning in the dining room was the clear-cut decision of where to meet, as they both knew very well where it was and a good breakfast was normally a good thing. Except that Richard wasn't a breakfast person. He just didn't like eating that early in the morning, it made his stomach feel all funny. Had been like that for a few years now, but with the holes in his pockets he wasn't a man to think too highly of another meal to pay for. But the coffee sounded okay enough he guessed. "Dining room, tomorrow morning. Sounds like a plan."

Richard had gotten his stiff drink eventually, a fairly average glass of whiskey with two ice cubes. Not that the ice had much time to melt, as Richard grabbed the glass and started drinking while looking around the Open Air Lounge. It was an old habit that old dogs rarely stopped doing, like peeing the carpet. But the question of what had happened with the Olympic trio of Egyptian swimmers 1924 still posed itself in the back of his mind, so he kept looking.

He didn't see much though, nothing stood out to him or caught his attention. It was like sitting at a café on a busy street, looking out the window as you drank an overly-priced cup of cofee; plenty to see, nothing that made itself apparent to him. Just rows upon rows of anonymous faces floating past your window. But that was what bothered him; this wasn't a busy street in a million city, this was a steamboat on a river, nowhere for people to come or leave. So where was everyone he'd seen? The man he noticed boarding the boat, Franklin, the fella talking with Faye, everyone? This didn't sit right with him. "Say Faye, who was that drunkard you talked with earlier? Did he scram when those people fell overboard or what?"