9th Session

As per Alden's request, I'm going to try using section dividers to break up Ye Great Wall O'Text.

Overview, Pre-Game

This is where I sent things off the rails, at least for a while. Or, it's the session where we made the campaign more truly ours. Or, it's where I shameless nudged things. Maybe all three.

It all started when I got an email from Betsy saying that she wanted Martin to talk with Edgar Job, but she didn't want to take up too much session time. Should we do that via email? Was that a legitimate way to do it for this group and this run?

I had my own reasons for wanting things to go to Joy Grove, but I also didn't want to make folks go somewhere they'd as soon hand off to NPCs when we'd just come up with a fine way to do that. But, I also didn't want to skip Joy Grove because everyone assumed no one else would want it, so I told Betsy to check with the other players. The net result was that no one objected to a trip to Joy Grove, and others had at least some reason to want to be in that part of the country. Alden and I had stated that Lillian had interacted with both Henslowe and Job, but that never happened onscreen. Cat thought Joyce should visit Tennessee at some point.

So, I said I was fine with the Joy Grove-Tennessee detour and mentioned that _my_ temptation-to-be-resisted was to be a Bad GM and push folks to Bangkok when they'd clearly chosen to do the Yucatan next. After all, order didn't matter, and while I thought Bangkok had interesting possibilities for this group, those would still be there after the Yucatan. I'd just have to calibrate carefully. And if they weren't there, there'd be other possibilities. All good.

Betsy said that she was all in favor of shifting the action to wherever the emotional angst was. In this group, that's likely to be where the PCs are, as Cat has noted we're playing something that is at least as much Monsterhearts and Mythos as it is Trail of Cthulhu. That said, I pulled back the curtain to talk about the machinery of the campaign.

The authors, correctly, say to let the players decide where to go in Act 2 of Eternal Lies, advising only when they hit a wall and want guidance. This didn't seem the case at all. But, at the same time, it felt to me as if there was an intended default order. I don't know if that's the case; I sent off a question about that (along with many other questios), so I'm just speculating here. Just as Masks of Nyarlathotep has a prefereed default order, which is the order in which locations appear, so, it seemed to me, did Eternal Lies, that also being the order in which locations appear, which happened to be alphabetical order.

From where I sat, it seemed clear to me that the Mexico Clue was intended by default to come after the Bangkok clue. I'd compensated for that with the visitation from Amelia, a tool suggested by Eternal Lies itself, using a modified explanation from the Eternal Lies FAQ of a key point. And, geographically, Mexico City was the most logical place to visit after Los Angeles, and from there, the Yucatan.

But, the Yucatan had the feel of an Act 2 climax, leaving me with two concerns. One was that things after the Yucatan might feel like marking time until Act 3, though I knew that need not be the case, and I wasn't too worried. The other had to do with probably Stability and Sanity losses, and that did concern me, given I agree with the authors about not wanting the entire group to be replaced. It's much more powerful when some, perhaps even all, of the initial starting group makes it through the the bitter end. That did concern me, although Cat tells me I probably don't have to worry about it, at least, not on the Sanity / Stability front, as the system gives us several tools to deal it.

She added that she wasn't sure the authors were fully cognizant of the issues of trans-Pacific travel in 1937, unless they expected investigators to abandon the plane:

-- -- --

In the 1930s, the trans-Atlantic air passage was beginning to become possible--either by flying boats transiting via the Azores, or the occasional one-off experimental flight. However, it was entirely feasible by several models of plane; during WWII, DC-3s routinely made the trip, either from the tip of Brazil to Senegal, or direct from Nova Scotia to Scotland. (Also the Azores, but those airfields don't exist in 1937.) Both transits rely on making "ferry passage"--stripping out excess weight and adding temporary fuel tanks--but that posed neither a serious technical nor navigational problem.

That said, you can use the same techniques to do a Pacific crossing--Amelia Earhart's Electra has a shorter range than a DC-3, even with the modifications she made (it was essentially a fuel tank with a small cabin.) Both Lisa and I have looked at the route Earhart was using, and the ranges are definitely achievable. That transit does pose significant navigational challenges--you have to hit the right island in the middle of a lot of blue--but fortunately our group has one of the five best pilots in the world :-)

Either way, if there's any kind of deadline in the campaign, leaving North America pretty much means the PCs are on their own and not coming back to the States--steam liners still take about 7-11 days to make the transit from England to Boston/New York, and of course it gets harder the further you are from Europe; from India, round trip to the States is about a month, and it's much worse in parts of the world that weren't the keystone to the British economy.

-- -- --

That said, she had no objection to doing Bangkok first, adding, "there's a certain frisson I get from the idea of Joyce and Amelia heading straight towards each other..."

(This is Amelia Earhardt, of course, who started her around the world flight during this session.)

I also made no bones about revealing that there is no deadline as such, and to the degree that's not true, it's a periodic deadline, like a cultist ritual that happens once a month, but with more complicated timing. And, I agreed with the authors that when such dates fell should be dictated solely by dramatic concerns; i.e., we all know that we're using the narrative logic of time pressing, but it being possible for the PCs to get there on time. (The way we've handled this in the past is that the camera looks at whatever piece of paper has the relevant date, but the lens is out of focus, so the audience can't see the date.)

So we left things feeling generally agreeable, with no one wanting to push and me realizing that I'd out-clevered myself. Sure, I'd read Bangkok several times, the last recently enough to feel comfortable if we decided to shift the action there. But, my most recet prep work had been rough diagramming out Yucatan. I now started doing that for Bangkok, getting as far as the undetailed map of scenes so I'd know which ones pointed where.

I started rereading again and failed to find some minor detail that I am completely certain is in the text somewhere (although, oddly, the stats of a typical Bangkok Nectar fighter is not), then shrugged. I was at a party, it was the night before the game, and I doubted there'd be a problem.

Me: Well, it probably doesn't matter -- you guys know both phrases and which is which, so it isn't as if your PCs are going to voluntarily step into the ring.

Alden: You don't know me that well, do you?

Me: ...oh. (hastily recalibrates))

Meanwhile, Cat set me a few pages of background on Joyce and Tennessee, which I printed out and read en route to the game. This kept me from panic when the action shifted there.

Last Week On Eternal Lies and Preparing for a Visit to Joy Grove

Chris was under the weather. The cats were evolving before our eyes. Last time at Cat's place, Willow had figured out how to flick pages with her head. Cat says she's since learned how to roll dice and clearly wants to gm, but none of us would last five minutes in her game.

I did a review of what the group knew to date, including both the warning from Amelia (Vito's lost Amelia, not the aviatrix) and the reference to the mountain in Jonathan Brooks's unsent letter. Then, we opened with the group discussing their planned visit to Joy Grove with Janet Winston-Rogers and her half-sister and bodyguard, the nurse Elaine. They were going to let Dr. Keaton know that they were setting up a foundation for him at Johns Hopkins where he could work with his two unusual patients, Douglas Henslowe and Edgar Job under the observation of Dr. Cecil Walker.

Dr. Walker was Alessandro's PC, but when Alessandro had to drop, I decided that the PC had spent too much time studying Nectar. Clearly, though, he had been forcefully restrained, although at least one of his Pillars, The Truth Shall Set You Free, had shattered. Dr. Walker had left psychiatry after he felt he had failed to save one of his patients, a woman to whom he was attracted and who, despite his efforts, wound up in a mental institution. This is why he entered play as a mechanic, as he liked solving puzzles and failing a machine is not as bad as failing a human being.

I was fine with handwaving Dr. Walker being convinced to take up his old profession again. Heck, the whole thing could be presented to him as a puzzle. There are two men who need to be protected from cultists, themselves, each other, and their own doctor. There is a sufficient amount of money to set up a foundation. And so on.

Sure, there were several things to address on the visit, but that was all right. The first one Janet brought up was whether to let Douglas Henslowe know that Walter Winston was dead, something Joyce had decided to keep from him and the current bone of contention with Dr. Keaton. Janet was willing to let the PCs decide how to handle things; she just wanted to make sure not to contradict whatever they told Douglas.

Martin noted that Douglas was likely to find out eventually, and better it come from them than from some other source.

Martin: How did -I- come to be in the position of advocating for Not Lying?

Lillian: We're bad influences on you.

Joyce: I'm trying to make Martin into a good man -- like me.

The consensus was to let Douglas know that Walter Winston was dead, but not to be specific about when that had happened.

Somehow, folks started talking about movies.

Joyce: No, you could never film The Wizard of Oz. You'd need to many little people.

Lillian: Excuse me. I have to make a phone call.

Joyce: Gone With the Wind -- now -there's- a book that would make a good film.

Lillian: Are you kidding? They would have to build an Entire Set of Atlanta -- and then burn it!

Folks discussed the Tongue of Lies.

Martin: Technically, it's a gibberish. (pause) Neither of you know anything about linguistic studies, do you?

Joyce: I just speak lots of languages.

Lillian: You're the one who knows all about tongues.

Martin: Lillian, my -Dear-.

Joyce: I happen to be something of an expert.

Martin defined "gibberish". [Anyone remember how?]

Joyce: So it has a linguo-syntactical structure but there is no actual meaning conveyed.

Martin: <Blink>

Joyce: I went to college for a couple of years.

Martin: <Blink>

Joyce: I was going to be a teacher.

Martin: <Blink>

Joyce: Shut up, you little....

Someone (who?) wondered whether there was only one god behind events, saying that the mouths, deformed birds and spiders, and Nectar all followed one set of motifs, but the Man in Black whispering in people's heads seemed to be something else, or, at least, might be something else.

Martin (I think): Does the mouth even talk? Do we -know- that it talks? We know that it sings.

I forget what Lillian said that prompted this:

Martin: Lillian, you're preaching to the converted -- or rather, to the unconverted.

I think someone noted that it is utterly absurd to believe that any being would call itself The Liaar.

Lillian: The Outer Gods are grifting us?

Martin: No. Them. (I think "Them" = the cultists.)

Joyce: It takes a thief... Martin.

Remy Piper called. He had put the books from Trammel's mansion in a safe place and started cataloging them. And, he understood that they wanted to keep them, not sell them. But, there were some duplicates. There were three sets of The Revelations of Glaaki, one of which was even complete! He couldn't make up a full set from the two partials, both of which were missing the rare final volume (#12) as well as some others, but surely, they wouldn't mind him selling the incomplete sets?

Folks made it clear that they absoolutely objected, and gave him a heads up that there were thugs taking orders from Siam who were looking for these books and likely to be utterly ruthless in acquiring them.

I checked on a couple of things as the group prepared to leave for Joy Grove with their employer.

GM: Are you telling her about the Jeremiah bit?

Martin: Are you kidding? I'm not telling her I'm a f*ggot!

Joyce: Homosexual! Have some pride!

On further consideration, Martin did tell Janet about the death of an antiquities dealer in NYC as part of a general overview of what the cultists seemed to be doing.

I asked if Martin were going to be taking any Nectar with him to Joy Grove. Betsy said that he'd take two doese with him, puttig them in a box that would take him a lot of effort to open. Sure, Joyce could either make or find someone who'd make a harder box to open, but then he'd have to tell her he was planning to bring Nectar with him.

Lillian talked Martin into bringing her to a bar.

Lillian: Who'll be hitting on me here, men or women?

Martin: Yes. Do you want to do anything about the people hitting on you?

Lillian: Do -you- want to do anything about the people hitting on you?

Martin: Yes, but I'm trying not to set a bad example.

Lillian: I think we're way past that, darling.

Martin: I'm trying to redeem myself. (giggles)

Lillian slapped Martin on ass. He kissed her, on the cheek, but in a way to make it clear to everyone in the bar that they were a couple.

Lillian: Do you want to be my bitch tonight?

Martin: How do you hear such a -word-, girl?

Lillian: You talk in you sleep.

Martin: You -watch- me when I sleep? That's kind of creepy.

He turned her down, I think finding the idea a little too disturbing.

[Was that right? I don't recall exactly.]

Alden noted that Lillian was probably boring to watch, as she slept like Adult Wednesday Addams, with her hands folded over her breast.

Martin (to Joyce): She sleeps like she's in a coffin.

I think Joyce was unsurprised.

Arriving in Savannah and Visiting a Nice Old Lady

Joyce painted a name onto her plane, The Wayfaring Stranger, inspired by the Johnny Cash song. The plane took off with Joyce, her co-pilot Fred, and passengers Lillian, Martin, Janet Winston-Rogers, and Elaine White. It was a two day flight to Savannah, and at one point, Joyce told Fred to take a break and called Lillian into the cockpit.

She had Lillian help her with something, I forget what.

[Anyone remember?] Joyce gave Lillian a very introductory flying lesson. She let het take the controls and pilot the plane through a few gentle tunrs.

Lillian (hopefully): If I get this wrong, we could all just die, couldn't we?

Joyce: Nah.

Lillian was disappointed, but perked up when Joyce said that there would be time for a flying lesson in Tennessee.

Lillian (kissing Joyce on the cheek): You are the sweetest thing.

Joyce: That's probably not true.

That last didn't seem to be said in a completely self-disparaging way, more like recognizing an obvious truth about the top several Sweet Things.

The plane landed and Joyce steeled herself for a visit to old Mrs. Virginia Henslowe. It wasn't that Mrs. Henslowe was at all a bad person.

Joyce: She's a nice old lady.

Martin: I don't want to visit her! Nice old ladies don't like me!

Lillian: Martin's a nice old lady.

Martin: I'm a f*ggot!

Joyce: Hey! We are in the south!

Martin: Right.

I think he said something about pretending to be talking to his father. [Anyone remember?]

Lillian either volunteered or was volunteered to accompany Joyce, who wincingly admitted that she'd worn a dress the last time she was in Savannah.

Martin: I'd pay six dollars to see that.

I think Lillian was a little jumpy about Joyce being the one driving.

Lillian Martin, can I borrow your flask a minute?

Martin: Certainly.

Lillian (seeing Joyce): G-d, she's wearing a dress! (takes a very big swallow and, I think, neglects to return the flask just then)

GM: So, Martin, you're alone in the hotel room, with a couple of doses of Nectar.

Betsy: I know I said he was bringing two doses, but is it okay if I change that to four?

GM: Absolutely.

So, Martin now had three doses.

Joyce and Lillian arrived at the Henslowe property. Carruthers, the groundskeeper, let them in, and Joyce introduced Lillian to Mrs. Henslowe. Sure, Lillian was a Yankee from up north, but she was a fine person for all that. Why, Lillian had this idea that Dr. Keaton could work so much more effectively if he had better facilities and didn't have to worry about money, so there was this Foundation created for studying very special patients. Mrs. Henslowe's son, Douglas, was one of those patients, and Dr. Keaton would be able to devote all his efforts to studying Douglas -- and a select few more patients, to be sure, but not an entire institution's worth of patients! And the money for this was already set aside, the whole thing having been Lillian's idea. Now, wasn't that just a miracle come from heaven?

Mrs. Henslowe agreed that it was, and thanked Lillian, declaring her an angel. Lillian said that she was just someone in the right place at the right time to do some good. Mrs. Henslowe was utterly charmed.

Mrs. Henslowe: Why, if my son were younger and right in the head...

Lillian: That's never stopped me before.

Mrs. Henslowe did hear this, but I suspect she either pretended not to or decided to take it as some odd sort of Yankee compliment to her son, perhaps a little crude for polite company, but well meaning, nevertheless.

Now, the Foundation was operating out of Johns Hopkins University, in Maryland, under the auspices of a fine doctor, Dr. Cecil Walker, so there wouldn't be a thing to worry about. And just to make sure that Mrs. Henslowe wouldn't be _too_ far from her boy, why, they could arrange for her to move to Richmond!

Mrs. Henslowe: Richmond?

Joyce: Don't you want to visit Richmond?

Mrs. Henslow: Visit, yes, but what would I do in Richmond?

Still, she agreed to talk to that nice Mr. de Genaro, whom she remembered fondly, and who, Joyce assured her, would review all the necessary steps and paperwork with her, and set things up with a good, Southern lawyer. Why, maybe Mrs. Henslowe might consider leasing out her house!

I'm not entirely sure why they particularly want Mrs. Henslowe to sell the family manor, with its private cemetery, but that's a long term side plan. Joyce privately quipped that Lillian could buy it, proto-goth girls and decaying plantation mansions apparently going together.

And Mrs. Henslowe needn't worry about how she'd get on in Richmond. They could easily get her some help, some --

And here, Joyce took a deep, deep breath and used the C word to describe the help.

Noting the reaction, but completely misunderstanding it, Mrs. Henslowe told Joyce that she had met some perfectly _fine_ folks of That Kind.

All in all, this was a fun scene to play, I think because of the oddity of seeing not simply a Joyce-Lillian semi-confidence game, but one where Joyce did a lot of the talking. It's not a role she's by any means bad at, but it is not the first thing with which one associates the sharp shooting high flying woman.

That said, this did take its toll on Joyce, as was seen after she and Lillian bid their farewells and returned to the car.

Joyce: Lillian, I need that flask now. (Lillian hands it over.) Thank you. (drinks)

Lillian: Keys?

Joyce: You really think I -- Okay, fine. (Joyce hands them over.)

Lillian drove them back into town.

Joyce: That was remarkable. I think I betrayed everything I held dear there.

They returned to the hotel. Martin, by now off his Nectar high, saw Joyce in a dress. He applauded and handed her six dollars.

Joyce (accepting her good fortune): You'll pardon me. Barkeep! Bring the bottle!

Of course, it occurs to me, Joyce gave Martin five dollars last session for a bet that, as Martin pointed out while pocketing the money, he hadn't actually made with her.

Visiting Joy Grove

Turning to the matter of the Joy Grove visit, Joyce decided that, while she'd worn a dress on her last visit there, she'd dress as she usually did for the following day's visit. She suggested Martin pretend he was a pencil-necked Yankee.

Martin: I -am- a pencil-necked Yankee.

Joyce: That's why it'd be so easy for you.

Joyce: Martin, want to terrorize a psychiatrist?

Martin: Yes! I hate those guys!

Lillian: Oh, let's do this.

So, the trio met with Dr. Keaton. He knew Lillian, of course, as she'd been a patient for a few months, and he'd met Joyce before, although she'd been, ah, more appropriately dressed the last time. Martin, like Elaine, though for different reasons, was relegated to the category of invisible functionary, at least for the moment.

Joyce let Lillian do most of the talking, as the plan was for Lillian to be the good cop with the carrot, while Martin was the bad cop with the information Dr. Keaton did not want getting out. Joyce was prepared to be a less subtle threat, as needed. Really, Dr. Keaton was in a tank with three sharks, even though he didn't know it.

Lillian talked about her valuable time at Joy Grove and how she'd learned so much. She mentioned the voices, but either said or maneuvered Dr. Keaton to think that the voices were all in the past now. She told Dr. Keaton about the wonderful opportunity with the Foundation that Mrs. Winston-Rogers was setting up, and how of course, Dr. Keaton should bring his two special patients.

Dr. Keaton was a little skeptical of his good fortune, but, of course, he wanted to believe. And, they had the appropriate paperwork to show him. He did ask if they were sure that they wanted him, and he did make it clear that he couldn't possibly leave Joy Grove without approval from its found whose successor he was supposed to be. Indeed, in good conscience, much though he admitted he wanted the job, he would have to make certain that his replacement had been chosen first and to have enough input into that to be certain that he was leaving Joy Grove and his patients in good hands.

Alden: What do I have to do to get him to do this?

Me: Oh, nothing. He absolutely wants this -- this is just hypocrisy.

Betsy: Yay! Hypocrisy!

Basically, he didn't want to seem the kind of person who'd throw over his responsiblities for such a golden opportunity, but he had no intention of letting that opportunity pass by.

The State of California didn't really much care what happened to Edgar Job so long as it didn't have to pay for his treatment, and he had no relatives. But, of course, there was Mr. Henslowe's mother. Fortunately, the visitors had spoken with her already.

Lillian explained that there would a man in a supervisory position over Dr. Keaton, a Dr. Cecil Walker. Dr. Keaton was unfamiliar with the name, but Lillian explained that he'd been away from the field for a time, and had only recetly returned to it.

As Dr. Keaton tried to find out more about Dr. Walker, Martin quietly cleared his throat.

Martin: We do have some concerns, Dr. Keaton.

Dr. Keaton: And what are those, Mr. -- ah?

Martin: Rhodes.

Lillian was actually visibly taken aback by Martin's choice to use his lover's name.

Martin explained that there were concerns about the financial irregularities at Joy Grove, specifically the way Dr. Keaton was using the Henslowe money to pay for Job's treatment. The Henslowes, of course, were unaware of this.

Lillian mentioned that she had some ideas about improving the treatment plans for the two patients. Martin made it clear that Dr. Keaton's future depended on following the suggestions he was given.

Betsy decided to give Martin a point of Intimidation, which seemed entirely appropriate. She described his eyes as being beautiful, but in this case, somewhat disturbing. I'm wondering if we're talking something like Cillian Murphy's eyes here.

Regardless, we all agreed this wasn't the kind of intimidation casued by someone posing a physical threat; Martin was still a pencil-necked Yankee, after all. No, it was more the threat of the quiet little bureaucrat who knows exactly where you buried all of the bodies and who can, with a word, bury you. I think Martin enjoyed himself. At least, I hope so, as he's been having a rough time of it. Then again, that's true of just about everyone in the campaign.

Dr. Keaton did insist that Douglas Henslowe be informed of Walter Winston's death, attempting to save face while pretty much capitulating. As the visitors were planning to do that anyway, they agreed. To be fair, Dr. Keaton probably did think it was unethical to keep Douglas in the dark. Of course, he also thinks that both of his patients are completely delusional. Regardless, he and Martin despise each other.

I'd very much like to see the subtitled version of this scene, the translation from Southern Politeness to Blunt. (Yes, I will give a build point for that.)

Martin went to speak to Edgar Job, while Joyce and Lillian went to speak to Douglas Henslowe. The visitors decided to speak to the men in their own rooms, rather than in a room prepared by the staff.

Martin found Edgar Job in his room, writing down lines of math, and waited. Evetually, Edgar saw him and asked who he was.

Martin: I'm Martin Locksley. (silently, to himself): Sh*t! Why did I tell him my real name?

Edgar, of course, had no idea who he was. I think Martin said that he worked for Trammel, and that Edgar was being moved from Joy Grove.

Edgar: Trammel's moving me?

Martin: No. I'm moving you.

He explained that he no longer worked for Trammel.

Edgar: Is he angry about that?

Martin (truthfully): No.

Edgar was confused, but willing to talk about what he remembered from 1924, and willing to let Martin have his sheet of math equations.

Betsy: Can Martn get some coffee while they talk?

Me: You're the person who scared Dr. Keaton. You can get coffee.

Joyce and Lillian talked to Douglas, explaining about the move and the Foundation, and that Dr. Keaton would be treating him better. Douglas said that Dr. Keaton didn't understand it was all real, but that he wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy. Joyce and Lillian broke the news to him about Walter Winston, assuring him that Walter had died of natural causes and had not been murdered by cultists. They told him that Walter's daughter, Janet, was committed to continuing her father's work, which wasn't exactly a lie.

Douglas felt bad that he wasn't of more use, but both women assured him that he was doing a lot. He had been like a soldier in the war, and now, it was his time to rest and recover. Lillian said he could watch for them, and be ready to help them when they needed it, and he promised that he would.

Meanwhile, Edgar told Martin basically what he'd told Joyce on the earlier visit to Joy Grove. He'd killed a man, Vincent Stark, and he felt guilty about it and knew it was wrong, he said, but the doctor told him to move past it and the man had just killed Ramon Echevarria, and Edgar thought he'd be the next victim and very much hadn't wanted to be.

Martin: Edgar, did you love Ramon Echevarria?

I thought about this and decided that Edgar hadn't thought about it, and didn't know. I'm guessing he probably didn't, but he was under the sway of the man's charisma.

Edgar (trying to be helpful): I followed him. We all did.

He said Ramon had promised the cultists power, but what had been summoned wasn't what he wanted. It wasn't what he'd been promised.

Edgar said that he didn't want Nectar. Martin didn't tell him about having Nectar on him. Martin gave Edgar his contact information and told Edgar to call him if he saw one of the Thing's / Fisher's / Liar's mouths, big or small.

Edgar (who has now imprinted on Martin as his boss): What do you want me to do?

Martin: Well, I... guess you can't kill it. Call me.

Edgar: Will Dr. Keaton let me make a phone call?

Martin: I'll tell him to do that.

He also asked Edgar not to attack Douglas Henslowe. Edgar said that he'd try, and that it was better when he had his pills. I think Martin told him that Dr. Keaton wouldn't be playing games with confrontation therapy and withholding medicine, but I'm not sure, and I don't recall exactly what was said.

Martin did make it clear that he didn't worship the being Ramon had summoned and didn't want it there.

Edgar: Then, why did you bring it with you?

Martin: What?

Edgar: Why did you bring it with you, if you don't want it?

Martin: No, I -- I have some of its Nectar, yes, but that's like -- like spit. That's not bringing it with me!

Edgar: It's not human.

Martin: Sh*t! Is this thing sentient?

Edgar: Do you need the wastebasket? Dr. Keaton doesn't like it when I vomit on the floor.

Martin said something to the effect that he was all right, I think. He stumbled out of the room in growing horror. Could Nectar actually be sentient?

GM: Lillian told you.

Martin: I didn't listen -- I thought it was -stupid-! Also, misogynist.

Lillian and Joyce said goodbye to Douglas. After Lillian had gone, Joyce came back for a moment.

Joyce: Doug?

Douglas: Yes?

Joyce: Was it worth it?

Douglas (intensely): It has to be, doesn't it?

Joyce: Damn.

Alden: Cat, have fan mail. Lisa, have fan mail.

I thinnk mine was for Edgar asking Martin, "Why have you brought it with you?" Cat's, well, that's pretty obvious, although I wasn't sure what the unspoken subtext of her last line was. Cat elaborated via email:

-- -- --

Subtext was twofold: Joyce wanted to know if going through all these horrors was worth it, in the end--Doug has lost more than she did. His response hit her in two ways: first, that he himself wasn't sure; and second, that what really mattered was doing it, not whether or not you'd come out ahead. So, "Damn! You don't know either!" and "Damn! Gotta keep going!" were bound up in that ejaculation.

-- -- --

Lillian caught up with Martin and found out that he was now starting to believe she might be right about the possiblity of Nectar being sentient, and that he had some one him. Joyce caught up with them and was brought up to date.

Joyce: So could be carrying -- (to Martin) The you part of we could be carrying around part of the Fisher.

Martin gave Lillian the box with the three remaining doses.

Lillian (dangously sweetly): Martin? This is your only back up on this coast, right?

Martin: Yes.

Lillian (shifting into comfort mode): We'll figure this out.

Martin: Thanks, kiddo.

Lillian: Sure thing, pops. (Martin winces.) So how's Job?

Joyce (demanding the box of Nectar): I'm the only one not hooked on this. (to Lillian) You wanted to study it.

Lillian: F*ck! (hands box over to Joyce)

Joyce (looking at the box and how complicated it is to open): Not bad, Marty. I'm going to take this as a sign that you're trying. How -is- Job?

Martin: Insane. Doing math.

Lillian: Let's have some fun with gasoline and a lighter, and then get drunk.

Joyce: You know, I'm starting to take a shine to you, Lillian.

Lillian: Your ass is nice, too.

Joyce: Jesus, Lillian, that's not what I mean! You're not even my type!

They prepared to go to Tennessee. Lillian asked if she needed a coon skin cap, or possibly said she would buy herself one when the got there.

Joyce: Kentucky. Daniel Boons was from Kentucky. Kentucky.

Lillian: Yes, and Davy Crockett was from Tennessee.

Joyce: ...So he was.

Ooltewah

They took a train to Ooltewah, Tennessee, Joyce's home town. She introduced them to Alice Talbott, the widow of Joyce's mentor in flying, Bayard Talbott. Alice had figured Joyce would drop by, as she did every year, to visit Bayard's grave, although she hadn't been able to do so the previous year. That was because she had been shot down over Andalucia by Nazis while flying a Russian fighter plane for the Spainish Republicans.

Joyce also introduced Martin and Lillian to George Atkinson, proprietor of Sutler's, a general store legally owned by Joyce. Folks settled in, and Joyce and Lillian went out riding.

I missed most of this, but got a summary from Cat and Alden:

Joyce asked George if she could have a horse trained for hunting (i.e., not afraid of gunfire) for the next morning. She thought for a moment, then asked for two horses and invited Lillian.

Joyce woke Lillian up at dark o'clock in the morning, giving her a chance to see the aforementioned corpse-like sleeping position.

Joyce: <Stare>

Lillian: It was the only way I could fit into my crib.

They went deer hunting the next day and talked a little about guns. Joyce had given Lillian her father's old Winchester to use. Joyce had a shotgun with deer shot loaded.

Joyce showed Lillian the spot in the woods where her brother Forrest had died (there are still signs of the explosion that destroyed his still and killed him) and also pointed out the spot on the ridge where her father, Franklin "Pa" Summers had been shot by Revenue agents--Pa never being the surrendering kind. Joyce had been supposed to help him load his truck for deliveries that day, but had run off to fly in an air show in Memphis. The delay caused by having to do all the work by himself is what allowed the Revenue agents to get the drop on him.

Joyce also reminisced about two incidents in her childhood. One was her attempt to sign up with the Army in 1918, like her brother Jamie did. She was only fifteen, and trying to pass as a boy. Her father caught up with her in Chattanooga and brought her back, admonishing her that she was the one who was most like him, and the one he couldn't lose. Jaime died in France and was buried there.

The other incident was the only time she saw her father cry, the day her mother finally died from complications suffered during the birth of her younger brother. He came home, grabbed her and said, "Josie, my Tara is gone!"

They found a good deer blind that Joyce knew from hunting with her father. Lillian was quicker taking a shot at the first deer they saw, because she knew that Joyce could make the tougher shot to hit the second deer that was startled out of cover, which she did.

Lillian used her kukri to field-dress the deer. She didn't want to get blood and gore all over her hunting clothes, so she undressed first, then washed off in a nearby stream before getting dressed again. (OOC, this was to be weird and mess with Joyce a little, IC that's the way her Aunt Anne taught her to do it, but Lillian didn't actually mention that.) Joyce observed that being naked was how Lizzie Borden got away with murder.

Alden thinks that Lillian probably said something about Mother Kali gathering them (the deer?) to her bosom.

Meanwhile, Martin was left bored in Tennessee. He checked in with his answering service and learned he'd gotten a call from his brother Henry. He called Henry and found out that a man named Luc Fauche had come by looking for Martin to ask about some antique books. He'd left his card with Henry.

The color drained from Martin's face, which, of course, his brother couldn't see. Martin took down the contact information, which was a phone number of another answering service, and then proceeded to regale Henry with the tale of how woefully bored he was in Tennessee.

This made his brother laugh, as Martin had intended. Henry also asked about the rehabilitation clinic, since Darla had told Henry that Martin had checked himself out of it, but that it was all right. Martin confirmed this.

When Joyce and Lillian came back from their ride, Joyce steeled herself to ask Lillian a question.

Joyce (after starting and stopping several times): Normally, when I -- I usually bring some -- There wasn't any time this -- Aw hell. Lillian, can I borrow some makeup?

Lillian gave the Summer Glau giggle, delighted, and proceeded to start applying make up to Joyce. Martin came in part of the way through this process.

Martin: I can make you look better!

Lillian: Martin, you have sisters. I don't. Back the hell off!

Martin (wisely surrendering): Your prerogative.

He noted that Joyce kept messing up her lipstick by putting a cigarette in her mouth.

Lillian: That's why I stopped reapplying it.

Martin brought them up to date about Luc Fauche, who'd killed Jeremiah, Martin's boyfriend, or possibly had a man with a beetle tattoo do so or possibly one of them had done it accidentally while trying to kidnap Jeremiah because of his knowledge of Siamese antiques. Either way, Martin knew that Fauche was a ruthless man and that his brother was at least implicitly in danger.

Of course, Martin's friends could also be ruthless, and Joyce, at least, made it clear that she was prepared to be. Probably Lillian did, too.

Martin: I don't like hurting people. You know that, right?

Joyce: I like hurting people -- when they hurt people I like -- (as Lillian and Martin look reproachfully at her) Oh, right, don't touch he face!

That is, Joyce belatedly remembered she wasn't supposed to touch her own face because of the make up.

Lillian: It's face paint.

Martin: It's war paint.

This led to a digression that we later decided was in character. According to Lillian (and Alden), the term "pretty" was originally applied to men when they made elaborate preparations to put on armor and mount their horses and go to war. In other words, the knights made themselves pretty for war.

The term "pretty" was then used ironically by men, who would say that their wives were making themselves pretty, as they painted their faces and otherwise prepared themselves for social events as elaborately as the men prepared themselves for war. And women meeting socially were, perhaps, continuing warfare by other means. In any case, Alden said, it was this definition which ultimately proved more useful.

[I think this session should perhaps be called War Paint? What do you think?]

Cat explained that the reason Joyce wanted to put on makeup was "to look nice for her visit to Alice Talbott, Bayard's mother, who still remembers Joyce as that wild Summers girl. She tries to put on a show of gentility for her."

Joyce asked Alice's permission to visit Bayard, which Alice granted, of course. Joyce brought Martin and Lillian to Bayard's grave and told them Bayard's story, or at least part of it. I forgot a fair bit of it, so Cat reminded me after the session:

-- -- --

The Talbott family was nouveau riche from Chattanooga who had a summer home near Ooltewah. During WWI, Bayard, the only son, enlisted with the Canadian Army and served in France. He eventually flew with the Royal Canadian Air Force. (Incidentally, William Faulkner claimed to have done the same thing; lots of Americans who wanted in on the war before 1917 enlisted with foreign armies; Hemmingway is another example.)

Bayard taught Joyce how to fly. He was supposed to teach her younger brother Charlie how to fly, but he crashed the trainer twice.

-- -- --

Bayard was also the one who got Joyce out of a mental institution following her fight against Nyarlathotep's schemes in the 1920s. He took his life in 1930, I think because things had gotten to be more than he could handled during the Great Depression.

[Link to Cat's material on Joyce's background on the wiki, perhaps?]

Joyce said that she wasn't sure why she kept coming back to the grave.

Lillian: That is what we do with our dead -- talk to them.

Joyce wasn't sure about that. It wasn't like Bayard was going to answer. Heck, he probably wasn't hearing her. But, Lillian maintained that didn't matter. Joyce sang "Will the Circle Be Unbroken", playing it on her father's banjo. This was the first time she'd played it since her father died.

The next day, Joyce took them to see Bayard's place, a DeHavilland DH-60 Moth. Joyce had kept in perfect working order since his death. She took Lillian up in it for an impromptu flying lesson, an honor Martin was happy to forgo. However, he couldn't get away entirely.

Joyce: Now, Martin, I want you to hold the propeller, then yell "Contact!" and give it a good yank. Make sure you yell "Contact!" Because if you don't, and I start the engine while you're holding it, it won't be good.

Martin: If you kill me, you'll probably have to explain -something- to -someone-.

Joyce: Probably won't kill you. Probably just maim you.

(Cat, explaining via email: (Early planes, like early cars, didn't have magnetos to turn over the engine crankshaft from a cold start. Just like you had to crank a car to start it, you'd spin the propeller manually and try to get the engine to catch. "Contact" was the call when somebody touched the propeller to do this, so that no one accidentally did anything that could cause the motor to start while they were holding on.)

The plane took off safely and Joyce told Lillian about the earlier days, when the planes she flew were basically "kites with internal combustion engines". I forget what Lillian did to prompt the following exchange.

Joyce: You're crazier than I am.

Lillian: Nah. I just have more fun with it.

Before they left Ooltewah, Joyce signed the store over to George.

George: Are you sure you want to do this?

Joyce assured him that she was. The way she figured it, it had really been his store for years. He was the one doing all the work. And, she wasn't sure she'd be back again. She asked him to make sure Alice got out to Bayard's grave, and he said he would.

It had been established in the very first session that Joyce did not care for Amelia Earhardt. 1937 was the year that Earhardt made her last flight, and I had printed out the chart on wikipedia showing her route (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amelia_Earhart#1937_world_flight). We're probably going to lean on it for figruing out the route of the Wayfaring Stranger. Cat told me that the 1937 plan to fly around the world was kept secret until Amelia flew out of Miami.

So, on June 1, 1937, in Kansas City, Joyce heard the news.

Joyce: What? Son of a -bitch-! G-d -damn- it! What?? She cannot fly a -straight line-!

Cat assures me that this is not, in fact, true, but one can sympathize with Joyce.

Joyce: She's going to fly around the world! What kills me is we'll probably end up flying around the world anyway, and it'll be too slow, and no one'll ever know.

Joyce revealed that she had once won a prize for flying, but it was taken away from her when they discovered that she wasn't a man.

[Which prize was this?]

Joyce (by way of explanation): They were French.

Martin: Huh?

Lillian (understanding): Oh.

I forget whether it was Joyce or Lillian who asked Martin: Would you join me in a drink?

Martin: Always.

My notes indicate that bourbon was the drink in question.

Martin: It's Just Us.

[Anyone remember the context of this? I know that "just Us" is what Martin says there is instead of "Justice".]

The next day, June 2, 1937, folks gathered for Kansas City-Los Angeles flight.

Joyce: Hey, you think we could set a record going to LA?

Lilian: (Hungover from trying to drink with Joyce and Martin). Could we not try?

Joiyce: No.

Lillian: Martin, you got any kind of / get anywhere with *illeg*

[What -was- that line? I don't know if she was asking for booze or asking if Martin had pulled off some task or gotten laid or what.]

Martin: No.

Lillian: I really don't want to meet Kali Ma today.

Arrival in Los Angeles

Somewhere around here, I asked whether folks wanted to do the Yucatan or Bangkok after Los Angeles, as I could easily steer things to give in-character reasons to do Bangkok first, if folks wanted to change plans. Cat said to go for Bangkok, and Alden and Betsy had no strong opinions.

Joyce had a private talk with Martin. I forget what prompted her initial question.

Joyce: What's wrong? Be careful in front of the kid.

Martin: I think I was trying too kill myself for the whole of last year in the most personally satisfying way.

Joyce: Why do you think I was checking in on you? Irt wasn't for my health.

Martin: That's sweet of youi. Now, I'm wondering if I'm going to die in a couple of days.

Folks discussed how to handle Luc Fauche.

Martin: I want to know what he knows.

Joyce: Oh-- why didn't you -say- so?

Martin made some comment about how Joyce and Lillian were so happy to have the go ahead to hurt the man, and Joyce protested that she didn't actually like hurting other people.

[I'll use the actual dialogue, if anyone remembers it.]

Lillian said that she wanted to sit down for tea with Luc Fauche and learn about him by what he talked about. She later did explain that she didn't mean that this had to be voluntary on his part or take place where they'd set up the public meeting.

She noted that the thing liked to talk about more than anything else in the world was flying.

Lillian: So, basically, talking about flying is like talking about yourself?

Joyce: Stop trying to get into my head! There's not enough room in here!

Lillian asked Martin what he liked to talk about most.

Martin: Probably how dashingly handsome I am.

Betsy: Which is a lie.

What Martin most liked to talk about was Jeremiah.

Lillian: We know that when you talk about how beautiful you are, you're really talking about how beautiful Jeremiah made me feel.

[I think that was the line -- as always, feel free to correct.]

She hypothesized that Luc Fauche might like talking about beating people up most, if I recall correctly.

Either Joyce or Lillian: Should you tell us where you're hiding your Nectar?

Either he demurred or the asker got distracted. Answering service tag was played as Martin tried to set up a meeting with Luc Fauche where his friends would have the upper hand. The meet was ultimately set for a Kosher deli in Malibu.

Martin: All right. I've eaten Jew food before.

The deli was not run by the mafia, but did pay protection money, and Joyce could at least get her mafia friends to assure her that things would be quiet. That is, if shooting needed to happen or if she needed to, ah, forcibly escort someone somewhere more private, no one would make any trouble or call the cops. I think Joyce made a comment about doing "some take out", by which I don't think she meant ordering to go.

Martin visited Samson Trammel in custody, while Lillian stayed outside the room. Martin asked Trammel if Nectar were sentient. Trammel had never considered the question, but found the idea amusing.

Trammel: That means every time we take some, we're f*cking it.

[Anyone remember the rest of that conversation?]

He convinced Martin to have sex with him. Afterwards, Martin rejoined Lillian, who had seen the mayor leave from a visit with Trammel as Martin arrived, and who had certainly heard the sounds of sex, although not the conversation that preceeded it.

I'd checked to see who the mayor was. As it turns out, Frank L. Shaw had won reelection for the position. In our world, in 1938, he became "the first mayor of a major American city to be recalled from office". While Shaw was never charged with any crime, people considered his administration to be "one of the most corrupt in Los Angeles history", making him the perfect mayor during the Eternal Lies campaign.

Lillian was concerned about Martin getting too close to Trammel.

Lillian: Martin, is he still getting Nectar?

Martin: Yeah.

Lillian: I don't think you should f*ck him any more.

Martin: Who should I f*ck?

Lillian: Someone who doesn't have Nectar in his system and the voice of our enemy in his head.

I forget the context of the following:

Martin: I have prostituted myself for much worse causes.

Lillian: Was that really your plan?

Martin said that he didn't have a plan.

Lillian: I don't want you becoming a cultist because you think he's pretty.

Martin: It's not 'cuz I think he's pretty.

Martin tried to make something clear.

I'm not a strong person, Lillian. I'm very alone right now. If you ever need to toss me over the side, Lillian, do it. I am not a strong person, Lillian. At some point, I am likely to become a liability.

[I know I don't know how a lot of this conversation went, so do let me know if you remember stuff I missed.]

Martin: I don't think there's anything after death. I think there's Just Us.

Lillian: I don't think they're anything after death. That's why I'm not afraid of it.

Martin: There's no truth. There's no justice. There's Just Us.

Lillian: And that's why we are God.

Meanwhile, Samson Trammel made the mistake of calling Joyce, perhaps believing they had common cause. I vaguely remember:

Trammel: So, here's the thing. I want Martin.

Joyce: Not going to happen.

Trammel: Oh, I know that. You know why?

I think Joyce said something about how it was because she'd kill Trammel, which made him laugh. He said that the reason was that Jeremiah was dead. Competing with a dead man was impossible, and Trammel wanted whoever had killed Jeremiah to wind up dead. He told Joyce to tell him is there were anything he could do to help. She suggested he exercise in the prison yard, with "so I can put a bullet through your head" unspoken, but very clear. He laughed and hung up.

Joyce tried to pull strings with her mafia friends to make Trammel wind up dead. At least, could they get the guards to look away for five minutes while she paid him a visit? The problem, they told her, was that a) Trammel had blackmail material on people and had made arrangements to make sure it came out if he wound up dead and b) Trammel had a lot of money and was using it cannily.

Joyce fumed that he was harder to get to than a governor. Then, she had a brilliant idea.

Joyce: Buchwald!

She burst into the office of Abraham Buchwald, the man who was once Ramon Echevarria's accountant, and told the person he was meeting with that the meeting was now over. Wisely, the man left.

Joyce explained that she wanted to know where Samson Trammel kept his money. Buchwald protested that he had never been Trammel's accountant. Joyce said that he could fine out anyway, and that he'd better have at least made enough of a start to have something to tell her by the next day. I think she also made it clear that she did intend to pay him in cash, as well as in his continued survival.

Throughout the rest of the day, she called Buchwald once an hour, including when he was at home, with cheerful messages.

Joyce: Eleven hours! (hangs up)

She tried to figure out whether she'd be seeing Buchwald before or after the meeting at the deli.

GM: Well, when is the meeting at the deli?

Martin: High noon. That's when duels happen.

Joyce: So, after. I need to make a phone call. (dials) Ten hours!

Little girl's voice: What?

Joyce: Put your father on.

Meanwhile, Martin put face paint on. Betsy said that, while Martin didn't actually want anyone to see him like that, Betsy thought they should, so Joyce walked in.

Martin: War paint. I look stunning. Don't tell me I'm wrong.

Joyce (holding out a hand covered in grease from cleaning a gun): War paint.

I forget how the rest of the conversation went, but I gather that Martin didn't enjoy it (although Betsy probably did) based on his reaction when, after Joyce left, Lillian came in.

Martin: Yeah? You want to make fun of me, like Joyce?

(Offstage Joyce prays for this.)

Lillian: Are you getting ready to pray?

I'm not sure where the conversation went from there -- anyone remember? I do remember Lillian saying something about how scared people who told fairy tales were.

Martin: I never read fairy tales.

I think Martin told Lillian about how Jeremiah taught him about face paint.

Lillian: I'm glad Jeremiah taught you to pray.

Martin talked about how Jeremiah was never ashamed and never afraid. Martin wasn't like that. He was afraid all the time.

Lillian: If you're scared all the time, and you're still doing things, that makes you the bravest person I've ever met.

This wasn't the sort of thing that Martin was used to hearing from anyone. His image of bravery, when it wasn't Jeremiah, was more traditional, like Joyce, the modern equivalent of a dragon slayer.

Joyce: Dragons are afraid of -me-.

Indeed, when she had dreams about Nyarlathotep, he actually seemed a bit spooked. Of course, those might just be dreams.

I forget what prompted it, but Martin, in his face paint, gave a GRIN that was unnerving enough to make Lillian swallow.

Meanwhile, the people Joyce had keeping an eye on Cissy contacted her. Cissy was doing fine, they assured her, but she'd had a bit of trouble with the plumbing in her place, so they made sure a convenient plumber happened by.

Joyce, misunderstanding, went ballistic. How could they let in some stranger claiming to be a plumber?

Watcher: No, no, no! _We_ were the plumber! Why would we let some stranger claim to be a plumber? That could be anyone!

Joyce calmed down.

Joyce: How was she looking?

Watcher: Wet.

Joyce: No, but how was she looking?

The watcher described the clothing Cissy was wearing, which, of course, was not at all what Joyce meant. It's telling that, although Cissy has moved out of where she was living with Joyce, officially as her housekeeper, and although Joyce pushed her away to keep her safe, Joyce still seems to think of their relationship as being stormy, rather than over.

In a foul mood, she called Buchwald again.

Joyce: 8 hours!

Meeting with Fauche

By the next day, Martin had removed his face paint and Joyce was well heeled, by which I mean her armaments, not her footwear (although I suppose there's some overlap). Folks discussed where they should sit when they came in.

Martin: I don't care where I am sitting. I'm a sitting. I'm a sitting duck anyway.

Somewhere around here, I think Joyce told Lillian about her plan to strip Trammel of his money.

[Was Martin there? Or was this the conversation where Lillian said that she had no further tolerance for her friends' bullshit, as Martin had used up all such tolerance, so if Joyce had a problem with that, she could take it up with him? Or was that a different conversation?]

Joyce: Heck, you don't even have to kick that up to the Syndicate if it's less than half a million. Which I know from doing research.

Lillian: If he doesn't have any pull, we can make him harmless.

As I recall, Lillian was not happy that Joyce was threatening Buchwald. She said she'd promised him he'd be left alone. My recollection's a bit different; I thought she'd threatened him before she left, asking if there were, oh, anything that if she found out about later, she'd get angry at him for not telling her. But, I could see her interpretation, even if my memory is correct.

As they headed for the deli, Martin made sure that his friends understood his position.

Martin: I'm emotionally invested in this, boys and girls -- I want to know what happened to my boyfriend.

They walked into the deli. A man with a beetle tattoo on his wrist was sitting in one corner, back to the wall, watching. Luc Fauche did not seem to be there. Of course, what they had for his description was cobbled from Jeremiah's letter and Trammel's description. Jeremiah was dying when he wrote the letter, while Trammel was insane.

A woman approached the trio. Well, more particularly, she approached Martin, introducing herself as Carol. He asked her where Luc Fauche was, and she said that he was outside, in a car. He'd sent her to tell Martin something.

They told her that anything she wanted to tell Martin, she had to tell all of them. She refused and started to leave.

Martin approached her, wanting to know what she had to say. I think that Joyce, and possibly Lillian, were starting to threaten the woman at this point. She was terrified by them, having just been paid to deliver a message, and she wanted to get away from the two scary women.

[Had Joyce pulled a gun or what?]

Joyce (muttering to herself, I think): Son of a bitch, if this goes further south, we'll all be back in Mexico.

Martin apologized and was willing to let the woman whisper in her ear. But, even though she realized that Carol had no idea what was going on, Lillian was not willing to take chances.

Lillian: Poisoned lipstick!

Terrified, Carol said she'd wipe it off. Martin gave her his handkerchief, feeling guilty about how scared she was. Finally, she whispered her message to him.

Carol: He's waiting for you in Bangkok. Jeremiah.

This had the effect that Fauche had intended, which is to say that Martin was willing to get into a car with ruthless strangers. His friends were not willing to let him when he told them what he'd heard. Joyce had been at Jeremiah's funeral, and she'd seen the body. Okay, she hadn't gotten up close and personal the way a coroner would have, but she was quite certain that it was, in fact, Jeremiah's body.

She refused to let Carol leave, making her sit down and handcuffing her to a table. Lillian approached the man with the beetle tattoo carefully, in as non-threatening manner as possible, open hands held at her side, palms out. He recognized that her as basically his counterpart, sort of one hitter spotting another. Staying a few feet away, she ased if he could take a message to Luc Fuache.

Alden doesn't recall what message Lillian would have given the man, but she didn't get a chance. He stood up and walked, without great hurry, out of the deli. Martin followed, catching up to him.

At this point, things started to get confusing, and we did a fair bit of backing up to make sure that everyone was on the same page about where all the characters were and who was doing what.

The man with the beetle tattoo got into a car. He'd decided that things had gone pear shaped enough that a tactical retreat was the best option.

Joyce positioned herself out of sight of the car, but where she could move to get off a shot at tires or at whatever else seemed a reasonable target.

Martin tried to get into the car. He wanted a look at Luc Fauche. Lillian tried to maneuver so that she was the one who got into the car, or at least that's what it looked like to Joyce and Martin. Her actual priorites were:

• to ensure that Martin didn't get into the car
• to get a good look at Mr. Fauche
• To get some information from Mr. Fauche, getting in the car to do so, if necessary.

Also, at this point, all Drives were in play.

• Martin: Closure
• Lillian: Thirst for Knowledge
• Joyce: Adventure

Neither Martin nor Lillian managed to get into the car.

Martin or Lillian: Mr. Fauche?

The man in the car who didn't have the beetle tattoo (and was in the driver's seat) nodded as the door closed.

Lillian: Do you actually have Jeremiah alive in Bangkok?

He thought about this, and Lillian could tell (as she has several points in Assess Honesty) that he decided that "yes" and "no" were both untrue. He finally nodded, deciding that "yes" was less untrue.

Martin thought about trying to run for the car, but decided to stick to his strength: sneaking. Lillian spotted him at the last minute and kept him from getting into the car by doing some sort of throw/tackle maneuver which ended up with her falling on top of him (probably deliberately). The car drove off. Joyce let it go.

(This wasn't combat, although it came really close a couple of times. It was a negotiated consensus fiat.)

Lillian got up. Martin curled into a ball. Joyce came out from her cover.

Joyce: Lillian! <SMACK!> Do not -ever- do that again! I would not have been able to get -you- out of there!

Joyce helped Martin up, still furious and shaken.

Joyce: Jesus Christ, I can't lose -both- of you!

Lillian told Martin that Luc Fauche had lied and was a lying sack of sh*t. Joyce told Martin that she'd been at the funeral instead of him, and that she knew it shouldn't have been that way, but it was, and she had seen the body, and it was Jeremiah's.

Joyce: They were playing you.

Martin (quietly): It's a good play.

[I have this bit and have no idea what it was supposed to mean: I know 2 ****illegible much anyways*** I mean -- I did some research on it.]

Joyce calmed down a little.

Joyce (to Lillian): I'm sorry. I overreacted.

Lillian explained that getting into the car meant that she could do a fair bit of damage to the other people in the car, and that she'd had no intention of being anything bearing even a passing resemblance to a sacrificial lamb.

Joyce: You assume whoever is behind Mr. Fauche does not consider him expendable.

Lillian: That's a good point.

Joyce pointed out that there could have been people watching that they didn't know about, people willing to open fire on the car and kill everyone inside it. She gave them advice on what to do if that sort of thing happened.

Joyce: Get behind engine of a car. Doors do nothing.

Martin: Duly noted.

After the session and out of character, Alden explained that Lillian's warning about the poisoned lipstick was probably her hallucinating something horrible, not literal poisoned lipstick per se, but perhaps toxic fumes or the equivalent wafting from Carol's mouth into Martin's ear, making him rot away in front of her. This was her interpretation of her (player's) intuition that whatever Carol was about to say or do once Martin was close enough would be very bad for him, something "rotting or corrupting or contaminating or infecting Martin's mind" -- and, in a way, Lillian was right to fear the poisoned words Carol had been given to say.

Recouping

Joyce decided that it was time to call Buchwald again.

Joyce: Fifteen minutes!

Buchwald: I can't work like this! You might as well kill me! (hangs up)

Joyce: Everyone's growing a backbone!

I explained that Buchwald had actually done the opposite of growing a backbone. He was pretty much giving up, having cracked under the pressure. He wasn't dictating terms; he was a nervous wreck, what with having been called every hour, unable to get any work done on anything.

Joyce called back, and, after several rings, Buchwald picked up. Joyce managed to sooth him, apologizing for scaring him and setting a meeting for the next day, promising not to bother him until then. She even asked her mafia friends to make sure no one else bothered him.

Meanwhile, Alden said something about Lillian going to the new hotel that they would be staying in now, on the theory that Luc knew where they had been staying, or, at any rate, that someone who was their enemy did. Folks joked about the PCs changing hotels several times, even though I don't think they really have.

Cat: We lose more clothes that way! And Janet got a bill for four full wardrobes for all of us, and she's looking at this, saying, "I don't understand. They keep buying the same things."

Cat: So, how do people feel about my character doing something extremely self destructive?

Betsy was all for that, while I was a bit more cautious. (It later occurred to me that I had the X card on the table, should the need to use it come up, but it didn't occur to me, and I didn't need to use it.)

Joyce called Samson Trammel and told him that Martin was running low on Nectar and needed more. Trammel assured her that it would be restocked. She asked where it would arrive, and he pointed out that Martin already knew that.

Joyce: Look, I'm asking _nicely_. I'm asking for a _favor_.

In other words, she was asking for herself.

Trammel: Why?

Joyce: Look up the Kenya Star for May 1927. That was your god's work.

Trammel agreed to have the Nectar delivered to Joyce at a particular drug store, and it was.

Joyce (to courier): This never happened, and you don't know who I am.

The courier had no quarrel with that and departed.

Joyce thought hard about taking the Nectar. It would make the pain go away. But... the pain would come back. And, Lillian and Martin needed someone to be the adult. Cursing, she headed back to the hotel without partaking.

[What was the conversation between Lillian and Martin like during this time?]

Martin was drinking.

Martin: Wine -- Jeremiah never liked champagne. He always liked wine.

Joyce went into Martin's room and closed the door. Lillian waited outside.

Joyce (putting the Nectar on the table): I will do whatever it takes to make you feel better, Marty, because this is the end of the world for you.

Martin managed to find the willpower to throw the vial across the room. It shattered against a wall.

Martin: Not tonight.

Joyce: I'm sorry, Marty; I was trying to do the right thing, but I don't know how to fix things. (pause) Do you want me to stay?

Martin: That would probably be a good idea. If you don't, I'll lick the Nectar off the walls.

Martin: Come on, there's gotta be -something- on the radio.

GM: Yes, there is! Amelia Earhardt!

Joyce's cigarette fell from her mouth. (Cat had something that was a cigarette substitute and it did, indeed, slowly fall from her mouth. It was hilarious.)

Joyce: You know that strength he gave you, you think that stops? It's still there.

I'm not sure how the conversation shifted next, but the next bit I have is:

Joyce: Home is a thing that doesn't happen to me now That's why I'm so scared about what's happening to Lillian. She's still romantic enough to think she can get out of this alive. I'm not. I died ten years ago.

Joyce and Martin fell asleep against each other. After a few moments, the door opened slowly. Lillian came in and cleaned up the Nectar, then left.

Joyce (waking up the next day and starting): Somebody's been in here! Wait -- it's probably Lillian.

Martin or Lillian (I think? To Joyce about the Nectar?): Where the hell did you get that?

Joyce: Trammel.

She said that she was going to see about removing Samson Trammel.

Martin: Could you hold off on that?

Joyce assured him that she was just gathering information, not doing anything drastic, not yet. Then, she went to see Abraham Buchwald.

She apologized again for scaring him and his little girl, and told him that one of the benefits of working for her meant that he'd be protected. He now understood why there had been a car just sitting by the curb near his home (although he hadn't spotted the surveillance on his office). He told Joyce that he didn't have any results for her as yet. He hadn't been Trammel's accountant, and that meant that he didn't really have a legitimate way to get the information Joyce wanted. This didn't mean he couldn't get it, of course, just that he couldn't do it quickly. He also asked Joyce for a name to call her, making it clear that he didn't expect her to give her real name.

Joyce told him to call her Miss Alexandra Graham. She gave him a phone number to leave information with. It was a Syndicate number. She told him that things that would be particularly useful were names of banks, properties, securities, and so on. She also said he might get a (friendly) visit from a man named Vito de Genero.

Joyce: He'll probably bring you wine. It's a thing he does.

She told him to take the rest of the day off and spend it with his family.

Buchwald: Am I getting paid for that?

Joyce (smiling like a friendly shark): Enjoy your time with your family, Mr. Buchwald.

Meanwhile, Lillian and Martin were talking.

Martin: I love you like a sister.

[I have no idea what the context of that was.]

Lillian asked what happened when Martin visited Trammel in custody.

Martin: We f*ck. He offers me Nectar. Sometimes, I take it.

Lillian: Do you think you should tell me where it is? I think you should tell me where it is.

Martin: Not yet.

Lillian: I'm not going to destroy it. It's too useful.

I forget what the context of this was:

Martin: Martin: Lillian, here is a fact that might stun you. Physical intimacy and mental intimacy actually go together for me.

Lillian: I just want to get him out of prison.

Martin: Why?

Lillian: He's more vulnerable that way, and more useful.

This bothered Martin, though I think Lillian's agenda is different from Joyce's. I'm not quite sure.

Lillian and Martin decided to buy some makeup so that Martin could disguise Lillian to look like someone else so that he could bring her with him when he next went to visit Samson Trammel. He wasn't sure how Luc Fauche knew about him and Jeremiah, but Trammel was one obvious possiblity. And, Lillian is fairly good at telling when people are lying to her.

They brought the makeup back to their hotel rooms. Lillian decided to come clean. She told Martin that Fauche hadn't been entirely lying, and that Jeremiah might somehow be sort of alive. That's when Martin dropped the makeup, ruining it all.

This was the players' idea, not mine. I wasn't even aware of exactly what was going on, as I was focusig on the scee with Joyce. So, Lillian suggested they go out and buy more makeup. Martin didn't want to go, and Lillian wasn't about to leave him there alone.

Joyce returned, and folks may or may not have brought each other completely up to date.

A Piece of Paper

The next day, Martin used his Disguise skill (total of 8) to make Lillian look like someone else. Lillian used the name Jane Doe, and she and Martin made the appropriate spends to get the guards to let Lillian, as well as Martin, in to see Trammel.

[Again, do let me know any details you guys remember that I don't.]

Martin kissed Trammel, then asked him why he'd told Luc Fauche about Jeremiah (or, more specifically, Jeremiah's connection to Martin). Trammel was surprised. He had to think about it, but he eventually concluded, correctly, that he had not told Luc Fauche about it. Lillain nodded to Martin. Trammel was surprised that Fauch knew.

Trammel asked if Joyce had taken the Nectar, and they got him to believe that she had, "Jane" making a little satisfied sound, as if the Nectar had led Joyce to have sex with her. Trammel also asked if Joyce had been telling the truth about Martin being low on Nectar.

Martin (news to him, but utterly without hesitation): Yeah, I burned through a lot. I was in Tennessee.

Trammel: What the hell were you doing in Tennessee?

[I forget what the answer was or if it was particularly important. I suspect Martin was vague and evasive.]

At some point, Captain Walker's name came up, I forget in what context.

Trammel: The son of a bitch.

Martin laughed, as did Trammel, though I'm sure the latter would be quite happy to see Walker dead for betraying him.

Martin was trying to figure out what Fauche wanted to accomplish by bringing him to Bangkok and how Jeremiah might be alive, or in what sense.

Trammel thought about this, and said that he could think of a couple of possibilities for the second question. There were creatures who ate corpses.

Lillian or Martin: Are you referring to ghouls?

Trammel confirmed this. Ghouls tunnel up from below a grave, and sometimes, they might have an arrangement with an undertaker. He also knew that there was a way to reduce a body to its "essential saltes" and then revive it, although he wasn't sure if that would work for someone who'd been murdered. It wasn't as if he'd ever tried such a thing. But, he told Martin, the first thing to do was to check to see if there was a body where there should be and, if so, what state it was in.

As for why bring Martin to Bangkok, well, Trammel said, suppose one takes as a working hypothesis that, somehow, Jeremiah is in Bangkok, in whatever state. And further assume that, for some reason, Jeremiah just isn't too keen on cooperating with his murderers.

Martin: I see where you're going with this.

Also, they thought Martin might know where Trammel's books were, and perhaps they thought Martin had other information, as he'd inherited Jeremiah's antiquities business. But, Martin had no real reason to cooperate. Take these two problems, toss them at each other, and, hey, results! Or, at least, explosions.

Trammel knew that this latest twist meant that Martin would be going to Bangkok, and warned him that the cultists there played rough.

Martin: Sweetheart, I started at -your- parties.

Trammel liked that. He didn't like that his counterpart in Bangkok seemed to be holding back on him. She hadn't told him about her people who collected information, and if she had been raising dead antiquities experts, she was definitely keeping things from him that he needed to know. Apparently, she had no more faith in him than Jonathan Brooks had, or in their god.

(Seriously, I think one of the many odd things about Trammel is that he's got the most faith in the cult's god. He's writtten a holy book about it, he's not seeking for more information like S. S., he's not sending expeditions to second guess anything like Brooks. That said, of course, he was also ticked because it's hard enough competing with a dead Jeremiah for Martin's soul, and now the same folks have brought him back in some form or other?)

Trammel asked for a sheet of paper, which Martin supplied. Trammel wrote something on it, then kissed Martin, handing him the paper, which had a name written on it. Lillian looked on and used her Cthulhu Mythos knowledge to try to figure out if Martin was in any kind of mythosy danger from intimate physical contact with Trammel.

GM: Nah. Well, I suppose, if Trammel covered himself in Nectar and Martin licked it off, but basically, no.

Lillian yanked Martin's hair, pulling his head back.

Martin (surprised, I think): Ah!

"Jane" / Lillian: I don't mind. Go ahead. You need it more than I do.

So, Trammel and Martin had sex. After the game, I sent an email with the subject header "Questions I never thought I'd ask...", asking whether Lillian had stayed to watch Martin having sex with Samson Trammel.

Alden's email: Yes. No way Trammel gets a chance to talk with Martin alone anymore. That's the only reason, no ulterior motives at all to watch two really good looking men have sex. Nope, not even a little.

My email: Right. ...it... even follows her drive, doesn't it?

Betsy's email: Oh dear God.

After they left Trammel, Martin had a question for Lillian.

Martin: So, sex is okay?

Lillian: Yes.

Martin: Good to know.

They rejoined Joyce.

Martin (showing paper): That's who we're going to see in Bangkok.

Joyce: Son of a bitch. I'm not going to ask how you got that piece of paper because I know.

They told her about what Trammel said about bringing people back from the dead, and I think Lillian noted that no story about bringing the dead back showed it as other than a generally bad idea. Joyce mentioned the Necronomicon.

Lillian: What's the Necronomicon?

Joyce: Forget I said it.

Lillian: I -can't-.

Joyce: G-d -damn-.

Betsy: Martin files it away.

Martin: Joyce, would you be willing or able to check on the condition of the body?

Lillian: Have them send the autopsy report to me. I can probably parse it.

The Noir Voice Over: I guess that's one secret that won't stay buried.

Princeton

Now, this whole subplot was something I'd created only recently, but it worked better than it had any business doing: Alden noted that no one was going to stop Lillian from being creepy and using her science skills to examine the corpse.

Alden: That's what I built her for!

I did not have that in mind at the time, but he was absoutely right. It also followed Lillian's Drive, Thirst for Knowledge, as well as Martin's Drive for Closure. Sadly, this did not address Joyce's Drive.

Cat: This is not Adventure. This is just gross.

Joyce got a contact in New York to get her a court order to exhume the body. After all, it was a murder case, and new information had come to light.

They went to Princeton, NJ, which is where Jeremiah was buried. The corpse was exhumed, and Lillian began her examination. The sort-of-good-news: There was a corpse, and it was Jeremiah's.

Lillian noted a fair bit of cosmetic work to make the corpse presentable, and feeling around delicately, confirmed her (and Alden's) suspicion: The brain was missing.

(Honestly, Alden asked about that straight off, with absolutely no prompting from me. Okay, granted, it was a logical thing to check for, as Alden pointed out via email when reading over an earlier draft of this write up.)

Martin stumbled back, vomiting.

Joyce: I need to make a phone call.

Lillian: Is this something you've seen before?

Joyce: I need to make a phone call.

Lillian: Take care of Martin.

Joyce decided that there was no reason she couldn't do both. She took Martin out of the room and made her phone call, yelling at the operator.

Joyce: Albert Wilmarth! At M.U.!

I checked our Lovecraft backhistory as modified by various bits of character back history. Joyce had known Henry Armitage, and he'd created a foundation to deal with the Penhew Foundation (I think?) after the events of Masks of Nyarlathotep (which happened in 1927, not 1925). But, Armitage was dead. Pace Fritz Leiber, but I'm not sure I'm going to have Wilmarth be his successor.

That said, Wilmart was very much alive, and confirmed what he could for Joyce about the events chronicled in Lovecraft's "The Whisperer in Darkness" (http://www.hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/fiction/wid.aspx), but reminded her of how much he didn't know. He was clearly shaken.

Lillian checked the work done to remove the brain and sew up the head. The stitches were done with human care, not alien precision, which I think had bee the case in the incident Wilmarth had been unfortunate enough to be involved in.

Joyce (relieved): We're already fighting one, maybe two, outer gods. We really don't need to be fighting aliens as well.

Martin: What?

Joyce: Men from Mars. Don't worry about it.

Martin: Joyce? Did Men from Mars remove my boyfriend's brain?

Joyce tried to explain the situation.

Martin: Brain in a jar?

Joyce: A metal cylinder, actually.

Martin: Oh good, 'cuz that's so much better.

Lillian: He's trying to hook up a dildo to it -- (sees the look on Martin's face): I'm sorry, sweetie! I'm sorry! I was trying to make something horrible a little funny! I'm sorry!

Martin: It's okay.

They did some further research, given that removing a brain and keeping it in any condition to put in a Mi-Go brain cylinder is not in any way an easy feat. It turned out that there were two or three doctors at the hospital where Jeremiah died (what hospital did we decide it was, again?) who might have been able to perform such a procedure. One of them was in the right place at the right time to have done so -- and he was found a couple of days later, stabbed to death.

No one questioned the need to find the cylindar, though there was some disagreement about what to do once it was found. I think Joyce was in favor of unhooking the brain as painlessly as possible and letting Jeremiah die. (Or was that Lillian? It might have been)

Joyce said something along the lines of how, obviously, it wasn't as if one couldn't make a clone body, you know, like in that science fiction stuff, and...

Martin: I need to think.

Lillian: So do I.

Joyce: I need to stop speculating first.

Martin: Yes.

Joyce: I'm throwing out my Popular Mechanics.

Martin: Good.

Martin looked at Joyce and Lillian.

Martin: Don't either of you die.

They all agreed that it was time to find a bar. Joyce and Lillian tried to outdo each other in ordering. Lillian made a Credit Rating spend for brandy.

Joyce (tasting and approving): Legion of Honor stuff.

Martin: My father always liked brandy.

Lillian ordered Bailey's Irish Cream and lime juice, aka cement mix. After the game, Alde explained that Lillian was buying the brandy as an apology to Martin for the comment about the dildo, and was hoping that he'd order something awful and make her drink it. Martin, not being telepathic, did not figure this out. So, Lillian ordered the cement mixer for herself.

(OOC, Alden also felt bad about that, thinking it was out of character for Lillian, but figured "was as preoccupied and guilt ridden about it as I was.")

Someone ordered Ouzo, possibly Joyce.

Lillian: Kali Ma, take my soul. Please embrace it.

Joyce: You really should try Durga.

Martin: Don't die.

Joyce: Bordeaux '22 -- Course, we'll have to drink the bottle!

Joyce: Mescal! When the other liquors make fun of Tequila, it goes back and gets its older brother, Mescal!

Later, Lillian ordered Japanese whiskey. I think Joyce refused to believe that such a thing existed. And someone ordered a scotch or something that was peaty.

Lillian: Peaty -- Petey, Georgie, Henry, and a little Tommy!

Joyce: Since we had 8 shots, we're safe. Time for mixed drinks! Box cars all around!

Lillian (quoting some older male relative): A man's date and his scotch should be about the same age. I like a scotch old enough to order its own scotch.

And we faded out there.